#did I provide context? no. am I sorry? also no.

[nocentis]

Black Arum ┆ Siegrain

Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.

╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.

A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.

That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails — more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.

So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.

╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.

Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.

Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.

There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.

“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.

The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.

He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.

Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands. 

Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”

Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.

A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.

His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.

"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”

The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.

His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.

He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.

He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”

Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her. 

He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.

But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.

He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.

The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow.  A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.

Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.

It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.

Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.

He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.

This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.

A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.

She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.

What are these hands for if not this?

Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.

The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.

Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it. 

What are these teeth for if not this?

Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.

The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.

He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.

Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.

He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.

You’re no better than this starving world.

He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.

[deepfriedpaddymayne]

I have an... unusual question about SAS, that you can choose to ignore if you like. From someone who is considering watching it, but also has a bad habit of trailing off of shows before they get really heavy, roughly how much emotional bandwidth would this show take up? Scaled against TMA, if you'd like :P

oh that's a good question! I would say, this show isn't the lightest - there is the generic ww2 sadness, and the tragedy, and also the war crimes (which do very much happen and yes, they are against nazis but like. I cannot stress enough that these babygirls do commit literal war crimes). it does take everything with a good dose of british gallows humour, though, which to me makes it generally easier to stomach, though for some people it might feel a little jarring - and that is not to say that the really grim, darker moments are not treated seriously. overall I think it has a good balance of "making you want to lie on the floor and cry" and genuinely hilarious moments, but that kind of thing can be really subjective.

if we want to compare it to Magnus, I would say the format is different. you know how Magnus just gets more and more tragic and depressing as it goes? Rogue Heroes doesn't really work like that, it has a lot of ups and downs. i would say that episodes 1 and 2 are quite lighthearted, 3 and 4 are very sad, and 5 and 6 are about the fallout and recovery from 3 and 4 (though there is a couple of very heavy moments in episode 6, as well, just slightly less overall misery). I am happy to provide more context on what things might be really heavy, though that would venture into spoiler territory.

in short: I wouldn't say that this is a fun lighthearted show to put on for a laugh, but I think that largely it balances the tragedy and the silliness quite nicely - while keeping in mind that, considering the entire premise and the setting, there IS a fair amount of tragey.

[sateurn]

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

These sobs really limited my tags?????

I have so many more thoughts this is so so much less than 1/2. Broski. Big dislike

[thiefking]

i still really want to post the full volo execution on here because i think i did a REALLY good job writing it but the issue is.

there are two video components . i don't know if i can add two videos in one post... i don't think i can if i don't make it a youtube link and that would be... clunky

when i originally posted the execution i had a lot of precise control over the SPEED it was posted, it was over discord so i spaced out certain paragraphs and waited for the videos to be viewed by everyone (watched for chat reactions over certain lines that are only at the very end of each video) before i continued so as to prevent anyone from reading ahead and also to create the exact tense atmosphere i desired. now granted i did have people read it for me before and after it was time for the execution itself and the pacing seemed solid BUT i wanted to take it a step further and ENSURE it was all read exactly how i wanted it to be

the context. holy shit is there so much missing context. sure yeah i could just say "it's from a multiverse killing game rp, it's basically danganronpa in space and you can have volo from pokemon, billy joe cobra from dude that's my ghost, whirl from transformers, and shego from kim possible (all real examples. spamton was the first murderer btw.) all in the same room at once and no one bats an eye" but. i almost feel like that wouldn't cut it because you also need to know i only write my volo the way i think it would be FUN to write volo (rather than what i think is canon) and that's with his god complex turned up to 1 trillion, if you wanted to know anything from "why was there a steak keychain" to "why turtle" i'd need to explain the folklore/folktales i was referencing and built the entire execution's theme around, you'd need to see the murder + attempted murder that he was getting executed for to begin with, you'd need to know the attempted murder was fucking joshua from twewy, you'd need to know joshua from twewy is unity's best friend, you'd need to know volo is/was dating unity and they had a hateromance for almost the entire duration of the game thus far (started hateflirting on day 2, had a potent emotional moment day 20, became officially romantically involved i think literally the same day that we were allowed to start establishing romantic relationships with the characters on day 42, and they lasted all the way until day 311 when volo was executed), you'd need to fucking know who unity is to begin with and they are literally an oc, like do you see the problem here it won't hit as hard if you don't know the context. this also isn't even all of the context i need to give. my joshua has 6 wings. that's important to know if i were to include the body drop photo that shows off the result of volo's murder/arts and crafts project/torture session so you don't think he only had 2 and consequently wonder how volo could have chopped off 4 of them

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ 'make me' with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is very suggestive lmao

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: this is a repost from my old blog! so if you feel like you've read this before, that's why :)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

“Make you? Make you do what?” yes, he will play dumb to ‘make you’ use your words and elaborate.

Doesn’t do anything and acts oblivious until you actually say it, no matter how much he wants to.

Acts bubbly and normal like nothing even happened, laughing away without a care in the world while watching tiktoks or something. Unbothered.

The moment you do speak, something inside him snaps and he’s got you backed against a wall in moments, talking lowly over your lips while caressing your face.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

Oh, he will. No matter the context or where you are, Minho will take your words as a challenge and do anything in his power to make you regret ever doubting him.

Gives you this specific look that makes you go weak in the knees, raising a single eyebrow before beckoning you closer.

Will whisper in your ear, giving you one more chance to back down while softly playing with a strand of your hair.

If you don’t do as he says, he will start whispering the dirtiest stuff with the straightest face, being content with just flustering you until you get home and he can finally ‘make you’.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Forget about teasing and playing dumb, Changbin will ‘make you’ instantly. He doesn’t play around.

Will also back you up against the nearest surface and cup your face, resting his forehead on yours with a smirk on his face.

He feels so smug and cocky when he sees you get shy and regret your words that he can’t help but find the whole situation amusing.

The power imbalance the moment provides feeds his ego so don’t expect to get away with this scot-free. Changbin will punish you thoroughly.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

Raises an eyebrow and just…stares at you, blinking. Looks so unphased that you actually think he didn’t hear you at first.

But he did, and the moment you repeat yourself, he stands up to tower over you, fisting some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail to bring your face closer to his.

Licks his lips just to torture you a little more before finally pressing them to yours for a needy kiss, the soft action a straight contrast from the hold he still had on your hair.

When he pulls away, he repeats the words that got such an answer from you and expects you to finally listen, eyes sharp without any hint of playfulness in them.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

Turns red instantly and his brain kind of short-circuits because he wasn’t really expecting that.

If this was said in the heat of the moment during an argument, all of the anger will leave his body and he will just…stand there, flustered.

His mind will be racing with all of the things he wants to do to you, some innocent, others not so much while he looks at you, licking his lips.

Jisung will be tongue-tied, wanting to say too many things at once so you have to be the one pulling him from his trance if you want something to happen.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

Felix will get the biggest smirk on his face, I swear. These are two of his favorite words after all.

He will make you do things you’ve never even dreamt of doing so be careful what you wish for.

Takes a hold of your hand and draws you closer until you’re a breath away, placing a sweet peck on your lips that somehow leaves you dizzy and desperate for more.

