#anyway 'same generation of evil' is a. weird phrase?

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Do you ship it?

reasons under the cut!

For the beginning i would like to say that THEYRE BOTH ADULTS. i have different dynamics with them (like...3 dynamics and fan encounters and stuff) because RE4OG Ashley's personality is slightly different in RE4 as she's more talkative and direct, Ada didn't changed anything though but yeah. I started """"shipping"""" them because of the dynamics and interesting stuff i could do with that, but not really shipping because they couldn't work at ALL( so it's shipping but like only ashley have romantic interest in ada which it's also just a crush and in the very maxium Ada finds her cute and well i like to make girls kiss n stuff ) Like they're from totally different background and occupations and levels of inteligence well its weird!

but the dynamics are like ... Ashley's sapphic awakening or like Cat/Mouse dynamic orrr the nanahachi/franmaya (ace attorney) dynamic trope.. ANYway and also because i imagine Ashley girlcrushing on ada on these little interactions i made . Other reasons: they're very cute to draw + the ONLY stuff with them are nsfw and i WILL make cute and basic and generic fanarts just to cover them + Ada replacing Leon mod videos + YURIIIII + they only put Ada and Ashley in the same phrase to talk about their ships with Leon OR create an inexistent beaf between them AND assuming all lines they mention each other (specially Ashley's) are about jealousy and honestly IDGAF they KISS and MAKE out !

tag: @pin-poo

-

ITS A RAREPAIR BUT THINK WITH ME. ONE SIDED YURI. BLONDIE/BLACK HAIR. TEASES/HATES TO BE TEASED. ALSO. YURI. And because they're like the two girls everyone think would hate each other because of the protagonist but hey. They coukd kiss too you know !!!!!!!!!!!!. AAND for me it would be genuinely interesting to explore their dynamic since they have exactly one(1) interaction in the whole franchise, it's a good one though but well!!!!

[diabolic-wave]

You said you have Parallel Canon ramblings that couldn't fit in the tags. Ramble away, fellow human.

Also, let me know if you find that post you mentioned being reminded of.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS yeah it was a more generalized thing (i saw it cropped and had to go find the image + search the exact phrasing but it's since been reblogged) the sentiment of being the 'evil' clone is up for debate i suppose. perhaps in a literal sense - yknow, antivirus that's been infected with malware; a copy and paste of code that was supposed to be 4 tweaked and repurposed into hostility. but it feels a little wrong to call them evil anyway. (there's also definitely a horror in that it's still your "friend" even while it's "evil" they jump to you they tell you they will they cry out when you kill them and you can hear it and isn't that just awful? they're all still someone that was supposed to be on your side. it's not just the voice clip it's not just a super jump indicator it's an 'ouch' ping it's a 'hey i am super jumping to you, my teammate, specifically' audio cue. this was supposed to be your friend.) and what if it still was! what if you ran with the same sort of angst as if it was genuinely 4 at first? what if eight saw that, remembered sanitized agent 3, and knocked/tore the mask off to save them and it worked? what's it like for everyone then? we know pearl is filling the role she's intended to be, so in that same sense people use that to bring 4 in you could use it to make a dawning horror sort of story. the slow realization that it's not. you could well have it still more directly attached to 4 through the palette too - i think this works well for most things and not just this specifically, like i do think it can play a pretty significant part in pcanon feeling so strongly that it is agent 4 even if it's not quite identical or doesn't remember everything or whatever - but ultimately it never really was. and so what then? for parallel and for everyone else? would it be cruel to acknowledge it? i would think it'd be a little uncomfortable for everyone involved no matter what. in contrast to never being treated like 4 in the first place, instead it is but only for a little bit. and then suddenly everyone starts getting a little... distant. uneasy. even if they never actually say anything about it there's still that nasty anxious feeling when it seems like everyone else knows something you don't and especially if you can tell it's something about you.

i also often find myself especially fascinated with what they are just in general tbh. that one i could touch on in the tags at least though. yknow, series of progressively more distorted photocopies. the first is almost pristine, just a little off from the book itself thanks to things like the weird seam copies get from the way the pages crease at the spine. and then when easy access to the book is lost and the copies start being copies of other copies it gets further and further away. burns. fading. other weird random marks. if the intro is anything to go by, they've all got their quirks. a hall of mirrors reflecting the reflection of the same person. ants that've gotten themselves confused, following each other's trail ever onward and onward into the death spiral because they don't know how to do anything but follow orders and march together. they're not quite like ants in that they're individuals, sure. with their own egos. but they're all still made from the same copy and pasted code, recopied, repasted, corrupted further by the virus hijacking them. and they all still act in harmony to do what they were supposed to do from the beginning. follow the directive, follow the pheromones, even if you've been trapped in a path you weren't supposed to take. (truthfully, i got in on the spiral of ants association just because of 'intensifying harmony' -> 'the overwhelming harmony (consuming the colony)' but since then i've ended up latching onto it more and making other connections lmao. You Are One Ant is something that's also stuck for a long time alongside the harmony connection which i've thought about drawing something for occasionally but honestly the whole pre-chorus at this point i think about a lot. the first one especially [you can't remember where you came from. you can't remember where you're going. you can't remember knowing.] but the now you remember/you have to keep it flowing also hits in its own way i think)

also like no matter how you interpret it, how much you think the main parallel can actually remember of "being 4", there's always going to be that light so bright it's blinding as soon as it gets a window into that, right? as soon as it gets to look in that mirror and see that life it doesn't have. the light none of them will ever reach.

in contrast to no matter how happy-go-lucky your 4 is this sort of thing would be crushing, it's also no matter how angsty your 4 is they still have more going for them than the parallels. they're living some sort of life and not just the hollow facsimile of one in a little anthill of a tower in a barren virtual reality. they do have friends even if they've felt neglected, right? but all the parallels really have is each other (and maybe order/smollusk) unless 8 or the others decide to reach out despite how weird that has to be for them.

it's just you and yourself and yourself and yourself and yourself and yourself and yourself and yourself and yourself and yourself (etc if you figure there's more than the ten we see on the floor 20 bossfight) living in the cold white dark. mere imitations of someone who did something meaningful. who was impressive enough for you to be created in the first place.

but then also, how many of them even care? at what point is that copy so distorted from those burns and fadings that it's still identical in text but completely unrecognizable from the book it came from? and what's it like to know there's a you that doesn't care that it's not you? what's it like to be one that doesn't care when however many do? i'd think it'd be a little offputting even if it's a perfect divide and they don't fight about it or anything. but it'd definitely be isolating if it was only a few of them on either side, too.

none of them are their own person but also they are. none of them are 4 but also they all are. it doesn't matter which way any of them look at it because they can never really be either.

NOT TO MENTION what happens when there isn't anything left to defend from? what happens between the time eight is there and marina making use of the memverse the way she intended to originally? let alone when it just isn't needed anymore in general! what happens to the memverse in general then, to both the parallels and to smollusk? what do they do when they're alone in there. unattended. when they're not following their directive and acting as security. i would think they'd just be interacting amongst themselves which is definitely fine between periods of eight going in with the different palettes but how well does it hold up in those sorts of long term situations?

btw looping back to the link to 4's palette imagine that and then when the palette is completed/cleared just... having that ripped away. you know. being so sure that they're someone else only to suddenly be forced to realize they're not. not just because of the way people are treating them but because all of a sudden there's just... something that's torn out of them and put inside of someone else. having a soul only to realize it's not yours when the real owner takes it back.

anyway yeah that's mostly what i've got off the top of my head but yknow. ultimately as much as i do like the [it actually is 4 au] stuff too i think the actual situation is soooo cool and also super underutilized tbh it's kind of a shame

[aeoki]

Candy House - Electric Utopia: Chapter 4

Characters: Sora, Natsume & Tsumugi Season: Spring

Tsumugi: Hmm… A company that names itself after a monster sounds pretty scary. What should we do if they turn out to be some sort of anti-social organisation?

Sora: Sora thinks it��ll be fine~

Senpai, you don’t know much about video games so you might not know, but…

“Gorgon Corporation”, in other words, “GC”, is a fairly well-known major game company.

Natsume: That’s their official abbreviation but I don’t really know anyone who calls them “GC”, thouGH. Don’t other video game fans call them “Gor-coRP”? I know I dO.

Sora: They do~♪

They’re the company that mass produces unique puzzle-solving games that use exceptional and complex technology, and their games share an incomprehensible world and story. In other words, we like to call them “our Gor-Corp”! HaHiHuHeHo~♪

Tsumugi: I think I’ve seen that phrase trending on social media before. Oh, so you two were talking about video games.

I thought you were talking about a well-known artist’s imposter.

Sora: That’s Van Gogh~

Anyway, this is amazing! Is it true that “Gor-Corp” wants to form a business partnership with our agency? Is it really them?

Tsumugi: I’m wondering that as well. They seemed rather fishy to me, so I’m asking this “Gorgon Corporation” some questions at the moment…

If it’s just a swindler pretending to be a well-known company, then we should be able to find out if they’re the real thing or not.

Natsume: You mistook Gorgon for Gogh, so I’m surprised you managed to do thAT.

Tsumugi: I just copied and pasted the sentence in the email word for word…

I couldn’t tell what sort of company they were based on their website alone, but now I understand. So they were a video game company.

Sora: Oh~ Their homepage is a bit weird since they’re promoting their latest release right now~

Natsume: It’s supposed to represent the “Is The Company Sane?” phrase, so their website and social media accounts are always oDD.

They’re promoting their new horror game right now, aren’t thEY?

It’s a puzzle-solving game where you end up getting corroded the more you talk to the evil spirits, and you switch places with them in the eND.

Sora: They’re not really evil spirits, but more like a doppelganger? The fake turns into the real person at some point in the story and they take over the original’s life?

It’s a typical “Gor-Corp” video game.

Apparently, it generates a “fake that’s just like the original” based on your social media and browsing history.

That fake then takes over your social media accounts, as if they’ve really turned into the real you.

I wonder how that’s possible with data protection and privacy.

Natsume: HmM~ It’s pretty ambiguous since the video game hasn’t been released yET. “Gor-Corp” has a history of doing illegal things that were enough to file lawsuiTS.

Sora: They’re one of Sora’s favourite game companies, so Sora hopes nothing bad will happen in real life… and the new release won’t be cancelled.

Natsume: I always appreciate their bold style, thouGH.

Tsumugi: Well, since the game has something to do with social media, it sounds fairly modern to me.

Maybe it’s because the idea of having your fake take over your life is one of humanity’s primitive fears, but there are a lot of movies and novels on that topic.

That’s what a real doppelganger would be like.

Natsume: Yeah, there’s a movie I’ve watched that talks about racial issues in a modernistic mannER.

It’s the sort of movie where, at a glance, it looks like an enjoyable comedy flick, but it can get pretty scary when you start thinking deeply about iT.

Sora: The type of story that’s scary when you realise its true meaning, right~?

Tsumugi: Yeah, I think I’ve seen the same one. The director originally came from a comedy background and…

…Oh, it looks like we've received a reply from “Gorgon Corporation” while we were chatting.

Sora: Isn’t that a mouthful to say? Just call them “Gor-Corp”~

Tsumugi: That sounds like I’m looking down on them, so I’d rather not. It feels more like a derogatory term as opposed to a name of endearment.

Sora: Sora supposes it's like playful teasing with love involved? It’s the same as Master~ calling you “Moppy Four-Eyes”, Senpai~♪

Natsume: I’m not calling him that out of love, thouGH.

Tsumugi: …Sorry, could you two be quiet? The company gave us their reply but, hmm, what does this mean?

They also appear to be confused. After I double-checked with them, it seems the business partnership and funding is definitely happening…

But apparently, “Gorgon Corporation” had only checked the details just now.

Sora: ? So what does that mean?

Tsumugi: I’m not sure… Perhaps the higher-ups of the company took it upon themselves to give the partnership the green light?

It looks like they’re investigating the matter right now.

It seems a representative from the company will be coming to our office to give us an explanation.

Natsume: It’s getting more and more suspicious by the minuTE… Hmm, what’s going oN?

Sora: Looks like “Gor-Corp” doesn’t know what’s going on, either~ And we’re in the same boat.

…Hm?

Tsumugi: ? What’s wrong, Sora-kun? Were you able to “see” something?

Sora: No… Sora just got a call from a friend.

It’s the friend Sora was telling Master~ about on the way here.

Natsume: Oh, the one you didn’t get to see for a long time, rigHT?

Sora: Hello? What is it? Sora’s working right now…

Hm? Yeah, we were just talking about “Gor-Corp”~ How’d you know?

Hmm, clairvoyance? What’s that? Sora has probably heard that word before somewhere…

HiHi~♪ You’re the same as Sora, Ecchan – you know lots of things that aren’t needed for survival.

Tsumugi: Ecchan? Wait, is that Eichi-kun? If I remember correctly, I think that’s what Ritsu-kun calls Eichi-kun…

Natsume: Why would you mention hIM? Because money’s involvED?

Sora: Yeah. Okay… Sora doesn’t really get it, but alright.

………?

Natsume: What did your friend sAY?

Sora: Well… Sora doesn’t understand either, but…

The representative from the game company that’s coming to the office is a monster that wears human skin…

Sora’s friend said she’s a witch that has an evil eye, so we shouldn’t believe the things she says.

Tsumugi: ? What? Are you talking about video games again?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[brehaaorgana]

..........I need you to breathe in some fresh air, and think about the fact that I am a real live human being who doesn't fucking know you

Be fucking for real. If you come swinging with sexual insults and "joke threats" because I advised some critical thinking about what I wrote, I am not the one who started being inflammatory.

You're being a complete fucking weirdo. I don't know you. We're not friends. Little joke threats aren't light hearted to me, they're just disturbing threats shouted by an anonymous internet creep. I didn't immediately block you, and I ought to have. I still haven't done it because I carry a shred of hope you might pause in your hopeless soapboxing and sexual insults long enough to realize that you've lost the plot of how to talk to people.

You claim you're not a twitterina or whatever but that is a meaningless statement to me. You have illustrated no substantial difference from any other generic frothingly angry about Corrupt Politics Internet person I've met. The only thing that sets you apart from a generalized mass is where you choose to go next - that's what distinguishes random internet ranters. Again, I don't know you. You are a big question mark unknown. I don't, and can't know if you're genuinely a good person, or if you're going to suddenly start being racist or antisemitic or homophobic. For the record: I don't think you will, but I literally have ZERO data to work with, the same as any other stranger on the internet. The only data I do have is that you're super aggressive, made weird threats, and used sexual insults about sucking dick to a woman (me).

This is what I mean. I don't fucking know you. You're just some generic frothing internet guy (gender neutral) who may or may not continue to escalate their threats and insults.

Anyways:

I'm not phrasing this as a lesser of two evils. That's not a paradigm I'm interested in. I'm not promising voter nirvana or total ethical alignment feel good bullshit. I'm saying "the decision isn't simply picking who you like the best to win, it is also an active choice to prevent other people from winning."

You are hiring someone for a JOB, and the job MUST be filled. It WILL be filled, even if you don't recommend or even like a job candidate. But recommending one means that another job candidate is less likely to get that job. No matter what, someone will take the job. You have leverage in the decision of who does or does not get that job. If you decide not to use that leverage, then that usually means more weight in the leverage for your ideological opposition (whatever that is.) The job will be filled.

Mathematically it is UNAVOIDABLE: who you vote for matters when determining winners of an election, as well as who you don't vote for. Choices should be made with this understanding in mind. This is just how math works. There are electoral systems which weight individual votes better or more fairly than others, ones which are less prone to rampant corruption, and so on, but literally all of them do this to some extent. That's just how probability to win something works.

No one is saying the electoral college is flawless and yes you should be mad a popular election's results can be overridden.

Local politics are, in fact, important which is why I go and vote to make sure the book banning weirdo doesn't take charge in the school districts. (It was a success. Hooray!) Maybe you think they're all hyper wealthy Reganites but the reality is often much less glamorous.

Tl;Dr: aggressive threats are not fun lighthearted jokes to strangers please touch a plant and get a grip.

Something that I want people to remember is that in a democratic election, who you vote for and who you don't vote for are both meaningful. Voting for someone is also not voting for someone else.

If the vote you cast goes to someone who will not win, and has no chance of winning, then that vote just gets "taken away" from a more mainstream candidate's potential numbers. This is "dividing the voter base" or dividing the voter potential.

Effectively that usually decreases one of the mainstream candidate's chances of winning, making it easier for another opposing candidate to win. Sometimes you will vote for someone who you criticize, who you dislike, who has policies that you disagree with — because you really don't want their opponent to win.

And someone will absolutely win the election. At the end of the day, someone does have to win. Mathematically, if you choose not to vote for someone, you absolutely do have to consider whose win is now easier for them to achieve. You're not just considering who you do vote for directly, or who you directly aren't voting for.

You're weighing who is more or less likely to win if a particular candidate gains or loses a vote. You have to remember that.

