#but part of it was always doomed from the start just with how it's production got going

[greenjester]

Sometimes I feel like the loner in evil withins fanbase in thinking that the first game was alright enough on it’s own that it didn’t really need the extra sequel tagged onto it and would have preferred it was the only one.

1 wasn’t a perfect game by any means (yeah you can really tell by how it feels that the director only put his heart in it towards the last half of it it and it shows) but it was still serviceable enough. We didn’t have all answers directly but it’s one of those that did fine enough without having to try and hand it out either. But 2 imo didn’t pick up it’s torch very well to carry on with and I had quite a few issues with how it was written overall.

At this point I think I would be happier to see it kinda left where it’s at rather than have 3 come through, mostly because I don’t have a lot of faith they can really pick back up where they need it to go

[spacemonkeysalsa]

I read about an evil magistrate in another Faerûn city, a few decades after Astarion had that job in Baldur's Gate and it has me thinking about his pre-vampire days, and my irl time as a Las Vegas law clerk. A lot.

Full disclosure: I feel a little guilty that I wrote so much on this topic rather than on one of my fics.

I wrote very little in July 🫣but it's because I was drawing and reading instead.

I read 13 books, but they were the first 13 Legend of Drizzt books.

And while writing fic, I've avoid details about Astarion's background as a magistrate, for reasons I've talked about a lot before, but I might need to rethink that, because one book in the Drizzt series just gave me SO MUCH context for what the world was like around the time that Astarion would have had this job, and also, what that job was like, and how it was very effected by geography and race. And I have THOUGHTS. Thousands of words of thoughts, apparently, below the cut.

TL;DR - The popular idea that pre-Cazador Astarion is the biggest possible asshole so he "earns" his fate is boring as hell, not actually supported by canon, or the examples of magistrates that we see in FR (who don't even need to be corrupt to satisfy cruel inclinations) and I deeply prefer going in a totally different direction. Below the cut is me working through my headcanon, and why I came to these conclusions.

I tagged this appropriately I think, but to emphasize, topics of relevance include horror movie tropes, torture, the deeply flawed American justice system, and the even more deeply flawed one in Faerûn as described by the Forgotten Realms novels I've read and the mentions/demonstrations in Bladur's Gate 3.

If you feel you need to avoid thinking about all of that, you are valid, and probably more correct than me for doing so.

And as always, it's just my opinion, based on my experiences. All headcanon is equally headcanon.

To start, I'm going to briefly reiterate that:

Astarion's canon backstory is thin on purpose and that all we really know about him is that he was a magistrate with not-red eyes who made an unpopular ruling that was unpopular for an unspecified reason and got jumped by Gur for a (heavily implied to be unreliable narrator influenced) reason.

That artbook is a developmental tool that is actually less likely to ever be considered canon than even a later stage developmental tool like a full manuscript outline precisely because of its position in the process.

But, before I get into what I read in Drizzt, I want to establish that my head space started from thinking about how much sadder it is if Astarion actually did have compassionate ideals and a balanced sense of justice prior to Cazador. The reason I think it's sadder is best illustrated by the choice to either make a doomed horror movie character sympathetic or an asshole. What happens to Astarion is basically a horror show, and some people prefer those fates are reserved exclusively for asshole victims. There's reasons to write this way, and it can be done well, but it's very easy to make it feel cheap and contrived and it's usually a sign of an amateur production, and a quick way to make an accessible film rather than a good one. Another option (which can also be done well or done poorly) is to harm characters who did absolutely nothing wrong.

To be clear, whether or not we like a character doesn't affect whether or not they "deserve" death. Horror movies often deal with totally disproportionate consequences, and the gruesome fate not really being "earned" can be an inherent part of the horror regardless of our sympathy.

But, I'm not sad when the evil teenagers in Toxic Avenger are killed. I am not that sad when Jigsaw's traps prove to be too much for his chosen victims. What happens to Julia's marks in Hellraiser doesn't move me as much as what's going on with Kirsty, even if they didn't deserve it, because they aren't particularly sympathetic.

And the thing about using characters like that is that it's not realistic. And to be clear, I don't think you always have to be realistic to tell a good story, in fact, please don't always cling to realism. But realism in characterization is usually a stronger choice, and should be considered generally. Most people are not as flat and unsympathetic as the asshole victims in slasher flicks. Even people who do bad things are not so one dimensional as to instill no sympathy in irl humans. I think people like to flatten Astarion in their mind, so that they don't have to confront the fact that very bad things happen all the time, and that most people didn't do anything to earn a horrible fate.

In the specific case of what happened to Astarion, even if he was a bad person, it's very difficult to ever make 200 years of torture, the loss of autonomy, exploitation on every level, including physical, sexual and psychological abuse, ever feel proportional. So at this point, some people need something to make it seem more just. Either because they hate the character, and want to feel that hating the character is objectively correct, or their worldview includes an idea of justice that can't accept such disproportionality.

And if you need that for your headcanon, dope. you're allowed whatever headcanon you want.

The "corrupt magistrate" thing isn't canon. It's headcanon. I understand that some people who really seem to know what they are talking about said it was canon, that's because they are wrong. People are wrong sometimes.

I recently became aware that although I thought we were all playing the same game, a bunch of players have never seen what I've seen, because it's all missable content. And, because everyone knows there's a bunch of stuff they haven't seen, it's real easy to just believe any random person on the internet who tells you something is buried deep in the game that you don't know about.

This specific situation with Astarion's canon backstory is that you'll never find much in the game, no matter how much you play, because there's nothing to find. Here's the facts: -There was never anything about Astarion being corrupt in the game, in early access, or in any of the writing that made it to recording. It was an idea that was discussed very early on---like back when we almost had a werewolf companion, (RIP Helia, you would've loved what I put you through) and they went in a totally different direction. Essentially, just imagine what they ultimately ended up doing with Gortash, and know that they were thinking about doing something similar with Astarion, but a long, long time ago.

-In the game, he'll lie and tell you he's a magistrate in Baldur's Gate and that it's tedious.

-Or, if you wait to ask him about himself until after you know he's a vampire, he'll tell you he was a magistrate, punishing troublemakers.

-Backstory complete!

-Art books are great, and beautiful, and it's baffling to me to see fans treat them like canon content, because if anything, they demonstrate various attempts to put together a story that ultimately didn't land for the creators. I love using materials like this when I write, I create character sheets and artbooks for my work all the time, and part of their charm is the features that didn't make it into the final work. Minthara is no longer an elven cleric, Shadowheart isn't covered in tattoos, and Astarion isn't one of corrupt elite of Baldur's Gate, or even elite, or a courtesan. Stop bringing up the artbook, you're embarrassing yourselves.

-There's actual explicit dialogue in game in which Astarion says he doesn't remember much from before he was turned. He says the person he was is gone, nothing left but a name on a rock. That's what's intentionally in the game. I think this is brilliant, because I think his character represents loss in a really poignant way, and that if they included anything too detailed about who he was before he got turned, that would undermine this theme, in a way that's especially unnecessary. It's better to keep it purposefully blank. A void of nothing. I'm actually really surprised that they didn't do this for Shadowheart, given that she's a Sharran, but in her story, we actually see a really nice counterexample: she does recall small details about her time in the city. Coming back there triggers memories and if you find all three of them---[spoiler deleted, please message me if you want to know about this, I've been informed I shouldn't just shout this out, because some people like to discover this stuff on their own. But also I'm not a gatekeeper, if you really want to know, I'm happy to tell you]. There's none of that for Astarion, in fact, if you go to the cemetery looking for his grave, which is something I think a lot of us did, you won't find any mention of him anywhere, but you will find one of those Shadowheart memories if she's with you. You only get to see Astarion's grave briefly, if you're romancing him, and even then, he once again takes the opportunity to talk about the person he once was truly is lost to him (and to us) and gone forever, long before we ever had the chance to know him.

It's tragic, and kind of perfect.

And in the meta of all this, it's intentional that we'll never known him. We might think we do, but we literally can't, because it's not in the story.

Which is good because it would ruin the scene a bit if he'd been like "btw I was a real piece of shit lmao." Just like it kind of ruins the affect of the empty backstory to go ahead and add a backstory.

But. We're curious, we speculate, and we expand, that's what fanfiction is for—it exists outside of the canon. I usually write post-canon, canon-consistent content, but there's a possibility I'll need to add a few scenes from Astarion's mortal life in this one fic—maybe not, idk—but in preparation for maybe doing that (or not), I had considered working through what I think his life was life before he was turned, and the events leading up to Cazador capturing him. I wasn't sold on the idea, but I was thinking about it.

And, then I started reading Spine of The World, which features an actual magistrate from DR 1365. This one is um. Corrupt. Or, at least, we would consider him to be corrupt? He's actually doing his job perfectly according to the very messed up justice system in Luskan, where he works. They don't have a concept of burden of proof there, or of innocence at all after you manage to get yourself arrested, and instead essentially just torture people to death publicly and explicitly for entertainment. It's not chill. It's not subtle. They call it Prisoner's Carnival.

This magistrate has Astarion's exact job, in a different city and a few decades later (and those differences matter, we'll get to it) but the important features are the same. So, here's some things to note: being a magistrate is a position of limited power, you have total discretion over the prisoners given to you for punishment (minus a few notable exceptions that come up in Spine of The World), but that's it. It's not like an influential political position of respect or anything. It can't be, because they are beholden to laws they can't change, and cultural traditions that are non-negotiable parts of the community.

This guy is referred to multiple times are a carnival barker. And there's loads of magistrates, they all have different reputations and and ymmv on how sadistic they individually are in Luskan. In a later book, when this particular magistrate is brought up again to another magistrate in Luskan, it's clear that the carnival barker thing isn't entirely universal and that he's considered one of the really bad ones, but regardless, they all acknowledge that what he does is legal and "serves a purpose" and they all direct and orchestrate the torture and slaughter of prisoners, and they all admit that many of them are probably innocent. The magistrates, and more importantly, the people in charge of them, maintain the necessity of the system, and the fear it instils to keep troublemakers in line.

One of the more reasonable and intelligent wizards in the series (a guy called Robillard who I can't help but envision as Gale of Waterdeep, because almost everything he does and says makes him sound like Gale of Waterdeep) shocks Drizzt by defending this system of justice very passionately.

Actually, Drizzt's thoughts in general about the Prisoner's Carnival are S-tier Drizzt musings, I love a man who keeps a journal. Likes cats too. Drizzt is lovely.

Drizzt also notes that this is a popular system in human societies specifically. Other races don't go in for it so much, and tend not to participate unless it's as... um... you know... as the prisoners being tortured. I think it's interesting that he mentions that elves in particular (in his experience) are universally disgusted by it. It's also explicitly stated that Baldur's Gate is different, and a much preferrable place to get tried by a magistrate. That isn't in his journal entry though, that's earlier in the novel. A moment of foreshadowing.

The whole world is brutal, but Baldur's Gate is a bit more modern and open to change than other places. That's probably one reason it keeps getting featured and mentioned even though we've barely spent any time there in Drizzt's series so far. It's a bit more relatable a place to actually live in long term than somewhere like Luskan, where you may have to seek out real estate that's far enough away from the square that you're not constantly hearing the death screams of someone being drawn and quartered in front of a cheering crowd. So that's the basics of it, and getting back to Astarion and the backstory that I would personally novelize for him, we have options:

If I'm going to try to fit this into the context that I now have though, it's important to keep in mind that 1) Baldur's Gate is considered one of the "nicer" places to be tried and 2) culturally, elves don't go in for cruelty, especially not as systemic "justice." None of this has to apply to Astarion, but if I'm writing it, I'm not going to ignore this cultural context. At a minimum, I'm going to say that appointing an elf as a magistrate in a city that's known for being more progressively compassionate about their treatment of prisoners was probably pointed on the part of tptb. Baldur's Gate wanted him to set an example for these bloodthirsty humans about mercy and justice and the balance between them. Racism dictates that you don't go to a human for that. They're carnival barkers. If you want a more compassionate magistrate, appoint an elf. And from there, we get to decide whether or not Astarion met their expectations, or if he defied them. Because maybe he was an asshole. Maybe he was just as bad as his human magistrate counterparts. That's not outside the realm of possibility at all, there's an argument to be made that we write him as a counterweight to the stereotype. Astarion is written to be capable of anything, so you can literally go in any direction with his disposition.

But, considering how Cazador rages that he "made" Astarion, and Astarion doesn't even argue with that sentiment. I think it's more likely (and loads sadder) if this unmaking and making included a complete and total overhaul of Astarion entire sense of justice. I actually think the harsh sentiments that Astarion expresses at the tribunal in Ansur's trials are a really good example of the flickers of Cazador and the person he twisted Astarion into, than they would ever be indicative of who he was before getting turned.

That guy's gone, remember?

And if it's not obvious, I'm going in that direction with my fanfic. I'm going to say he actually thought he could help his community. He studied. He got this civil servant position. It was a bit disillusioning. It's better in Baldur's Gate than in other places, but the system itself is cruel, and he's rewarded for being cruel within it. It doesn't even matter that he originally got the job because they hoped he would be a compassionate elf judge amongst bloodthirsty humans, once he's actually in position, it's all about maintaining the status quo. That's what they actually want from him, in spite of their "progressive" leanings.

If anything, he's getting in trouble, and getting noticed by not quite being status quo. A soft-hearted elf, letting his charges get away with all kinds of mischief. I'd write him this way, because I think it then easily follows that Cazador takes note of him and targets him, precisely because he's too merciful. It's annoying.