Then, his voice drops and you feel the vibration in your bones as he speaks. “Make you do what exactly? Tell me, in detail.”

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Oh, you want him to make you shut up? Say no more.

Will get up and actually go through all the trouble of getting a paper towel and shoving it in your mouth Minho style (I AM SO SORRY KSJDGNDF BUT HE WOULD)

That is if he isn’t in the mood to play your games. If he is, however, things would be completely different.

“Are you sure this is what you want? You might end up regretting it.”

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

A tease from beginning to end. He won’t take you seriously at all I’m afraid.

Might even laugh in your face before making himself more comfortable in his seat, (man)spreading his legs before beckoning you closer with a single finger, amused.

Wants you to entertain him and if you don’t, he will ‘make you’.

Will place you in his lap and use his words to fluster you beyond belief, his fingertips ghosting over your skin sending shivers down your spine.

[cripplecharacters]

hi!! I have a character I created when I was a teenager who I am currently revamping for a new project, but I am stumped for how to fix a big mistake I made at the time. I based this character's appearance on my best friend in high school, who had a growth disorder/facial difference.

at the time, I asked him how he would describe himself in writing, and his examples were phrases like "a boy with a malformed jaw" or "misshapen fingers". I recognize that if this were his own project, he would be totally allowed to say whatever he wanted about a character who had his disability, but I am not a person with a facial or limb difference, so I feel like I need to change the phrasing. I would ask him for his opinion again, but he passed away a couple years ago, so it's not possible for me to find out what he'd like me to change.

I still want to include this character and make it clear what he looks like, because it's important to me that I represent him in my writing in some way. However, I don't think he was misshapen or malformed. I don't know what words I can use instead to communicate exactly how he appeared, and I'd really like some insight for how to describe him appropriately and with the respect the friend this character is based on deserves. Please help!

For reference, the character we designed had a mix of both our disabilities' symptoms, and we did not give him any specific diagnoses at the time because of this. The character used a wheelchair because I did, the character had crooked fingers and uneven legs because he did, the character was nonverbal because we both were, had an overgrowth of tissue on his face because my friend did, and the character was epileptic because I was. I am not sure how relevant all of that is, but I figured I'd include it. Sorry if this ask is rambling, I am trying my best to be detailed

-🦴🏴‍☠️

Hi!

I don't think it'd necessarily be wrong to describe your character as such if the person he's based on used that as his self-description. I probably said this somewhere on this blog before, but I always think that “a character with less than perfect terminology portrayed well” is much better than “horrible representation, but they used the 'proper' term”. And if that's what he said about himself, this might just be the “proper” term in this context.

But I do understand that you might want to go another way, especially considering you said that you didn't see your friend as having something malformed or misshapen about him - so how did you see his differences? Maybe “a boy with 'an overgrowth of tissue on his face'” - as you described in the last paragraph - would work?

In writing, I generally think it's helpful to be more specific than not when it comes to character descriptions. So you could get more technical (all random examples);

“an asymmetric lower jaw, with the right side larger and protruding forward,”

“had a left leg that was slightly longer, with the hip tilted upward,”

“his fingers bent towards the other ones, curving like the letter C and overlapping with each other at the tips,”

or, you could go halfway, using the words that your friend used himself;

“he happened to have a malformation on his jaw; a soft mass decorated his chin throughout its length,”

“crooked fingers, each having a slight bend to it.”

If you decide to go for the original terminology, I would expand on what exactly the reader is supposed to imagine by it - there's a few ways to not have a facial difference, and a billion ways to have one. You don't need to go into way more detail than you do for other characters, but it'd be good to be informative enough so that the reader doesn't end up wondering “malformed in what way?”. In my opinion, “overgrowth of tissue” (or any other wording that would provide this amount of information) would be completely sufficient for this role.

I will also say that “malformed” and “beautiful/handsome/adorable” are by no means antonyms as words! One can have a disfigured nose that's incredibly cute, misshapen legs that look great in shorts, or an attractive malformed jaw. That's very much doable in writing, and would help here with making sure you're not portraying it as negative in some way.

There is also the option of using more medicalized terminology (“hypertrophied”, “clinodactyly”, etc.) but it might both not be the most comfortable to use, as well as confusing to some readers if there's no other descriptor given. It also might be awkward in writing, especially if that'd be the only time this kind of terminology would come up. But if you're up for this;

“the clinodactyly on his hands caused the fingers to curve toward each other,” or

“the hypertrophied tissue stretched from his left earlobe to the chin, with freckles adoring it along the way,”

or something along those lines could work, I think.

I'd also try to describe other “non-difference” features as well, perhaps even at the same time. There's a ton of ways you could go about it, but the general idea is to bring up his difference as a complete non-event - something that's so normal that it's not needed to give it a separate description;

“the bright red wheelchair had one footplate set much higher to accommodate for his short right thigh,”

“her eyes were drawn to his hands, with each colorful nail making a clicking sound whenever his overlapping fingers moved,”

“he grinned widely after noticing that his facial hair has fully filled in behind the soft overgrowth on his chin,”

“the sunflower tattoo on his larger leg was still slightly red, but the cat on the thin right one already looked fully healed.”

Obviously all the examples here are random, but hopefully they will help you figure out what kind of description you want to employ.

Either way, it's clear that you're approaching this with a lot of care and good intentions and that's what really matters. I hope this was helpful and I wish you good luck in your writing!

mod Sasza

[treason-and-plot]

“Of course you can rely on me,” says Roy, her words causing the lump in his stomach to turn into a cold, heavy stone. “I’ll always be there for you. I love you, for Christ’s sake. You’re the most important person in my life. And I’m really sorry if I made you doubt that last night-”

“There was no ‘if’, Roy,” says Anya. “You absolutely gave me a lot of doubts. And they’re still there.”

Jesus, thinks Roy, why the fuck am I the bad guy? He takes another deep swig of his beer while he considers his position. But the rational part of his brain seems not to be working properly today. It’s been compromised by genuine fear that he could lose Anya if he doesn’t quickly get a handle on the situation. He also realises that he wasn’t lying when he told her she was the most important person in his life. And he understands for the first time what people mean when they say that they don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry. No ifs. I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I’m a selfish, insensitive arsehole. And I’m going to do my best to try and explain why I was distant last night,” he says. “I’m not defending my behaviour, I’m just trying to provide you with some context, okay?”

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“Well, first off, I was angry and upset even before you told me about your Dad because Sonia had told me she wasn’t going to let us see the kids on Friday night,” he says. “So, yeah. There was that. And okay, I know now that it wasn’t that much of a huge deal compared to what Michael did, but it still really affected me.”

Anya says nothing, her eyes scanning his face as he talks.

“And I felt like I couldn’t share my feelings with you because you were so distraught, and I guess that kind of made me resentful and caused me to withdraw,” he continues, warming to his story. “It was childish of me, and pathetic, and I have no excuses for not putting your needs before mine. You’re right. I let you down. And I really hope that…that you can forgive me. And believe me when I say that I’ll do everything I can to try and make it up to you.”

“Thank you,” she says in the same quiet voice.

“Are we… good, then?” he says.

“Why did you question whether he was cheating?” she says.

“What?”