[fideidefenswhore]

Interestingly, she is not described at first by Chapuys as a meek obedient woman, and he continues, saying “is said to be rather proud and haughty”, which clashes somewhat with other assertions about her. There is evidence that Jane was ambitious, certainly as ambitious as Anne, but it was a quiet and determined ambition, carefully nurtured by her supporters. Her supporters, apart from her immediate family, included Sir Nicholas Carew, a cousin of Anne Boleyn’s who actively worked against her and mentored Jane in how to keep the King’s interest. Historian David Starkey has a similar view of Jane, and queries whether she was truly such a door mat as later described. Was it such a different situation from Anne supplanting Katherine? The answer, simply, is no. Jane found herself in the same position that Anne once enjoyed, and Anne experienced that terrible and dangerous position of an unwanted wife It cannot be denied that the Seymours actively worked against Anne, and plotted to replace her with Jane. One of the first examples of the strategies employed by the Seymours is the rather hasty change of their family crest. Originally the Seymour crest comprised of a Peacock’s head and neck, its wings in mid flight. As David Starkey points out, Peacocks traditionally represented pride – hardly something that the Seymours would not want affiliated with Jane, as the badge had to reflect the projected idea of Jane as meek and subservient. It was quickly remedied, with a few brushstrokes transforming the Peacock to a Phoenix – the symbol of self sacrifice.  The coup against Anne moved quickly, with Jane quickly stepping in to replace Anne, but Jane was not as well loved by the people as some historians have suggested. The people found it hard to believe that Henry had a convenient backup wife in the wings, while his present wife’s name was being dragged through the mud. Chapuys observed that “although everybody rejoices at the execution of the putain, there are some who murmur at the mode of procedure against her and the others, and people speak variously of the King.” Few can deny that the official portrait of Jane, with her weak chin and pallor, is bland, so bland in comparison with the striking portraits of Anne. But it is this blandness that has allowed historians to treat Jane as a blank canvas, projecting their own personal views of her [...] She is harshly judged for usurping Anne, and accused of having no sympathy or empathy for anyone around her. We cannot possibly know what she may or may not have felt, just as we don’t truly know if Anne felt any sympathy for Katherine when she replaced her.

Redefining the Myth

been thinking of paragraph four in particular, that’s sort of the most well-known contemporary quote that gives credence to that opinion, but there were more that support it...such as:

“I hear say the king is now married and to one of the same generation as evil as the other Queen was before. The devil is in him, for he is past grace; he will never amend in this world.”

Nicholas Heath [indictment of 1538, a late date for the indictment, but it’s a report of an earlier incident and it thus could have been about no other...]

[hellofeanor]

Fëanorian Quenya

Hey friends! Do you like elves? Do you like the Silmarillion? Do you like Fëanor and co? And most of all, do you like spending hours thinking about minor details pertaining to made-up languages??? If so, boy do I have a treat for you! Let’s delve into the weird world of Fëanorian Quenya and explore some history and mechanics of why they talk Like That.

I’ve seen a lot of posts joking about the Fëanorian lisp, which is about as funny as a joke about a speech impediment can be. 👍 It’s important to understand, though, that this IS a joke. No, they didn’t really speak with a lisp. Yes, they did pronounce some S sounds as TH. That’s the critical disclaimer here: SOME. It’s not a blanket pronunciation. There’s a lot of background research that goes into determining which words would be pronounced with S and which would be TH, and that’s what we’re going to look at.

So if this is something you’ve come across in fandom and you’re not totally sure on the details, or if you ARE sure and just want some more in-depth info, read on.

The stuff probably everybody knows already

For anyone who’s been hanging around the Fëanorian corner of the Silm fandom for more than three minutes, there’s about a 100% chance you’ve heard of Fëanor’s penchant for retaining an archaic TH pronunciation after the majority of the Noldor went ahead and started pronouncing this sound as S instead. You may also know that this sound is represented by the letter thorn (Þ) in HoME, but since thorn doesn’t exist in modern English orthography and it’s a pain to keep typing the ALT code, I’m sticking to TH here. Anyway, all this was due to the fact that Fëanor was a huge mama’s boy, and his mom Míriel Therindë (later called Serindë, which made Fëanor want to punch walls and possibly also fellow elves) was an outlier who retained the TH after it fell out of use. Her son Fëanor, in turn, kept this up to honor her. Now, whether or not he would have bothered if this sound hadn’t literally been a critical part of her name is debatable, but that debate is outside the scope of this essay.

Fëanor continued to use the TH pronunciation until his death, and required his sons to use it as well. Finwë, however, switched over to S after the death of Míriel and before his marriage to Indis. Fëanor, reasonable and level-headed as he was, took this as a personal insult and decided that anybody who rejected TH likewise rejected him. So presumably, his loyal followers would have obeyed his totally reasonable demands not to give in to the seductive S-shift.

Why tho

Why did the Noldor decide to alter their pronunciation from TH to S? Great question. Nobody really knows. For the hell of it? IDK. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But the important thing to understand is that elves, and especially Noldor, were really committed to making sure their language sounds cool. This is why it changed so much and so comparatively quickly for an immortal population: they were actively invested in changing it. They liked inventing new words and exploring new sounds and messing around with grammar.

So at some point some influential Noldo might have been like, hey y’all, let’s stop saying TH and say S instead! And everyone (except Míriel I guess, who was known for her elegant manner of speech and didn’t want to muck that up by changing pronunciation of a whole letter) was like, whoa, capital idea my good egg. And they went with it. Previous ideas along these lines included ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying KH and say H instead’ and ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying Z and say R instead’, and those went over swimmingly. Nobody could have foreseen the problem this TH to S business would cause.

Now here’s a fun fact. There was another change to Noldorin pronunciation that happened AFTER Fëanor’s birth, that he himself was involved in. This one was all about bilabial to labiodental F. And those sure are some words, so if you don’t know what I’m talking about (I don’t blame you), BILABIAL is a more whispery sound that happens when you say F using only air passing through your pursed lips, and LABIODENTAL is when you say F with your top teeth touching your bottom lip. Going forward I’m going to use PH to represent the bilabial sound, and F for the labiodental.

So F got on the radar of the Noldor via the Teleri, who used this sound in their language. And ol’ Fëanor figured it would be awesome to incorporate it into Quenya because he thought the PH sounded too close to HW, and the two were getting confused by lazy speakers. Why did he care? Because of his dad’s name and his own, of course. If people started to get lazy in their pronunciation, we’d end up with Hwinwë and Hwëanáro, which would be terrible and stupid and unacceptable. He accused the Vanyar of leaning down that road, and he wanted to stop that kind of shift before it happened to the Noldor. How to do that? Why, by instigating a different shift from traditional Noldorin PH to Telerin F!

“Hey y’all, let’s stop saying PH and say F instead!”

“Whoa, capital idea my good egg.”

Moral of the story: Fëanor is only concerned with Quenya pronunciation insofar as it affects his own name and the names of family members he likes. He does not care whether it’s staying the same or moving to a new sound so long as it personally makes him feel good and his name sound cool. Therefore the true way to piss him off would be to call him Curuhwinwë Hwëanáro, son of Serindë.

Okay so here’s how it works

Now that history is out of the way, let’s get back to how TH was used by the Fëanorians. As I mentioned earlier, TH wasn’t a blanket pronunciation. It all depended on the original form of the word, and whether the root had a TH or an S. And some very similar-sounding words come from different roots, so this can get tricky. A great resource that’ll give you this information is Eldamo: Quenya words where the S was originally TH are marked out with the Þ (thorn) symbol in the wordlist.

Some examples:

Súlë (spirit, breath) comes from the root THŪ, which means it would be pronounced with a TH. Silma (white crystal) comes from the root SIL, so it and related words like Silmaril would be pronounced with an S. No Fëanorian would say Thilmaril. Isil (moon), however, is a similar-sounding word that comes from a different root: THIL. Olos (mass of flowers) comes from the word LOTH, but: Olos (dream) comes from the root LOS. Fëanorian pronunciation would immediately differentiate between these two words.

While Fëanorians may have retained the distinct pronunciation of TH vs S, other Noldor can still differentiate between original S and S-that-used-to-be-TH in their writing. There are specific tengwar to use depending on the word’s original form. Silmë (the one that looks like a 6) is used for original S, while súlë (or thúlë, the one that looks like an h) is used for original TH.

Which other elves used this sound in their speech?

Fandom has really latched on to this TH as a Fëanorian thing, but it wasn’t that exclusively. The TH sound was actually ubiquitous in other elven languages, and in Valinor, only the Noldor dropped it. It was still used in Telerin and in Vanyarin Quendya. The Vanyar retained the TH not because of anything to do with Míriel, but just because they were a little more conservative and their language didn’t pick up on all the changes that the Noldor made. They also noped out of the Z to R shift the Noldor initiated, opting to keep the Z around.

When Indis married Finwë, she stopped using the normal Vanyarin TH and switched over to S as a gesture of loyalty to him and his people. Finarfin, however, out of love for the Vanyar and Teleri, switched BACK to TH. I like to think about how much it would have annoyed Fëanor that his snot-nosed kid brother was speaking correctly, but for the wrong reason. Go down one more generation, and Galadriel very specifically did not use TH. But this time it was absolutely a choice made as a glaring middle finger to Fëanor.

What this means for your fanfic or whatever

The big takeaway here: you can’t just have Fëanorians replace every S with TH and call it a day.

If you’re inventing names for your Fëanorian OCs or coming up with phrases for them to say, it’s important to look into the history of all Quenya S-words you end up using to determine if they should be S or TH. If Fëanor got mad about somebody saying Serindë instead of Therindë, he’d get equally mad about somebody saying Thilmaril instead of Silmaril and assume they were mocking him. Remember: this is a dude with no chill. (On the other hand, if you WANT somebody to be mocking Fëanor, Galadriel would 100% do this because she has an equally negligible amount of chill.)

It’s also important to note that the TH isn’t a true shibboleth, since pretty much all elves EXCEPT the non-Fëanorian Noldor use it. And even the S-preferring Noldor would still be able to pronounce the TH. Those who went into exile would go on to use it commonly in Sindarin, and those who remained in Valinor would still encounter it among the Vanyar and Teleri. So if you’re writing a scene where somebody has to pronounce a TH word to prove their loyalty… yeah, everyone can pass this test. And in the opposite direction, you can’t use TH to prove somebody’s an evil Fëanorian, either. They might just be Vanyarin or something. Or, like. Really Old.

Would the sons (and followers) of Fëanor keep using TH after his death? Oh hell yeah. This is an entire family unfamiliar with the concept of not dying on hills. They will keep using it unto the ending of the world. Actually, with Sindarin becoming the common language of Middle-earth from the First Age, probably not a lot of change happened in exilic Quenya. It became a lore language: a piece of living history. It would have been preserved as it was when the original speakers left Valinor.

(And then, thousands of years later, Galadriel finally returns home to Tirion like, Long have mine eyes awaited this most blissful of sights, and ne’er hath my sprit soared with such grace, for I am returned! And all the Amanyar Noldor stare at her like, whatchu bangin on bout, eh? Because they had nothing better to do in the peace of Valinor than push Quenya to brave and frankly questionable new horizons.)

Anyway, there you go: a somewhat brief history of Fëanorian Quenya. I hope you found this informative and useful, or at the very least not boring. Obvs this is super condensed and, uh, not particularly scholarly, but I promise I know what I’m talking about. I have a university degree! (Not in anything even remotely related to what’s written above, but I hardly see how that’s relevant. It’s still a DEGREE.)

Questions? Need clarification or want more info? My asks are always open!

[supercantaloupe]

okay yeah actually, i’ll bite. i’ve got some of my own thoughts about the unsleeping city and cultural representation and i’m gonna make a post about them now, i guess. i’ll put it under a cut though because this post is gonna be long.

i wanna start by saying i love dimension 20 and i really really enjoy the unsleeping city. i look forward to watching new episodes every week, and getting hooked on d20 as a whole last summer really helped pull me out of a pandemic depression, and i’m grateful to have this cool show to be excited about and interested in and to have met so many cool people to talk about it with.

that being said, however, i think there is a risk run in representing any group of people/their culture when you have the kind of setting that tuc has. by which i mean, tuc is set in a real world with real people and real human cultures in it. unlike fantasy high or a crown of candy where everything is made up (even if rooted in real-world cultures), tuc is explicitly rooted in reality, and all of its diversity -- both the ups and downs that go with it. and especially set in new york of all places, one of the most densely, diversely populated cities on earth. the cast is 7 people; it’s great that those 7 people come from a variety of backgrounds and identities and all bring their own unique perspectives to the table, and it’s great that those people and the entire crew are generally conscious of themselves and desire to tell stories/represent perspectives ethically. but you simply cannot authentically represent every culture or every perspective in the world (or even just in a city) when your cast is 7 people. it’s an impossible task. this is inherent to the setting, and acknowledged by the cast, and by brennan especially, who has been on record saying how one of the exciting aspects of doing a campaign set in nyc is its diversity, the fact that no two new yorkers have the same perspective of new york. i think that’s a good thing -- but it does have its challenges too, clearly.

i’m not going to go into detail on the question of whether or not tuc’s presentation of asian and asian american culture is appropriative/offensive or not. first of all, i don’t feel like it’s 100% fair to judge the show completely yet, since it’s a prerecorded season and currently airing midseason, so i don’t yet know how things wrap up. secondly, i’m not asian or asian american. i can have my own opinions on that content in the show, but i think it’s worth more to hear actual asian and asian american voices on this specific aspect of the show. having an asian american cast member doesn’t automatically absolve the show of any criticisms with regard to asian american cultural representation/appropriation, whether those criticisms are made by dozens of viewers or only a handful of them. regardless, i don’t think it’s my place as someone who is not asian to speak with any authority on that issue, and i know for a fact that there are asian american viewers sharing their own opinions. their thoughts in this instance hold more water than mine, i think.

what i will comment on in more depth, though, is a personal frustration with tuc. i’m jewish; i’ve never really been shy about that fact on my page here. i’m not from new york, but i visit a few times a year (or i did before covid anyway, lol), and i have some family from nyc. nyc, to me, is a jewish city. and for good reason, since it’s home to one of the largest jewish populations of the country, and even the world, and aspects of jewish culture (including culinary, like bagels and pastrami, and linguistic, like the common use of yiddish words and phrases in english colloquial speech) are prevalent and celebrated among jews and goyim alike. when i think of nyc, i think of a jewish city; that’s not everybody’s new york, but that’s my new york, and thats plenty of other people’s new york too. so i do find myself slightly disappointed or frustrated in tuc for its, in my opinion, rather stark lack of jewish representation.

now, i’m not saying that one of the PCs should have been jewish, full stop. i love to headcanon iga as jewish even though canon does not support that interpretation, and i’m fine with that. she’s not my character. it’s possible that simply no one thought of playing a jewish character, i dunno. but also, and i can’t be sure about this, i’m willing to bet that none of the players really wanted to play a jewish character because they didn’t want to play a character of a marginalized culture they dont belong to in the interest of avoiding stereotyping or offensive representation/cultural appropriation. (i don’t know if any of the cast members are jewish, but i’m assuming not.) and the concern there is certainly appreciated; there’s not a ton of mainstream jewish rep out there, and often what we get is either “unlikeable overly conservative hassidic jew” or “jokes about their bar mitzvah/one-off joke about hanukkah and then their jewishness is never mentioned ever again,” which sucks. it would be really cool to see some more good casual jewish rep in a well-rounded, three-dimensional character in the main cast of a show! even if there are a couple of stumbles along the way -- nobody is perfect and no two jews have the same level of knowledge, dedication, and adherence to their culture.

but at the same time, i look at characters like iga and i really do long for a jewish character to be there. siobhan isn’t polish, yet she’s playing a characters whose identity as a polish immigrant to new york is very central to her story and arc. and part of me wonders why we can’t have the same for a jewish character. if not a PC, then why not an NPC? again, i’m jewish, and i am not native, but in my opinion i think the inclusion of jj is wonderful -- i think there are even fewer native main characters in mainstream media than there are jewish ones, and it’s great to see a native character who is both in touch with their culture as well as not being defined solely by their native-ness. to what extent does it count as ‘appropriative’ because brennan is a white dude? i dunno, but i’m like 99% sure they talked to sensitivity consultants to make sure the representation was as ethical as they could get it, and anyway, i can’t personally see and glaring missteps so far. but again, i’m not native, and if there are native viewers with their own opinions on jj, i’d be really interested in hearing them.

but getting back to the relative lack of jewish representation. it just...disappoints me that jewishness in new york is hardly ever even really mentioned? again, i know we’re only just over halfway through season 2, but also, we had a whole first season too. and it’s definitely not all bad. for example: willy! gd, i love willy so much. him being a golem of williamsburg makes me really really happy -- a jewish mythological creature animated from clay/mud (in this case bricks) to protect a jewish community (like that of williamsburg, a center for many of nyc’s jews) from threat. golem have so often been taken out of their original context and turned into evil monsters in fantasy settings, especially including dnd. (even within other seasons of d20! crush in fh being referred to as a “pavement golem” always rubbed me the wrong way, and i had hoped they’d learned better after tuc but in acoc they refer to another monster as a “corn golem” which just disappointed me all over again.) so the fact that tuc gets golems right makes my jewish heart very happy.

and yet...he doesn’t show up that much? sure, in s1, he’s very helpful when he does, but in s2 so far he shows up once and really does not say or do much of anything. he speaks with a lot more yiddish-influenced language than other characters, but if you didn’t know those words were specifically yiddish/jewish, you might not be able to otherwise clock the fact that willy is jewish. and while willy is a jewish mythological creature who is jewish in canon, he isn’t human. there are no other direct references to judaism, jewish characters, or jewish culture in the unsleeping city beyond him.