And, little bit about me, I'm an attorney, and early on, during and right after law school I worked for a few judges.

If Faerûn is anything like the USA I figure that after a few years he has figured out that being a magistrate only gives him a limited amount of discretion and authority over the specific individuals who are brought before him.

It's really legislation that makes a difference and he is specifically forbidden from that. He rules from the bench, and hopes that if he's consistent and fair, and if nothing disastrous results from his rulings, (and if he doesn't get reversed too often, idk if that's a thing in Faerûn but it's a thing in America) then maybe he could eventually influence those who do legislate, but like, that's not his job. And it's going to take a long time because most of it's quite tedious and people don't pay attention unless it's someone they care about standing before him. Nobody cares about the vast majority of these people. His job is to stare at "troublemakers" who have supposedly broken the law, hear witnesses and confessions and denials and lies and decide what the truth is, and decide what's fair.

And it's emotionally heavy work. A lot of people describe being a magistrate as a political position, and that's not incorrect, but there's a valley of difference between Astarion's very hands on job, and what Gortash/Duke Ravenguard do. You are beholden to powerful politicians (like actual politicians) with a lot more influence who figured all this out long before they made the mistake of having ideals or believing in anything, or taking a job in which they would have to a) actually work with people to probable burnout and b) inevitably make a lot of people very angry regardless of what they did.

But, Astarion is still young, he's still got energy, he's not lost himself yet, he thinks he can handle this responsibility and he's wrong.

One day, someone is brought before him. This person is Gur and has supposedly broken the law. Other Gur are upset about the way Astarion ruled. He was way too harsh, or maybe he wasn't.

Quick sidebar: in court, I have watched people literally receive the death sentence and have zero reaction. Same with life w/o parole and other life ruining sentences. In my experience, what triggers an emotional reaction and anger targeted at a judge isn't the severity of the sentence, it's how the severity of the sentence stacks up against their expectations. The defendants (or their families, with proxy outrage) who get really angry, who try to attack the judge, or the ones who are so disruptive that we have to call it and go wait in the hallway while the baliffs calm things down, all have one thing in common: they legitimately thought they were going to just be sent home. They didn't think they were going to be held at all. For that reason, I actually saw a lot more rage from people who had committed minor offenses, because they didn't think what they had done was that big a deal, showed no remorse, ignored their atty, made no effort to express any respect for the law, or any victims, and then when the judge just decides to go with whatever the statute says, in light if zero mitigating factors, the defendant hears "60 days" for the very first time and assumes that the judge just made that up and hates them.

And like, I know it's fiction, and I'm speaking on a very niche experience that most people can't relate to. It's unlikely the writers had anything (let alone realism) in mind at all when they decided to be as vague as possible in the details about a character who embodies "loss" as a concept. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss.

But this sidebar is just to explain why whenever someone says "well he got beat to death for it so his ruling must've been racist and harsh" my knee jerk response is "not necessarily."

And sidebar within the sidebar: if I was going to fully novelize the story, I would actually go in the direction of having the ruling in question be uncommonly fair. I might hint at some racism though—nobody really talks about it below the surface level obvious stuff that's in the game, and part of that is because information about the Gur as a people isn't super accessible. But there is information, and synthesized: racism against the Gur seems pretty standard, especially for an elf who has had it up to here with human bullshit generally. Especially during that time period. He probably didn't have a good opinion of the Gur in life.

But, I have to assume that his animosity towards the Gur that we see in the game was at least affected by the fact that they beat him to death, and then, he spent two centuries as an undead being that they kill on sight with absolutely no justification needed. Like. I don't think it's wild to suggest that. I'm actually very confused by how much people push back on the idea that this could be responsible for his attitude, in part. And that's as far as I have combed through all this so far. Idk how much of it will end up in fic, but it's my personal headcanon now.

I love horror movies. I have watched so many of them it's embarrassing. My letterboxd is embarrassing. I do love several horror movies that feature asshole victims, but as I look at my very favorites, I'm noticing a pattern. I like to feel hurt. I like it when a movie doesn't shy away from dealing out universal, apathetic and disproportionate punishment to everyone. I can't think of anything quite so sad as seeing a perfectly normal, maybe even morally progressive person with their whole life ahead of them, and choosing to unmake them and twist them into a broken puppet in your own image. Sparing/saving no one and nothing in the process. Just make them lose everything, including their entire sense of who they are.

So, I'm going to hurt my own feelings with my Astarion headcanon.

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 8

Summary: An unspoken ceasefire takes place and you struggle with sleeping arrangements.

Words: 2k

CW: as always, this fic is reader falling for captors, but nothing specific in this chapter

You just existed around each other the rest of the day more or less quietly. They treated you like a housemate for the most part and you finally felt like you were settling down. It had been the worst 48 hours of your life and there were only so many high emotional outbursts you could go through without needing some quiet from your thoughts.

When you got out of your frigid shower Kyle said Price had went to pick you up some things. Neither him nor the asshole with the mohawk sitting sipping away at his coffee mentioned the sudden cut off of hot water or how you had screeched about it. Price came back with bags full of clothes and toiletries for you. They were your size and you decided you were not going to get into the fight that you wanted to over the fact that the shampoo, conditioner and soap in the bag was what you had used at home. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he had went to the expensive store in the town where everything was handmade by what you were fairly certain was some sort of witch and somehow managed to pick out the specific products you liked.

It felt nice to be in soft new clothes that fit even if there was a small pang of something at stripping out of Price’s clothes. When you saw the wet spots you bristled and scrubbed at them, wringing out the offending item as best you could before folding it and leaving the bundle of his clothes on the bathroom counter.

You called Dosia a traitor at least 4 times before dinner for how she slunk over to get scratches off of Price. You cooed at her just as many for when Soap tried to pet her and she treated him with complete disdain.

“Ye should have got a dug” he grumbled after another failed attempt to endear himself to your cat.

“What? So you could have a litter mate?” you shot back before going back to coo at your cat.

“Woof!”

Kyle made dinner and you asked if he always cooked (“only when we want something edible” “oi! I’m a braw cook I’ll have ye know!”) before scolding yourself for the umpteenth time for being so casual and curious with them, but once again you just let it go. You could start thinking about how to get out of this situation again tomorrow, you really could not put any more brain power into being angry and pushing them today. It seemed to be an unspoken understanding that they felt a little the same way with nobody really pushing at you or getting into your space.

You weren’t about to look a surprise ceasefire horse in the mouth so you ate dinner, even gave Kyle a quiet thank you for cooking and Price an even quieter one for clearing away the table. There was one glaring issue that you were avoiding thinking about, the small matter of where you were going to sleep. Would they let you take the sofa or where you doomed to wind up in someone’s bed? You didn’t know how you’d fare with the threat to this shaky peace if one of these men nestled under blankets with you and held you the way Johnny had been when you had woken up.

You worried that as tired as your brain was from fighting and plotting and a thousand emotions happening at once today that you wouldn’t even stop them. That you’d take the comfort. And it would just make things so much worse when tomorrow came and you had rested and were ready to push at them again.

It had not occurred to you that there was actually a much worse option until Price told you that you could take Simon’s bed and left you in his room. It was simple but it had touches of the enigmatic man. A cute little crocheted skull on the dresser (had he been gifted it? Bought it himself? Made it?), a thriller book on the bedside table well worn (he must be the type of person to break books spines and dog ear them), a few sets of dumbbells in the corner that were disrespectfully heavy and a photo in a simple frame of him with the two Johns, Kyle and a man you didn’t recognise. If another handsome man walked into this cabin you would lose it, so he damn well better have just been a visitor.

The thing that really sent your heartbeat into overdrive though was right there lovingly pinned to a corkboard on the wall. Drawings. They were clearly from children and they showed their crude versions of him in his gear holding hands with them. These were what was taking pride of place in this simple room, these were what mattered to him.

You gently traced your fingers over one, trying to reconcile the drawing with the man in the closet who had left the mark still throbbing dully on your neck. You paused over a detail you had missed. The little skull sticker on the helmet. It made sense then the little crochet skull, but it also gave you such a vivid flashback that you heard a strangled sort of sound leave your mouth.

You had seen that little skull sticker before, on the man who had saved you. You thought it had been Kyle, but it was Simon. Simon was the one who carried you through the fire and laid you gently on the ground outside, whose eyes you had stared into and thought ‘oh, he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen’ when you realised he was there and real and you were alive. It came flooding back with such force that you had to stumble away from the pictures and sit down.

It was only after a breath that you realised you were sitting on his bed and you flexed your fingers a few times, feeling the softness of the duvet. You wondered what blanket he would be using in the tower. It was boiling during the day but freezing at night, would he be cold? Certainly the sofa wasn't going to provide the same support as this mattress. It probably wouldn't even fit all of him, he'd have to curl in.

You couldn't. You could not sleep in this bed while he was in the cold, uncomfortable and barely getting any sleep at all, tossing and turning before getting up and looking out for any sign of trouble before repeating it again. No amount of telling yourself he was a bad person was going to let you do that with those kids drawings staring down at you.

So you stood, straightened out the duvet, wrapped yourself in the throw that had been draped over the dresser and curled up on the floor.

---

Price was on wake up duty. They had discussed sending Gaz since you seemed to trust him the most, but he had argued that in order to get you on side it was him you needed to trust the most. He reluctantly agreed when he thought about it, he was this teams Captain at the end of the day. And you were part of that now, his team.

He also did feel annoyed with himself at how he had dealt with you yesterday. He should have known better than to think it would all be easy and you'd be predictable. At least after a good night's rest he had settled a bit. It was strange how his feelings toward you had changed. They were more intense somehow, maybe a little rougher around the edges and complicated. But he was a problem solver and the way to solve this one was by trying to get on your good side, figuring out who you were when you weren't spitting mad at him.

There was a moment when he opened the door that he felt his heart stop. The bed was empty. And then he heard a soft sigh of discomfort and followed it to see you shivering away on the hard floor. It was then that John Price knew he cared about you. Not the you he had made up in his head, the you that had annoyed the life out of him yesterday and kept fighting him on every little thing. He hated seeing you almost whimper in your sleep from how cold and uncomfortable you were.

Why the hell hadn't you just slept in the bed? Were you trying to rebel by making him feel awful? Or could you just not stand the thought of sleeping in Simon's… oh. It was Simon's bed, you hadn't wanted to take Simon's bed. You felt guilty. Even through all that rage and exhaustion you felt guilty. Ah fuck, had to go and be a good person despite everything didn't you? You'd win the bet if he was a better man.

Soap and Gaz didn't question him when he emerged with you bundled in his arms still sleeping. It wasn't difficult to tell you hadn't slept well and while they did want to get you into a routine they had all the time in the world, one morning letting you sleep in wouldn't ruin everything.

He had considered just putting you into Simon's bed, but somehow that felt cruel. Instead he carried you to his room. Warmer than Simon's, more cluttered with years of knick knacks. It had a set of wingbacks with a table between that held a bottle of whiskey and some cigars. Price's room was where his boys could come for refuge if they needed someone to just listen.

You roused a little when he gently manoeuvred you under the blankets, instantly letting out a little sound of panic and trying to get up.

“Steady on little bird, it's my bed. Not making you sleep in Simon's. That a girl, go back to sleep” he said, as gentle as he could manage.

“I don't…” you murmured, not sure what you wanted to say.

You needed to talk to someone, you needed to get it off your chest, but there was nobody here but your captors. Nobody in this room with you but their Captain whose soft coaxing had made you relax despite yourself. It was pathetic and you knew that, but somewhere in the exhaustion it almost felt like this was a dream. Like what you said here didn't count in the real world.

“He's a good man isn't he? I could tell, from his room.”

Price hated how torn up you sounded, as if the idea of any of them being good men was breaking your heart. And while he wouldn't go as far as to call himself one, he knew with a fierce certainty that his team were the best of men. Would it hurt you to keep discovering that? Would it help you want to stay?

“Simon Riley is a good man” he confirmed, sitting himself on the edge of the bed and sighing as he ran a hand over your hair, soothing. “But he was rough with you for no good reason little bird, even the actions of good men have consequences. It isn't your fault he isn't here.”

Christ he should be trying to guilt you instead of this. He should be manipulating you into begging him to let Simon off of 24 hour watch. Twisting things until you loved them. He thought when they first decided to keep you that it would come easy. He never knew you'd be so hard to hurt.

You only made a soft noise in acknowledgement. You felt bone tired, completely wrung dry. You just couldn't find that fire within you right now that you had planned on stoking when you woke up. It wasn't fair for them to be good, for them to show you kindness. For them to be human.

You thought maybe a bit more sleep would help as you drifted off with John's hand petting your hair. That was what you needed, some proper sleep in a proper bed and then you could find that fight again. You hoped.

[peaterookie]

Trials and Tribulations of Scanning: Lupin III Manga

Hi!

It's been a while since I've made a proper Lupin essay, and this one is going to be a bit different from all the ones I've done too.

Throughout the years in the manga community, I've gotten very accustomed to the process of scanning and archiving this series, it's something that I sincerely do enjoy doing so I wanna just dedicate a post talking about it and also bring attention a huge project of mine.

Disclaimer that this isn't really gonna be a comphrehensive history with a bunch of details about the scanning process done on the series before I entered the fandom, I just wanna talk about certain parts that I think are worth writing and my experiences doing it myself.

Okay this intro's gotten long enough let's get started.

Let's talk about the tokyopop scans of the OG manga and HOW SHIT IT IS.

Oh poor og manga... you were doomed from the start from the moment you were uploaded publically. Because who the hell is going to want to read something that looks like this???