“You asked if going to a prostitute was cheating. Your exact words were: “Is it technically cheating, though?” Why did you say that? How could you say that? Are you saying that you think that it’s okay for married men to visit prostitutes, Roy? I’m just really confused. And concerned that we have different viewpoints about what constitutes cheating. I mean, do you honestly think it would be morally okay for you to visit a prostitute? I really need to know!”

[fasolabean]

warninggg this is a long one ,,,

(Okay so I started writing this uhhh vent before more posts on the n//fts appeared later so plz keep that in mind hah)

So I haven’t been too active on here for the past month – a bit personal start, but I’ve moved to a different country whooo!!!! (its terrifying) (my brains been involved in fandom stuff as usual but physically I wasn’t lmao).

But I wanted to talk ab the n//ft (censoring bc idk ab bots here) thing bc while some people on here provided some great context and threads, most of the talk has happened on twitter. So like. Since it was first confirmed what the raffle thing was I was veryyyy disappointed, especially bc K has made fun of this very thing on stage previously. And like yea, the nature of what hes doing is different than the n//ft crypt0 scams, since the cost of the paywalled content is set and not fluid and the raffle thing was free to enter, and I know there have been threads about the website not being the worst on twitter (link) (edit: now here on tumblr too). But still man. Both of these could’ve been done on either an independent website or through stuff like youtube members or patreon. Or hell, even just on the merch store? Like buy a promo code that buys you access to the material?

Also like I get that this was probably a contract that would be rly hard if not impossible to terminate. STILL though, I wish we just got an even short thing like “hi sorry I wasn’t aware this is gonna be a one time thing we’re not doing it again”. I don’t mind extra content being paywalled personally, I know some people do, but I just really wish it wasn’t don’t with that technology. And yes, I also now know it’s a safer way to handle shit like that but I just cant see this excuse being used for commercial use? Like maybe I can see why I could be made to use it for like idk an important document, but a raffle ticket? Nah

I also, ugh. Felt weird about mikke in the team since the winter. This whole thing seems to be – at least to a large extent – either done or influenced by him, judging by even the fact that the europass thingy webpage has oy photomikke marked (no im not buying it but i did look around curiosity was stronger). Also the previous thing that had made me go hmmm about käärijä as a brand was the bnb, which now seems to be ran entirely by mikke and his wife. Like stick to your photos man? That being said tho, Jere IS an adult and he IS the face of this brand. If he doesn’t think hes qualified to make business decisions all by himself (which I get, this shit is hard), nothing is stopping him really from getting a professional to help him with those things. And if there IS something stopping him then hey man I think you should go to the press with that lol. From any interviews ive seen or read, you can feel he feels this responsibility to keep his friends and family that initially helped him afloat. But I wish he understood that not letting people who in the end are not professional about business and PR and having them stick to their own thing does not have to mean cutting them off.

But now I just wanna share a thought that to some might seem like me defending him – which, in case you didn’t get I am very much not lmao. The thing is, im really glad the fandom is able to call him out on a shitty thing – like a bad baaad business decision. You can like somebody’s art, hell you can even like the public person they are, while not agreeing with everything what they do. What annoys me though, is that apart of the kä fandom, he is also often talked about (usually negatively) in the wider esc fandom. Over the past week I’ve seen multiple threads on twitter from people that rarely ever mention him about this. That would’ve been like, not that much of a deal (though sometimes it really got… engagement bait-y) but the amount of bodyshaming and shaming of his fans that comes up with every valid criticism is making me wanna pull my hair out.

Especially cause he’s neither the first finnish esc-related artist to do that (Robin and Cyan Kicks are mentioned on the kollekt website) nor is he the first esc artist of his influence to do it either. Last year Loreen and Alessandra have released n//fts last year, and Loreen did a very similar raffle a couple months ago. Now I wanna be very clear: I don’t want this to be like. Cancelling these people, that would be so hypocritical of me. I also don’t want this to be like a fandom war like oh youre mad he did xyz?? Well THIS and THIS person did THAT!!1! I’m just merely annoyed that these people doing essentially the same thing went with no echo at all, but now I’ve seen us (the fandom) be literally called the r slur and the most vile things being said about jere and, for some reason, his appearance???

Idk man. I really try to  make it clear im not trying to excuse his decisions and I think being angry and/or disappointed at him is absolutely understandable. Im just angry that every single time he fucks up, every single time he makes a mistake, my timeline is filled with a wave of people rejoicing in it. I know he’s a controversial figure, he’s been one since day one, but I just wish he’s gotten the same amount of shit his peers do for the same actions? And this happens every time, and each time im like “well ig I can see why hes so bad when it comes to criticism”. Because imagine doing a thing that your peers have done with no/minimal criticism and then the moment you try it out you get people calling your fans slurs and commenting how stupid you are. Like ngl id also think any criticism was hate lmao.

Again I wanna be very VERY clear im very critical ab what he chose to do. I wish he took some responsibility – and hope he maybe does, at some point in the future. This year has been a whole lot of bad business decisions for the käärijä brand in my eyes, and I hope he can actually see where its gone wrong and do something about it, both for his and our sake. I am also happy to see fellow fans who are able to call out their fave. But man I am TIRED of him just getting all the shit (from people who very visibly fans are not)?? And now I have the proof that it is comparably more than other people and not just my bias towards him because wdym there’s been at least 4 esc artists, 2 of which more famous than him, and 2 umk artists doing exactly the same thing with almost no echo??

TLDR (thishasover1kwordsfuckshit); I wish he did better, simply. I kinda cling to some hope that maybe hey finally this time he will see that criticism can be constructive. I think this is still a level of fucking up that you can like, come back from. Pity it’s connected to the eurotour since kinda souring my excitement ab my first concert in a new country a bit :(

[writingstoraes]

begin again 🌷 (split pt. 3)

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: the long awaited part 3! this took so long only cause i had no idea how i want it to go lol anyway i hope u guys love this one :D lmk what u think!

about: almost a year after your split with charles, fans take a trip down memory lane and wondering why the two of you seemed to have watered things down after soft launching other people months ago. a bunch of rumors also set twt crazy along with speculations at your paddock appearance where you apparently support ferrari.

read: part 1, part 2 (can read on its own, but the parts provide context hehe)

yourusername

liked by isahernaez, lilymhe, landonorris, and 231,298 others

yourusername back at the happiest place on earth ❤️

lilymhe Have fun, love xo

yourbff Looking that good just to watch a race????

tyretactics QUEEN I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO YOU EVERY RACE

charliez1655 miss mam twt is on fire we all miss you 😪

leclercsluv wdym shes almost always at every race ricciardoshooey no they meant w charles lol

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

Now playing: Charles Leclerc, 2023 Austrian GP, Post-Sprint Shootout Interviews

yourusername

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 210,593 others

yourusername on a wednesday, in a cafe, i watched it begin again

lecslover looking GOOD AS HELL QUEEN

sainzplaylist god shes back to the man shes been soft launching i think i am going to be: sick

1655lecs that might be charles, we don't know 🙏 sainzplaylist yeah i think its time we let that go lol

wagsqueens mam im sorry wym by begin again???