there are, in fact, two other canon jewish characters in tuc. but...here’s where i feel the most frustration, i think. the two canon jewish humans in tuc are stephen sondheim and robert moses. both of whom are real actual people, so it’s not like we can just pick and choose what their cultural backgrounds are. as much as i love stephen sondheim, i think there are inherent issues with including real world people as characters in a fictional setting, especially if they are from living/recent memory (sondheim is literally still alive), but anyway, sondheim and moses are both actual jewish people. from watching tuc alone you probably would not be able to guess that sondheim is jewish -- nothing from his character except name suggests it, and i wouldn’t even fault you for not thinking ‘sondheim’ is a jewish-sounding surname (and i dislike the idea/attitude/belief that you can tell who is or isn’t jewish by the sound of their name). and yeah, i’m not going to sit here and be like “brennan should have made sondheim more visibly jewish in canon!” because, like, he’s a real human being and it’s fucking weird to portray him in a way that isn’t as close to how he publicly presents himself, which is not in fact very identifiably jewish? i don’t know, this is what i mean by it’s inherently weird and arguably problematic to portray real living people as characters in a fictional setting, but i digress. sondheim’s jewish, even if you wouldn’t know it; not exactly a representation win.

and then there’s bob moses. you might be able to guess that he’s jewish from canon, actually. there’s the name, of course. but more insidious to me are the specifics of his villainy. greedy and powerhungry, a moneyman, a lich whose power is stored in a phylactery...it does kind of all add up to a Yikes from me. (in the stock market fight there’s a one-off line asking if he has green skin; it’s never really directly acknowledged or answered, but it made me really uncomfortable to hear at first and it’s stuck with me since viewing for the first time.) the issue for me here is that the most obviously jewish human character is the season’s bbeg, and his villainy is rooted in very antisemitic tropes and stereotypes.

i know this isn’t all brennan’s fault -- robert moses was a real ass person and he was in fact jewish, a powerhungry and greedy moneyman, a big giant racist asshole, etc. i’m not saying that jewish characters can’t be evil, and i’m not saying brennan should have tried to be like “this is my NPC robert christian he’s just like bob moses but instead he’s a goy so it’s okay” because...that would be fuckin weird bro. and bob moses was a real person who was jewish and really did do some heinous shit with his municipal power. i’m not necessarily saying brennan should have picked/created a different character to be the villain. i’m not even saying that he shouldn’t have made bob moses a lich (although, again, it doesn’t 100% sit right with me). but my point here is that bob moses is one of a grand total of three canon jewish characters in tuc, of which only two humans, of whom he is the one you’d most easily guess would be jewish and is the most influenced by antisemitic stereotypes/tropes. had there been more jewish representation in the show at all, even just some neutral jewish NPCs, this would not be as much of a problem as it is to me. but halfway through season 2, so far, this is literally all we get. and that bums me out.

listen, i really like tuc. i love d20. but the fact that it is set in a real world place with real world people does inherently raise challenges when it comes to ethical cultural representation. especially when the medium of the show is a game whose creatures, lore, and mechanics have been historically rooted in some questionable racial/cultural views. and dnd is making progress to correct some of those misguided views of older sourcebooks by updating them to more equitably reflect real world racial/cultural sensitivities; that’s a good thing! but these seasons, of course, were recorded before that. the game itself has some questionable cultural stuff baked into it, and that is (almost necessarily) going to be brought to the table in a campaign set in a real-world place filled with real-world people of diverse real-world cultures. the cast can have sensitivity consultants and empathy and the best intentions in the world, and they’ll still fuck up from time to time, that’s okay. your mileage may vary on whether or not it’s still worth sticking around with the show (or the fandom) through that. for me, it does not yet outweigh all the things i like about the show, and i’m gonna continue watching it. but it’s still very worth acknowledging that the cast is 7 people who cannot possibly hope to authentically or gracefully represent every culture in nyc. it’s an unfortunate limitation of the medium. yet it’s also still worthwhile to acknowledge and discuss the cultural representation as it is in the show -- both the goods and the bads, the ethically solid and the questionably appropriative -- and even to hold the creators accountable. (decently, though. i’m definitely not advocating anybody cyberbully brennan on twitter or whatever.) the show and its representation is far from perfect, but i also don’t think it ever could be. still, though, it could always be better, and there’s a worthwhile discussion to be had in the wheres, hows, and whys of that.

[accio-victuuri]

Hello Anon! Sorry I had to cut some parts cause this got too long. For everyone else, Anon is actually very critical with their words and just really wants some explanation. So. I will just answer this whole thing once and I doubt my view on this will change anytime soon. As more modified-bl dramas comes out, I know I’ll get this. We don’t even have Immortality out yet. lol.

It’s okay to have this feeling. If you tried to watch it and it’s not making you happy, it’s okay. I am very bad w/ watching dramas and series in general so I will 99.9% not watch anything else that does not have Web or GG in it. My stance on this will always be: There is no need to pit them against each other. I also cannot prove you wrong. No one can prove that but the people who are actually behind the scenes with this project.

So now to the other parts of this ask.

• similar scenes - I did see a lot of this comparison shots on Wb, like they really did put these scenes side by side. So I know what you’re talking about. Even that cliff scene. What I think here is it’s a matter of tropes used in Danmei stories. This can be one explanation on why there are similar storylines. Like if we’re talking about epic fantasies, there is always a wise old wizard, the chosen one and the loyal best friend. even in shounen animes, there are similar themes. a formula, if you wanna call it that.

Some common tropes in Danmei: Rebirth, Space-time travel, Master/apprentice, Evil leaders, Dragons, shifters, Immortals, power struggles and ghosts.

I bet someone who has read a lot from this genre will be able to point out more common themes that we are sure to see w/ these stories/dramas.

• promo poster - there is also another drama with the same look. Again, we cannot verify for sure. that’s the problem w/ things like this. No one owns that “pose” anyway. Yes it can be very 👀 but it’s unfair to judge the entire show because of that.

• same phrases in interviews - lol anon. I will not search. I barely have time to do things that are not on my schedule plus i’m not really interested. tho i think i saw this in passing. something to do with atop the snowy mountain/ side by side which is really bjyx’s thing. Again. We can’t tell. As with how the promos are going, I can’t really fault the producers or whoever is in charge for taking some inspiration from cql promos. I mean, it was wildly successful. So if you’re someone who wants to go the same route, wouldn’t you look at something like CQL for reference? I don’t wanna take it as blatant copying. These observations that you see are almost all from people who are already critical w/ the show. So they already have that bias and just waiting for WoH to slip.

There is no such thing as an ORIGINAL IDEA in media. being inspired by something is also usually not a bad thing. At this point, I honestly don’t know what these other upcoming dramas can do to be considered original. I don’t think there is anything they can do to please other people. I feel bad for every other drama of the same genre that comes after CQL. which is something i’ve thought of even before any other projects got announced.

I also just wanna add that this xx pair copying how bjyx interacts in promos is just so weird to me. Of course it’s a show where they play lovers so what do you guys expect? they have to sell the CP. or maybe they are really good friends. I don’t see this nitpicking with het pairs. No one is saying xx pair is copying xx pair. Everyone knows that what these actors do in promos have some sort of direction from production. This is why during CQL promos up until 2019 tencent star awards, most of us had that “but is it really szd?” question in our head. 🙃 There is no point in comparing, of course it will be different because bjyxszd.

Okay, hope this helped Anon. It’s okay to stop watching things you don’t like but I hope you don’t end up hating them. Just ignore it and spend more of your time on things you actually like. 

[jamilelucato]

Best Teacher, Part 3 || Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: y/N is a pureblood Slytherin best friends with Harry Potter, but not yet that close to the Weasleys until she’s invited to spend Christmas with them.

PART 1 || PART 2

A/N: It’s the last chapter, hope you’re all just excited as I am. I must say, it would have been better if I had published it on Christmas but I just couldn’t wait. So, if you want my advice, reread it on Christmas.

*gif below actually mine and I'm so proud

The first thing you realised when you got out of the bathroom was that you had the wrong wand. At first sight, you had no idea why or how. It was only when you kept on thinking that you remembered when you could have swapped it.

The night before had been... well, interesting, to say the least. You could still feel Fred's touch, even if it had passed hours. Heck! You had showered and you still could smell his perfume on you! 

To any help, once you finally managed to quiet your thoughts and sleep, he was there, visiting you in your dreams, just to kiss you again.

You were not complaining, though. Yeah, yeah, you had a resting bitch face when you got downstairs, which caused Ginny to ask you if anything was wrong.

"Slept on my wrong side, I guess" you answered, short and sharp.

She looked at you like she couldn't recognize the girl in front of her, and, to be fair, neither could you. You tended to be grumpy, especially in the morning, but never that grumpy.

It didn't make sense. You had just been kissed like you had been waiting your whole life to, and now you walked around acting terrible.

The Weasley Twins were not yet on the breakfast table. The boys — all of the boys in the house — were late for breakfast, that was their mom's complaint in the morning.

"I just know they are up to something, I know they are" she finished, seeing you and Ginny walk in. "Good morning, girls".

You tried faking a smile, but it felt too hard so you gave up. Mrs Weasley didn't even notice, going back to the stove, not waiting for a reply. You sat right next to Ginny, avoiding the chair where you were happy to sit one day ago.

"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. You were not able to conclude if she meant all her brothers or just the twins, but you were curious just like her.

"Percy's in the bathroom" Mr Weasley answered, not showing his face because of the newspaper he held. "Ron and Harry overslept, I suppose."

You started madding up, desperately wanting to know the explanation for Fred and George's disappearance. They were, surprisingly, generally the firsts to eat breakfast and their absence on the table made your stomach boil up.

"Want an egg, dear?" Molly asked you after placing a scrambled egg in front of her daughter.

"No, thanks. Not that hungry today" your answer surprised Mrs Weeasley, but she didn't bother insisting. 

You were avoiding asking about the twins, but after pouring yourself a cup of milk — and remembering the night before — you just couldn't take the unknown anymore. "Where are Fred and George?"

Ginny was the first to look at you, slowly smiling as she was understanding your curiosity. She, before even you, noticed you three were up to something bigger than pranking everyone in the house. You suspected she even knew about the secret midnight getaways, but she was too embarrassed to say a thing. 

Mrs Weasley pointed a finger at you, letting go of the frying panhandle in a gasp. "See? The visitors noticed it is weird!" her voice was louder than before, her eyes wide open at Mr Weasley direction.

The husband let go of his newspaper, which fell on his lap. He rolled his eyes — a habit that you now understood it was very common for the Weasleys.

"Dear Merlin, woman, I believe they are alright. If they were up to no good, we would have known by now" he said, in a fail attempt of calming down his wife.

Molly simply got back facing the house's stove, but she didn't look pleased. "I swear if I catch them doing evil spells again..." but she never finished her threat.

Percy finally got down to the kitchen, sitting at his father's right. "Good morning, family. Good morning, y/N."

You were in no mood of being nice so you just mockingly smiled at him. Ginny chocked with her mug on hand, almost spitting the drink.

Harry and Ron came down the stairs laughing, but their giggles died once they sat on the table. Harry was polite enough to wish us all a good morning, but Ron didn't do so, he just sat next to you with a weird expression on his face.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, realising the missing pieces of the breakfast table.

"They weren't in their rooms," Mr Weasley said, finally revealing to you what you had been most curious about. "So I don't know where they can be."

Alas, that only left you with a lot more questions. What could they possibly be doing? Was it your fault? Could Fred have asked for his twin's help to disappear from the house just because you kissed him? If that was the case, good Merlin, your mood for the morning was less than appropriate. That was it. Fred hated you and was disgusted by the kiss. You were a shame for your name.

"They are not planning on dye my hair again, are they?" Ron asked, facing you. 

You shook your head. "Don't ask me, I don't quite understand those two myself" you replied, drinking all your milk with one gulp.

Ginny was about to burst into laughter, so she filled her mouth with her mom's scrambled eggs. Ron, on the other hand, kept on staring at you, like he was trying to catch something you didn't say. Harry looked at you sympathetically but said nothing.

Even after breakfast, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley kept on arguing about their missing kids, and you were eavesdropping, in hopes to listen to anything at all that could contain important information.

"That's rude, did you know?" Harry's voice whispered. You looked back to face the boy that had a smile. He sat next to you on the couch while you closed the book you held in case you needed a disguise since that didn't work out.

"It's just... I'm worried" you confessed, unwilling to pretend. Harry was the one you used to tell everything, so why not this? He might be able to help you, anyway.

"They're fine. They got my invisibility cloak this morning, so I think it's some prank they're organising" Harry explained, pressing his lips together at the end of the sentence. He seemed more worried about you than the boys, and you thought that could only mean you didn't have to worry.

"You allowed it?" you asked, knowing how much that cloak meant to Harry.

"I owe them a lot. Besides, they'll return it to me." he shrugged.

You stared at your best friend for a while, not knowing what to say. One thing was telling him that you were concerned about the twins' escape; telling him that you might have feelings for Fred was a whole other.

Harry Potter sighed. "Look, I don't know how to say this but... I'm sure he feels the same"

His commentary caught you by surprise.

"What?"

"Fred Weasley," Harry said, like that explained everything. Noticing you were still very much confused, he added: "This mix of thing you're feeling, he's totes feeling the same"

You raised an eyebrow at that information. There was a reason for you to have been friends with Harry besides all the odds — you two understood each other in a level that no other two persons have ever. It was like that when you found him about to cry on your second year, and it was like that right now, with him staring at you as he knew of your secrets.

"Am I that obvious?" you asked, giggling nervously.

He smiled, sympathetic. "I don't think so 'cause he and Ron haven't noticed it yet"

"Ron?" you replied, perplexed, which caused Harry to laugh a bit too loud.

"Yeah... He thinks you plan on killing his brother or something" he revealed. "I don't blame him, you do look at Fred sometimes like you want to explode his head"

"Yes! Because he's so dimwitted!" your exclamation made you both burst into laughter, so much, you lost your breath. 

It was good talking to Harry and realising your friendship was still pure and genuine, even if Harry's life was in danger all the time and you sounded like a spoiled child.

"Wait a minute" once you calmed down, a question popped in your head "When you say only Fred and Ron doesn't know about — hmm my crush, let's say — you mean that the rest of the family knows?"

"Well of course! George is even jealous of how much time you two have been spending together!" Harry said, leaning closer to you "Ginny thinks it's cute, on the other hand"

You glanced at him, with smirk "Ginny, huh? Talking to her a lot, are we?" He rolled his eyes. 

"Don't be stupid" his phrase made you start laughing all over again.

***

When George and Fred finally showed up, the sun was almost gone.

Molly Weasley awaited for them close to the front door, holding somewhat of kitchen utensil, that you weren't able to recognize due to the distance.

You, Ginny, Ron, Percy and Potter were having a picnic outside. After the food was all eaten, Percy got back to his room, but the rest of you stayed there, laying on the tablecloth on the grass, watching the clouds and making jokes. 

It was Ron that first saw his brothers arriving because he heard his mom's screams. To be fair, it didn't take long for all of you to hear her screams as well.

Ron desperately wanted to get up and be closer to the scene, but Ginny advised him it'd be better to stay. His mom could start punishing him too.

"WHERE WERE YOU TWO??" Molly asked, making herself heard all around the neighbourhood.

Fred had Harry's cloak on his hands, you recognized it, but he also had a bag in his hands that you didn't know what could it be.

George looked scared of his mom, so he was the first to talk. Although you couldn't hear him — differently from his mom, he wasn't screaming —, you imagined he was explaining where they went 'cause he held up to white plastic bags.

"YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME! OR LEAVE A NOTE! THERE WERE SO MANY ALTERNATIVES!" Molly pointed out, making the twins duck their heads.

You could swear you heard they say "I'm sorry" and then she let them in. Not before exclaiming "After you come back from Hogwarts, you won't be allowed out of the house!"

You wondered if she was gonna remember that punishment once they were back.

"Where do you think they were?" you asked Ginny.

"I think they went to buy presents," Ginny said, not looking at you, still facing the house entrance.

"HA! As if our brothers would buy us anything" Ron had a weird face on and got up as soon as he realised the path was clear.

"I didn't say it was for us" Ginny replied, turning slowly to face you. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the eyes to fall upon you too.

"Bloody hell" grunted Ron, before rolling his eyes and forcing Harry to leave with him.

***

Christmas Eve was an event of not much importance at the y/L/N household. Her mom would make the house-elves put on some decorations for Christmas, like a tree and maybe some lights, but that was that. They would have a bigger than the already big dinners the house had, y/N's parents would give her presents, and after that, they'd go to bed. 

No hugging near the fireplace, no jokes about the holiday and no visit of the rest of the family to fill the house. To feel a bit less lonely,  you used to ask the three house-elves of the house to eat with you at the table, however, they generally refused. To make it up, you'd leave after dinner to eat some cake with them in the kitchen.

All that way of celebration was nothing close to the Weasleys' Christmas Eve. After the twins' arrival, Molly Weasley put all the kids to work, instructing you where to put every single decoration she had stored, and she had a lot. Percy and Mr Weasley got responsible for the tree, and they did a pretty good job with it.

Ginny would make you laugh now and then because she used to stop decorating the walls to put the ornaments on herself.

Although avoiding each other, you'd lock eyes with Fred from time to time, you simply couldn't avoid it. To break the stares, Ginny would fake cough right next to you, in a way of calling out your attention. It helped, because, you were not in the mood to gaze at Fred. 