An important step when I scan my pages is cleaning, it is the process where you take the initial scans, which I call raws, and polish them to make it prettier. When you see the scans of the og manga, it is very very clear that the person did not bother to clean any of these at all.

The coloration of the pages (which should not have been there at all if they decided to scan in grayscale) gives it an unpleasant old vibe, and should have been editted to turn into something more black and white.

I honestly do not understand why anyone would just leave a page this bad and assume that people would be fine reading something that looks like this. I am very convinced that the quality detered some people from checking the manga out any further because at its worst, it's unreadable and the details of the art is hard to decipher.

It's very easy too!! I can easily take this place and edit it on my phone to turn it into...

This!

Ain't that much better already. and it only took me a minute to do just that, imagine just how better the rest of the scans would've been if the person gave a bit more effort to clean their pages?

One of the many things i've learned is that when you do something for a community, whatever you put out might stay there forever and become a permanent impact on the people using your product, so it's important to make it look good!!!

What is good about the OG manga + new adventures though is that there exists high quality scans of it, just in japanese. So while there is still no good scans of the english version, people can always find a better alternative elsewhere.

Shin Lupin III though... is a different story.

(insert cool transition here or something)

Here is what I really wanted to talk about.

Shin Lupin III, literally. has. no. good scans. It's all shit. You get trash or garbage and that is it.

"But Peater! What about the Tokyopop scans! They're pretty good right?"

You're absolutely correct! Until you realize that Tokyopop did not fully translate Shin Lupin III, leaving approximately 100 chapters worth of manga in horrible quality 😂😂😂

Those missing parts are the ultimate problem, and the guy that is now in charge of translating the rest of Shin Lupin, Oranges, does not do the scanning justice (the one above.)

I do not know what kind of source he uses, but it is absolute horseshit, and again, he doesn't seem to bother with editting them to make them look better. I'll just provide more examples, to really emphasize how horrible it looks. You can barely see what's going on with some of them.

Someone pointed a flashlight while scanning this

(Editor's Note: So it seems like Oranges did the bare minimum and fixed the scans on the San Francisco arc so he is slightly forgiven)

And what the Japanese scans? Hahaha, it gets worse.

From an simple look at it, you might be tricked into thinking that this is a good scan! has nice lighting, black ink, BUT THIS IS WHERE YOU'RE WRONG.

Look closer. The lineart is melding into each other, the cross hatching is blurred, the kanji is barely readable.

This is the works of an Al upscaling tool.

AND THEY DID THIS, FOR EVERY SINGLE PAGE! THEY LURE YOU INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY LIKE "omg!! san francisco scans!!" AND THIS IS WHEN THEY TRAP YOU INTO A MELTING POT OF AI SHIT TO NEVER BE ABLE TO HAVE GOOD SHIN LUPIN SCANS EVER AGAIN AND AM SICK OF IT!$_+$(2!(_(!_(+7(0#+#?@!

And so that's why I'm going to be doing something about it!

My project for this year is to rescan Shin Lupin III in higher quality. No AI upscaling involved, everything will be done by hand. Here are the previous panels again but scanned by me!!

See the differences now!! This is what happens when someone puts effort on their scans!! wowwwww

I've already finished scanning the raws for every single page, and now it is only time to clean them.

When will I finish this? I can't tell you, but I promise that it will be done and released before the year ends. I hope you guys are looking forward to this!!

Darn, I actually didn't get to talk much about my process and how i got into scanning huh? Maybe some other time if people are interested.

But for now, goodbye, and thanks for reading!!

[honeylemonteaasblog]

Soulmates <3

summary: Yoongi and our MC, Hani, meeting for the first time.

pairing: Yoongi x Reader

genre: soulmates, fluff

word count: 3.7 k

warning: fluff, almost sickeningly sweet, boyfriend Namjoon

Yeah, soulmates existed but you never thought you would find your soulmate.

It’s not because you were a complete pessimist, it’s just that most people don’t. Historians talked about a time where everyone meet their soulmate. It was like a rite of passage to meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Then, it was like the world just… moved on. We shifted away from this romanticized idea of love. We prioritized money, productivity, and success. But the problem was that not everyone can agree on how to define success.

As a teenager, school became your whole life. Then, when you finally did graduate, work became your whole life. There was this need to progress in life at the fastest pace possible. And if you didn’t complete everything how everyone else wanted, then you were failing. If you didn’t do well in school, go to a good university, and land a well paying job where you could work for the rest of your life, then you weren’t successful. It didn’t matter what you accomplished. It didn't matter how you felt about any of it.

In this new world that demanded toxic productivity and limited happiness, there was no room for soulmates. Not in the traditional way anyways. Some people still found their soulmates. But the magic of it all wore off. It didn’t seem special anymore. If anything, people who found their soulmates were lucky because of the convenience of it all. You found the one, so you could stop pretending to care about love.

Historians describe soulmates as a magic that can’t be contained. An all consuming feeling that can’t be fully described because it’s too many positive things all at the same time.

Personally, you think that no one can describe soulmates because that’s part of the magic that has worn off. It’s just another causality caught in the cross fire. The very idea of soulmates is slipping away. You wonder how long it will be until everyone forgets there were soulmates to begin with. It’s already started.

“Please… It’ll be fun. I promise” Minji is begging you to go to dinner with her friends. It’s not that you don’t want to go or don’t believe her. You do want to met her friends and boyfriend, Namjoon. It’s just that you don’t really like meeting new people. Well, you don’t really like social gatherings, or people for that matter, in the first place. You prefer a night in with a good book and some music.

But you had been dodging Minji’s attempts for a whole group hang out for over a month now and she was getting desperate. You were starting to feel bad. And it was a Friday night so you didn’t have classes in the morning. Plus she was almost in tears and looking up at you with puppy eyes. Really, you were doomed from the start.

“Just dinner.” You don’t think she was listening anymore, too busy nodding happily as she texted her boyfriend about the slight change of plans. She said that there were already going to be nine people, so adding another person last minute would be completely fine. She always complained that she was in desperate need of more women in their hangouts. It was only Minji and Sieun, Hoseok’s girlfriend.

She always called them “the boys.” Even though her boyfriend was one of them, he was simply lumped in with the rest of them. It always made you laugh how she talked about them as if they were one singular unit. They all seemed to exist together. It made you smile, but also you were a little nervous because you had no idea what to expect. You had no idea who they were. You hadn’t even met Namjoon yet. Nor did you know much about him, despite being friends with Minji for so long. All you did know was that they all go to Seoul’s National University too. But it was a big school, so even that didn’t mean much.

You didn’t even know their names, well, only Namjoon and Hoseok.

Needless to say, you were nervous on your way to dinner. You and Minji were taking the bus over to the restaurant together. You sat quietly, wondering what Minji’s reaction would be if you decided to fake an illness to get out of dinner. She would realize what you were doing, but you wonder if she might let you off the hook if she could tell how hard you were trying. Minji was talking to you a little, but mostly to herself. She was going on and on about how much the boys were going to love you. That they needed someone like you in their friend group.

That is, someone smart. Apparently the boys were a little dumb. Don’t get it wrong, they were smart, they just were also ‘the boys.’ You took her word for it because you didn’t really know what that meant. But you also did understand that boys tended to be a particular kind of dumb smart. So you wouldn’t put it past the seven men to be both smart and dumb at the same time. In fact, they probably were most of the time.

She also gave you a brief introduction of each of them so you didn’t have to stress about trying to figure it all out while you were eating.

The oldest Seokjin had graduated last year with a business degree and worked at a start up while also working as a TA at the university.

Then, Yoongi who also graduated with a business degree with Seokjin last year, but decided to double major. So, he is finishing a music production degree.

Namjoon’s a literature major, focusing on classics. It makes you smile because it makes sense why Namjoon and Minji would get along. You can already tell that you are going to like her boyfriend.

Hoseok’s a senior and Jimin’s a junior, but they are both majoring in dance. Their dream is to a run a studio together. It’s honestly pretty heartwarming.

Then Taehyung, who is studying photography. Apparently he has a couple minors because he could never make up his mind about what to study and now has all of these extra credits and hobbies that he doesn’t know what to do with.

Finally, the maknae, Jungkook who apparently is your stereotypical ‘gym bro.’ That in itself makes you a little nervous. But he is studying graphic design instead of getting a business degree so it gives you hope. Minji says that Jungkook is a literal bunny, whatever that means.

Sieun greets you both at the entrance to the restaurant, having just gotten there herself. You had meet Sieun a few times when she’d eat lunch with you and Minji sometimes. She’s like a little ray of sunshine. Honestly, it’s adorable. You found yourself wanting to squish her checks together all the time.

“I’m so glad you are here.” Sieun, ever the princess, said brightly. “There are too many men, we need more women in the group.” She sighed hopelessly. Minji was quick to voice her agreement which made you burst out laughing. You think that you are really going to like this friendship. And its always great to have girl friends. There is something special about it.

It was a higher end KBBQ restaurant. So even though you could tell it was more expensive you didn’t feel underdressed. It felt homey which helped you relax a little but you were nervous walking to the table. You could see seven men sitting at a table in the back. It was not completely private, but farther in the back offering some privacy for your large group.

You assume that Namjoon was the first to see you because a tall man jumped up from his seat to hurry over and wrap Minji in a hug. Despite his large frame, you could already tell he was a teddy bear. You think you already like him, but had to put on the front of a protective best friend. Once he let go of Minji he turned to greet you, bowing politely.

“Haneul, right?” You nod, returning his bow. It felt pretty formal but you appreciated the gesture. You think Minji found a good man. “Hani is fine.” You say diplomatically while Minji stifles a laugh beside you, amused by your antics. Like she would be any different.

You turn towards the other men, intending to offer each a smile and expecting an awkward introduction back. But after the first awkward smile, you freeze. A man is looking back at you. He has cat-like eyes and dark hair. He looks so pretty. You aren’t sure how else to describe him, just pretty. You think that your brain might be malfunctioning a little because you aren’t able to form any words. Honestly, the man isn’t doing much better. He also is just staring back at you, mouth slightly agape.

Its only after the initial shock that you realize why you both are frozen. You are soulmates. You had never expected to meet your soulmate. You hadn’t planned for this. Judging by his expression, you don’t think he had either. No one does anymore. So, you aren’t completely sure how to react. You don’t know what is expected of soulmates the first time they meet each other.

Everyone else is watching the two of you in confusion, but neither of you even realize because you are both too preoccupied with just staring at each other. You think you could be happy staring into his eyes forever.

“You’re my soulmate.” The man finds his voice before you do. He states it so matter of factly, his voice void of emotions. Part of you understands his tone, you relate to his tone. But the other part of you cringes. Is it bad to wish that his voice held more emotion? Is it bad to wish that he cared?

You nod, suddenly unsure of yourself. God, you want the ground to swallow you whole. Why had you let Minji convince you to meet her friends. You could be at home right now instead of in the restaurant meeting your soulmate.

It’s not that you have something against soulmates or you don’t want a soulmate at all. It’s just that you don’t know what is expected of a soulmate. You didn’t expect to meet your soulmate so you hadn’t considered what you did want. Obviously, you are an overthinker. You like to have everything planned out before you need to make a decision. You don’t like surprises because it makes you feel out of control. This is a surprise and, right now, you definitely feel out of control.

You can feel your eyes begin to fill with tears. You play with your sleeves behind your back to try to stop your hands from shaking but it isn’t working because you can still feel them shake. You blink a few times to make sure you don’t start crying. God, you really don’t want to cry; that would be a mess. How would you even explain why you are crying to your soulmate. That is, if they even wanted to know in the first place. You are vaguely aware of just how much you are overthinking right now, but can’t seem to stop yourself.

Your soulmate’s words broke everyone else out of their spell. The man next to your soulmate pushed the man towards the end of the booth, muttering something about how he has to do something and how you look scared.

You don’t look scared. Right?

Your soulmate stands up and takes a hesitant step towards you. When you don’t move he approaches cautiously. “I’m Yoongi.” “Haneul” Your voice shakes which contrasts Yoongi’s voice which stays steady despite the emotion now on his face. You can see him struggling to say something, but you don’t know how to read his emotions. They are so clearly on his face, but its difficult to decipher. Maybe its the tears clouding your vision. You wonder if Yoongi even knows what he, himself, is feeling.

“Haneul” Yoongi repeats. You don’t think he was actually talking to you so you don’t respond. You don’t even know what you would say to him. You nod. “Hani” You end up saying. “Everyone calls me Hani” You clarify when he doesn’t speak. You open your mouth to say something else. What exactly? You aren’t sure. But Yoongi beats you to it when he repeats your name. Again. He smiles and for the first time. You feel butterflies, the good kind.

“Why don’t you two eat together? We can meet later.” The man who had ushered Yoongi to stand up earlier says with a smile. It’s a nice smile. It makes you feel like he cares about you. Minji really does have good friends. You glance at Minji and she smiles and nods encouragingly. She looks like she might burst with energy. Minji is slightly bouncing up and down like a toddler that ate too much candy. Namjoon is standing next to her. He is looking between Minji and you like he might need to step in and hold Minji back from hugging you.

You look at Yoongi who is looking at you with hopeful eyes. It’s the first emotion you can easily read. You don’t think you would be able to turn him down when he is looking at you like that, even if you didn’t want to eat with him. You nod quickly which makes him smile even wider. His smile is this gummy smile that makes your heart clench. You decide that you love his smile.