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, finemidnights, carlossainz55, and 982,221 others

charles_leclerc It's nice to have a friend 🌅

tyreexpert u cant tell me thats not y/n 😪 she's his friend after all...

joris__trouche Looking sharp!

lecssainz16 war is over you guys theyre back at it i am in my acceptance stage now

Some months later...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 756,293 others

yourusername i am and willl always be your number one fan. words cannot encapsulate how proud i am of you; truly, you deserve all of this and so much more. congratulations, my love ❤️

it's nice to see you running towards me again :)

ps. yes we've been soft-launching each other the past months hahaha

leclercfan AM I DREAMING SOMEONE PINCH ME

livwatchraces i screamed when i saw you guys on the screen!!!

carlossainz55 Aaand they're back 🎉

charles_leclerc Thanks, number one shipper

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, and 1,982,384 others

charles_leclerc Sunshine in human form.

A few months ago, I started hanging on to the fact that in good faith and in good time, things will eventually work its way out. Almost a year ago, it seems as if we have closed a chapter but today, we are living proof people who are made for each other can begin again.

Ce sera toujours toi 🤍 It will always be you.

scuderiaferrari We missed you tons, Y/N! ❤️

wagsf1 the queen of all queens is back we love to see it

lecslover it's years later and he still talks about her the same way he always have 🥹

sainzchamp The way theyve been soft launching each other all this time and that one rumor of Charles being with another girl was still Y/N 😭

yourusername sold our apartment already? too bad 😆

charles_leclerc I never actually sold it, if I did, I'd probably buy it back

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @mehrmonga, @mess-in-side, @leclerc16s, @thelovehypothesis, @dakotali, @aldene-styles

notes: eeee and its finally done! cant believe it took so much time before i finished all three parts lol anyway thank you so much for those who waited for the part three (i see all the asks on my inbox and the comments ehehe) i really just didn't know how i wanted it to go so! i hope you guys love this and lmk what you think <3

[arvensimp]

your father should know, pt. 4

Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.

arven x fem!reader, nsfw content (in pt. 1), pregnancy (pts. 1, 2, & 2.5), angst, and stupid miscommunications

[part 1][part 2][part 2.5][part 3]

I'M HERE AGAIN THANKS FOR THE WAIT. SORRY ABOUT BEING THE WAY I AM LMAO please enjoy the next installment. it's not beta'd i'm out here livin like larry

~

[Group Chat: Team Star? More Like, Time To Go To HR AmIRight???]

WalkWalkFashionBaby: hey @ ParadoxChamp is this your man?

WalkWalkFashionBaby: [sent a photo]

[Image description: A man with wavy, longish ash blond and light brown hair, accompanied by a Mabosstiff, walking down the streets of Mesagoza. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems to be smiling.]

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: ?????????

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: !!!!!!!?!

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: yo wtf 

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: first of all that deadbeat isnt her man ortega

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: second

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: yea uh

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: @ paradoxchamp did you know he was back in town???????

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: third @ giacomo4pm momo if you don't change our nicknames in this chat back to normal I will absolutely dox you (again) and then change them back myself

Giacomo4pm: Can do, will do.

Giacomo4pm: Also, yo, damn, what's he doing back? I thought he fled the country or whatever.

--

Rika: so the sperm donor's here. Just came up the hill asking for you. Want me to send him packing?

Rika: yeah u do

Rika: well... I do.

Rika: also unrelated, holy sHIT, man's genes are strong. It's like I'm looking into a time machine for Basil's future.

Rika: except, you know. Basil will be way cooler and more handsome with your genes mixed in.

Rika: ❤️

Rika: plus no shitty facial hair.

Rika: or better facial hair.

Rika: anyway, I'm gonna eviscerate him.

Rika: love you. ❤️

--

You had been in Area Zero, gathering information on moth pokemon for Jacq when the director called, his usually placid voice laced with an edge of steel.

"Basil's father just stopped by." He says without preamble.

Your heart sinks, and you nearly lose your grip on Raidon, only barely managing to stay upright and drag the pokemon to a halt.

"His what?" You splutter, changing the phone to your other ear, as if you hadn't heard correctly.

"His father." The director repeats. "I know we have not...explicitly discussed Basil's paternity, but, well," He tsks lightly. "He showed up to speak to me."

Your head is filled with tarountula webbing. You feel your hearing go fuzzy, but somehow your hands direct Raidon up and toward the closest lab station. Out, out, out. Back to the school. Back to Basil, back to--

"I'm on my way to the entrance to Area Zero now." Clavell continues when you don't reply after a few moments. "I'll meet you there with Basil."

"What did he want?" You finally ask as you enter the station.

"I didn't give him the opportunity to chitchat."

You hum. "One second, Sir." You step into the transport pad.

A moment later, and Clavell is right in front of you, Basil tucked safely in his stroller, looking just as he did when you dropped him off this morning, save for his hair looking a little...off. You disregard it.

"Thank you so much." You sigh, hanging up the phone as Clavell gives you a sad sort of smile.

"Anything for you two." He says.

You kneel and try to fluff up your son's hair, but it has dried all crunchy from whatever happened during the day. He's getting a bath later, so you don't fret over it and just smile warmly to him, trying not to let your panic show.

"Ready to go home, sweet thing?" You ask him.

Basil nods, reaching with little hands for yours in his hair. "Mhmm!" He nods. "Ahso, Mama! I saw a big buddy! A big, BIG buddy!"

Clavell clears his throat and provides some context. "Mabosstiff said hello."

You look up to the director, knowing exactly which Mabosstiff he must mean. "Oh? Mabosstiff! That's...that's so great!" If your register is maybe just a touch too high, your smile too tight, it's only to maintain face in front of the boy to whom you turn back. "Were you kind? Remember how we always wanna be nice to new pokemon, yeah?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh! He gived me a kisses! A lotsa kisses!"

So that's the crunch in his hair.

Oh, Mabosstiff...

"That's my sweet boy." You sigh, ruffling the mess before standing again to face the director.

"Thanks again. I'm gonna..." Another long exhale. "I'm gonna get us home."

Clavell nods. "You know how to reach me if you need something. And... Well, if you want me to intercede on your behalf, I'm happy to have words." He says stoically. "At times I felt I was the closest thing..." He gestures with his head outward toward the school. "He had to a parent in his life... I..." It's his turn to sigh. "I don't understand what happened there. How he could do what his own parents did to him? I'm sorry. If it's any consolation."

Your heart squeezes, and you distract yourself from the feeling by digging your nails into the soft foam of the handles of Basil's stroller. "Don't be. He made his choice, y'know?" You try to smile, but it's shaky. "He deserves to have the life he wants."

"He deserves a kick in the pants." Clavell responds. "Not that I'm an advocate for corporal punishment..." He adjusts his glasses in that grandfatherly way.

You laugh.

"Well, if he sticks around long enough, maybe you'll get a chance."

You hope he doesn't stick around.

Or...do you?

Do you even want to see him?

Either way, you don't want to linger on it in the lab.

"I'm gonna take this little one home."

Clavell nods. "Until later."

And then you're calling a cab to get back to your place, and Clavell is on his way back to the office.

While you're in the cab, you check your messages and sigh. Seems like Ortega caught a glimpse of Arven, and Rika is...fucking with him in some way or another.

You ignore your old classmates and opt to just text Rika.