Ok, it might have been you the one to run away after the kiss, but it was in the middle of the night. Besides, he was the one missing in the next morning, so, some part of your brain decided that he should be the one to talk to you first. The only problem was that he didn't seem ready to do so.

"Dinner's ready, kids!" Mrs Weasley called out for you all.

You followed Ginny, sitting right next to her like you had done it in the morning. Fred faced you, confused by your change of seats, but he didn't say a thing. Molly had prepared such a big feast that you were surprised she could have done it all on her own. Of course, the meal at your house was way bigger, but you couldn't blame her, she just didn't have house-elves for the rescue.

"It tastes like Heaven, Mrs Weasley!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your pleasure for the deliciousness that woman had prepared.

The Weasleys' mom smiled shyly, her cheeks turning red. "Well, thank you, y/N! It's nice to hear such a good compliment! You guys should learn with her."

The way she replied made you selfconscious. Ron immediately faced you, with an angry look, like you had ruined his whole life. Mr Weasley and Percy were smiling at your politeness, but you couldn't see because you were facing the only one you shouldn't.

Fred Weasley lifted his eyes from his food to you, trying to hide his smile. The truth was that he was really happy to see you hit it off with his mom.

"Oh, and dear, what did I say about my name?" Mrs Weasley said, forcing you to face her instead of Fred, which you were thankful.

"Sorry, Molly" you replied, using her name. She smiled back at you.

*** After everyone got full with not only the dinner but also the dessert, Molly cleaned the table without letting you get up.

"Wait, you fools. I want to give you your presents" she said, getting up from her chair. She got a plastic bag from somewhere behind her seat and started distributing what looked like handmade winter clothes.

"There you go, husband... Percy... Dear Ginny" she stopped herself to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Harry, I got you something too. As well for you, y/N, just let me find it" she sank her hand further into the bag.

"Oh, but there was no need, Mrs... Molly" you said, correcting yourself along the away.

"Nonsense" she returned, finally getting what she looked for from the bag. "Fred and George, here you go."

"Matching scarfs! Nice!" Fred commented, smiling to his brother. They wrapped the scarf around each other's necks.

"Now, we can look identical!" George added, making his mom roll her eyes.

"Here's yours, Harry" she gave Harry a black scarf, that had an 'H' in one of its ends. She turned herself at you, holding a golden-like scarf, much like the ones with the twins. "I had trouble with yours, dear. Ginny warned me you were coming at the last minute and..."

"Hey, no worries, Molly. You didn't even need to give me something!" you thanked her, interrupting her attempt of justification. She then let you get the scarf from her hands. You weren't wrong to think it was like the twins' one. It was one of the twins' one, Fred's actually because there was a big 'F' in one of its ends.

"I didn't realise I had already done one for Fred" she started, ducking her head, afraid of your reaction. "If you'd like, I can redo it until the end of the holiday, and, you know..."

"Molly, Molly" you interrupted, holding her arm, trying to calm her down. "It's ok. I like it this way."

"Damn right she does" Ginny muttered, and you kicked her under the table.

"Besides, I don't think Fred has a problem with it, do you, Freddie?" you asked, finally facing him. 

He was caught by surprise, swallowing hard before returning with a quick comment. "The 'F' looks good on you" and then he winked, making you blush.

Mrs Weasley seemed relieved of the way you handled things and smiled to you. "I'm glad you are here this year with us. I'll hope you'll come next years"

"Oh, she will," Ginny remarked again just so she could win another kick of yours.

"I have presents for you all as well. I mean, I couldn't come without presents" you said, getting up. "Just wait."

You left to Ginny's room, so you could get the presents you had bought at Hogsmeade for all of them. You even had caught presents for Bill and Charlie, because you didn't know they wouldn't be there.

"You didn't have to, dear," said Molly Weasley when you got back to downstairs. You nodded, "It's almost nothing, I mean, I got you all some candy from Honeydukes", you smiled showing your teeth, "It's barely a present."

You started passing the candy to everyone since they were all the same, it didn't matter to who you were giving.

"Well, thank you," Mr Weasley said, causing your cheeks to turn red. He was a very poilite but quiet man, quite different from the rest of the family.

"I've got ones to Bill and Charlie as well, 'cause I didn't know they wouldn't come. Can you give it to them, Molly?" you asked, politely.

"Sure," she said, running her hand to your back.

"What about our candy?" Fred and George asked together, which caused the table to laugh.

"Well, I knew there were things more important than candy for you two, so..." you got the last items inside the bag you had in your hands, "Bilton Blimes told me these were things you have been looking for ages but were never able to find."

The twins looked at you shocked, both their mouths wild open, which caused you to laugh. "I'd say after this morning you guys don't deserve it..."

"They don't" an angry Molly Weasley commented.

"...but I wouldn't use it anyway" you continued, giving them their precious little toys.

Percy was the only one at the table that was not laughing at Fred and George's faces. Even Molly gave in, giggling a little.

"Now, off of here, I need to clean up" she ordered, probably desperate to hide her smile from her kids.

Mr Weasley stayed with his wife, to help her with the dishes, which you thought was too cute of him. Percy was the first to leave the table, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny, they were playing with each other, trying to steal one another candy. You just rolled your eyes at them.

"Thank you, so, so much, y/N!" exclaimed Fred, walking in your direction, holding his little toy in his hands, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yeah, y/N, thanks! If my brother isn't keeping you, I'd gladly do it!" George said, laughing. Fred slapped his back, but the twin didn't even move. He left the kitchen faster, leaving you and Fred on the slow walk you two were doing.

You didn't want to be the first to talk, but you needed to say something. Fred seemed to be feeling the same, but he didn't open his mouth. When you were brave enough to say something, he started talking with you. "So I" you both started together.

You stared at each other, embarrassed. "You go first," he said at the same time as you. You looked at him, ashamed again, and then you both break into laughs. He touched you in your elbow, suggesting with his eyes to the stairs. You headed that way, sitting on the second step.

"I'm sorry I run away last night" you started saying, avoiding looking at his eyes. He sat next to you. He reached for your hands, leaving the present you had just gave him on the upper step. "I'm sorry I disappeared this morning."

You both stared at each other, taking in a moment to just stay in silence. Neither of you cared to say that it was ok because you knew that wasn't the problem. You weren't worried about the disappearance but worried about what it had meant. What the kiss meant.

"So..." you began but couldn't finish. You weren't brave enough to be the first to mention it and by the looks of it, neither was he.

"I... hm, I've got you something. For Christmas" he said, swallowing dry. "It's in my room."

You didn't know what he was expecting you to say.

"Come, I'll show you" he squeezed your hand, before getting up and helping you do the same.

He guided you through the stairs, without letting go of your hand. He stopped at the sight of a door — you supposed it was his — and opened it, slowly. "Sorry for the mess."

"No worries" you smiled because the room was actually cleaner than what you expected to see from the bedroom of the biggest pranksters of Hogwarts.

He had to let go of your hand to kneel before his bead, to get something that was underneath it.

"Here," he said, getting up. "Take it, it's yours."

You took the box from his hands, scared of what could be inside. 

"It's not a prank, come on" he smiled, noticing you were afraid to open it.

You undid the lace, taking the cover of the box. Inside, your wand looked like as if it was just new.

"We swapped it" he pointed out, while you took your wand of the box. It felt nice to have it in your hands once again. 

His wand, the one you've been carrying around all day was placed on your boot. You bowed to get it and returned it to the rightful owner. "Here you go," you said, trying to smile even though you were a little disappointed with his gift.

He giggled at you while getting his wand. "That's not your present, y/N. Look closer to the box."

After hs advise, you came upon noticing the box had a spell, probably the Undetectable Extension Charm. You reached further inside the box, trying to find whatever Fred could have hidden.

"It's a quaffle!" you exclaimed, getting the ball outside of the box. It looked new, its red appearance shining.

Fred giggled at your reaction.

"Why a quaffle?" you asked, confused with the quidditch ball chasers use to score. Yeah, you had learned a couple of things.

"Well, I saw how happy you get playing quidditch and I want you to keep on playing" he started, looking deep into you eyes "I like seeing you happy."

He shrugged like he had said something of the least importance. You stood on tiptoe so you could reach him and kissed him on the cheek. 

He swallowed, his cheeks turning redder than his hair. "You'll keep on playing?"

"Of course! If you keep on being my teacher" you suggested, satisfied with your attempt of sassiness.

"Oh, you are a keeper" he commented, making you chuckle because of the double meaning of the sentence. It made you even happier once you realised that he might have been using the word's double meaning from the very beginning.

"FRED WEASLEY, WHERE ARE YOU?" you listened to a scream, probably coming from the living room.

"MOM, I'LL BE DOWN IN A SECOND!" he shouted back, making you laugh hard.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!" his mom shouted back. Fred rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if she noticed that I'm not downstairs as well" you pointed out, holding the quidditch ball with only one hand.

"Ginny must have covered you up, which I see George wasn't able to do for me," Fred said, his tone showing discomfort.

"Then, let's go. What are you waiting for?" you said, reaching for his hand to take him downstairs. It was funny, you tough, coping his mom's words.

"For this" he answered, taking his free hand at your waist, pulling you closer to him. The encounter of bodies made you let go of the quaffle, that fell upon the floor without any noise.

Fred leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. This time, there was no hush. You both have been waiting to repeat that for so long, that when it finally happened it was like the world had stopped just to let you two kiss in peace.

He embraced you tighter and tighter, and although, you needed time out for breathing, you didn't let go of each other.

You didn't know how long had passed when you finally got away from each other.

"Merry Christmas" Fred wished you, his voice a bit rough from the long snogging session.

You smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Fred."

[welllpthisishappening]

Drew Stars Around My Scars

Hello, hey, hi there. It’s raining, I’ve already lost track of the number of times I’ve listened to Taylor Swift’s new album and haven’t written anything in weeks. Until now! Thanks, Taylor Swift. And @optomisticgirl​​​ who reblogged this post a few days ago from @initiala​​​ about how Killian holding Emma in 3x22 isn’t just that he’s trying to comfort her, but he’s trying to make sure she didn’t disappear. 

Which, like...ok, cool. Anyway, I have thought about this for far too long now and started slamming on keys when the kittens weren’t sitting on my laptop and here’s like 4.1K that may or may not make sense, but at least includes some scathing opinions of Back to the Future. Also, thanks to @shireness-says​​​ for always being like...yeah, I want to read that. 

-----

She sniffles. 

She can’t seem to stop. 

Tears stream down Emma’s face without much thought because thinking too much is a daunting obstacle that she can’t even begin to consider yet. Or ever. Definitely ever. Another sniffle, this one actually making her cough somehow, which is a bodily reaction she was not aware she was capable of. 

Until right now. 

When everything seems to be falling apart around her. 

God, she hates time travel. And magic. And evil queens. And parents who can’t recognize her. She supposes she should give them a pass. For a variety of reasons, least of all the magic that’s cloaking both her and Kill—no, that’s not right. Hook. Captain Hook. He’s Captain Hook and she’s still not a princess, but the dancing was almost nice and he hadn’t even slowed down before he was drawing his sword and the jacket spin was something even her muddled thoughts have been able to cling to, so—

He’d held onto her while her mother burned. Tightly. Almost too much. 

Emma nearly trips over a tree root. 

“Shit,” she breathes, pressing the pads of her fingers into damp cheeks. Her dress is too long. Maybe she’ll mention that to Rumplestilskin later. 

Once they get home. 

Back to Storybrooke. Those are not interchangeable words. None of this is interchangeable. 

Even the trees around Emma look different than the ones she only vaguely remembers from her last jaunt through the Enchanted Forest, taller and a little more imposing, like they’re also aware that she’s one good sniffle away from falling off the metaphorical edge. 

Directly into a chasm without magic or parents and she didn’t even get to talk to Mary—

“Nope,” Emma says entirely to herself. So, it seems insanity is looming just a bit closer than she realized. “Not here.”

Or ever. There’s that phrase again. Two words, technically. 

Two words probably don’t constitute a phrase. 

What does she know, she didn’t graduate college. Or high school, technically. 

“Literally,” Emma mumbles, and it’s almost impressive how that one word still manages to sound as loud as it does. As if it’s bouncing off the sides of those same tall and decidedly imposing trees. “Literally didn't graduate high school.”

Something snaps behind her. 

There are far too many twigs on this forest floor. 

Spinning on the balls of her feet, Emma’s hands fly up, only one of her wrists cracking in the process, and it’s difficult to make out the face moving towards her, but the set of his shoulders is exactly the same as always and that cannot possibly have any deeper meaning. 

“Swan?” “God, fuck what are you—” Emma is out of breath. That’s absurd. And a rather unfair commentary on her lungs ability to function. She’s had something of a day, after all. Running a hand over her face, she does her best to retain her higher brain functions, but that’s admittedly difficult when there’s moonlight gleaming from the point of Killian’s sword. 

Captain Hook. 

Captain. Hook. 

Maybe the state of her lungs is partially his fault. He really held on very tightly. 

“What are you doing out here?” Emma manages to get out, once she’s taken another pitiful breath. She hopes her lips don’t start to chap. There’s probably not an easy remedy for that in the goddamn Enchanted Forest. 

Hook gapes at her. 

She grits her teeth. And regrets the state of her knees. They keep wobbling under her, traitors to her emotional cause and the state of several body parts aside from her obviously failing lungs. Whatever’s happening in the general vicinity of her heart seems unstable. 

Erratic, even. 

“Making sure you’re alright,” Hook says like it’s obvious, and it almost is. Almost. What another piece of garbage word. “You’ve been—” Shaking his head once, the ends of his hair don’t move as much as normal, and Emma flinches when he sheaths his sword. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.” Emma is going to lie. She is. Has every intention of letting the word fine pass through her lips, but those lips open without any sound coming out at all and Hook’s eyebrows jump. 

“Thank you.” “Excuse me?” “Thank you,” Emma repeats, finally giving into the urge of her knees and, if nothing else, the length of this dress makes it easier to sit on one of these overly large tree roots. Hook’s eyebrows don’t move. “Should have, uh—should have mentioned that before, probably.” “Thanking me?” “What part of this is confusing for you?” “Quite a bit, in fact,” he admits, and he doesn’t sit, but he also doesn’t look away from her and Emma is pleasantly surprised to find she almost sort of likes it. Almost. Again. 

Letting out a breath that she wishes sounded more like a laugh than it does, Emma’s tongue darts out. “Shit, that..well, that sucks, doesn’t it?” His eyes widen. “That’s not a euphemism,” Emma adds. “Just out of place slang.” “You might have to be more specific, love.”

“That’s fair. I—ok, stuff sucking is...well, it just means that stuff is...not great. Like right now, you know...things are—” She shrugs. And tries to smile. It fails spectacularly. 

Emma sniffles again. 

“Not great?” Hook ventures, and he has to readjust his sword to sit next to her. 

“Less than ideal.”

“You’ve been gone for nearly half an hour. I was worried something had happened.” “Hence the sword.” “Never want to be too careful. And you’re—” “—At least capable of still punching people,” Emma argues, not sure why she’s doing that exactly, but it feels like a matter of pride at this point. She exhales loudly. “But, uh...it’s nice that you came out here. I’m sorry that you had to do that too.” They both hear the words for what they aren’t — vast and a little overwhelming, and time travel is so overrated. Emma can’t believe what a popular fictional trope it is. Snow White was never supposed to die. The ends of Hook’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t actually smile, and that’s actually nice and maybe that’s her biggest issue. 

Everything about him has been so goddamn nice. 

He was much better at dancing than she expected him to be. 

And he keeps following her. She doesn’t mind that. 

Might even—

No. Not now. Not yet. Or ever. Again. God. 

“It’s not a problem, love.”

Emma swallows. Nods. Tries not to fall over that ledge. “I just...needed some time to think, I guess. Is that dramatic?” “No. And suggesting it sucks does have a certain charm to it.” “And you know all about charming, don’t you?” His left eyebrow arches. Some things never change, she supposes. Emma focuses on that. And not how she’s fairly certain she can feel waves of heat rolling off him, even with the few inches between them. Possibly a foot. She’s not great at estimating measurements. 

Or much else, it seems. 

That’s a far too depressing thought, though. 

“I believe I’ll leave that particular moniker to others in the party,” Hook says softly, sitting down. “Would you like to talk about it?” “Which part?” “Dealer’s choice.” “That one crossed realms, huh?”

“Some sayings know no bounds,” Hook smirks, and whatever sound Emma makes at that is even closer to a laugh than the last one. She takes that as a positive. “None of this is your fault.” “Practice that a few more times and it might sound more legitimate.” “Swan, that’s—” “—No, no, no,” Emma objects, not standing up, but she shakes her head quickly enough that strands of hair slap at either one of her cheeks. A few of them stick there. Probably because of the tears she can’t seem to stop. “All of this is my fault. I—I should have waited for help with the portal and everything I’ve done here has only made it worse and—” Another sigh, dragging her hand over her cheek. “—Fuck Marty McFly. And Doc Brown. It was so weird that they were friends, why didn’t anyone ever explain that?” “Did they not?” “No, not once. We were just supposed to accept that Marty met some senior citizen inventor guy who was more than willing to steal dangerous chemicals—” “—And he wasn’t a wizard?” “No, he wasn’t a wizard. No magic in the real world.” Or me, Emma thinks bitterly, but that’s not going to help the situation anymore than her current rambling, and she can’t seem to stop rambling. “But Marty and Doc hung out all the time. And Jennifer didn’t even think it was weird.” “Who is Jennifer, exactly?” “Marty’s girlfriend, I guess, but it always seemed like they were just starting to date at the beginning of the movie and then they got married. Just like that. You think they went to the same college or something? Like once Marty left—shit I can’t remember the name of the town.” Hook hums, a sound Emma can’t actually cling to any more than she can hold the one positive thing that has happened to her in the last twenty-four hours in her hands. It is not lost on her that both of them have to do with the man sitting next to her. 