You and Yoongi move over to another booth for some privacy. You are just far enough away that the others won’t be able to hear you, but they still have a clear view which makes you shift nervously. You can tell that all of them are watching you and Yoongi carefully. Yoongi seems calm which is good because you are anything but calm. You need some calm. Maybe this whole soulmate thing had some merit to it. Maybe Yoongi will be able to balance you out. The thought makes you a little dizzy. If Yoongi balances you out by giving you some peace to your racing mind, you hope that you can balance him out in some way too.

You send him a shy smile, trying to see what Yoongi could possibly need help balancing out. He blushes. Like he actually blushes.

You knew the myth behind soulmates. It was said that your soulmate was your other half. They were like your missing puzzle piece. That they completed you. Obviously it was a nice thought. Doesn’t everyone want to meet their person? Someone who just completes you and makes all the worries go away. So of course soulmates sound pretty good. But the problem is that soulmates don’t promise anything. Back when soulmates were really popular, people would find their soulmate and fall in love, but still get their heart broken. Love between soulmates isn’t set in stone, you still need to put effort into your relationship.

Relationships are never easy, even with the perfect person, your other half. Your soulmate.

You think it is naive for people to think that soulmates would fix that. But for most, they want an easy love. They want all the perks of being in a relationship without the work. So the magic of soulmates began to fade. Simply people stopped valuing relationships and instead wanted ease, but nothing in life is easy, especially the things worth fighting for. And you can already tell that Yoongi is worth fighting for.

“Here” Yoongi begins to place cooked meat into your bowl of rice. You had been so caught up in your own head that you hadn’t even realized he had been grilling meat. You send him a shy smile that makes his eyes light up. You feel satisfied. You have always cared about people and put so much into making other people happy, but there is something special about making Yoongi happy.

“I never thought I’d meet my soulmate.” He leans back in his chair, giving you his full attention. In the best way possible, it makes you really nervous. There is something so unique about being watched by Yoongi. It is like he is truly seeing you and you aren’t sure you have ever felt so vulnerable with anyone. “I gave up.” You admit in a soft voice that makes Yoongi melt. You see it in the way that his eyes soften.

“People used to plan their lives around soulmates and now people give up their soulmates for whatever life they already have. It's like they are so scared of disappointment that they won't let themselves wish for the mere possibility of something better.” Yoongi’s voice is really nice. You wonder if he would consider recording an audiobook. He has the voice for it. “But… I’ve always dreamed of meeting my soulmate.” Yoongi’s confession makes your eyes snap up to his. A part of you wants to hide, worrying that you won’t be able to meet his expectations. On the other hand, the look of kindness in his eyes makes you think that he may just be a kind man. So, you find yourself wanting to trust him.

“Relationships aren’t easy. Soulmates don't guarantee anything.” You voice shakes a little bit and you hope Yoongi doesn’t realize but based on how closely he is watching your face you bet he does. He nods quickly.

“You jumped to relationship quickly” His eyes look playful as he watches you, so you know that he is teasing you. Briefly, you realize that he is trying to make you feel more comfortable. It’s working. “Oh? No relationship is fine for me too.” You keep your voice light so he knows that your teasing him and not serious. You are also fighting a smile that you know he can see.

Yoongi fights off his own smile as he watches your eyes shine. You look happy and it makes him happy. “Wait.” His voice comes out strained and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Relationship sounds good. Great actually.” He talks quickly as he watched you smile as his words. God, he would do anything to keep that smile on your face.

You breakout into a fit of giggles and it has him stopping. It’s like Yoongi’s whole world stops in that moment. He finally understands what all the historians are talking about. He doesn’t know how he thought that he was happy before because it’s in this moment that he realizes he will never be happy again if you aren’t in his life. He doesn’t know how he could go back to his normal life if he you left him. It is in this exact moment that Yoongi realizes that despite just meeting you, he would do anything for you.

He is already writing a album in his head. He wonders if it would be to bold to title it “Hani.”

“Relationship sounds good to me too.” Your voice is shy and it makes Yoongi want to wrap you in his arms and shield you from everything that could ever hurt you. You are too precious for this world.

The others watch the two of you from their table. They aren’t able to hear anything, but they don’t need to because they can see the big smiles on both of your faces. Neither of you have stopped smiling since you sat down together. “I’ve never seen Yoongi look like that” Jin states. The others simply nod, keeping their eyes on you and Yoongi. They don't want to blink and miss a part of your love story.

“They’re already in love.” Minji hasn’t stopped smiling since she heard the word soulmate. Minji has always loved the idea of soulmates. While she and Namjoon have been in a relationship for years now and she is absolutely in love with him, she has always loved the idea of soulmates. The idea that there is someone else out there that is meant for you. Someone that is your other half. Out of the two best friends, Minji is the romantic.

So now that you and Yoongi are soulmates, Minji is ready to live out her dreams of seeing soulmates fall in love. Many best friends might be jealous, but Minji loves you so much. She also knows Yoongi.

Unlike most people, Yoongi has always held out hope that he would find his soulmate. He has a file on his laptop of songs dedicated to his soulmate and love of his life. He hadn’t even met you yet and he was already in love. Minji knows that Yoongi is going to love you in the best way that he can. He is going to pour everything into your relationship. He would do anything to make you happy. To make you smile. To protect you.

Minji is overwhelmed with happiness. She feels so lucky that she gets to witness you be loved by someone like Yoongi. Minji also knows that while you are scared of love, you give everything you have to your relationships too. You and Yoongi are alike in that way.

You don’t have many friends, a fact that you aren’t ashamed to admit. You don’t have many friends because you value friendship so much more than most people. When you commit to a relationship, platonic or romantic, you give everything to it in order to maintain it. You understand how much work it takes to maintain a relationship, so when you commit you hold yourself to a high bar.

Minji isn’t sure if there is anyone better out their for either of you, you both seem to fit together perfectly. But that is the whole idea of soulmates, right? That you complement each other completely. She wipes a tear from her eye which catches Namjoon’s attention. Ever the attentive boyfriend. He reaches over to grab Minji’s hand, knowing that quiet reassurance goes a long way.

“I’m so happy that I get to witness their love.” Minji’s voice holds so much emotion in it. Namjoon smiles at his emotional girlfriend. He is so in love with her, its almost overwhelming to look at her.

“He is going to love her so much.” Minji smiles back at Namjoon.

“He already does.”

[olderthannetfic]

About the "European" fairytale thing, non-white cultural stories, and "Eurocentrism." To start off, keep in mind that I mean the specific story that's told, NOT the visuals. So if you took the stories themselves, wrote them down as a book with no pictures. LONG SUBMISSION

I honestly feel like it's a bit weird to claim that the Disney movies are "Eurocentric" because none of the stories have anything to do with the actual European version of the fairytales. If they hadn't been specifically drawn to look like that, and you only had a written version by Disney, you could probably argue they're just a bastardisation of any culture where a version of them exists.

If you know the "real" fairytales from Europe, they've got almost nothing to do with what Disney made. You could take any cultural equivalent to a Disney movie and claim it's a "clean washed" and American values version of it, and it "just so happens" they chose a Pseudo European aesthetic, and not even that well. <- That last part is my opinion.

I think Cinderella was used as an example of a story that has an equivalent in Vietnamese culture, the fairytale of Tam and Cam. You could take the Disney version basically the exact way it's written, and put a different coat of paint on it, and it's be just as accurate to any other cultural version: Not accurate at all. There are several versions of the Cinderella story in Europe alone, the German one is different from the French one, and none of them are like the Disney version. In one of the version I've read the gifts and dresses come from a tree from the mother's grave, and at the evil stepsisters cut their feet to fit in the shoe, which the doves tell the prince.

Beauty and the beast is the same. The Disney version isn't the "European" version, it's vaguely based on a fairy tale that also exists across a few countries. If we go European, there's version with a singing tree, a version with a singing bird, there's also a Scandinavian story where a girl is forced to marry a bear, who turns into a human at night. But there are also stories of the same make in Asia and Africa.

It's also one of the reasons I'm both annoyed with both sides bitching about the Disney remakes. On one side, these movies aren't even the "European" fairytales, they've always been a completely American versions of a story that they vaguely took inspiration from the European versions but basically removed 80-90% of the actual European key elements, where the base story also exists in other cultures. With a pseudo historical European aesthetic, which was heavily based on the "current trends" of the years they were made in, example Snow Whites being based on the late 1930's fashion, same with Aladdin, Jasmine being based on the 90's. These aren't "White European" fairytales, they're "Western American" fairytales. If you actually wanted a real European fairy tales, you could just check out European productions or even the books. The other side, who're constantly saying that its a win for diversity or that it "makes the most sense for visibility" or how it's a win for POC fairytales: The remakes still heavily feature some of the pseudo European inspirations, and it's still a shit cash grab. It wouldn't take Disney much extra work if they actually just straight up adapted the story with a different aesthetic since they already don't give a shit about accuracy. You could literally still keep the Western American story they wrote, but could use setting that pseudo African, Asian, LatAm or whatever to tell the story, which are more catered to American born people. (Not like the piss poor 2020 Mulan, at least the 98 seemed passionate and wanting to tell a good story despite being inaccurate. Kinda like all their old movies, inaccurate but at least passionate abt it.) Making shitty poorly redone live action movies isn't a step in the direction for diversity, it's a step in the "Let's throw POC actors to the wolves, and put them in movies doomed to fail." There are thousand options. It also comes across cheap because you're basically boiling down POC, especially American POC entertainment to "rotten leftovers from much more popular white lead fairy tale movies." Great, the first forage for people into big production "POC in fairy tales" are low value Disney trash, with the constant visual reminder that they have to attach themselves to "European" stories. <- Even if it's pseudo European, most people don't know that and will just view it as "European" period.

--

If we want to talk about cultures dominating so much that they warp the entire framework of how we think...

What is a "fairy tale"?

Why does this exist as a category?

--

One of the problems people run into when they try to be more inclusive in this sphere is that while every place has folktales, and many of those do have animal husbands or other common elements that are found in the core "fairy tales" the West knows, they don't have a specific category of tale with the same boundaries.

I honestly think a big part of the reason for rehashing the same tiny core of tales is that it's hard to define what a new entry into the canon would have to look like.

If it's basically a Beauty and the Beast variant, okay, but what if it isn't? And even if it does have some animal husband aspects, what if the actual point of the story in its original context is completely different.

Very quickly, one ends up at that Joseph Campbell place of thinking everything is a Jesus metaphor and all mythologies are basically the same.

[chickenparm]

live reaction (Wriothesley/f!Reader) pt 1

this is a continuation of this fic(livestream), though it's not necessary to really read that one. please be mindful that the reader does have gendered parts in this one in comparison to the previous entry.

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AO3 Link

Next Part

Wriothesley/f!Reader 3,279 Words - NSFW (voyeurism, mutual masturbation, mild pining, dirty talk, pet names used: good girl, praise kink, consensual all the way through)

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The answer to your sentencing doesn’t come. 

No guards come to find you by bursting into your cell or accosting you in the production zone. No one even looks at you sideways, like you’ve done something as heinous as spy on the Duke having some alone time. In fact, a few days afterward, you almost wonder if it really happened at all. 

An extra long shift at the end of the day makes your mind even more suspicious that you simply dreamed up something like that. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had dreams about Wriothesley and whatever he’s got going on under those layers. So it starts to seem a little more convincing as you punch out and accept your extra pay, then trudge up to your cell. 

The Coupon Cafeteria calls your name, beckoning you as you walk past it. You’ve been insanely lucky with your welfare meals over the past few days, and you’re wondering when that luck is going to run out. Probably tonight, if the weird sensation of impending doom is anything to go off of. 

So you bypass it altogether, deciding to just go to bed hungry. Maybe that will reset things, you think. 

The timing of your arrival in the Fortress of Meropide was timed rather nicely with some renovations and additions, meaning you got your pick of a large shared bunk room, or a private storage closet with a bed and dresser in it. Of course, you took your hole in the wall and relished in the feeling of shutting the door and enjoying the pitch darkness for a moment. 

The Fortress is always loud. People talking, machines running below, fans pumping air through the building, maintenance banging around in the pipes. This little closet is the closest thing you’ve ever found here to silence, and even then it only muffles the cacophony. 

But that’s fine, it’s better than nothing. Crime doesn’t pay and all that. Opening your eyes and reaching in the dark for a candle and matches, you pause. There, just above your bed, a blinking light of red - and then it shifts to teal. 

And then it moves, just enough to show that it has pivoted on its anchor point. It’s watching you. 

Warily, you light the candle and set it down, staring up at the new installation and wondering what the fuck is going on. This is supposed to be your cell, and it’s explicitly stated in the rules that no prisoner will be watched in the privacy of their dormitory. So why is a camera staring down at you from its position on the ceiling above your bed?

And just as you start to wonder if this is penance for your intrusion on the Duke, the smooth voice of his comes from the camera, just like yours must have through the one in his office. “Good evening. You’re earlier than expected.”

“I uh… skipped dinner.”

The camera whirs a bit, the lens protruding to show that it has zoomed in toward your face. Something about the Duke staring at you from somewhere else and barring you from his expressions feels unsettling and cold - likely how he felt. 

“Oh? Not to your liking?”

“Maybe too much, I’ve been getting a bit too fortunate with my luck of the draw. Didn’t think I should push it.”

The sound of his laughter coming through makes your stomach curl pleasantly. You’ve never had the opportunity to have a conversation with His Grace; there just wasn’t any reason. Honestly, you’re still in the middle of your sentence, so drawing his attention was far too risky for your liking. 

Too bad you watched him jerk off. 

“You think that was good fortune? No, I pulled some strings. Simple enough.” Your mouth falls open as you look up at the camera, sputtering a few times before he interrupts you. “You can go back, it’s not closed yet. I’ll wait.”