Me: Got Basil from Clavell and we're on our way home rn/

Me: Love you too ofc 💖💖

A minute or so later, your phone buzzes. Rika again.

Rika: he's gone now

Rika: I put the fear of arceus in him if i do say so myself

You roll your eyes, smiling wryly. By now the cab is slowly descending to the space just outside your home, so you pocket the device and maneuver Basil in his stroller out of the cramped space and into the house.

Once he's unbuckled from his seat, he's bouncing around and grabbing at the attached bag, the one containing Buddy's pokeball, asking in broken syllables if they can play. 

It isn't a huge deal to let the pup out of the ball to play, so you hand it over to Basil, reminding him how to behave with his friend. At the same time, you also release Skeledirge to keep a watchful eye over the pair for a moment.

In the weeks since the Raisins Incident, as you've called it, you've come to the realization that your team can be of some assistance to you when you need a moment to yourself, when you're overwhelmed. Obviously Skeledirge isn't a parent. Neither is Raidon or Tinkaton or Screamtail or anyone else, but Skeledirge is smart enough to keep them safe for the precious seconds you need to breathe.

So you let the three alone in the living room and retire to your bedroom for a moment to collapse on the bed and gather your thoughts. You only need a few seconds. Just a few seconds of Mama time...just a few.

There's a sound at your open door as Basil toddles in, two pokemon in tow.

"Mama... Hungy?" He asks, clenching his shirt in tiny balled fists.

"Oh, sweetness..." You sigh, leaning down to pick him up and seat him securely on your lap. "You're hungry?" You press your face into his head, expecting its usual downy softness and the comfort of your child's scent, only to be met with that uncomfortable crunch of dried Mabosstiff slobber. Out of Basil's line of sight, your nose crinkles. "Let's see what we've got in the kitchen, yeah?"

"Toast? Toast 'n jellies?" He asks hopefully.

"I think we could do that, my littlest..." You respond with a smile, hefting your boy onto your hip as you trudge into the kitchen.

Of course, it would be just your luck that you're entirely out of oran jelly, the only jelly that Basil will eat right now. Thank you, developing taste buds and picky eating...

Maybe he won't notice if you try to give him pinap jelly instead this once?

You prepare his plate, the toast lovingly cut into four triangles, and you give him his sippy cup as well, but Basil only stares down unhappily at the food.

"Jellies?" He asks, his tiny button nose wrinkling.

"Yeah, Baby, I made you toast and jelly." Your heart clenches, anxiety rising, but you try to keep your voice chipper.

"Nuh-uh!" He insists, pushing the plate away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't have the usual jelly. Do you wanna try this instead?"

Your son looks at you with wide eyes, rapidly filling with tears. His lower lip wobbles, and his brow furrows angrily. Times like these it's almost crazy how much he looks like...

No, focus!

"It's good, I promise. Wanna see? Mama will have some." You take a bite of one of the triangles and make a show of smiling. "Mmm! So yummy! It's really tasty!"

"No!" Basils yells in response, his tiny tears now falling. Hangry isn't a good look on the little guy.

"Ahhh, we gotta get you something to eat, huh, bud."

"Jellies!" He blubbers, only barely understandable through his tantrum. Buddy the Maschiff jumps up, placing his front paws on Basil's feet, trying to get at the food, and Basil complies, shoving it down to the pup.

You sigh. "Alright."

Buddy re-enters his ball, still chewing the bread, and you take Basil from his high chair, depositing him in his stroller.

"We'll go to the market and get your good jelly, okay? Super duper fast, then we'll come home and have a feast."

Basil is still crying, but the promise of his good jelly seems to placate him somewhat.

It'll be fine anyway. The market is only a short walk from your apartment building, and you'll only be out for a few minutes. 

The journey there is easy. Basil's stroller is one of those fancy transforming models that's great for all kinds of terrain while also being pretty light. It helps that the market is all outdoors, too. Less helpful is the fact that the stalls are fairly narrowly placed beside one another. At least it feels that way with all the people around, but it isn't overly cumbersome to navigate.

"Jellies!" Basil starts to whine as you approach the stall that he's come to learn has his favorite snack. He starts making grabby hands towards the jars along the table, and you attempt to quietly stop him.

"Yup! They've got your jelly here. Once I pay, you can hold the jar, if you like. Sound good?"

"I pick, I pick!" Basil insists, arching his tiny body as best he can away from the stroller's restraining buckle.

"Hey now," You press a soft but firm hand against him, guiding him back to his seat. "I'll let you pick, but you have to be polite. Say please and thank you to the salesperson, kay?"

Your son huffs, squirming a bit more before collapsing against the seat. "I be good. I good." He grumbles, and you're finally able to unbuckle him and take him up in your arms.

"Okay now. Can you ask for what you want?" You give the salesperson a thankful smile as you speak to Basil. They seem willing to be patient with your little one.

"Jellies!!!" He cries gleefully.

"Jellies, what, bud?"

"Jellies, pease!!!"

"There you go... We're gonna get some oran berry jelly." You tell the salesperson, already reaching into your bag with the hand that isn't carrying Basil. "Remember, these are glass, so you gotta hold it gently."

Basil carefully (or as carefully as a nearly-two year old can) chooses a bright blue jar, holding it in both of his hands.

Gently, so as not to jostle Basil enough that he drops his prize, you rearrange him on your hip, freeing an arm to reach into your bag, so you can pay the shop keeper. 

That's when you hear it. Not particularly loud compared to the hum of the crowd, but clear as day anyway.

The sound of your name being called gives you pause. You look around. It's not uncommon for you to be recognized, but you're already on edge. Hopefully it's just a fan or something?

–

You heard him. From the way you stopped and looked around, hiking the kid up just a bit higher on your hip as you distractedly tried to find the source of his voice, it was obvious.

It isn't an overly crowded market, but there are definitely enough people milling around that quick travel isn't really feasible from where he stands, particularly if he wants to get closer.

He calls your name again, louder this time. Before it had almost been breathless, filled with surprise, hurt, delight, just a tumultuous storm of emotions tearing through his stomach at the sight of you, the sight of his little carbon copy in your arms. Now he's really trying to get your attention.

You pinpoint him, and Arven waves, his bulky form helping to differentiate him from the rest of the crowd.

He... He can't read your face. You look like a deerling caught in Flash. He watches as you quickly shuffle, taking your boy (his boy?) away. Are... Are you for real fleeing from him? He calls your name again, trying to move closer to your retreating form, but it's no use. He makes it to the stall where you were before. He's positive of it because you left the stroller behind, and judging by the yelling from the salesperson, you made off with some product without paying. It's a no-brainer for him to lay down the cash needed, assuaging the anger of the clerk. Arven also grabs the stroller, giving a nervous laugh about how forgetful you must be before he starts trekking with it in the direction that you fled.

Except. He quickly realizes that's not really gonna get him anywhere. He has no idea where you live. Yeah, he knows where you used to live, almost 3 years ago, but that was basically a shoebox, a place to store your supplies while out and about as a champ. No way you're there still. Not with a kid. Right?

He eventually takes a seat on a bench close to the market, keeping the stroller next to him. You've gotta come back for it soon, right? Even then though, he has no idea how long it might take you to come back. 