Or how quickly his fingers keep fluttering over the hilt of his sword. 

“How far do you think we are from Aurora and Philip’s...land?” Emma asks. “Is that the right way to say that? Did they have a land?” “I believe the word you’re looking for is kingdom.” “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Should have known that.” “That’s not your fault either.” “You’re really harping.” “Playing a symphony, it seems.” She laughs. She does. It’s not that loud, and there’s a distinctly watery edge to it, the muscles in Emma’s face aching when she manages to smile, but she’s having a difficult time coming to terms with the dexterity of Killian’s eyebrows and her hand moves before she thinks about it. 

The metal is cool under her skin, a smooth surface that she can drag her thumb across. Which is exactly what she does, an attempt to ground herself and remind her that she’s still here when she isn’t entirely positive she’s supposed to be. 

Hook doesn’t move. Might not breathe, if the state state of his shoulders is any indication and Emma hadn’t realized she was in possession of so many opinions regarding Captain Hook’s shoulders. Or her ability to recognize them. 

No matter what, it seems. 

“While it may appear that I know everything—” “—Ok, I never said that.” Hook’s smirk grows more pronounced. “I was in Neverland for quite some time, and the boundaries of some of the Enchanted Forest kingdoms changed in the last hundred or so years. But,” he adds when Emma opens her mouth again, “we’re more than a stone’s throw from the land Aurora should be ruling. At least several days' travel.” “God, that’s confusing. And did all these kingdoms have separate laws and everything? Who came up with that? Seems like a garbage way to rule.” “I believe you’d have to file a complaint with several different monarchies for that, love.”

Emma scoffs. “It’s quieter here than it was in Neverland, though.” “Most places are.” “Colder too. I hate the cold. I’m always—can’t ever seem to get warm and my toes are always freezing, it’s...I’m a notorious blanket thief.” “Pirate of sorts, huh?” He grins as he says it and part of Emma wants to scream. Stand up and run, as fast as her feet and far-too-long hem allow. But that part is also smaller than usual, and she’s all too aware of the state her knees are in. “Something like that,” Emma agrees. “When I was a kid I used to live in this place. Snowed for months at a time and I—I hated it. Wanted to be anywhere else. Kept trying to find somewhere that was warm, sunny. Like that would chase away the shadows.” Hook is disarmingly quiet. 

And Emma can’t shut up. 

“But then I got some place where it never snows and it wasn’t what I thought it’d be. Dry heat, you know?” He shakes his head. That’s fair. Pirates with several-hundred years of experience under their belts should not be expected to understand meteorological cliches. 

“Anyway,” Emma mumbles, “it wasn’t what I expected or thought was supposed to happen and—” She scrunches her nose. Hook waits. Presumably for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn’t come and she finds it difficult to breathe again when he starts talking.

“Sunlight always seemed better on the sea. Would reflect off the surf. Could see the entire horizon if you wanted to.” “And did you?” Hook nods. “As often as I could. Even when I was lad. My father used to bring my brother and I—” This might be their best and least organized conversation. Gritting his teeth, his shoulders shift when he inhales sharply. “These stars are different from Neverland’s.” “Really? Weird.” “Mmhm, made navigating something of a challenge.”

“But you’re here now, right?” “Presently, you mean?” Another head shake. More moving hair and unmoving fingers. Emma’s knuckles are white around the hook, holding it like a lifeline and she might have to spend the rest of her life thanking him for this. 

It’s not as daunting a prospect as it should be. 

“I mean past you is here,” Emma says, “in the Enchanted Forest. Doing pirate type things and offering Mary—” Her tongue gets in the way. As disgusting a thought as that is, Emma knows it’s better than thinking about what is actually happening, feeling as if her throat is collapsing in on itself while her heart does its best to beat its way out of her chest. “Shit.” Killian shuffles closer, not stopping until his knee bumps hers. “That happened from time to time. Leaving Neverland, doing jobs for—” “—Pan?” “Sometimes. He couldn't leave the island, you see. Not without losing the magic as well. Jolly’s crew was his only option. Although we always managed to stay here longer than he wanted us to.” “Well, pirates hate rules, don’t they?” “I believe that’s in the bylaws, aye.” She’s got absolutely no idea what sound that one is. Shaky and a little wobbly and some dark, half-forgotten part of Emma’s brain believes it’s drifting close to giggle territory. That can’t be right. She can’t giggle while she’s still crying. 

The bylaws of the Universe probably frown on that. 

“Is that how you wound up with Cora, then? Stuck around longer and got a good deal?” Nothing. 

No answer. No jokes. Certainly nothing even remotely resembling a giggle. 

Just the muscle in Hook’s temple, jumping rhythmically and consistently and Emma really does try to stay patient. Her sniffling makes that difficult. 

“Something like that,” Killian repeats evasively, staring straight ahead like he can see through the trees. Maybe he can. What does Emma know. Some pirates probably have to have good eyesight. Make up for the eye patches and whatnot. 

She nods. No one asked a question. “Ok.” “Ok?” “Ok,” Emma echoes, “you’re a real shit liar and I’m real great at telling when you’re lying, but—” “—Me specifically?” Yes. The answer is yes, but she doesn’t give voice to that either and maybe she should be writing all these things down. The things she’s not saying. 

Should say. 

Emma can’t believe she time traveled and didn’t even get to talk to her mother. 

And that’s the first time she’s really allowed herself to think of Snow White as her mother. 

“Super power,” Emma continues, waving her free hand towards her temple. Her other one is still clinging to his hook. “But that’s fine. You didn’t pry, so I won’t pry, I just—” Collapsing throats, she imagines, are supposed to hurt more than this does. This doesn’t hurt, per se, just feels passably uncomfortable, like there’s a wad of cotton in her mouth, making it difficult to say anything and Emma is so bad at saying anything, but Killian is staring at her and—

Killian. 

She lets herself call him Killian. In her head, at least .

“I can’t come up with anything else to say except thank you,” Emma whispers. 

“You don’t have to.” “Still.” “You’re welcome,” Killian says, and maybe words carry more weight in the past. By default. 

“Can I ask you something, though?” He tenses. Noticeably. It’s another round of fair and understandable, Emma’s teeth finding her lower lip until she tastes blood. Another reminder that she’s still here. With her fingers wrapped around Captain Hook’s—

No, that’s not right. Captain Hook did not follow her into a time vortex. Or ask her to dance. Or wear the fuck out of that jacket. Although that last one could use a bit more work, at least when it comes to sentence structure. 

The point still stands. 

Captain Hook didn’t do any of that. Killian Jones did. 

And he—

“When we were watching everything in the castle and Regina was you know…” Killian lips go thin. Emma might be staring at his lips. Past him had been a very good kisser as well. Maybe she’ll mention that at some point. After this. “Well, I just,” she stammers, “I was terrified, for my mom and my dad and even Ruby—God, is that her name here?” “Introduced herself as Red when Snow White sent her.” “Weird.” “Perhaps the best word for the entire situation.” “Or shitty.” “Aye that too,” he smiles, which is not weird. At least not as weird as it should be. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.” “Yeah, me neither,” Emma breathes, not exactly the explicit truth, but at least several steps without moving. “I—you have very strong arms.” “A compliment?” “An observation.” Killian chuckles, and this hair really is unfortunate. Normally, that one bit that Emma has come to regard as her own personal torture device would artfully fall across his forehead, a metaphorical arrow towards eyes that always seem to get brighter when they’re looking at her.

As they often are. 

But while the hair is different, the distracting tendencies of his tongue are the same. The tip of it finds the corner of his mouth, a soft push on the inside of his cheek, and Emma’s not keeping a list — at least not acknowledging her want of a list — but the tongue thing is definitely one of Killian’s most telling tells. 

Seriously, her sentence structure sucks. 

“Although,” Emma adds, “it wasn’t that bad.” HIs tongue goes back in his mouth. She’s got to stop thinking about his tongue.

“No?” “No,” she says. “It was...nice.” So, off the top of her head, she needs to fix — sentences, her grasp of the English language, her tendency to repeat herself, and finding better adjectives for emotionally charged moments. 

Possibly. 

Emma still hasn’t called him Killian to his face, after all. 

“What did you think was going to happen?” No tongue, but an obviously tight jaw makes Emma’s stomach jump into her still-collapsed throat. “Like I said, love. I wasn’t sure. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” The lie feels like it reaches out, smacks her across the face and then backhands her for good measure. It leaves Emma’s cheeks tingling and something tugs at the base of her spine. Not magic, because she still doesn’t have magic, but maybe magic adjacent, like a memory or hints of a dream that keep lingering at the edges of everything, and she promised. 

She doesn’t push. She doesn’t prod. 

She doesn’t pry. 

And Killian has to move his sword again when he gets back to his feet. “We’ve got a fire going, if you’d like to warm up.” “Yeah, ok. Thanks.” Emma doesn’t let go of the hook, keeps her fingers curled around it as they move back through the trees and neither one of them stumble, a very small, but much needed victory because—

Well, everything kind of continues to suck. 

At least for a little while. 

Snow White isn’t dead, but she’s a bug, and then she’s not a bug and Emma has no idea where Ruby goes. She’s too busy worried about this nameless woman and wielding a branch gets her another laugh and a smile she’s going to think about for at least seventy-two hours straight. Then there are trolls, and tears of the less-pained variety. Rumplestilskin continues to be any forest’s biggest asshole, and there’s magic and another round of crying and—

Emma runs. 

Sprinting across Storybrooke, she ignores the ringing phone in her pocket, determined to hug her parents and hold her kid with her own display of impressive upper body strength. 

And it gets better, less suck-like, at least. Food and smiles and the way her mother’s hand feels when it rests on top of Emma’s. 

Until she’s sitting — tucked into the corner of a booth with her own face staring at her from the pages of Henry’s storybook and Emma can’t quite recognize the person there. The happiness on her face feels like...well, a story. A good one, but something that she can’t believe was hers or is hers or could be hers and she’s got to add tenses to that list she only kind of remembers. 

Glancing around, the muscles in her neck object to the stress she’s putting them under, because time travel is awful and exhaustion is starting to creep its way up her spine. 

“Looking for someone?” her mother asks, and Emma’s lips pop. 

That’s it. 

She understands. Fucking goddamn finally. 

Emma might nod. Or shake her head. It doesn’t really matter. 

There are no words. No explanations. Just clamoring back to her feet, the bottoms of her boots sticking to the linoleum near the door because one of the dwarves definitely spilled punch at some point and—

His head snaps up as soon as the door closes behind her. 

“So, do you think Rumplestilskin is right?” Emma asks, dropping into one of the wrought-iron chairs at the table Killian has commandeered. Pirate term. “I’m in the book now. He said everything, besides our little adventure, would go back to normal. Do you think that it is?”

“He’s right. Otherwise I’d remember that damned bar wench I kissed.” She smiles. Wide and honest and easier than anything has ever been. And Killian doesn’t flinch when she teases him, like that’s something Emma is allowed to do, but she figures once she uses his name and once they start making out like teenagers it’s fine, and this is her favorite kiss. 

By far. 

No sounds, no rum, nothing except the feel of his fingers in her hair and her knees bumping against his and she tries to claw her way into his space, a burst of colors behind her closed eyes that she knows is magic and him and them, a collective unit that—

“You came out here,” Killian murmurs, the words barely making their way through the haze of Emma’s post-makeout brain. 

She bumps her nose against his. “Turnabout and all that. I...I didn’t want you to be by yourself. And I had a thought.” “Which was?” “Did you think I was going to disappear? When Regina tried to kill my mom. I—you said you didn’t know what would happen, but that wasn’t—” “—Super power, huh?” “Not cool to interrupt when I’m theorizing.” “Well, you don’t like being cool, do you, Swan?” Her smile is going to get stuck on her face. That’s...nice. “Was that what it was?” “The thought had crossed my mind, aye.” “Smart guy.” “High praise.” “I’m an official princess now. In the book and everything, so favors from me hold a certain weight, don’t you think?” He smirks. She tries to memorize it. Every shift of his mouth, the spark in his eye and slight scrunch of his nose, what might be a few freckles there or a trick of the dim lights above them. 

Emma’s skin feels like it’s vibrating. 

“Thank you.” “You don’t have to keep saying that, Swan.” “Yeah, I know, but—I didn’t think about disappearing, but I did think about wanting something to hold onto and that’s...thank you.”

It’s not enough. Not really, but even the concept of holding her tight enough to ensure that she didn’t disappear in some fairy tale realm is a lot for Emma to wrap her mind around, so she’s going to give herself a pass on this one. 

And kiss him instead. Kissing Killian is quickly climbing to the top of a brand-new list of Emma’s favorite things. In every known realm. His tongue swipes her lips and she opens her mouth at the same time her eyes fall shut again, a tilt of her head and bump of their chins, and it’s not easy to deal with all of their assorted limbs at this angle, but that just ensures that this is a bit slower and softer and something that is, quite obviously, the start. 

Because she came after him this time. 

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

♫ Surfing on a soundwave, Swinging through the stars, Take a left at your intestine, Take your second right past mars!

On the Magic School smelly space bus! ♫

SPOILERS for Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #2!

This is a comic where, the longer I sit with a particular issue, the more I’m like, ‘yeah. Yeah. YEAH.’

It’s dense in a way that invites the reader to go through it multiple times, and rewards additional readthroughs.

Also, it helps that the art is FREAKING AMAZING.

Seriously. Evely and Lopes should draw and color everything, forever, always.

(I will honestly be shocked if they don’t get an Eisner nom for this book.)

Anyways, all of this to say: Another issue that I enjoyed. It has one of the most genuinely sweet Supergirl moments I’ve seen in the comics in a good long while.

So, if you’re looking for a quick thumbs up/thumbs down rating, thumbs up!

If you’d like some SPECIFICS, though...

THE STORY

King is an evil genius because we don’t pick up where we left off--rather, we start in the midst of the Space Bus journey.

There is technically a Big Action Scene, but I was honestly surprised by how...casually? the story progressed.

Essentially: Kara and Ruthye are forced to travel by bus because 1.) Krem stole Kara’s rocket and 2.) this corner of the universe doesn’t have the right stars, so Kara’s still recovering from being under a red sun for an extended period of time.

The bus makes occasional stops; they encounter a space dragon; Kara takes some Red Kryptonite and saves the day; they eventually arrive on a planet with a yellow sun. 

And again, all of this occurs with a kind of...breezy ease that I was not expecting at all.

I assumed that the space dragon fight would make up the final moments of the issue, after having built up the problem to a point where Kara needed to intervene.

But, noooope. The space dragon happens somewhere in the middle, which helps sell the central idea that this is simply Kara’s life. She’s been there, done that. She’s a badass who takes it all in stride.

But! Important to note! Ruthye still marvels at the sight of Kara taking out the space dragon, as well she should, because:

OH MY GOD. THE aRT.

There’s only so many times I can say, ‘it’s phenomenal, it’s gorgeous, it’s stunning’ before sounding like a broken record.

But it is. It truly is. This is the prettiest monthly book on the stands right now.

(Realizing I’ve been spelling Ruthye wrong this entire time, maybe? IDK. Apologies if I have.)

It’s in the final moments of the book that we learn what transpired after Krem shot Kara and Krypto and fled: Kara managed to get Krypto and Ruthye to a healer, and then passed out for a week. 

Ruthye and Kara recovered, buuuuut...

Krypto is still very near death because the arrow was poisoned.

The healer can’t treat him until he has a sample of the poison.

Which Krem has.

(See where this is going?)

So! Kara regains her powers! Ruthye has a super on her side! KRYPTO’S LIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE!

Gimme. Issue. 3. STAT.

THE CHARACTERS

Very much enjoyed Ruthye in this issue!

There’s a really tricky balancing act you gotta pull off when writing child characters; you don’t want to just write them as tiny adults, but you also don’t want to be obnoxious or cloying in trying to write ‘true-to-age.’

King gives himself a bit of a cheat, by setting her up as a rock farmer from a...what would you call it. An old-fashioned planet? And thus the kind of character who had to ‘grow up fast’ and behaves more maturely than your typical pre-teen might.

BUT! IMPORTANTLY! This is tempered by placing Ruthye in situations where her (understandable) ignorance is challenged/put to the test. Like, yes, she is mature, and well-spoken, and utterly tenacious, but she’s also out of her depth, and still in need of help and guidance.

(Which is how we get to The Best Scene which I’ll get to in just a sec.)

TL;DR - this issue has really sold me on Ruthye as our POV character and I am officially Invested in the relationship between her and Kara.

Speaking of...

It’s KARA-CTERIZATION TIME!

So, okay. There’s some ‘eh’ stuff in this one, but, BUT!

We got the goods again.

And by ‘goods’ I mean this:

Whatever other nitpicks I have (and I do! Have one! Which I’ll get to!) THIS. This right here! This is Supergirl. This is Kara.