He’ll wait. Like he’s sitting on your bed rather than staring at you through the camera. It feels like a trap of some sort, and you swallow before mutely shaking your head and murmuring that you weren’t hungry anymore. The sound he makes through the speaker is undeniably pleased, and you’re starting to wish he actually was here so you could get a glimpse of his expression. 

“Good choice,” he answers, and you avert your eyes to stare at the rumpled bedding and wonder what the actual fuck is happening to you right now. Another dream? It has to be, you must have laid down for a second and passed right out when you got back. 

When you don’t make any sudden movements, the Duke’s voice rings through, a little lower in tone, “Sit down. I think we have some interesting things to talk about, don’t you?”

Like the way you haven’t stopped thinking about the curve of his-

You sit down, head tilted a bit so you can look up at the camera from your seated position beneath it. When you’re as comfortable as you can be - not at all - the Duke graces you with something simple. “How long were you watching?”

“Uh… a couple seconds-”

“Try again. I’ve already pulled the records and can see the access time.”

Shit. Scratching at your chest nervously, you relent, “A few minutes, I think. Gonna be honest, Your Grace, kinda lost track.”

“Yeah, I bet,” and he sounds amused. “You found the only terminal still attached to that camera, it was meant to be deactivated years ago. What luck, right?”

You nod before you realize what you’re doing, then shake your head frantically. Not luck, but a curse, because you’re damned to suffer beneath his watchful eye as he all but interrogates you. And he doesn't even need to be here. 

“I’ve been thinking, you know. What sort of punishment would be acceptable for invading the privacy of the Duke of Meropide?” He trails off, as if mimicking the way he thought about it all. “An extended sentence? Punishment via extra labor? A coupon fine? I’m sure you can guess I was very mad.”

“Was” is the word you cling to, your eyes nervously darting up to the camera. Surely from this angle you must look like a sufficiently cowed child, waiting for him to just tell you to pick one of those punishments like having to choose your own switch from a tree out back. But that never comes, and he continues his little monologue to seal your fate. 

“But then I dug a little deeper, looked at the access logs, and put a few things together that didn’t quite fit before. Like… who exactly it was that was so interested in what I was doing. Six and a half minutes? Hardly an accident at that point.”

No, it really wasn’t, and you’ve been coming to terms with that ever since. That you’re a pervert that snooped on some unsuspecting guy. At the subtle accusation from him, and the overt one toward yourself, your shoulders hunch a bit and your gaze averts to the floor, only for him to say, “Eyes up here, please. We’re not done.”

Lightning-quick, you snap your eyes back up, looking at the unfeeling lens as it remains trained solely on you. Once satisfied, he begins again. “I looked at your file - cute mug shot, by the way - and thought that maybe this was a misunderstanding that can be smoothed over with a little give and take. You took, so you should probably give, right?”

“Sounds fair…” You trail off, leaving out the addendum that wonders what he’s planning on having you give. Must be one of those punishments, you’re certain of it. It’s not as if you have any real belongings, and your credit coupons are essentially worthless to the guy that could technically just print more. 

The Duke’s approval practically leaks from the camera as it zooms in a little more, so much that you’re sure he can see the pores on your face. “I knew you’d be agreeable. Now, it’s a pretty even trade, I don’t intend to have either of us remain in debt toward the other. So go ahead and lay down on the bed.”

Limbs shaking a bit, you mindlessly do as he says, settling on your back and making sure you’re comfortable as you look up at the camera. When you do this all without a single complaint, he hums through the receiver, “Good. You follow directions well, that’ll make this easier for both of us. You won’t have to worry about a thing at all, just do what I ask, alright?”

He’s already asking a lot; blind trust isn’t easy to offer up. But despite your lack of interaction, you know enough about the Duke to convince yourself he’s not going to be malicious about whatever comes next. Still, you’re starting to grow uneasy, and you can’t help but try to assuage it yourself. “What if I… don’t want to? Is there some kind of trouble?”

“Trouble? No, none at all.” Your shoulders relax just as he further soothes you with, “I’m well aware it really was just an accident, and you just liked what you saw. Not gonna fault you for tripping and dropping your mind in the gutter. But… you’ll have fun with this. Promise.”

And his voice curls around those words with such a soft tone that it gives you pause, leaves you blinking widely up at the camera in quiet surprise. Gone is the teasing accusation, and in its place is a conscious effort to calm you instead of make you more uneasy. God, does it do something in your lower stomach that makes you just a little ashamed. 

Wriothesley gives you a beat or two longer to voice that dissent, to tell him to get the camera out of your domicile. But it doesn’t come, and with a little grin in his voice that’s murmured through the camera, he says, “That’s my girl.”

The camera zooms out enough that you know it picked up the way your thighs pressed together. In the span of only a few moments, it becomes crystal clear what he wants, what he expects, and you wait patiently for him to give you that very first direction to cement the deal. 

It’s not what you expect. A simple question of “Did you like it?” 

Of course you do, but after your nod he stays silent, and it’s obvious he’s fishing for more than just yes or no answers from you. There’s a monologue in your lungs about everything you’ve been feeling about him since the first time you saw him during your initial check-in at the Fortress. Stubbornly, you keep that down, because he didn’t ask for that. 

But the rest? That’s free game. Taking a sharp inhale of chilled air, you give him what he came for. “Yeah, you’re… real pretty when you touch yourself.”

“Pretty?” He sounds incredulous, voice changed slightly in a way that implies he’s moved closer to the receiver. “I don’t think anyone’s used that word to describe me before.”

“Open your ears then, boss, you’ll hear a hell of a lot more than that,” you murmur, biting your tongue in self-punishment for revealing just a little too much. But you continue, diverting his attention elsewhere, “you’ve got a nice cock, too.”

“Keep complimenting me, this might end up a little more one-sided than we agreed on,” he warns, and you almost want to keep going, to damn yourself in favor of really getting under his skin. 

It’s smarter to keep that all to yourself, and instead you admit, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“Mhm, I bet. Saw you almost smash your hand in the press down in the production zone.” It’s said to fluster you, and it works because you realize he’s been watching. That thought has you swallowing hard around the tightness in your throat, your knees pushing together again in a way that you know he’s explicitly aware of. 

“Just thinking about it has you worked up, huh? Can touch yourself if you want, I don’t mind.”

And his angle is made clear, the intent behind all of this is uncovered, and you almost want to laugh. As if he needed this whole contrived situation to watch you touch yourself to the thought of him - he could’ve just asked.

But this is fun, interesting, thrill-inducing in a way that has your fingers shaking as you fiddle with the belt of your pants, your hand slipping inside to be greeted with entirely-expected wetness. Your fingers dip into your cunt, just a cursory pass that’s enough for a visceral slick sound to pass to the camera above. 

A breath comes from the speakers, followed by a “shit”. Rustling comes from his end, the telltale buzz of a zipper being pulled down, before he nearly growls through the mic, “do you know what I did when you stopped watching?”

Broke the camera, threw a few books, accepted his own rage and likely embarrassment? Instead of spouting half-hearted ideas, you shake your head, voice culled with how your fingers stroke idly against yourself, imagining they’re his. Left with space to elaborate, he continues, “I kept going. Sat there embarrassed and angry as I stroked my cock, thinking about someone getting off on it.”

And it’s your turn to murmur an expletive, your eyes falling closed as you press a little harder with your fingertips, circling clumsily as you imagine his face tinged with red as he hunched over his own cock, fucking his fist to completion. 

“Then I pulled your file, saw a cute little thing like you… couldn’t just let that one lie,” His voice is lower, strained as if he’s just as deep in the throes of pleasure as you. How would that voice sound against your neck, twisted in pleasured moans as that pretty cock fucked you open? Your fingers don’t do nearly enough justice, but you curl one inside awkwardly before huffing a bit and beginning to yank your pants off to get better access. 

All of this to the quiet appreciative words through the camera, his eyes still trained on you as you bare your lower half, bending your knees and getting comfortable to give him a show just as good as the one he’d given you inadvertently. As if taunting him, you spread your legs a little more, dip your one hand down to use your fingers to spread yourself open. 

“Oh, you’re cruel.” The camera shifts, zooming in. “Jeeze, you’re soaked. I really did a number on you, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you answer, looking up at the camera despite being well aware your face is not in frame. There's only one thing he’s looking at, now. Uninterested in torturing him further, you begin touching yourself again, smearing your own wetness along your fingers before slipping the middle one inside. 

“Just one?” Wriothesley practically breathes it into the microphone on his end, filling your ears with his question that borders on desperation. 

With a little grin, you ask, “What, think I can handle more?”

“Gonna have to, if you plan on handling me.” It’s not even cocky. He’s right, you’ve seen it. “Do another? For me?”

Your ring finger slips in without any hesitation, no discomfort from the sudden stretch thanks to your own arousal. He’s not even here, not even truly looking at you, and you’re this worked up? Then his words strike you, his implication of giving you more than just some long distance masturbation session through a camera feed. 

The thought of his cock being wrapped up by you rather than his fist already has you dangerously close to finishing this a little too fast. The first real moan leaves you, thin and reedy, and a sound is picked up on his end that’s a dead ringer for what you’ve heard before. The steady, slick sound of his hand on his cock, stroking himself to the sight of you getting off on the memory of him. 

“Wish I could see you,” you plead, your hips shifting as you grind your palm against your clit in time with the motions of your fingers. 

Wriothesley’s voice settles over you with an implicit promise of, “next time, you will. I swear, I’m going to ruin you- mmh!”

You’re painfully aware that you’d let him, that he could split you open and you’d absolutely say thank you the whole way in. Hell, you want to sing his praises now, tell him about how he’s been the sole subject of your lust for the duration of your stay. And beyond that, even when you leave, there’s no way you’re going to forget about him anytime soon. 

But you say none of that, you only whine his title breathlessly and tack on a little plea. For multiple things that go unsaid. He could come down here and get you off himself, fuck you stupid, really subject you to the kind of punishment you’d be happy to receive. To simply just let you cum, even if he wasn’t here to stop you. 

You kind of like that he isn’t, that all you have is his watchful gaze and the knowledge that he’s pleasuring himself to the mere sight of you. Wriothesley doesn’t stop you when it’s clear what you’re asking for, only picks up his own pace and murmurs, “Do it, c’mon. Let me see. I want to know what your face looked like when you were thinking about what you saw.”

The camera zooms out, you’re fully in frame once more, and your face twists in exquisite pleasure at the knowledge he’s looking at you. That the Duke is desperate to cum and it’s all because of the little show you’ve put on as penance for your crime. Your hips lift, tense and desperate, teetering on the edge but not quite there. 

Wriothesley helps you along inadvertently, a low moan coming through from his end that makes your hair stand on end, nearly vibrates your bones and makes your pulse hammer hard and quick as a rabbit, felt down to your fingers that curl against your insides that make you snap. 

In the rushing of your blood in your ears, the world is drowned out beyond the quiet curse of him through the mic before you’re treated to the trembling sound of his orgasm, a few quick groans that trail off into a disbelieving laugh. Like he can’t believe he’d just done this, here, with you. Dazed, you can’t really blame him. It’s hard for you to believe that this still isn’t a dream, either. 

The only sound that fills the small room is your quiet panting, Wriothesley’s soft breathing as he comes down just as slowly as you are. Even the rest of the Fortress seems silent in comparison. Eyes closed, you lounge and think a little too hard about it all. You’re spent enough that it doesn’t feel that awkward but you know it sort of is. What sort of thing do you say after something like this?

Blissfully, you relax further as Wriothesley breaks it first with, “You asleep?” 

And you think about not answering, you really do. About avoiding an undoubtedly weird conversation but feigning little snores, but running away and being a coward was what resulted in all this anyway, so you crack an eye open and mumble a quiet “no”. 

“Make sure you eat in the morning. Don’t skip it,” his voice is tired as he warns you, “and I’ll get the camera out while you’re working.”

“Mhm…”

“Still awake?” No answer, he laughs, “alright, g’night.”

[thekingofwinterblog]

The Problem with Trespasser

So there has been said a lot about the flaws of tresspasser as a finale to Inquisition, as it can basically be divided into two sections.

There is the lore, the character stuff with your companions, and the actual titular trespasser section of the story, which is generally liked.

Then there is the Exalted Council part of the Story which is generally greatly disliked for the way it portrays Arl Teagen as an ungrateful arse, who even though he's in the right that the Inquisition really does need to disband, is such a bitch about it that a player might feel the desire to keeping it intact just to spite him, despite all the reasons that is a terrible idea(Such an organization being doomed to become the templars 2.0 being the single biggest). Not to mention the way it makes Thedas's nations look like they have the memory capacity of a goldfish, given how instrumental the inquisition was in stopping the last massive threat and might be so again against the plenty of obvious threats on the horizon(and sure enough, the stop the Dragon breath terrorist attacks that would have happened with or without them being there).

However, looking at the big picture, i don't think the actual writing of Arl teagen was the problem here.

No the problem is that Arl Teagen and the rest of the world's reaction to the Inquistion is very, very clearly taken from an older draft of this story, where the Inquisitor was far less... An unambiguous force for good, lets say.

The concept art for inquistion tells a story that is very, very different than what we get in game, with a lot more emphasis is put on the inquisitor very obviously being a dick, that is not well liked by anyone around them.

There is also the way said inquisitor could be far, far more pragmatic and morally grey or dark, like here, where the Inquisitor could force the Venatori to serve after defeating them.

Way more emphasis is built on the idea that the Inquisitor is creating a cult of personality around you, personally.