Once again, Arven desperately wishes you hadn't blocked him way back when. He pulls out his phone, hoping to shoot you a text, on the off-chance that maybe you unblocked him at some point maybe?

Me: Hi, Buddy!

is all he types before seeing the tell-tale red messaging, showing that the number is indeed still blocked. Ugh.

Fuck, maybe...maybe he could use a pay phone or something? Just to tell you where your stroller is. But are there even any pay phones anymore?

As it turns out, they do still exist! There's one just on the edge of the market, so Arven makes his way over, pulling out his phone to copy your number once he's in the booth.

Except.

That's not a Paldean area code he sees. It's Kalosian. Yes, it's your name as the contact, and it's your final, nasty message to him there in the texts, but....it's not your number. There's not even a call history that goes back that far for him to try and grab the number that he just can't seem to remember entirely. He used to have it memorized, once upon a time, the two of you having been the other's emergency contact for so long, so he knows he's not crazy. That number...

He realizes on a second glance that the number is affiliated with Bon Applintit. It's got the same starting numbers after the area code.

What the hell happened to--

"Arven!!!!" The cry of his name startles him out of the thought, but he tucks it away for later. There's something very, very off going on, beyond the kid and everything. Which also??? Kinda absolutely bonkers. He's not gonna lie to himself. He also can't think too hard about it.

"Arven!" Nemona pulls him from that dizzying train of thought, as well as the phone booth. "I've been sent to just, uh...grab this from you..." She tells him, awkwardly trying to work her way around him to grab at the stroller's handlebars. "Ya know... Mama and Basil need it and all." She laughs a bit uncomfortably, continuing her attempt to pry the pram from him.

"Basil?" He says out loud, the name punching him harder than any Hitmonchan. His fists clench tighter around the bars.

Nemona slaps a hand over her mouth, allowing Arven to angle the stroller away from her. "Were you not supposed to know? Ah, gosh darn it!"

"I mean--!" He starts defensively. "I guess?! I never knew about...about any of this!" He gesticulates wildly. "When was anyone gonna tell me about Basil, huh? What the hell, Nemona!?"

She gives him a strange look, her lips pursed and brows quirked. "You... You really had no idea?" She crosses her arms, studying Arven's expression. "Hold on."

Nemona takes out her phone and starts texting. Arven does his absolute best to be patient, but with every passing second he's growing more agitated. 

"Okay, listen! Someone has GOT to tell me what's going on!" He eventually bursts. "Who IS this kid? Why does she have him? Why does... I mean, why does the kid look like me? Everyone's been treating me like shit since I got here, and none of it makes any goddamn sense! If anyone cares to hear MY side of the story, she blocked ME! And to my knowledge it was just over a few missed calls! I thought she was just overreacting! I had no idea about any of this!" His anger over it all, over getting shunned by his friends years ago, over Clavell’s insults, comparing him to his father, it all bubbles over, and he’s letting it out on Nemona. 

She hushes him with a sound and a not-so-placating finger, not bothering to even look up as she texts with a single thumb. "Hold on, hold on, hold on..." The patronizing nature of it all pulls a huff from Arven, whose grip on the handles of the strollers is so strong his knuckles go white.

His friend locks the screen and looks back to him. Her gaze is steady and serious, in stark contrast to her typical jovial self.

"Okay. I believe you, amigo. You say you've got no idea what's going on? I'm sorry to hear that. I really, really wish I could just tell you everything. Or at least, what I think is everything? But this isn't really my place. Not my mankey, not my circus. I'm just the mankey's fun tia, y'know?" She tries to lighten the mood a bit, but it absolutely falls short. "But. For real, this isn't the kind of chisme I enjoy. Not when it involves any of you. I'm talking to her now." Nemona shakes the phone in her hand. "I'm gonna see if she's willing to hear you out."

"Hear me out? She was the one--"

"That isn't how anyone here knows the story, Arven. At least what she's been able to bring herself to tell of it. I don't think any of us can claim to know all the details, but do you think she'd lie to make you look bad? Really?"

That seems to give Arven pause. At least long enough for Nemona to check the latest message from you. She smiles.

"She's on her way to the Treasure Eatery and will meet with you there. Be sure to bring the stroller."

--

Arven makes it to the restaurant before you. It isn't really surprising, given your detour to the league building to drop Basil off with Nemona for a bit. He ought to thank his lucky stars for Nemona pleading his case to you, saying he seemed to be genuinely confused and distraught over the situation. Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered. This is...exhausting to think about. Facing him. Trying to figure out what he wants. Why he came.

You won't lie, your initial thoughts as you rushed home with Basil tucked tightly in your arms, shielding him from his father, were rather dark. Was Arven here to try and take him? Did he think he could use your baby as some kind of prop in his social media videos? People go crazy for dads after all.

But, no. If you're honest with yourself (like Nemona urged you to be) that's not the man you knew. You couldn't imagine him becoming someone like that either, especially if he didn't want to be a dad in the first place... Beyond that, if you think rationally for a moment, there isn't a court in the world that would order your toddler son to another country without you.

No, this...this will be safe. It will be scary. To see him again. But. There's no need to think there's danger. It will just be kind of scary. And you can deal with scary, if only for a few minutes. 

"Hey." Your voice sounds drained as you drop your bag on your side of the booth and follow behind it to sit. You want to look at him. Look him in the eye and ask him what his deal is, but you just can't summon that brand of bravery.

"Hey." His tone isn't really discernable; you can't guess what he's thinking. "I, uh...ordered your usual drink. Or...What you used to order? If that's cool?"

Sure enough, there on the tabletop is your go-to drink from the Treasure Eatery, a ring of condensation already formed at the base of the glass, dampening the flimsy cardboard of the disposable coaster.

"Oh." It surprises you, that small bit of thoughtfulness. "Thanks." You take the glass in both hands and sip, letting the frosty cold of it ground you before you finally look up to see him.

He's... He's so much like Basil, it makes a lump form in the back of your throat. The nose, the eyebrows, the bow of his lips. You've seen them all every day for almost two years now in the face of your little boy; things you noticed and adored, now mimicked before you. Beyond that, he's still Arven. Time hasn't changed him too terribly much. For an adult, it hasn't been too long, so it's not like he's suddenly grey and withered before you or something. The biggest difference is how he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail, the patchy stubble around his cheeks and chin. He's either growing it out to try something new or just hasn't bothered with a razor for a while.

"Hey." You finally say. Truth be told, if not for your drink, your throat would've gone dry just seeing him again.

"So..." He starts, leading.

"So...you're back."

"Uh. Yeah. The plan was to spend the weekend clearing out my old storage....and...head back to Lumiose..."

"'The plan was?'" You ask.

"W-Well, I mean... I. I don't think I can just go back now, can I?"

You tense. Why did that feel like an attack? "I don't see why not. You didn't seem to think it was important to, you know, come back before now. What makes you think you have to stay?" Your tone comes off colder, more callous, than your aching heart would otherwise reveal, and it does its job, egging Arven onto frustration.

"I saw Clavell with Basil." He starts, pausing when he notices your flinch at the name. "Then I saw him with you. And... I mean..."