And what a beautiful line to introduce this moment:

“And it began--as most things begin when you’re dealing with Supergirl--with a moment of kindness.”

It’s the same gentle concern we saw in the previous issue, where Kara knelt down to address Ruthye eye-to-eye. 

Here, Kara’s facial expression, and the way she takes Ruthye’s hands and shows her what to do...

It’s just. SO SWEET.

Ahhhhh it’s so good. :D

So good! In fact! That the above scene offsets my one complaint, which is that Kara came off as harsh, IMO, when addressing the bus passengers, looking for Red K. 

Other good stuff from this particular portion of the book: we get Kryptonese (maybe? I think?) And a mention of Kara’s mother being strict about certain things, which is in keeping with the 2000s series version of Alura.

Ruthye also asks if Kara ever tried to avenge the death of her family/culture and she says no; Ruthye says that she heard a lifetime of regret in Kara’s response, which I suppose could be read one of two ways:

1.) That she regrets her choice not to avenge them, or 2.) that she regrets not having the option to avenge them, as there was no one person to punch, no single action that could rectify the destruction of the entire planet.

I personally prefer the second reading.

Which I suppose contradicts the recent-ish “Killers of Krypton” arc, but who knows what is and isn’t canon anymore, honestly. XD

As for the rest of the issue! I found myself thinking of a Grant Morrison interview, actually.

Morrison apparently met a Superman cosplayer at a con and that’s when the character clicked for them: “[The superman cosplayer] was so in the character, but what really got me was the way he was sitting. It was this absolutely relaxed pose with one knee up and the arm bent over, and that’s what broke Superman for me. Suddenly I realized that Superman wouldn’t be a poser, he wouldn’t be a Muscle Beach steroid guy; he’d actually be completely relaxed because nothing could hurt him. He could be so open and friendly to everyone because no one can punch him or hurt him. He can’t get a cold, or be damaged by anything you’re carrying or wearing. For me that was the power of that, whether you want to frame it as magical or not, it actually informed the stories I wanted to write. I felt I understood him in a way I hadn’t until that moment.”

That’s always stuck with me, the idea that Clark would be the most at-ease, chill guy you'd ever talk to.

And THAT, I think, is what we’re seeing here with Kara. That at-ease-ness.

But in a way that is distinct from Clark! In the above quote, it’s clear that Morrison thinks it’s Clark’s powers that are the reason he can be so relaxed and at ease.

But Kara is de-powered here. So why is she so chill?

Because Kara is an alien.

Kara’s in her element, here. She’s used to space travel, she knows the ins-and-outs, she’s not shocked by any of the weird stuff they encounter on their journey. 

Love it. LOVE. IT.

I am SO GLAD that King decided to go with Kara being the wizened mentor, as opposed to the naïve kid learning to be tough. It’s a much more interesting angle, IMO.

Also NO MENTION OF RIVALRY BETWEEN KARA AND CLARK. WOO. LET’S KEEP THIS ROLLIN’.

Alright, last, but certainly not least:

THE GOOD BOY! KRYPTO!

When I tell you I stress-read this entire comic first thing in the morning...XD

And I am STILL stressed. And a little sad that Krypto doesn’t get to go on another space adventure but! This is MIGHTY PREFERABLE to what I *thought* was going to happen, which is that Krypto would die from his injuries, and Kara would likewise be out for revenge. 

Fortunately, that is not the case! 

So like, the stakes?!?! Suddenly sky high. Find that dirtbag Krem and GET THAT POISON BACK TO THE HEALER!!

ART and MISC. STUFF THAT I LOVE

I generally don’t like to post entire pages of a comic, or panels without context, but the...reach? of this blog is extremely limited so. I think we’ll be okay. XD

So, alright! Some moments that I particularly enjoyed!

One of the panels that Mat Lopes shared early on! 

I want this lettered version on a mug.

(Also she looks very ’Grace Kelly-ish’ here.)

Love Kara’s facial expression and her line about space travel being more fun when you can fly.

From the same portion of the book--such a neat detail that Kara keeps her cash in her sleeve!

Another set of panels that I think Tom King shared a few months back.

Love Kara’s little smirk, and the, “I’m wearing a big yellow S on my chest, and a very fashionable red skirt.”

It IS fashionable. WE SUPPORT THE SKIRT, IN THIS HOUSE.

Also the slrrrrrrp. XD

It’s good.

Okay, 1.) VERY COOL SCI-FI DESIGN and 2.) that line is great. “Can you feel it, Ruthye? We’re getting closer. The stars are changing.”

Mmmm, them good cosmic Kara vibes.

Kara’s attitude about the Red K here is fun, like, ‘WELP, sometimes you turn into a monster, sometimes you don’t!’ but again, the line is what gets me.

“Did my hair move?”

“I do not believe so.”

XD

Honestly? I could post the whole comic here. Evely’s vision of ‘public transit, but space’ is just so immediately...not ‘real’, necessarily, because there’s such a fantastical element to it all, but it is fully realized. I think I used the phrase ‘lived-in’ and that’s it--this world feels like it has always existed; every grimy nook and cranny, every rando space bus traveler.

And Mat Lopes’ colors!

There are like, five distinct color palettes at work in this issue, and Lopes handles them all masterfully.

I think my favorite is the...I’ll call it ‘ethereal space aquarium’ lighting in the bus as they view the space dragon.

The glow and the shadows and the blues and pinks...

GGGGGGGGAAAHHHHHHHHHH so goooooooood

So, yeah. :D

I am very much enjoying this weird, wild ride with small, precocious Ruthye and wizened, crusty Kara. XD There’s some stuff that I don’t *love* but my goodness, it could be a lot worse!

Let us end on the beautiful title page:

[starhairspinel]

So, rodents, generally pretty cute, right? Mice, squirrels, hedgehogs, I like 'em, but rats on the other hand, those evil disease ridden trash hoppers can go jump off a cliff for all I care. Now I know what you're thinking "But Spinel, aren't mice and rats basically the same thing?" and to that I say "You're wrong, you idiot!", why? Well it's kinda interesting, rats and mice have alot differences like mice are smaller with relatively bigger ears and longer tails and they also poop twice as frequently as rats- but that's beside the point.

You know what, let me just- lemme tell you about the worst mission I ever had, it involved rats, and spoiler alert it's awful and I hated it.

So like, it's a perfectly normal day in the 80s, yeah? Birds chirping, I'm listening to the hottest new singles, brushing my plastic doll's hair, that kinda stuff, everything was perfectly good, great even! And then Rose waltzed in like "Hey Spinel, we got a mission for you in Empire city!" You know Empire City, right? Whatever happens in Empire City never sleeps? Anyway- I, being blissfully unaware of what this mission would entail, was like "Oh yeah totally! What's it about?", I was expecting something like a- like a chase around the city, get to do some cool spy stuff around the city, go to the mall in cool sunglasses and do parkour on buildings. Then Rose said "Oh you're going with Amethyst on this one and Garnet said there's this corrupted gem in the sewer system of the city!" and already I was like "Ew...?" because the sewers was not what I was expecting to go into while on a mission in Empire-Freaking-City, but I GUESS it would've been cool to meet some humanoid turtles who fight crime and eat pizza, sadly that didn't happen because it would've been better than what DID happen.

Anyway I went on the mission with Amethyst, she shapeshifted into an owl and I turned into a mouse, we flew over the city which admittedly was pretty awesome to see especially at night, nothing really did sleep there as the phrase would suggest, sure, great. We went into a local park that was closed because, you know, it was nighttime, and Amethyst was like "Nah dude I ain't going in there." and I was like "????? What????" and that's where things went downhill from there.

UGGGGGHHHHH okay, so I went into the sewer, as a mouse, Amethyst held onto my tail so I wouldn't get lost in there, take a guess how well that felt, and I had a rat encounter. Y'know, rats are much more terrifying when you've shapeshifted into a mouse but these rats were... Slightly more evil, just- just slightly more evil than usual. The place reaked, I thought that was just the smell of a regular sewer since I haven't been to a proper one before but nah, it was worse, so much worse. Remembering it now the rats seemed a little... Starved, like they haven't eaten any proper food in a while, I mean, they don't eat proper food in general because they're trash demons but what I mean is, they haven't eaten enough. Alot of them were staring at me before I heard one of them squeak to the others, though it clearly wasn't a regular rat squeak, imagine if a rat was chocking on a salt shaker lid but isn't gagging or doing anything to get it out and it's perfectly fine with it, that's what it sounded like. The other rats ran over to that rat and I followed them in hopes that maybe they can lead me to the corrupted gem I was supposed to get, like maybe the gem became some kind of rat king and I had to have this one on one cage fight because they thought I was a threat to their throne or I needed to prove myself or something but... All it lead me to was some moss, like, just moss on the wall of the catacombs, easy to say I was confused and disappointed. Then the rats started eating the moss, which was weird, I didn't know rats even ate anything like moss, I thought maybe I should join in and disguise myself among them and I was gonna take a bite before I noticed something, this wasn't anything like regular moss.

I prodded at the thing and it was just all icky and gross, definitely not moss, and it made me think, maybe this stuff is from the corrupted gem we- I mean, I was supposed to capture since Amethyst was apparently too lazy to come with me, I noticed how when the rats ate it, it would leave a light before regrowing almost instantly. I clawed at the not moss and I found a gemstone in it, bingo, I take out the gem and the would wall of moss poofed, the rats paused and looked at me, dead silence as I held the gem in my little mouse paws, and thEN THEY HAD THE GULL TO CHASE AFTER AND MURDER ME.

I BARELY got out of there with my life intact and Amethyst and I flew the heck out of there when the rats stormed out of the sewer with the sound of raging rubber ducks getting their revenge for letting them get lost in the dusty old shelves for too long. Needless to say, was traumatized I washed myself on the beach for a whole week just so I can feel clean.

I'm still mad at Rose and Amethyst for it.

[procrastinationonvacation]

Whiskey/wine drinking buddies with Sauron is the best image I could have of Thuringwethil! Could I now beg some opinions on Finrod, just generally and his relationships with all his various friends?

- Captain Anon

Hi! hope you’re doing well and thanks so much for the asks!!!!

Finrod is the Kindest most amazing child and I love him very much. The following part is about him being Happy. (We are ignoring sad things until the End, or possibly for the void to consume.)

Captain, ‘all his various friends’ is a very dangerous phrase, he has more friends than Maedhros has names because to him everyone/thing is friend shaped. (continues under cut)

We’ve discussed that lovely finwean invincibility and “the only thing that can stop me is god, and even then I only listen to them when they agree with me.” (though I’d revise to add that Indis may be an occasional exception because she’s helped him commit so many Crimes) I believe Finrod’s comes out in the sheer confidence that people will like him and be on his side. I think in the beginning he was also a very sunny and optimistic person (erodes over time but shh we aren’t talking about the sad)

I also think his moral compass is linked on personal loyalties as opposed to a cause. Obvs this shows up when he’s helping Beren but also when he goes to middle earth (I think he goes bc friends, not belief in Feanor but I might be wrong).

-

ok specific friends:

Listen idk with whom, but he was definitely buddy buddies with some of the dwarves of the Blue Mountains bc there’s no way he spent however long making a custom cave fortress and also exchanging gems + fancy necklaces and Didn’t.

It’s really funny to me that he’s also one of the first points of contact for men as well. Like Finrod really seems to be going around pioneering the diplomatic relationships among the races.

I believe he would also be close with Maedhros and with Fingon because it says that the three of them often met to take council or whatever, and honestly? all three seem like very social and agreeable people and I can’t imagine them not getting along after having to sit in court, or wherever eldest sons sit during official things, and *not* becoming friends.

Andreth would also be close friends with our boy, I think Aegnor probably showed up at Finrod’s house like “hey wtf do I do with this” and then separately after some meeting or something, Andreth showed up like “hey wtf do I do with this” and yeah sure, they had some nice philosophical discussions as per recorded history but I am Convinced they were a set of friends who just made up really weird ideas for fun. (ex: finding out what branch of government you’d be elected to in order to redraw the Buffalo city country lines in the shape of a buffalo)

Curufin I’ve already talked about, but again I think they were fairly close because they’d end up on the same sorts of trips, and I think Finrod’s generally disarming demeanor would cause Curufin to be a little less… uh… snappy, because Finrod’s not really the type for hidden agendas, being more devoted to the ppl he cares about than to any particular mission.

-

Y’all I Cannot express how upset the post Dagor Bragollach field makes me. He’s lost his brothers, he’s got a nephew who’s just lost their parents, Celegorm and Curufin have shown up, his city is in considerable danger for the first time, his brother’s human gf has also presumably died in it, like all together not a fun year. Then we kill his uncle, then we kill his new human bestie Barahir, then freaking Beren shows up with the ring he’d given Barahir trying to get the Stupid gems his brothers just got killed over, and THEN his own COUSINS turn his city against him. Like JESUS what a decade.

oh he also gets captured and killed my sauron but hey at this point…

Anyways, I think the reason he isn’t harsher to Celegorm and Curufin is because he’s just lost a lot of people who were really close to him, and that Belief that good things will happen for good people is really fading away. And I think he has to have wondered if the Cs were right, if his ‘heart on the sleeve’ leadership was what they needed or if it was strong military with Compromises that would get them through. (this isn’t phrased well, but I think you know what I mean)

Also there’s something about him and Fingolfin that like…. going off to challenge a god… one in despair for the people he’s lost and the other in loyalty for the few he has left… 

both being honored martyrs who's graves remain untouched by evil, but in the end made the irresponsible decision to leave their kingdoms?

-

unrelated but I think we should appreciate every family has had their turn fighting a god: Finwe himself, Fingolfin for his house, Finrod for the Arafinweans, Celebrimbor for the feanorians

-

Anyways, hope that’s what you were looking for!! Thanks so much for the ask, ily!

[redhexagon7]

More Research Excerpts

This time it's Der Alptraum in Beziehung zu gewissen Formen mittelalterlichen Aberglaubens. (English: The Nightmare in Relation to Certain Forms of Medieval Superstition).

You can find the PDF here via Project Gutenberg, but it's in German.

For context though: this appeared in 1902 in a magazine published by Sigmund Freud. That fact is very much apparent throughout.

Introduction

"My focus is not on the historical side but the deepest psychological meaning" phrases that clue you in that there's a lot of nonsense coming

Nowadays the word "Weib" really just reads as "woman (derogatory)"

Dream and Belief

"the breath soul and the shadow soul" I'm sorry what. What! Shadow soul?????

"Freud's discovery of psychoanalysis" I don't know that I'd call it a discovery rather than "wholesale invention" or maybe "ass-pull" but sure

You can at times REALLY tell this is influenced by Freud. Example: "The more people have a certain type of dream the more likely it is that its' subliminal content is of a sexual nature" good (?) news for all the people who dream about their teeth falling out

Something something dreaming of your dead mother or father something something oedipus complex repressed in childhood

You can really tell this was written in the early 20th century. Take me back to the 18th/19th century weirdness please

"In a court in 1516 the jury of Trojes admonished the caterpillars who had devastated some distracts on punishment of curse and excommunication to leave within a certain number of days" I have SO MANY questions

The source for the above is "Cesaresco. Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs, P. 183" which I now have to read

Nightmares

"It is generally known that nightmares have a greater influence on the fantasy of waking life than any other dream" my dude you JUST went on for a whole chapter abt sex dreams so like are you sure

"I have added that the repression of female masochistic sexual urges is more suited to the creation of the typical nightmare than that of the male one, a view that Adler agrees with" I just wanna read abt weird hairy creatures sitting on people's chests, not this nonsense

Ok HERE'S something interesting. Dude's talking about how nightmares express deeply repressed wishes like yes. This I can vibe with

"Digestive problems do not explain the appearance of beautiful women from keyholes" sure but if that were a thing I'd sure as hell take the digestive problems

Incubus and Incubation

"In the middle ages the belief was generally that there were evil spirits whose sole function was to have [...] intercourse with sleeping people" HE JUST SAYS THIS. WITHOUT A SOURCE

"A favorite form that incubi took was that of clergy. Hieronmyus reports the story of a young lady who called for help against an incubus which her friends found under their beds in the form of the bishop Sylvanus. The reputation of the bishop would have suffered if he had been unable to convince them that the incubus had taken his form"

People at the time reacted by saying "Oh an excellent example for the wizardry of Sylvanus" so I don't think this bishop was believed

Anyway I WISH that had been an incubus but it really sounds like it was just a creepy old dude

Sir why do you keep randomly throwing untranslated French quotes in this German text

Oh hey another mention of people who were supposedly children of incubi. This time it's Alexander the Great, Caesar, Martin Luther, Plato, all of the Huns and everyone who lived on Cyprus

You're right, it would be unnecessary to linger on how snakes are phallic symbols thank you for not doing that

"The belief that the soul leaves the sleeper in the form of a snake which escapes through the mouth" UM HOLD ON

I checked the source and yeah, that sure is a thing

This one's from Thorpe. Northern Mythology, 1851, Vol I. P. 289f https://archive.org/details/northernmytholog01thoruoft/page/n309/mode/2up

The Vampire

"The wish for reunion, which has its origin in the living person, is here partially projected on the dead" FINALLY some good content

"Widows can get pregnant by their vampiric husbands visiting" uhuh sure

"After the transformation into a vampire is complete it can be discovered by finding the unburied body with red cheeks, tightskin, full blood vessels, warm blood, grown hair and nails and open left eye"

May have found another source on alps here. Features slut-shaming of sphinxes as far as I can tell

"The Wallachian myth wherein dead redheaded men appear in the form of frogs, bugs etc. and drink the blood of pretty girls"

So depending on which church you were a part of before committing heresy you'd either become a werewolf (roman-catholic) or a vampire (greek)

"Like the vampire the Alp can be the soul of a dead person and suck the blood of sleeping people" whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhy do I only read this now

The Werwolf

Apollo's apparently associated with wolves, which I did not know

Oh yeah I forgot about the part of werewolf lore that's like "Yeah they turn their human skin inside-out cause the other side is a wolf pelt"

If you're born on christmas day you're apparently destined to become a werewolf as punishment for your parent daring to deliver on the same day as Mary

"The seventh son is destined to become a werewolf, the seventh daughter a mare" mmmmmmmmm there's Something here I may be able to use

Quick gallows, wow what's that? Oh. Oh it's a gallows where the person has their hands bound behind their back, is pulled up by their bound hands on a pulley and then dropped from great height??????? That's uh. That doesn't sound like a good experience

Armenian werewolves are women who sinned and were thus punished by having to live for seven years as a werewolf.