Essentially a dark mirror to the Hero of Ferelden and Galahad's journeys to defeat their own crisis'.

The option of letting celine die was always gonna be a part of the game, but rather than a pragmatic, move of standing aside and let it happen, your companions would have very negative reactions to this choice, with you having to force Blackwall in particular to stand back as he curses you.

And of course, it would all cuminate in the logical endpoint for the herald of andraste, the living embodiment of the Andrastian reformation as you took your place on the sunburst throne, and usher in whatever changes you want.

This outcome... makes perfect sense. Frankly speaking, this is a much more narratively fitting ending for the inquistior, that has a clear climax from where they start.

Of course we all know this didn't actually end up happening. The Inquisitor ended up being the most passive of all the PC's by a wide margin(you could shape them into having a personality, but not one with a true backbone like Hawke and the Warden), and all these very morally dubious options was taken out of the game in favor of a much more morally simple story.

The most evil thing you can do in DAI is to choose the templars over the mages... and rather than being portrayed as the clear evil choice as it should have been(and still been a legitimate and pragmatic option for you to take) there is instead attempts at making it more nuanced.

Other than that, you don't have the kind of options that the Warden had, and even hawke did(like selling Fenris into slavery), to be a dick.

With all this in mind, it's blatently obvious why Teagen and the world is so damn afraid of the Inquisition.

Because this part of the story was written from before this change in the direction of the game, and was never updated to fit the final product.

If the original vision of the game had to to pass, Teagen's extreme reactions to the Inquistion would have been far, far more understandable, and in it's own way a way of calling the player out on their bullshit.

However, the final product just makes it appear he's way overreacting, rather than maybe questioning that maybe Teagen is right, maybe it is time to end this inquisition for the good of all.

Its one of the biggest problem with what is otherwise a very good epilogue to Dragon Age Inquisition.

[jupiter--dream]

Heyyyy friend! can you tell me about your favorite Dream headcanons please? :3

OMG OMG OMG OMG HAIIII HAI HAI

GOD GOD GOD YES YES YES!! I GET TO TALK ABOUT MY SILLY HEADCANONS!! (spoiler alert: they're not that silly, I love to watch Dream suffer in a blorbo way) Gonna put this under a read more cause holy damn it's getting long-

Before we start, I think it's kinda obvious at this point, considering I always use they/them for Dream, that I heavily headcanon them to be Non-binary; it makes a lot of sense to me! also to list off the self-indulgent headcanons, definitely AuDHD. Like Ink. Yeah. They're both ND as HELL, and also, since I LOVE it when people think of the sanses as having their creators' nationality + accent + knowing their languages; for me Dream's spanish, which is great cause I am spanish too! and I love Dream :3

(and also bc I think it's cute that both Cross and the twins can speak spanish following that headcanon, like they can gossip in secret teehee :3)

Now, to start, well, well, well, well... I feel like people don't play enough with the fact that Dream and Nightmare are basically just energy; like, Nightmare does use his appearance and properties to kinda scare people but he's also not the same NM under the tree, so it changes, but Dream tho!!

I wrote a oneshot once on AO3 where Dream's like very excited over very mundane technology for us, and Cross is the one to kinda explain to them how that works (and NM too, it was a wholesome platonic fic with Cross bonding with the twins), while Cross also takes note of all the very... magical qualities the twins have, fae-like even. It's kinda well-known that Core and Dream are good friends but for me, part of why they connect well is bc they're both in that strange cusp of "neither monster nor human; knowing a lot about this world but still struggling to connect with it on an organic level", bc of Dream's knowledge on the balance and energies and Core's--- whole thing.

Also, it is canon that Dream has a fear of owls bc they can turn their heads 180º and they have big eyes so Dream finds it spooky that they can always look at you, and I can't confirm if this is "100% canon" but I've been told that Dream's claustrophobic as well. Now, other things that I'd say would be hard triggers for Dream, well, people say apples could trigger them but personally? I think apples must be nostalgic to Dream, both bc Nightmare and also bc they represent their mom; I'd say Dream just gets rather extreme nostalgia around apples, probably not fond of ACTUALLY eating them tho lmao

Personally, I'd like to expand on the claustrophobia thing bc of course it'd remind them of their time as a statue, the small space with no way of connecting with the outside, that'd spook them, but I wanna expand it to them getting extremely anxious whenever they can't move in any way; so like, they heal fast bc of their healing abilities and durability but if they were to, idk, break a bone and need to lay in bed for a couple hours, that'd get them very very anxious. And that comes from both the statue and also a huge huge huge need to be "useful" and "productive". Dream was also abused before NM's corruption but their abuse was more like. Being forced to please the villagers and so and so; like, feeling less like themself and more like a tool to others.

But yeah, also while I said that apples wouldn't be a trigger in the sense of making them panic, fire surely is, since it burned the tree down and is very connected to the day of NM's corruption. Basically, I do think that they panic in a major way whenever there's a lot of fire around or something really smells like burning (so imagine the situation whenever Ink tries to cook something and forgets about it later smh) like, those memories of the Day Of Doom would come back FAST.

Also, going back on that time as a statue thing, I've written posts about this before but like, fanfics often end up describing Dream as having "perfect pearly white bones" and like, probably not!! my guy spent 493 years as a statue! stone chips and erodes! their bones probably have small flaws! nothing major, but they're probably imperfect like that!!

This is getting so long, I'm so sorry 😭, I'll just list off some other miscellaneous headcanons that don't need that much more explanation: Dream, again, has AuDHD, but also AvPD (since that includes a LOT of people-pleasing and self-deprecation); definitely a workaholic if I've ever seen one. Dream's canonically demi-aro and ace + implied to be pan (as in, said to not care about the gender of their partner/s, y'know) and I kinda share that but my self-indulgent side wants them to be ominsexual like me (in practice, they're still mspec, all good all good), I headcanon them super duper heavily to be non-binary, like, their gender isn't just "blank", but it's just nothing remotely CLOSE to "man" or "woman". I headcanon them to use they/them and ae/aer :3

And. Oh dear. Oh wow. That's a huge ramble ashjgbsjdfh!! but I mean, you did ask ME, The Dream Guy, to talk about Dream The Guy, so like, yyyyyyup yup yup. But still, I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SUCH A LONG POST 😭😭😭😭😭😭

My other headcanons end up being so self-indulgent and "ooc"-ish (smh they make sense in the context of them being other au's) that I didn't feel justified putting them in here cause they're not that justified either, some of my headcanons are just so random, like my headcanon that Killer plays the violin. Why? who knows!! not me!! I have no proof!! but!!

[bonebabbles]

re: the tags on the post you just reblogged; would genuinely Love to hear your take on the themes of homestuck. because so many of its themes are at odds with each other and the reader that it truly does become an ouroboros by the end. and that’s fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time

I really can't phrase it better than "eats itself alive by the end," honestly. Once the Beta Kids scratch their session, you can feel how tired and frustrated the author is. It's like he starts hating his own work and how massively it blew up, when he never planned for it to be a project that lasted so long.

And thus it feels like he starts turning on his work's own themes.

Sburb (the game) was abusive and traumatic, but seemed to be trying to make the kids ""grow"" by some unknown philosophy. Figuring out what Sburb (or its creators) were trying to accomplish was a theme.

Only for the author to get frustrated at the idea of there BEING such a motive, seeming to suddenly pivot to Sburb just being a universe-generating mechanism

The theme about motives, being "pawns" in a greater game and uncovering the mystery, thinking critically about authority figures including the GAME ITSELF is unceremoniously discarded for a "Nothing matters actually" conclusion

Another theme was change and growing up, dealing with your mistakes as you make them. How even in a world with time travel, trying to use metaphysical shennanigans to avoid your fuckups just backfires. Eventually you have to face the music, and you'll be better off for it.

But then the author becomes brutishly cynical. The main casts' worst traits eat them alive on the trip to the new session, we learn the Beta trolls ruined their own playthrough and now painfully slog through their afterlives, the Alpha kids are aimless and trapped in a doomed session.

The theme about growth and facing your own mistakes becomes about stagnation and inevitability.

But honestly I think the most telling change in the author's mindset comes from looking at the Alpha Trolls vs the Beta Trolls.

Like, the way that the Alpha Trolls ALL got a full personality, several interactions with the main cast, and through fan input started evolving into characters that had little traits of the fandom at the time

Homestuck was always a story with a crass tone (and it's kind of incredible how quickly the lingo changed, making early HS look a lot edgier in hindsight than it was at the time) but it felt like there was a lot of love for how these characters had kinda been forged together.

Then you get to the Beta Trolls in a dream bubble, basically all tossed into a high-production walkaround minigame. Several of them just direct, joyless jabs at the audience, less of them relevant.

For me it's really the turning point on the themes, the later acts have always felt super dissonant from the early acts because of that

So in my mind I see it as two big "parts" and examine them together as what I feel was a weak synthesis.

[mariacallous]

Owners of Spotify's soon-to-be-bricked Car Thing device are begging the company to open source the gadgets to save some the landfill. Spotify hasn't responded to pleas to salvage the hardware, which was originally intended to connect to car dashboards and auxiliary outlets to enable drivers to listen to and navigate Spotify.

Spotify announced this week that it's bricking all purchased Car Things on December 9 and not offering refunds or trade-in options. On a support page, Spotify says:

We're discontinuing Car Thing as part of our ongoing efforts to streamline our product offerings. We understand it may be disappointing, but this decision allows us to focus on developing new features and enhancements that will ultimately provide a better experience to all Spotify users.

Spotify has no further guidance for device owners beyond asking them to reset the device to factory settings and “safely” get rid of the bricked gadget by “following local electronic waste guidelines.”

The company also said that it doesn’t plan to release a follow-up to the Car Thing.

Early Demise

Car Thing came out to limited subscribers in October 2021 before releasing to the general public in February 2022.

In its Q2 2022 earnings report released in July, Spotify revealed that it stopped making Car Things. In a chat with TechCrunch, it cited “several factors, including product demand and supply chain issues.” A Spotify rep also told the publication that the devices would continue to “perform as intended,” but that was apparently a temporary situation.

Halted production was a warning sign that Car Thing was in peril. However, at that time, Spotify also cut the device’s price from $90 to $50, which could have encouraged people to buy a device that would be useless a few years later.

Car Thing's usefulness was always dubious, though. The device has a 4-inch touchscreen and knob for easy navigation, as well as support for Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, and voice control. But it also required users to subscribe to Spotify Premium, which starts at $11 per month. Worse, Car Thing requires a phone using data or Wi-Fi connected via Bluetooth in order to work, making the Thing seem redundant.

In its Q1 2022 report, Spotify said that quitting Car Thing hurt gross margins and that it took a 31 million euro (about $31.4 million at the time) hit on the venture.

Open Source Pleas

Spotify's announcement has sent some Car Thing owners to online forums to share their disappointment with Spotify and beg the company to open source the device instead of dooming it for recycling centers at best. As of this writing, there are more than 50 posts on the Spotify Community forums showing concern about the discontinuation, with many demanding a refund and/or calling for open sourcing. There are similar discussions happening elsewhere online, like on Reddit, where users have used phrases like “entirely unacceptable” to describe the news.

A Spotify Community member going by AaronMickDee, for example, said:

I'd rather not just dispose of the device. I think there is a community that would love the idea of having a device we can customize and use for other uses other than a song playback device. Would Spotify be willing to maybe unlock the system and allow users to write/flash 3rd party firmware to the device?

A Spotify spokesperson declined to answer Ars' questions about why Car Thing isn't being open sourced and concerns around e-waste and wasted money.

Instead, a company rep told Ars, in part: “The goal of our Car Thing exploration in the US was to learn more about how people listen in the car. In July 2022, we announced we’d stop further production and now it’s time to say goodbye to the devices entirely.” I followed up with Spotify's rep to ask again about making the device open source but didn't hear back.

At this point, encouraging customers to waste nearly $100 on a soon-obsolete device hasn't resulted in any groundbreaking innovations or lessons around “how people listen in the car.” In their initial response, Spotify's rep pointed me to a Spotify site that searches Spotify's newsroom for “how to listen to Spotify in the car.” One of the top posts is from 2019 and states that “if your car has an AUX or USB socket, using a cable is probably one of the fastest ways to connect by using your phone.”

As for Spotify, using customer dollars for company-serving learning experiences isn't the best business plan. And for regular users, it's best to avoid investing in an unproven hardware venture from a software company.

As Redditor Wemie1420 put it:

Doesn’t feel great that there is literally no alternative other than trashing it. Feels like we’re being punished for supporting them. Dissuades me from buying anything Spotify puts out in the future. I feel like there would be some way to approach this without being like, ‘yeah we’re done. Just throw it out it’s a waste of money now.’

[siphersaysstuff]

MAY MECH MARATHON

So for May's Patreon-backed @tfwiki toy picture batch, I got a wild hair. After last month's Exdimensions update, I realized that the wiki was missing Legend of the Microns (Armada) Exdimensions Twist (Makeshift), the only XD Emergency Team toy I hadn't done. So I did him up. Hooray!

Then the next day I was staring at the raw photos I took of Retro Hot Rod, which were in my Patreon "working" folder because I didn't have a "Retro" repository folder because I am almost certainly not going to get any others in this line, so I did his pic up... besides, it's the "flagship" toy of the line, it should get unique imagery. God he's gorgeous.

At that point I went " to hell with it" and decided that for each weekday in May, I'd do one toy pic from a random, whatever-I-felt-like selection. No overarching theme, and trying to hit a pretty broad swath of toylines and timeframes. Thus...