"Oh, so you saw him and now suddenly you care?" You ask, venom dripping more than you'd care to admit.

"What are you saying?!" He grates, volume only as loud as public decorum would allow in the bustling restaurant. "You... You have to be kidding, right? Of course I care! There's... There's a whole kid! Right? Where did he come from, huh? Cuz, like... Those don't just appear! And he's yours, right? He's gotta be! Like, obviously I see my...resemblance, but I see you in him, too!" That surprises you. No one ever found your features in Basil anymore, save for your mom, who made an off-handed comment once or twice about your eye shape or something.

Arven takes your silence as reason to continue "I mean... I've seen my photos from a young age... I..." His anger fizzles out into confusion as he goes on. "I don't want to make assumptions about...about us or what we were? But...looking at that kid, it's gotta be, right? That it was me? That I'm..." He can't say it out loud. "But why? Why didn't you say something? Why did you hide something like that? Cuz, like... I mean...even...even if he were someone else's... I mean, why wouldn't you have said something?"

"Hide it?!" The accusation shocks you into a response. "I never hid anything! I tried telling you for ages, back when you actually picked up the damn phone! You forced me into having to text you about my son! Then you blocked me! I have the receipts, Arven. I don't know what kind of delusion you've got going on in that head of yours, but I never hid my boy from you until I was given reason to! Why would I go out of my way to force a child upon a man who couldn't acknowledge him? Why wouldn't I keep my son safe from someone who didn't have the decency to be there for him? For me?"

Your tone has risen to a point where a few of the surrounding tables have hushed to listen in, and Arven can tell that prying eyes and ears are now on you both. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, an attempt to steady himself, keep from getting more heated in public. 

"Bud." He begins, the old nickname hitting you like a sucker punch. "I never knew. I don't know what happened there, but I promise. I promise on Mabosstiff's life that I had no clue about any of this. I think there had to have been some kinda mix up..." You watch as cogs turn in his head. "I think... I'm thinking maybe something happened with my phone." He says, pulling the device from his pocket. "Like... Lemme just try and make this clear from my end. Okay? I got this text from you..." He starts, tapping the screen. "It was kinda mean, and when I tried to respond, I was blocked." He holds up the conversation for you to read.

>Hey! Sorry we keep missing each other lately! I hope things are okay? Are you staying warm? It's getting kinda cold here.

>can we not do this?

>Not do what?

>"This" i'm getting real fuckin tired of you bailing on me all the time now that your some hot shot kalosian celebrity guy

>Whoa. Where is this even coming from??

>you kno exactly where its coming from, arven. Youve been super shitty to me since you left paldea and it really hurts my feelings.

>I'm sorry? I've been busy here. It's been a lot getting used to a whole new place and a whole new language. I thought you understood that. I really am sorry though.

>y'know what? I dont really care at this point. Ive had enough waiting around for you to call me or text me back. there are guys here who can do better by me

>[One Missed Call]

>[One Missed Call]

>[One Missed Call]

>Are you being serious right now? You can't be. This is a joke?

>[One Missed Call]

>[The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected and is no longer in service.]

Your face pales and stomach sinks as you read it. "Arven, I--"

"I just noticed earlier when I tried calling you about the stroller. That isn't even your number. It's Kalosian. It's... I think it's affiliated with my company? I can't be sure yet, but..." He locks the screen and puts his phone down. "I know now that you never sent those messages, and that somehow I lost everything related to your contact. So...whatever you might've sent...it isn't here. I couldn't have seen it."

With a nearly shaking hand, you grab his phone and open it back up, still remembering his old passcode (Mabosstiff's Pokedex number). "Hold on..." You absolutely sent a message. Whether it was deleted or not... You check his blocked numbers, knowing that on your end, you've been blocked since back when you first told him about the pregnancy. "Yup..." You show him the screen. There among several spam numbers was your own. "You blocked me."

Arven opens his mouth to argue. "Or, I guess," You continue before he has a chance to interrupt. "I was blocked... somehow? I still... I don't see how this could have happened..." You set the phone down and fish out your own from your bag. "Here." It only takes a moment to pull up your old conversations. "You can read for yourself what I tried to tell you."

>Hey! I know this isn't ideal, and I really would have rather said it in person or over a face call or even just a regular call, but I think you need to know, and I'm having a really hard time verbalizing it to you. I'm sorry to do it this way, but it's better to say it now than not at all, right?

>I'm pregnant, and it's yours.

>I'm so, so, SO sorry! I promise I didn't mean for it to happen like this, and I'm not trying to like…baby trap you or something. I swear! You're my best friend in the whole world, and I'm so happy that you can go and live your dream in Kalos right now. But I just feel like you should know? Like you should have a say in what happens here? I'd love to talk to you. Do...do you want to do this? Because....well if you're willing I'd want to try this. With you. But I also know that you're living your dream right now, and I don't want to get in the way of that! I want you to be able to really embrace this new journey you're taking and learn and grow and do wonderful things! But I just wanted you to know, you know? Please don't hate me. Just give me a call when you have a minute, and we can figure this out. Okay?

. Then after several months, you’d sent a picture. Just a simple selfie of you, looking exhausted beyond belief, hair tamped down to your head with sweat, but still smiling. In your arms is a tiny bundle with a little purple hat, face looking squished and wrinkly and perfect. Arven knows exactly what he’s looking at before he’s read your final message.

>He's here. I don't know if you care, necessarily? But... I love him so much, and I don't understand how you couldn't, so I thought I should share.

You watch as Arven tears up, holding your phone like a tiny, precious creature. "I never knew. I... I swear I didn't." He swallows. "My...my team... They all have access to my phone. Something must've... Someone, I guess..." He shudders then looks to you, resolute. "I'll figure it out. But." Arven looks at your hand on the table then flexes his own, curling and uncurling it from a fist. "I... I wanted to know. I should've known. I'm so sorry this happened..."

"Me too..." The anger and fear and sadness you had churning in your gut this whole time slowly begins to still. You don't know how to feel exactly about the misunderstanding, but you know Arven. You know he isn't lying to you, and to hear him apologize for all of this... It's like a weight off of your soul.

Arven pauses, gathering himself then stares you in the eye. "I was supposed to leave tomorrow, head back. Fuck that. I need to be here. I need to see him.”

It's another punch to the gut, and on instinct, you respond. "No."

[sgiandubh]

Good morning to you...as always, this person is very indignant and enraged.

https://www.tumblr.com/maximumwobblerbanditdonut/748583730081333248/the-unexpected-guests?source=share

Dear (returning) Mythomaniac Anon,

Sorry for the delay and see below why. Well, then: how was that, at their end of the rope, across the street?

I know, I am quoting BIF (that petty, nasty, condescending woman), their Main Intellectual Luminary (LOL for years), but see how easy it is to boomerang anything?