There's also a creature that's somewhat between werewolf and vampire which, apparently sucks blood from the soles of the feet of people walking by

Very rough translation but "One has to burn the werewolf because otherwise he will rise from his grave a few days later. In ravenous hunger he will eat the flesh from his own hands and feet and when he has nothing else on his body to consume he will burrow out from his grave at midnight, fall into the herds and steal the animals or even go into houses, lay down by the sleeping and suck their blood from them" this is good, actually

I cannot stress enough how openly freudian this thing is

Werewolves can apparently also leave behind their bodies and wander about at night

Devilworship

"Belief in devils can be traced back to an oedipus complex" ok. sure

Apparently the devil used to be a close parallel to jesus. The whole deal: twelve apostles, went to hell and was reborn, hot bod

The devil had his own bible which was written down in Bohemia and is now in a library in Stockholm k so who's down for a trip to Stockholm after [waves hands] all this is done

"One of the later bynames of the devil was Grendel (english Grant)"

The devil is canonically bisexual and bigender

He can only impregnate folks if he previously acts as a succubus

....Merlin was a son of the devil? He was born because the devil was imitating God? His purpose was to defeat Jesus? Is this what Fate Grand Order is about

"if a woman sleeps alone the devil sleeps with her" well good for her

The devil has a second face on his butt that looks like a beautiful woman's face. He sits the wrong way around in chairs. His genitals are on his back

The Witch Epidemic

Witches like to eat babies, especially unbaptized ones

Witches apparently sometimes turned men into horses to ride to sabbath??? rad

Or they rode the devil himself in form of a horse or goat. sure

Why would witches have stigmata. I want to know, but not enough to check the source that's cited for this

The roman-catholic church is at fault for witchcraft

Apparently 40 year old witches turn into Drude which are also similar to alps

In Conclusion

This entire thing was a trip but I cannot recommend reading it or a translation. It's far too Freudian for my tastes. At least there's a little bit here that I can use for A Pale Imitation and its potential sequels.

[luukeskywalker]

i see so many arguments about whether or not it's okay to like jiang cheng; whether or not he's abusive, whether or not he's deserving of a "redemption" or reconciliation with wei wuxian, whether or not his actions and pain are justified, etc. and because he's such a complicated person, and because we all interpret his actions differently, we are never ever going to come to a general consensus on him.

but i'll give my take on him, because i love him, and i really don't see a lot of, uh, more lenient takes on Why He’s Like That. also i’m putting this under a readmore bc this is literally just for me i don’t think anybody else in the world wants to read this rambling hahaha

anyways!~

the man has problems. lots of them. he doesn't know how to truthfully voice his emotions outside of a frame of anger. he was not raised to be a wife like jiang yanli, he was not taught to perform emotional labor for the sake of his future spouse. he was taught that he is the next sect leader, and that emotions are both his weakness (from his mother) and his strength (from his father). he was brought up from a young age under the belief that there was always an unattainable goal placed right in front of him.

of course that's not all officially "canon", but you can easily see it if you read between the lines. you really can't take anything jiang cheng says seriously. not when he was a kid, and not when he’s an adult, either. and i don’t say this to excuse his actions, or to say that he’s necessarily justified because he had a tough childhood. everyone in mo dao zu shi had a tough childhood, he’s not special for that! but the way he was raised, in my opinion, explains a lot about who he is as a person, and how he interacts with the world around him. again: it doesn’t justify his actions. it merely explains them.

i think he’s terribly interesting. every character reacts to their traumas in different ways - lan xichen covers everything up with a gentle smile, wei wuxian cracks jokes about his own mortality, lan wangji searched out evil as often as he could to make the world a little safer - hell, even nie huaisang adapted to trauma by creating an entirely different persona so that he could gather information and plot in peace. jiang cheng’s reaction to trauma was to take that anger he grew up with, all his frustration at never being good enough, all his worry about his family, all his rage at the people who have betrayed and left him - and he turned it into armor. 

he doesn’t know how to take the armor off. after years and years (thirteen or sixteen, it’s really up to the reader, i suppose), he’s worn it so tightly that he thinks that anger is all he is. everyone else thinks so, anyways, and when have the greater masses ever been wrong in mo dao zu shi?

oh, that’s right, literally every single time. 

call me an apologist if you must but i highly doubt jiang cheng ever actually tortured and killed demonic cultivators that reminded him of wei wuxian. the only time we have ever heard that was through idle gossip, and if mo dao zu shi has taught us anything, it’s that idle gossip is never to be trusted. he tells jin ling to kill wei wuxian in the beginning, but instead he decides he wants to take wei wuxian back to lotus pier. His first instinct is to feel anger, is to lash out. and he was still angry, but can you really blame him? he’s spent so many years with the weight of his family’s death weighing on him - practically all alone - and the man he considers responsible for it shows up out of the blue one night. 

and yes, wei wuxian’s isn’t solely responsible for jiang cheng’s loss. duh. but he had a pretty big part to play in all of it, and trauma can do weird things to someone’s memories. jiang cheng may know on some logical level that his brother isn’t responsible for all of it, but years pass and pain doesn’t really fade as much as it should, and feelings and memories warp into something more easily digestible - it gives jiang cheng something to feel besides conflicting mourning. anger is where he feels safest.

and that brings me to another point - his relationship with jin ling. now, this one is a bit of a hot topic (lol). there’s, afaik, a lot of discourse around whether or not jiang cheng is abusive towards jin ling. and i do understand and see why people would think he is abusive - for all the reasons i mentioned above. he’s a traumatized man who finds comfort in anger. he’s particularly strict with jin ling when it comes to night hunts, especially during that hunt in dafan mountain. he makes threats of physical harm and is pretty much always yelling. i can see why people see these actions and label him abusive.

but i really don’t agree. he is strict with jin ling on night hunts - he’s terrified something will happen to his sister’s child, at the same time he wants jin ling to succeed. who set up all those nets for him during that hunt? clearly jiang cheng. the whole “if you can’t catch something, don’t bother coming home” line dripped with “i have said this exact phrase a million times before and i’ve never meant it” energy, as does every “i’ll break your legs” comment. jin ling himself admits it - jiang cheng has never, ever laid a hand on him! the only uncle to ever smack him around is wei wuxian. 

of course abuse is more than physical harm. but i don’t really think he abuses jin ling at all. jiang cheng really loves jin ling, he cares for that boy more than literally anything else in the world. a scene that really sticks out to me is “who made you cry?!” - he does not admonish jin ling for crying. he wants to know who made his boy upset so he can go beat them up. jin ling clearly knows he’s not in any real danger from his uncle - if he was, why the hell would be continuously disobey him and do shit that directly pisses him off? the ONE time he was truly afraid of going back to jiang cheng was because he’d lied and disobeyed jiang cheng’s direct order. sure he wouldn’t be like, beaten for that, but he’d been nervous as all hell at koi tower, and i’d personally attribute that behavior to guilt. he knew he’d done a bad thing, but he’d done it anyways. 

this post is really insanely long so i’m just gonna try and wrap it up here: jiang cheng is a really complicated and fucked up dude. i get why people don’t like him but i don’t really agree with the sentiment. he’s fucked up and crazy and so is everyone else in mdzs, he’s just the most vocal about it. call all of this fanon if you want, idc, it’s just how i’ve perceived his character after experiencing mo dao zu shi like five times in different formats. his anger is his protection, because nobody else is gonna protect him. he tries to use it to protect jin ling, but to anyone who isn’t jin ling, it comes off as overtly harsh. love languages are hard to understand sometimes. jiang cheng’s love language is more complicated than the entirety of the fucking homestuck shipping chart.

if anyone has even read all of this, why, why did you decide to do that, also thank you? please don’t fight with me on this my mind will not be changed lol

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

13. Exposing the Void Pt. 1

A lot of this chapter is straight up Simon’s thoughts, so it gets jumbled and possibly confusing. Let me know if there’s parts where things are unclear (most likely in those times, we’re inside of Simon’s thoughts). Word Count: 5969. Trigger Warnings: Self harm, child death, child abuse, mental instability, mental abuse, dehumanization, betrayal, delusions, intrusive thoughts... 

This chapter was actually the hardest for me to write in this story, thus far. And please keep in mind that in this space, there is no ableism allowed. So, refrain from using terms about psychosis or mental illness as insults towards the characters. The purpose is not to blame Simon’s actions on poor mental health or to excuse his behavior due to his trauma. The purpose is to understand a story in a world where mental illness is not necessarily the cause of why some people do evil things, but is sometimes a factor (not usually, as mentally ill people are generally more likely to hurt themselves than others), but yes, there are occasions where our psychosis can led to dangerous outbursts. Please don’t use the phrase “Go psycho” when referring to any variation of Simon Laurent, even this one. Thank you.

Previous

Simon was getting a tattoo. He’d already decided that much. He didn’t know of what, but he was convinced that he would think of something. It seemed healthier than self harm, at least… and a professional would mark him in this scenario. 

He had a full course on his schedule, additional hours of extracurricular activities and work, plus interviews and maintaining his website. Plenty to do to keep his mind off of it - the void. His nostrils flared just thinking about it. Sometimes, he found himself checking social media for updates from a backup account. He had been blocked under his personal and professional ones. But, it wasn’t back. The last post was the same post that had been shared to each of them by its team.

“Hello, Apex Members. On behalf of The Internet’s Honey, Miss Grace Monroe, we would like to express the sincerest apologies for the negativity that has been spread and for the things that Miss Monroe stands accused of. She is seeking help at a secure location, and it is our hope that she will return to you soon, in all of her glory, fully restored, healthy and well.”

The comments were thousands of “Fuck Grace Monroe. She’s cancelled.” etc. He had been amused before, but the more comments that were added, the more numb he became to them. He was numb to many things… still somehow… it left its mark on him. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at his tallies… it left several. “Fuck Grace Monroe,” he whispered, shook his head and said in a louder, more confident tone, “Fuck the void.” A little mantra before his early AM classes. 

Whenever he got home, though… He went through a range of emotions for a while. Everybody lies to me. Everybody leaves me… Even when nothing had anything to do with this thought process, if he wasn’t focused deeply on something else, there were the thoughts. Sometimes, even when he WAS working on something else. The thing about living alone and being at home was that he had a lot of time to get trapped in his harmful thoughts, and no Grace there to ease things. Not anymore.

It started with his mother. She was only going to be gone “for a little while.” 

Simon wasn't confident in his abilities to watch himself AND a younger person. He was a cub scout and even a careful child, but he knew that Hope could be a handful, sometimes even for their parents. “I don’t think I can watch Hope, Mom.”

“Oh, of course you can, Simon!” She cheered. “It’s only for a little, short, while, and you’re my capable little man.”

Hope laughed and said, “He’s not a man. He’s Simon.”

“If Mom says I’m a man, then I am!”

Their mom clarified, “He’s a big boy who gets to be man of the house when Mommy and Daddy aren’t here. Mommy’s Little Man. You’ve got this, Si. Like I said, only a little while.” She tousled his hair and filled him with confidence that he had not had a few minutes prior… then she was gone for what felt like forever. 

18 year old Simon knew that she had only been gone for 2 hours, but as a 10 year old watching a 4 year old who didn’t want to be watched by a “fake man,” it seemed like a lengthy stretch of time. With Hope doing things that she knew she shouldn’t, taunting him by telling him that he’s a fake man and that’s why he couldn’t stop her, and whenever she tried to go into the attic, that was the last straw. He had gotten really mad at her. She had been teasing him, calling him a fake man, a little baby, a small, small Simon… He didn’t mean to hurt her, but he was offended by her name calling. He was only going to drag her into her room and make her have a time out. 

18 year old him knew that he was angry when he grabbed her by the back of her shirt, as hard as he could, upset with her, but also needing to get her off of the ladder and into her room. 10 year old him yanked her off of the ladder and flung her to the floor beneath them with rage. She let out a screaming laugh whenever she went flying down, but when she hit the floor… she became silent. 

Simon shook his head. That wasn’t my fault. I was a child! The void had been right about that. “Who leaves a 10 year old home alone with a 4 year old?” He heard her voice ask, when they were kids. More than that - Who tells a boy that young that he is trusted with the life of a smaller child? That he’s “a man” because you need a little favor? Two. Hours!  

He still didn’t know how long he had sat there trying to wake Hope up before their mother came back or where she was at that time, but wherever she was, he hoped she thought about it every single day that she tried to blame him. He hoped it ate away at her and corrupted her from the inside out until her health faded and her heart stopped. He didn’t always feel that way. 

When he was 10, he blamed himself. He loved his mother. He wanted her back. He wanted to be her little man again, even though he failed her. He was still so young and confused, and nobody was helping him to understand it all. He couldn’t answer why he didn’t call 911. He was scared. He was crying. He... just didn’t think about it at the time. He hadn’t been prepared for an emergency.It was supposed to just be a little while! I was supposed to be the man of the house. Nothing bad was supposed to happen on my watch...

It continued with his father. So furious with his wife’s decision that he couldn’t stand to share the same breathing space with her most of the time. Unfortunately, that also meant not sharing it with Simon. He told Simon that he didn’t blame him. He lied. Some part of him had to, because otherwise, why would he have left him with the woman who had been so irresponsible that they already lost one child? Because… he died in his father’s eyes that night, too. The man was just too much of a coward to admit it. So, he just… left.

And Grace… He almost started crying, but shook his head and shook her it out of his mind. “Void,” he said and clenched his fists. Still… He missed her it. She It was the only thing that used to be able to get his mind off of his family, his pain, his guilt, his rage… 

For so long, she it was the only thing. Now, he was left to just force himself to live through this. He was better off. It was going to stop his full potential. It had already stunted him so much. He spent years building a fortress for it and throwing himself in front of everything that came its way. Never again. 

.

After they began officially dating, she was acting weird and he let it go. This was new for both of them and she was still trying to figure out her sexuality. He thought he was extremely understanding about her characteristics. As a matter of fact, up until the moment that he realized that she was a liar, he found no flaws in her at all. He loved all of her, perfect in every way and in the ways that she wasn’t, he never took notice. He just re-imaged those things as perfect, because they were things that were of Grace. Being a snobby, rich bitch - fine. Being lazy and irresponsible, sure. Being wishy-washy and confusing… he didn’t love that, but he accepted it and always assumed that maybe he was mistaken, or maybe she was the confused one in those moments. He never thought that she was deceiving him. Now, it was all that he could think about.

How many lies she must have told him over the years, how much of his childhood and adolescence was built upon those lies… He had to try to void everything that he had ever known her to be from his life, and from his mind.

“Do you not love me?”

“I do!”

Had he not been so blinded by his love, he would have known that she didn’t mean it. He would have heard it in her tone. He would have seen it in her eyes. “The void was just that good,” he told himself. “It tricked everyone. You watched it work for so long, you thought that you were exempt. It cares about nothing but itself.”

She seemed like she was withdrawing from him. He didn’t want to see it at the time, but he knew what that looked like. He couldn’t stop his mother from doing it. He couldn’t stop his father from doing it. He couldn’t even keep the pet cat around! How does one even run off an animal? 

The point was… he saw Grace leaving. He saw her packing up. He saw her setting out. He did everything he could possibly think of to prevent it, even before she realized that she was leaving. But, when somebody wants to get away from you, they’ll do whatever you let them do to get away. She should have thanked him. He not only let her go, but he removed her completely. That’s what she wanted, anyway. She made that decision herself. “The void would have taken everything from you. Everything you worked for. Everything you’ve built. Everything you set in place to manage without the liars, the leavers, the lost ones…” 

She first began slipping away from him before they became official. She started having problems with things that she didn’t have problems with previously… Honestly, she started the moment that she chose to leave him behind to tour for the summer when they were 15. The previous 5 years,  she had plenty of times she could have went on the road. She either blew off her auditions or she didn’t push herself as hard. She had said that she could show off her skills on the Internet and have just as big of a following, if not a bigger one than if she built a resume of dance troupes and traveling ballet. She even forfeited the chance to be in a Broadway production, because she was worried that she’d never get to see him again. Then, when they were 15… It became more important to her than him.