Not sure why I picked Universe Magna Stampede next. I actually had to dig him up to take these pics. I think I'd just chanced upon his stock imagery, which was craptastic and also showed the axe split in two, which I'm certain the toy is not supposed to do, and went "no, I'm'a fix this.

And this last week's updates...

I picked up Decoy Smokescreen for cheap at TFCon, and really, the wiki's Decoy coverage has been... lacking. Mostly in that they were sold in so many colors and different ways in Japan that the wiki barely touches on. Smokescreen's page is now the template for how Decoys should be, so I'll get to those in time.

There's not much story here with Animated Lugnut. Most of the wiki's Animated toy imagery is stock, and while stock quality had improved since 2003 (it'd almost have to), it's still not great. Taking pics of the real, final-release toy will almost always be preferable for a number of reasons.

Takara's Mega Super Collection Figure Starscream was part of the big early-2000s burst of G1 merch in Japan. A 5-inch fairly-posable soft-plastic figure with swappable parts, he and a handful of other big-name characters were made, plus several Legends of the Microns headliners.

Power Up VT6 is from the "Real Gear Robots" subline of the 2007 Transformers movie series, one of a large range of 1:1-scale toys that transform from personal electronic devices into robots. He's also one of the few whose altmode is not almost totally outdated. The Cybertron-based stickers on the early Real Gears led to the belief that these were canceled /re-assigned Cybertron toys, but nope! They were made specifically for the movie line, it's just that in order to get them into production, they had to get those decals out fast.

Remember Attacktix? No? Not shocking. Hasbro had an admittedly cool idea for an action tabletop game, started the line with Star Wars, and moved on to Transformers. Yes, officially, you could have Optimus Prime fight Darth Vader. Battle Ravage was one of the booster-pack common pieces (laughably officially "Rare"). You rolled his base forward a set number of "tix" (a clicky-thing in the base counted them off), then could use his spring-loaded waist to swing the mace-ball in the hopes of knocking over your opponent's pieces. There's other rules but that's the jist of it. Each booster-pack piece commonly came with a black base, but there was a roughly 1-in-8 chance of getting a silver-chrome base one, which had no gameplay differences but it was shiny. Sadly, the whole Attacktix line was cancelled after only one series of Transformers pieces were released, with several more based on Generation 1 shown off but doomed to never see release.

Next Saturday, I'll update with the pics done over the course of this coming week!

And remember, if you like these big pic jaunts, you can help make this bigger and better by tossing a tip via Patreon. Just look up "gregstfwikipics" at that site! You can even help pick a monthly theme!

[gaelic-symphony]

Please don't feel obligated to answer this publicly or at all... I was wondering how, if at all, do you think being Jewish and neurodivergent impact one another? Does one influence the other? Do they intersect? How does one inform your experience with the other?

So I've had this in my ask box for quite a while because I wanted to take some time to mull it over (and then I forgot about it. Whoops.), and it's a complicated question. I'm not sure I really have an answer to how my Jewishness and my ADHD intersect or inform my experiences with the other, but I do know that a lot of aspects of Judaism really seem to vibe with my neurodivergent brain.

The fact that Judaism has mandatory breaks built into the schedule of life feels like something very ADHD friendly. It's like the Pomodoro Method on a much more macro level: six days of work, one day of rest. And it really is rest. There is no rise and grind, no hustle culture, no veneration of productivity on Shabbat. Productivity is strictly forbidden. And sometimes the ADHD brain just needs that.

I also think the Jewish framework for sin and repentance has been so beneficial in accepting my brain's limitations as a former Twice Exceptional student with ADHD. Because smart kids with learning disabilities or neurodivergences frequently develop a really big fear of failure and inability to accept their own mistakes when pointed out to them, and a lot of that comes from anxiety and perfectionism that they have to develop in order to "reach their potential" and "overcome their disability"--which, of course, is bullshit. And if you grow up in a culture where sin and damnation are used to motivate people through fear, it's no wonder that neurodivergent kids--especially bright ones who do fairly well in school by punishing themselves into success--develop severe anxiety around failure.

But the Jewish concept of sin and repentance is very different. Sin is a part of life. It's something humans do because we are not perfect. Because we are living creatures with animal brains trying to make sense of our existence on this planet and figure out how to share it with others, and we don't always make the right decisions about it. Sure, you should try to avoid sin, but it's not something you have to fear, because you know what happens if you sin? You accept that you messed up, apologize to Hashem and to anyone you may have hurt, do your best to make amends, and try to do better next time. That's it. And I think that's been a very helpful approach to take when I experience failures or setbacks because of my ADHD. I am allowed to make mistakes because that is just part of being alive. And even if I make a really big, catastrophic mistake, there is no mistake I can make that will doom me forever. No matter what mistakes I make today, the sun will rise again tomorrow, and I will keep moving forward, making amends, and trying to do better.

I'd be really interested to hear from other neurodivergent Jews about their thoughts and experiences as well!

P.S. I started writing a Jewish Alex fic based on your earlier ask!

[growup-gloup]

Make the Best of your Alone Time

Many of us live with someone. Whether it's our parents, roommates, or partners, living with someone means we get used to someone around us all the time. I don't know about you lovelies, my sometimes, I blank out on what to do when I'm suddenly alone after a long period of social stimulation. Even if you live alone, it's easy to get lost in the daily responsibilities that you forget to take time for yourself.

It's so easy to get sucked into doom-scrolling or marathoning our favorite shows, but there are so many productive ways we could spend that time if we could just remember those options during that time. Hopefully, this list can remind you not only of your options but motivate you by reminding you of your potential.

Journal

You can do it digitally, but I personally prefer the feel of the traditional pen to paper. If you have a prompt or something on your mind, write to process that. If you don't know what to write, you can just start writing whatever first comes to mind, even if it sounds like gibberish at first. Write about what you can see and hear around you. Focus on everything you're feeling at this very moment and try to put those feelings into words. Just write.

Try a New Recipe

If you have access to a kitchen, find a recipe that is one step above your cooking level and try to replicate that dish. This one may involve some planning, especially if it requires a trip to the grocery store. Alternatively, you can look up the ingredients you have at home to see what you can make with it.

Read

I like to do this thing where I keep two different books on me. One fiction, and one non-fiction. I used to be able to finish entire novels within 24 hours, but that just isn't realistic with my schedule now, so I give myself a month to go through both of them. Pick the medium that works best for you, traditional, digital, audiobook. Bonus points if you reflect on what you read afterward, like what you liked, didn't like, and what you learned.

Deep Cleaning

I don't mind deep cleaning sprints at home, but I can't do it when there are other people around. Being home alone is the perfect time to clean your space as well as catch up on any errands that you've been putting off. Put on a podcast or a deep dive essay on YouTube in the background as you clean.

Passion Project

We all have things we wish we had time for but never get around to doing when we have time. No more. Whether it's a book you've been thinking of writing, an art project, or just something really cool that you want to do, this is the time to do it.

Get a New Hobby

Don't have a passion project? No problem. Start a new one. Try something you've always admired other people doing. The best part is that you don't even have to be good at it in the beginning. You just have to get started somewhere. Remember, it's about doing something, not showing people how good you are at it.

Learn Something New

Hobbies are great, but it's also great to expand your worldview. You could listen to informational things while you do other things, or you could take a free class online and take notes like you'd be doing for a class. Whatever helps you learn best.

Remember, this isn't a conclusive list. It's just a guideline to get you started on your first step. We all have to start from somewhere.

💋

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

What if It All Happens Again?

trauma doesn't leave easily. it lingers. sticks to you like cobwebs. remains a part of you like a still bleeding scar. and sometimes even when you think you're getting better, your finally healing, the scabs start to tear away, creating a fresh new wound.

warnings: hurt/comfort. descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks. very very slight mention of s*icidal thoughts (it's very vague). trauma.

a/n: this is a very personal story. I've been going through a very difficult time this last year and i thought i was coming to the end of all that stuff. but it got pretty bad today. so I'm writing this. I'm proud of myself for doing something productive with these pains. 🍊

bi-han x black biracial reader (gn!)

you half distractedly set your hair pick on your nightstand, staring at nothing in particular. your throat felt tight and uneasy sensations kept seeping into your chest and stomach. you finally gathered your kinky hair into a bun before wrapping your head in your silk headpiece, and that's when you realized you hadn't been listening to bi-han at all.

he'd been talking about today's mission. something about the next "champion" -bi-han's phrasing- liu kang had gone to find along with him and his brother kuai liang. "mediocre actor" and "imbecile" were only a few of the words you could focus on bi-han saying as your mind plagued you with your doubts. the ever looming thoughts that you were usually able to keep at bay. it's gonna happen again, i'm going to lose everything again. thoughts you'd gotten so much better at not letting take over your mind and body. but tonight was one of your worse nights, those thoughts were spilling into your mind, ever looming, as if they'd manifested into a large shadow figure that was always at the corner of your eye, reminding you of your failures, of how nothing good ever lasted for you, that you were doomed to repeat the same sorrows and traumas you'd barely began to heal from.

soon everyone here will hate me, just like they did back home. I'll be despised and abandoned and just like i was before...

your heartbeat was thundering now and your chest was tight, it felt hard to swallow but you did anyway, again, again, almost obsessively, even though you knew it wouldn't ease the block in your throat. it was getting more difficult to breathe, like weights were pressed up against your lungs, your stomach felt empty and hollow and you realized how tense your lower body felt. how you tensed up your thighs were as if ready to run if the thoughts kept plaguing you. your lower back ached and you moved to ease some of the tension. they'll find a reason to be rid of you, just as they did before.. you're never truly safe or liked... and it'll be my fault..I'll deserve it...

you heard bi-han speak your name and you snapped out of your drowning. he sounded slightly irritated, which was usual, as if he'd been calling your name several times already.

"mhm?" you responded, trying not to sound as anxious and depressed as you felt. you sat on the edge of your shared bed, back to him, foot lightly kicking your nightstand. bi-han stood on the other side, still fully clothed, not bothering to get comfortable as he ranted.

"did you not hear me?"

"i must have zoned out, I'm sorry my love." the smile you gave him did not meet your eyes and bi-han immediately picked up on that. "you have not heard anything i've just said did you?"

"no, no, i was listening." you lied turning your back again. "he's a cheesy wannabe actor who has no business in the tournament. i heard you." you turned again, only to smile at him again. and bi-han could still tell it didn't meet your eyes. he narrowed his own eyes at you.

"what is the matter?" he asked- moreso demanded of you.

you gave a long sigh and shrugged before absently running the fabric of your robe between your fingers. "it's nothing really, I'm listening i promise, tell me again how you broke this guy's priceless vase- I'm listening." you turned fully to face him. it was almost as if you were pleading with him. you were now tapping your thigh aggressively, to which bi-han also noticed.

i don't even deserve any of them liking me.. loving me... i don't deserve it.. how worthless can one be if they're hated by everyone?

"if something is wrong, just tell me. i know you don't want to hear about this tournament drivel." his voice sounded intense, mean, he wasn't even necessarily angry at you, he was always angry, but seldom at you, he never liked when you tiptoed around things, he just wanted you to say it.

you turned your face away, opening your mouth to speak, but a soft cry escaped your lips, one you tried to force down, and tears began brimming in your eyes.

bi-han's eyes widened. the realization you weren't just being weird with him for the sake of it hitting him in the face. in one of those rare moments, bi-han's anger dissipated, replaced only by concern, confusion. had someone hurt you? said something to you?

you tried to stop the tears from flowing down your face as your chest tightened and that uneasy sensation washed over you again, you finally felt how tired your body was. you brought a hand to your face as you began to cry, unable to hold all the pent up emotions in anymore.

bi-han was by your side in an instant. strong arms taking a hold of you. he pushed himself as close as he could to you, the contact sending something different to your body than panic and worry.

comfort.

but your tears still didn't stop, and your muscles still weren't relaxed. you tried to avoid him looking at you but he found your gaze.

"tell me what is the matter my dearest, I'm right here." though still intense, his voice was softer, quieter.

you only cried before trying to take a breath and speak.

"you do not need to suffer needlessly, my love, I'm right here with you." he brushed your cheek gently, wiping some of the tears away. you finally could face him, still crying as you rested your forehead firmly against his. he leaned firmly into you, steadying you, his strong arms still around you.

"i'm-" you started trying to take another breath. bi-han took one first, a long slow breath in, then out. it was something he silently always did whenever you panicked like this. wordlessly breathing in to show you you could do the same. and so you did, trying to follow his steady breaths with your uneaven ones.

"i'm just so worried again, about everything that's happened." your voice was raw and still shaking. but bi-han only took another deep breath, silently inviting you to do the same. as you exhaled you continued.

"I'm still so new here, in your home, in this realm.I'm still just.. not over it all. what if i lose this all again. what if I'm cast out, with no home, and nowhere to go. hated by everyone who looks at me. ridiculed and judged. hated by people i thought were my family... my friends...what if it all happens again?" your voice broke again, and you began sobbing more intensely. bi-han's brows furrowed in concern and a rare show of heartbreak. you'd talked to him of your previous life. the one you lived in outworld. the one you described with such adoration, such love and fondness. but also such sadness, such regret and anger. it pained him each and every time you spoke of it.

"where will i go if you all cast me out too? if i disappoint you all like I probably will? it'll be me, then won't it? I'm the issue. the pariah. no one cares about me. how can i bare it when another realm of beings hate me." bi-han felt his chest ache. an uncomfortable feeling. one he seldom felt. he wanted to fix it all. to be able to reach inside of you and take the pain away. to make sure you'd never have to deal with so much worry and sadness again.

you sobbed now. your foreheads still pressed together. the both of you still tangled in one another. bi-han spoke quietly.

"you will not be cast out from here, my love. i know it. but-" he paused a moment, trying to find the right words. he took another deep breath hoping you'd follow, and you did as best you could, though your breath was shakier than ever. "-but if that somehow happens... that still doesn't say anything about you. outworld, earth realm. they can all hate you, but that says nothing. absolutely nothing. they don't know you. how can they possibly when none of them even bothered to try? they can't see what's inside of you. your passion. heart. love. anger. will to survive. you're a good person. and even if all the realms in the universe tell you otherwise. they know nothing of who you are. you're better off without ones who would cast you off so easily.nthe ones that truly care for you will earn it. and show it."

your sobs had quieted down. but you wanted to cry again. bi-han's words hurt, but not because they were hurtful themselves. it was so incredibly hard to say nice things about yourself, to truly believe you were a good person. worthy of love for yourself. you craved connection. validation. and having that all ripped from you from the only home you knew- who'd thrown you out like a worthless stain meant to be washed out...it had broken you.

you took in a very shaky breath. realizing your hands were gripping onto bi-han for dear life. but he hadn't let go of you. arms held securely around you, his head against yours- grounding you, helping you get out of your own mind.

it couldn't happen again. it couldn't. because you weren't sure if you'd be able to survive if it did.

soon you found yourself laying across from him, limbs tangled still, as he gently brushed any lingering tears off your face. you felt your eyes getting heavy. sleep finally taking a hold of you. but you both looked at each other, gently, lovingly, as he caressed your face. you held onto him still, foreheads barely touching, and sleep had almost wrapped it's embrace over you when bi-han placed a kiss to your forehead and put a strong, heavy hand on your lower back, rubbing small circles.

you crumpled into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. and he held you there. not saying anything more. just occasionally inviting you to take deep breaths with him. rubbing calming circles on your back, your arms, your shoulders. he felt so safe. so comforting. the pang of hurt would come into your head now and again, of everything repeating like it had for so long, but you just pressed yourself further into bi-han, escaping from the shadows and drowning as best you could as he rested his cheek against your covered hair.

"i love you, my dearest. unconditionally. and you are worthy of that love for yourself too."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[mama-qwerty]

Little and Broken

This started as a little Shortie for an ask from @wingsofthesun and instead turned into THIS.

(Who is Callie?)

~~~~~~~~~~

Eclipse pressed himself flat against the wall as he peered into the living room. The lightbox (teevee Silver called it) was on, and colorful images flashed across the screen.

Silver and the human woman sat on the couch, with the hedgehog snuggled up close to his mother. Her hands ran absently through his quills, and every now and then he would turn his nose to nuzzle against her side.

At first, Eclipse wasn't interested. They watched that teevee almost every night, sometimes laughing at what they saw, sometimes crying, sometimes cheering. He didn't understand--they were just some sort of transmission. He'd seen similar ones on the Comet--feeds of various planets the Black Arms were studying to destroy more effectively. (Even though they were the strongest warriors in the galaxy, they still didn't want to waste effort and energy in an attack that could be won in a simpler way.)

He didn't get the appeal. Or how they could become so invested and reactionary to the images. It seemed silly.

The darkling had stayed in his little closet, trying to ignore the noise from the other room as he napped. But then, certain bits of dialogue came to him, and his curiosity got the better of him.

"Monstrosity? What you see before you, is the first of a new species. I call it, Experiment 626."

Eclipse's brow furrowed. He poked his head out through the blanket acting as the door to his 'room'.

"He is bulletproof, fireproof, and can think faster than super computer. He can see in the dark, and move objects 3000 times his size. His only instinct, to destroy everything he touches!"

The darkling crawled out from his hidey hole, making his way to the archway between the kitchen and living room. This was sounding interesting. It sounded a lot like him! A creature created to be a fierce warrior! To be strong and capable and formidable and--

"So it IS a monster."

That stopped him in his tracks. Monster? No, he was created to be the best parts of the Black Arms. This, well, whatever it was on the teevee was also created to be strong, to be a warrior. That's not a monster.

Eclipse slid against the wall, being careful to stay out of sight as he watched the events on the screen.

"And as for that abomination, it is the flawed product of a deranged mind. It has no place among us."

"The council has banished you to exile, on a desert asteroid."

That word made Eclipse's heart clench. He wasn't quite sure why he was on this backward mudball of a planet, but he'd always thought it was for some secret mission. Some valuable scouting mission for his father, the great and powerful Black Doom. It's what helped him keep his sanity in those early days.

But late at night, he thought of that word. Banished. And part of him whispered that that's really what happened. He'd failed his father one time too many, and now he was sent away. Banished to die alone on this pathetic planet, full of pathetic humans.

He tried to push that thought away.

On the teevee, Experiment 626 managed to escape. Eclipse watched with wide eyes as the ship he stole headed toward Earth.

~X~X~X~

"This is you. This is your badness level. It's unusually high for someone your size. We have to fix that."

Eclipse wrinkled his muzzle. Experimen--Stitch, wasn't bad. That was how he was created! It was just who he was. Changing him meant making him be a different person. That wasn't fair. That wasn't right.

He didn't like the humans in this transmission. Not at all.

~X~X~X~

"Look at him Lilo, he's obviously mutated from something else. We have to take him back.”

“He was an orphan and we adopted him! What about ohana??”

“He hasn’t been here that long!”

“Neither have I! . . . . Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten.”

Silver laughed at this part, pointing to the teevee.

“Look! That’s just like what happened with us when Eclipse came!”

The woman laughed a little, nodding. “Yeah, that’s kinda the gist of it, isn’t it? You were all about keeping him and I, well, needed a little convincing, didn’t I?”

“You were just mad because he bit you.”

“Oh, and that was so unreasonable!”

The two laughed a little more, and Eclipse looked on from his hidden spot near the archway.

The hedgehog was right. That was very similar to how it played out. To be fair, the darkling still wasn’t completely sold on the idea of staying here. His arm was healed, but the weather was getting colder outside. He’d never survive without shelter. And the human had welcomed . . . well, accepted him into her home without any demands for repayment or compensation. Sure, he couldn’t fight or hurt anyone, but that was a small price to pay for warm shelter and a full belly, right?

That word kept repeating through his head, though. Ohana. The older human in the transmission didn’t seem to want to keep Stitch, but the little one was insistent they did. Because of ohana. Family. She saw Stitch as family, even though he caused trouble, and had only been there for a short time.

His eyes wandered to the couch. Silver was like that. He had wanted to help Eclipse from that very first night he’d appeared, trying to snatch food from their trash. And the hedgehog was so happy to have Eclipse here now.

But the woman wasn’t as sold. Just like the one in the transmission. She was more wary of Eclipse. She was more interested in taking care of Silver, like the one in the teevee was all about caring for her sister. They were just the same.

It was strange how similar it was.

~X~X~X~

“This little girl is wasting her time. 626 cannot be taught to ignore its destructive programming.”

“This is interesting. 626 was designed to be a monster, but now, there’s nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like to have . . . nothing? Not even memories to visit in the middle of the night.”

Eclipse stared at the teevee with wide eyes. Was that . . . was that like him? He had been created as the Black Arms’ greatest weapon. A prince to the most dangerous and destructive race the galaxy has ever known. His entire life, since he was hatched, has been dedicated to fighting, destroying, being stronger and better than everyone and every thing else.

But on this planet, he didn’t have to fight. He didn’t have to destroy. He didn’t have to earn his right to exist, or suffer the consequences of failure.

He was still allowed to stay here, even if he didn’t prove his strength. He was still allowed to eat, without having to fight others for the barest morsel.

But if he didn’t do what he was created for, what did that make him?

The only difference was, Eclipse did have memories. But they weren’t exactly the type he wanted to visit in the middle of the night. Because they hurt. And were scary. And reminded him of just how much of a failure he was.

~X~X~X~

The humans were on the beach. Riding some sort of boards on the waves in the water. They laughed and had fun together. Stitch watched them.

Eclipse watched, too. His gold-on-black eyes flicked to the couch, where Silver and the woman sat. Silver leaned closer, and the woman reached down to pull him closer, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She rested her chin on the top of his head, and a smile curled the hedgehog’s lips.

Stitch reached for the little human. Wanting to be included. Risking a return to his greatest weakness. Just to be part of their family.

The darkling stared.

~X~X~X~

“I hear you cry at night. Do you dream about them? I know that’s why you wreck things, and push me.”

“Our family’s little now, and we don’t have many toys. But, if you want, you could be part of it. You could be our baby, and we could raise you to be good.”

“Ohana means family. And family means nobody gets left behind.”

“But if you wanna leave, you can.”

Anger stirred in the darkling. He hated this transmission. He shouldn’t be wasting his time watching this—he was a weapon, a warrior, and should have been spending every moment training to be stronger. Better. What did this transmission do to help him? Nothing. He should just head back to his closet and rest, so he can get up at first light and restart his training. He’d gone too long without it, and knew his father would have found that disgusting and unacceptable.

He should. It was what his father would want.

But he couldn’t move.

His eyes moved back to the teevee. And he hated himself for being so weak.

~X~X~X~

“L-l-lost.”

“I’m lost.”

Eclipse nearly ran into the room to break the teevee. He hated this. Something was stirring deep within him, and he didn’t know what it was, but it made him angry and sad and scared and his stomach twisted and clenched.

His eyes burned with tears and he grit his teeth to keep them away.

Weapons didn’t cry. Weapons didn’t feel sad or scared. Weapons fought. Weapons won.

The darkling clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.

~X~X~X~

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

“Family.”

“Aaahh, you don’t have one. I made you.”

“M-maybe I could . . .”

“You’re built to destroy. You can never belong.”

That thing stirring inside Eclipse surged, and he swallowed down tears. Bit back sobs. He never should have started watching this transmission. It did something to him, and he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it.

The thought of breaking through the glass door and running off into the night flashed through his mind.

But he couldn’t.

~X~X~X~

A heartbreaking separation. An unlikely alliance. A daring rescue.

Stitch, this little monster, this abomination, this creature who was only created for destruction, became a hero. He found his family. Found his purpose. Found his place.

“This is my family. I found it, all on my own.”

“It’s little, a-and broken. But, still good.”

“Yeah. Still good.”

And now the feelings within Eclipse couldn’t be contained any longer. They churned inside, pushing their way out, whether he wanted them to or not. Tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking his muzzle and dripping onto the floor as he held his head. Sobs barked through his throat, and he scurried back to his closet, curling up with his tail wrapped around him.

Silver and the human appeared, identical looks of worry and shock on their faces.

“What’s wrong??” the hedgehog cried, his hands yanking on one of his long head spikes.

“I dunno.” The woman knelt in the doorway, looking like she wanted to touch him, but hesitant to do so. “Eclipse? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Worried. They were worried about him. They heard him crying and came running to make sure he was okay.

Both of them. Even the human.

He squeezed his eyes shut, curling up tighter.

“Go away!”

He wanted to scream it, bellow it, turn and lash out at them. How dare they. How dare they make him feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to feel. He was only supposed to hate. To conquer. He didn’t want to feel like he could relax, and be comfortable, and not worry about being beaten or starved or punished for not doing just the right thing.

Because that was wrong, all wrong. His entire life was about strength and fighting and being better and never, ever, ever disappointing his father, even though he seemed to do it all the time. Even when he tried his best. His best was never, ever, ever good enough.

“Hey,” the woman called, shifting to sit on her ankles. She glanced over at Silver and encouraged him to do the same. “Hey, shhh. Take a deep breath, okay?”

Why should he listen to her? She wasn’t his guardian. His caretaker. His m-mother. She was Silver’s and that’s it. She only cared about him, not Eclipse. She only begrudgingly allowed Eclipse to be in her home, taking care of him only out of obligation, because that’s what Silver wanted. She didn’t want him here. She didn’t care.

“C’mon, deep breath,” she said again, her voice soft and soothing. “Focus on that for me, okay?”

He didn’t want to. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to just lash out—to slash and bite and punch and kick. He hated these feelings and wanted them gone.

But he found himself pulling a deep breath in, and letting it out slowly, following her lead. She smiled and said soothing words to him, continuing this slow breathing.

After a few more breaths, Eclipse’s tears slowed, and he uncurled, but kept himself in the furthest corner from them.

“Better?” she asked, a little smile on her lips. Eclipse turned away, but nodded once. “Good. Are you hurt?” He hesitated before shaking his head. “Okay, also good. Do you wanna talk about it?” Another head shake, this one more immediate. “Okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. But both Silver and I are here if you change your mind.”

Eclipse grunted in response. He wouldn’t change his mind. What could he say? The transmission they were watching made him feel things? How stupid. It was stupid.

“How about some ice cream?” Silver asked, flicking his amber eyes between Eclipse and his mother. “That always makes me feel better after I get upset.”

The darkling turned slightly, an eyebrow raised. He wasn’t much for the sweet foods Silver seemed to like, but ice cream was something he could tolerate. Even if it was cold. He gave the hedgehog a little nod.

“That’s an excellent idea, Bug,” the woman said, pushing herself to her feet. “C’mon kiddos. Ice cream makes everything better.”

Silver quickly followed after his mother, a big smile on his lips. Eclipse slowly crawled out of his closet, watching as they gathered bowls and spoons.

This world was nothing like his home on the Black Comet. These people were nothing like the Black Arms’ or Black Doom.

But maybe . . .

Maybe that was okay.

~~~

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