He tried not to take it personally, because she had sacrificed plenty of opportunities for him before. But, it was a bad time for him, and a busy time and… he needed her. He always needed her back then. He had never been prepared to not have her. Sure, he could have went with her, like she wanted, but if HE put off his things, he didn’t have rich parents to fall back on. He didn’t have parents to fall back on, period. She… was in more of a position to give up her goals… but she had decided not to. That was fair. He told himself many times every day that was fair and she deserved to choose herself sometime. She came back changed… or maybe he changed without her there. That much doesn’t matter, right now. What matters is that he TRIED to fix them. She leaned more into these changes. These changes that could tear them apart. Changes that would leave him lonely again, for the first time in years.

Grace was working on her music career junior year. After the tour, she had connections that she didn’t want to go cold. She would throw herself into those and into creation while Simon was working on a future that he still hoped was for both of them. He was working his ass off for them, but in hindsight, she was working hers off for herself. After she was Simon’s girlfriend, at school, things felt different for her. Everybody treated her exactly the same way that they always had, but everything was just different. 

Simon was either more social than she knew him to be, or had gotten that way overnight. Then again… He was in StuCo and held a position… so he had the social skills to at least win people over. She supposed that she hadn’t noticed because he was the one who she always had to talk out of a fight. He was more than that, of course, but… she guessed that she hadn’t realized how many friends he must’ve had, because he was doing a lot and having to leave her behind, most of the time.

Most times, he gave her a quick rundown of what type of stuff he had to do for the day, kissed her on the cheek, promised to see her later and rushed off. She chalked it up to the busy schedule that he had been speaking about for this year, at least a year in advance, and didn’t think much of it. At least, whenever they had space, she didn’t have to wonder what to do next. She didn’t have to decide if she should be sitting in his lap like his friend’s girlfriend, or in between his legs like that girl across the way, or straddling him like Shana sometimes did whoever she was dating, or… sit there, with her book, pretending not to see any of it and smiling at Simon whenever they made eye contact. 

Simon was always studying her, surveying, making inventory of her expressions and potential emotions. She could feel him investigating and she didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know what to do with his findings… Why was she so uncomfortable when he looked at her? Why did she shy away from his gaze? What was wrong with her that she didn’t want his attention? She always wanted attention… it was basically her identity! Not only did she start to seemingly have problems with his attention, but also the rest of the world’s attention.

Being trapped in her room most of the time meant more work on her music. Anytime she posted something new, someone always showed up to remind others of how she "accosted an innocent woman on the train and threatened to ruin her life if she sought justice" and that she "is actually a terrible person." Sure, her fans defended her, but her focus was stuck on the negative feedback. Simon told her, “Don’t worry about those nulls. You’re Apex royalty. They’re scrubs.” He wasn’t remotely concerned about it. 

Simon had asked himself if he had defended her to them, would things have been different between them… but the previous times he had defended her, she got mad at him! It took him days to get her back to normal, and even then, she seemed tepid. She was letting a bunch of strangers on the Internet doubt herself. 

“She let a bunch of nulls weigh in on her confidence, then she got made at ME for agreeing with her parents that it was weak of her. It was! The Apex doesn’t care about the opinions of nulls!” He realized that he was speaking of the void like it was a person again. Personifying it. Humanizing it. That was sometimes difficult not to do. He would tap into his disappointment, hurt, and anger and he knew it was because of this rot that had spread in his life for years. 

But, every now and then a glimmer of her smile, her smell, her softness would hit him in the heart and he would forget about it temporarily. For a few moments, she would be the love of his life again… “It doesn’t care about you. It never did. The void is a parasite. It would have poisoned everything, if you hadn’t cut the head off and incapacitated it.”

He glanced over at a mannequin head designed to look like it. It had given him the idea, inadvertently whenever it jokingly accused him of being a life size figurine of himself. Immediately, he thought - I’ve gotta make her one of those! It was a passion project, and of course, he didn’t have a lot of time to work on it, but the head was complete by the time it showed itself as the hollow it was.

.

Grace felt like she hadn’t smiled for real in a while. Nobody really noticed. The Apex didn’t know her that well. Simon didn’t have time for her. Her parents probably never cared. She went into town with her flock of girls, these days. She felt like Simon was sending them to be around her and she didn’t know if that was sweet or creepy. But, she ditched them at the mall to go to see him. He was at work that night, at the learning center. He had a job helping to tutor struggling kids - one that his credits as a student tutor at the Academy, his grades, his position as one of the students enrolled in the early college program, and a recommendation from Mr. Monroe got him hired at, despite the fact that most of the staff here were actual educators. 

They didn’t even know about the fact that Simon had started a business of doing people's homework, projects, sometimes their tests from the time he was 11 until he was 15. He was definitely qualified for tutoring, but it was her father’s recommendation that really gave him the edge over actual teachers. He was satisfied enough there. He still did a project or two for the rich kids when he could squeeze something in, for extra cash. He was saving up to move out of his dad’s house. Now that his mother was at her mother’s, his dad was considering leaving the military and coming home. Simon didn’t want to be around for that, but there never seemed to be enough money for anything. That was his “adult” experience… Working all of the time, going to school, barely hanging on to his sanity, and yet being so broke that had his father not still been paying the bills, he knew he might be homeless and starving… so it was presumable that's how he might live once Mr. Laurent got back.

He couldn't ask the Monroes for more help. They had practically been taking care of him for the past two years. Mr. Monroe, at least, had been helpful in ways that Simon couldn’t describe. Sure, he believed he would have figured things out for himself , but thanks to the Monroes, he hadn't had to. He intended to pay them back eventually, but for now, he worked hard and loved Grace with everything else he had. 

"Hey." He heard her say, walking in with a bag and a cup holder. His smile was wide and his eyes lit up. That made her reflexively smile back. How many of those smiles were fake, he’d have to wonder for as long as he couldn’t shake her out of his mind. “Ditched the girls to bring you dinner. Didn’t know if you’d have a chance to get to some on your own.”

He checked the time on his phone, “Actually, you’re right on time. I was about to go into the computer room and work on homework before I head out.”

“Yeah! Great timing is a thing that I definitely usually don’t have.” 

They went into the breakroom to eat and Simon was on his phone, furrowing his eyebrows and blocking people in Grace’s comments. She glanced over and saw, then sank in her seat, not wanting to think about her latest post. “This sounds really good, Grace,” he told her.  And he meant it. The vocal coach that she had began to see so that she could confidently transition into singing was paying off. It wasn’t that she sounded bad before, but her voice was pretty bland and she didn’t seem to be able to find her range on her own. 

“I wish the audience thought that,” she said, with a sigh. The Internet was making her depressed and isolated. Every thing that she shared came with thousands of critics. As someone used to only either being complimented or ignored, criticism hurt a little more than she would have expected. Perhaps because she was too popular and therefore attracted more feedback than a person probably should have to be faced with at 16.

Regardless of that, Simon shrugged and said, “Anybody who doesn’t like it doesn’t have to listen to it. They’re there, so they obviously wanted to hear the song. Besides, I see way more support than hate.” 

“Maybe so, but there’s a LOT of hate, and it’s very aggressive and hurtful. Like… I don’t understand why me trying out a new song and someone not liking it can’t just be scrolled by. Why did this girl have to tell me: Ugh. Everybody tries to be a singer. You’re a lip gloss model, Honey. Keep doing that. Beautiful gowns.”

“Because, she’s a bitch,” Simon said and took a bite of his sandwich. Grace let out an irritated sigh that caused him to look up from his phone. “What?”

“You just… don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get? The song sounds good. You have excellent equipment. You wrote pretty clever lyrics, did your own music, sang and was proud enough of your work to share it with the world. Now that a few birds have come squawking, you no longer see the greatness in what you shared? I know you wouldn't have posted it if you didn’t think it was perfect. So, I get it more than you do. You’re distracted by someone with a crooked wig on in her profile picture?” 

Grace looked at the profile picture and saw that the woman’s wig definitely had been sadly placed onto her head. She laughed about it  and laughed at herself a little too… but this was always Simon’s reaction to her venting about the people that made her feel bad. He’d basically make her feel a little bit worse by not acknowledging that her feelings were valid and by pointing out how insignificant her critics were. The simple fact that he had a point, that they were nulls, and she was letting them upset her only made her feel worse, which she couldn’t tell him because he didn’t seem to take her feeling bad that seriously anyway. 

She knew it was because she had always prided herself on being strong and not caring what people thought about her… but she was handled a lot differently outside of her echo chamber. The Internet was global and her following was high, but some of the people who followed her seemed to do it just to see what to complain about, just to make a dent in her day. They succeeded, too. But, the only person she could admit it to just told her to suck it up. 

“I’m thinking about going to a performing arts college,” she said. Simon dropped his phone and stared at her. She smiled awkwardly and said, “I mean… You’re preparing pretty hardcore for college and I’ve dived into this music thing. Maybe, I ought to be more serious about it and actually get the official credentials..”

“Where are you thinking of going?”

“I’m thinking of trying to go to Julliard.” He relaxed a little bit at that. Juilliard was in New York. That would be farther from him than he  would like, but if he was at MIT, that would be about an hour away and if he was at Princeton… well… That would be 3 hours, or more… but… He had enough time to put these things into his planning and decision making. “Or… I might go uh, overseas.” Now, his frown was embedded in all of his features. “If I can’t get into the best one in the world, I’m going to shoot for the next best… that’s in Austria…” She bit her lip, waiting for his demeanor to change, hoping that he just had to think about it for a moment. His demeanor did change, but he seemed further away from what she wanted of him at the moment. “What brought this on?” He asked.

“Just… want to get more serious about my craft. Sure, I can spend hours and hours a day working on choreography and songs, training with some of the best professionals in the entire world, but people are still coming onto my dance video posts and saying things like, “I didn’t know that Grace Monroe could dance! I love her more now!” Didn’t know that I could dance? That’s like… the ONE THING that I can do with complete confidence! I’m trying to get my music career started when my first talent isn’t even recognized…”

“It IS recognized! It’s recognized ALL of the time. You’re just so focused on the dregs that don’t recognize, that you’re willing to go 4000 miles away from me, for years, to impress strangers on the Internet who probably STILL won’t fuck with you, because most of the people inciting you are people who just don’t like you, Grace!” He let out a chuckle of disbelief, but she hated it.

“Don’t laugh,” she said, very seriously.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, shook his head, then slumped back in his seat, resting his face in his palm as he tried to collect himself. 

"How could you have possibly taken everything that I just told you about how I'm feeling and what I intend to try to do about that and just… make it about you?"

He uncovered his face to look at hers. She looked like she was going to cry. He hated when she cried. It was too far away from her normal… at least it used to be. She was crying more and more lately. Sometimes from the littlest things.

"If you can't see how much a decision like that will affect both of us, then I'm not sure if I currently am in the mood to explain it to you."

"Whenever I shared my thoughts about how much people were hurting my feelings, you didn't care about how that could affect the both of us. You just expected me to deal with it on my own. This is my idea for how I deal with that."      

He leaned his elbows on the small table, steepled his fingers and rested his head against his hands. She wants to leave you. She’s using the excuse that people are hurting her feelings so that she can leave you and never come back. She never wanted you. She made that clear and you refused to see it. You thought that it was your brain being mean to you. She lied to you. She never loved you and she never wanted you. Now, she’s pretending that worthless people make her feel bad… She would rather look WEAK to you than to stay with you… 

“Simon?” She said. He scoffed. Fake concern. Don’t let her trick you with her soft voice. She’s venomous. She let you love her because she was bored, and now, she’s trying to abandon you like everyone else. “Simon,” she said, more stern. Drown her out. Drown her out. Drown her out. Drown her… “Simon!” She had gotten up and turned his face to look at her with her palm. She made him look into her eyes and he was powerless again. “Where’d you go?” She asked, smiling nervously.

“Did I do something wrong? Why do you want to leave me?” He asked, in a small voice. Maybe his brain was being mean right now. Maybe… it was all a misunderstanding? PLEASE, JUST TELL ME YOU LOVE ME AND THAT I’M OVERREACTING! I. WILL. BELIEVE. YOU.

“No. I did. I thought that I was ready to introduce myself to the world and now that the world knows me, there’s people out there who can’t stand me and I just… I don’t know how to do with that. In real life, they at least pretend to like me, you know?”

She rubbed her hands together anxiously. Lies. She can’t possibly care about the way these strangers feel. She’s Grace Monroe. She knows that she’s invincible. Caring about the movements of ants is futile… “Okay… What do you need me to do to fix it?” He asked, trying to ignore his brain’s warnings.

“Just, support me? I just want to take a step back from all the Internet music, maybe keep creating and try to get into a studio with something I’m proud of, instead of posting onto my websites, and… I really want to try to go to school, just to be more confident that I really do belong in the industry and that I’m not just Internet famous because I was a pretty face with the best organic lip gloss.”

“Support you… leaving me,” he said. 

She couldn’t pick up any emotion. It was like something had settled in his mind. Something that he didn’t let her know. “It would be temporary, Simon. Just like whenever you thought you would have to go to the military after graduation.”

“I recall very minimal support from you in regards to that.”

“Yeah, well… I stick by what I said. Our military is a global terrorist, oppressing and destroying civilization in mostly Brown nations. Juilliard is hardly like that, and I most likely will get in! I don’t think I'll HAVE to go to Austria. I wanted to be clear that it’s an option.  I just meant the time that we’ll be apart. Plus, I’d send for you if you ever need to see me.” She knelt beside him, cupped his face and kissed him on the lips. He froze in place. She NEVER kisses you on the lips. She always moves her face to make you kiss her on the cheek, or the nose, or… something. She’s placed her hand between your mouths, before! You can’t ignore this any further. It’ll break your heart. You’ve lost her. There’s a void where your Grace once was… Tears fell down Simon’s cheeks as he stared at Grace’s confused face.

She wiped them away with her thumbs and as his tears were being cleared away, so was her face. He just saw a blurry form in front of him, a dark shadow, with an aura of smoke. He looked terrified. She turned to look behind her, alarmed by his reaction, thinking something was hovering over her. She definitely felt a switch of things in the atmosphere. She didn’t see anything though. Simon did.

A void. It stood in front of him, speaking with Grace’s voice and trying to pass itself off as the girl he’d loved for as long as he knew her. That girl was obviously gone. No longer fit for him. No longer fit for the Apex. “Okay.” He said, suddenly fine, as far as she could tell. “I’ll support you.” She offered him a small, confused smile, but he didn’t return it. He didn’t even look at her again. He collected their trash, threw it out and took her hand, “I’ll get you home. 

.

Simon was silent the entire way to the Monroe’s estate. He didn’t get out to get her door, or walk her to the mansion, or talk with her father, so she knew that even though he said he was okay with her decision, that he wasn’t. It was best to just give him his space to work it out, she thought. She thought wrong... Simon tensed up whenever she kissed him on the cheek goodnight. As soon as she got out of the car, he peeled away, vigorously wiping the Apex red lip print from his face. She didn’t deserve to grant anybody that mark anymore. 

He drove with trembling hands and lips, talking to himself, arguing with himself about Grace. Grace that once hunted down his bullies with him because she thought he was the most important person in the world. Grace who had threatened anyone who so much as said something rude to him in passing. Grace... who used to want to be near him, and have his back. The Grace that couldn’t stand the thought of being anywhere without him at her side... She was as dead to him as Hope was. 

Speaking of... This had began right around the time that she brought him to the cemetery. Was it related? Had Hope somehow reached over and taken her vengeance on him by stealing away his Grace and replacing her with this dark spirit? This ghost? This VOID??? He pulled into the garage of his house, crying again. He left his backpack in the car. He wasn’t going to be doing anymore work that night. He passed the shrine that his father had in the workspace every time he pulled in, but usually, he avoided looking at it. Tonight, he paused and stared at her face. He... had forgotten it. He looked at the photos, wondering if she always looked that way? Not the angel that he remembered dying, but something sinister, smiling joyously at him as he shriveled in pain. “Did you do this?” He asked her. He could hear her laughs in his mind from that night. Her taunting him, making him feel like he wasn’t enough. “I didn’t mean it, Hope! It was an accident!” he yelled at the photos. 

“Fake man! Fake man! Wook at the widdle baby man! Can’t catch me! You’re not a man! Mommy lied! Mommy lied!” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t... Please, just... stop.” He whispered, crying more than he had in a long time. Her photos began to move, to cackle, to point at him and call him a baby man... He roared and punched the display, breaking the glass of the frame, which fell on it’s face, bounced off of the desk and crashed to the floor. Now, it was covered in blood. Only a bit of it was from his fist... the rest seemed to be seeping from the cracks in the frame. Like... he had killed Hope, all over again. He picked up a shard of the glass and clenched it in his fist. This was too much. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. This was his mind messing with him, He needed to center himself.

He raised his sleeve and looked at all of the tally marks that he had made for his Grace and he began to add on to them. “1 You are stronger than anybody you know. 2 You are smarter than anybody you know. 3 You can survive losing Grace. 4 Only you can get rid of the void that swallowed her whole. 5 You owe the Apex to get rid of the void. 6 You can do anything. 7 There’s nobody who could stop you. 8 You’re on your own now, but that’s for the best. 9 No one will hold you back. 10 No one can hurt you again, because everyone you loved is gone...” He took a deep breath, looked at the broken frame and threw his piece of glass on top of it. He didn’t even care about cleaning it up. The girl in the photo couldn’t hurt him anymore. And neither could the one in his memories... The one that he used to call Grace, “The void,” he said, going into the house. 

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