And I will even suit myself and quote her some more, lookie here:

I am not even sorry. Karma is a bitch, like that and it seems to have backfired badly on BIF's comadre, 'Max'. You see, I can immediately tell when people who have NO idea about what LAW really is, start talking about it. They will always be oh so damn literal and oh so damn mechanical in their 'reasonings'. I mean, if law were to be read as is, why would we even bother going to law school, right? Why not have AI sort it out, literally and mechanically, too (and boy does 'Max' sound like an android when she starts droning her maximum wobbling bullshit)? You see, in law, it's never enough to copy/paste something, because this is about people, money and interests, being those individual or collective. Timelines are important (and indispensable in any legal approach), but never enough: what makes the difference is always the particular context and the interpretation of facts - that is, by the way, called jurisprudence, when it becomes a legally binding precedent (not our modest case, here), in common law system countries (the UK, the US) or a complementary source of law, like in Roman/Civil law systems, such as the French and Romanian ones, which I know best. There is a technical distinction between those two concepts (legally binding precedent and complementary source of law) and I once passed a whole year written exam in Public French Law with honors, picking this exact topic, but I won't bother you with it, Anon. In a nutshell, tread carefully when you open that droning mouth and leave no stone unturned, if possible. Otherwise, you'd make a fool out of yourself, with bullshit like this:

There is no Midhope Distillery Company Ltd, you fool. There once was the Midhope Castle Distillery Ltd, as I have abundantly shown in not one, but two posts. It did not 'change its name' in 2023, it was dissolved by voluntary write-off (third time might be a charm, across the street, maybe the coin would drop?). And one more time, for you Mordor people in the back: there is no way to know who the shareholders of a given company are, based on the Company House records, nor the amount of their participation. This is confidential information, as shown also in the Planning Proposal - once more, I repost the screenshot:

' The Business Plan, submitted (...) under Private and Confidential cover, provides background information on the applicant'. Including, but not limited to, the existing investors/shareholders - it is essential to show the local authorities your business project is not a whim or a dream.

She also writes confidently stuff like:

That is simply not true. As I have also shown in my last post, Outlander is explicitly mentioned in both the first and the revised Planning Proposals, as a strong argument for the entire business project. It may serve to remember that one of the elements justifying it was to provide the 20k seasonal visitors of the Midhope Castle Grounds an opportunity to access the (vastly) improved interior of the castle, along with a whisky related experience/discovery activity, accommodation and high-end dining opportunity. Again, I repost the screenshot, because those people are mendacious by nature and it is perhaps the only way to show them some facts (not useless factoids):

That being said, we can speculate and deduct a simple correlation between a company actively looking for investors to support their now vastly revised, ten-year project and an actor-cum-entrepreneur who might be interested/already involved in that project. Unless he'd make a formal announcement himself, at some point in time, there is no way to confirm. 'Max' should perhaps learn to water down her confident tone, sometimes, especially when it is obvious she did not look at the documents herself, used only Google in the arrogant and foolish hope 'those tinhat shippers are stupid' and has 0 (zero) legal expertise.

This whole thing might be pending approval, but let's not forget the first Planning Statement was approved back in 2020 (which is a good starting point), that they have secured a business partnership with the owner of the land, Lord Hope (the 4th Marquess of Linlithgow) and that as far as I could read during those past two days, all the reports seem ok, at least up until this point in time. I see no reason why they wouldn't meet and talk about it: on which planet is that such a big deal and on which planet could that be construed as 'conflict of interest' (another one of 'Max's' arguments), given the organic link between OL and Midhope, since 2013?

I also have made a hasty mistake, in my previous post, when dealing with Ken Robertson's participation to the project. He continued to be involved, as my penned timeline shows, in both Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd, as a Director, continuously from May 2017 until their dissolution, in December 2022. Again, it's all on the timeline - see what I just did, here? LOL for a century and a half.

And for Marple's 'Sorry' clip, I have the perfect reply. Especially the chorus, of course - ignore the rest, it's about some Seventies playboy, quite an Alternate Universe from hers:

I will stop now, Anon. With the MPC Gala just round the corner, all the eyes will be on that one. This drama will probably draw to a fizzled denouement, as they always do, in this fandom. But I will follow that business project and report from time to time. I bet the farm we'll have news, rather sooner than later.

[lxmelle]

Headcannon alert!

In the night parade of a hundred demons, Gojo was fighting with Miguel, the strongest from his continent:

Can I also just add that the animation is fiiiiinnneeee 👌🏼 AF - gets my heart going and I knew I recognised the fight scene movements - it was from Ip Man. 💘

Oh be still my heart.

Anyway, sorry, back on topic!

We know Gojo has done the following:

(Image unashamedly stole from reddit)

Which leads me to surmise that he probably really really hates the idea of anything messing with his skills/technique, and possibly affecting his impenetrable defences - limitless.

This circles back to isolating himself and how this comes round to backfire on the poor man.

It goes to show how a significant event, like losing to Toji, how it is internalised and processed, greatly affects people, whether they categorise or recognise it as trauma or not. Combined with Geto defecting, it’s understandable how Gojo effectively seals himself in a coffin of sorts. They both dealt with it in differing ways, but end up sacrificing a part of themselves in the process.

Back to Miguel.

Gojo is irritated. He is MAD.

He just blasts away the giant curse without bothering about anything. He just focuses on Miguel. If I’m not mistaken, we rarely see him like this. Sparring, having a strong opponent has been... fun for him? Either that, or he goes into extreme dominance mode. Engaging with multiple targets.

There source of his irritation that even ichiji comments something? It goes without saying that the whole issue with Geto sparking war would be getting to him, too. Especially considering the build up and entire situation where forces are all at two locations and Geto is scheming something he had just become aware of.

AND. This is satosugu indulgent: He’s possibly annoyed that Geto had this strong dude by his side all this while, whom he confided in, to provide INTEL AGAINST HIM, no less!

Making light of a really dark situation here, and I’m sorry (not really) but a jealous Gojo tickles me. Did that also make him a bit irritated? That Geto had specifically found someone to target him? Did he feel insulted that he was replaced by someone else - weaker, no less?

Yes, we are now entering pure headcanon indulgence. In my SatoSugu head, Gojo is irritated that Miguel could’ve been sparring with Geto. This man is buff and strong, and has been around Geto for an unknown duration of time. We know Geto likes sparring and he is goooood at it. Did geto change? Can he still trust Geto not to kill any of the young sorcerers? (Yes, Yuta included. Because we can see Geto was battling within himself about following through, and doing so would mean a loss of his humanity in favour of strength - something not really in his nature - he nevertheless tries and we know how it ends when someone in the verse strays from themselves...).

I digress. Gojo probably also wanted to just go see Geto already, but dreading it at the same time. They both were under no illusions about how it was going to end, hence the sombre nature of the anime.

This scene always hurts when I see it… Side note: I did always feel like Gojo in jjk 0 (manga-only) was a little cold and to aloof compared to when Gege’s well into the series. I wonder what Gege would change if he rewrote/redrew it? Not that he will, ofc.

Whatever it was, I’m just going to allow myself a small pleasure in that maybe the idea of Geto and Miguel in an alliance ruffled his feathers a little. And then Miguel lets slip that “if I die I’ll curse you, Geto” - and I’m left wondering about the significance of that, if anything, whether it provided context to Gojo or the reader.

And in the aftermath of it all, Gojo recognised Miguel’s strength, utilising him for Yuta’s growth (so in a way Geto and Gojo train him?!? [yes I am hopelessly deep in satosugu shipping]) and I guess it was a link to Geto too. Gojo seemed to have no harsh feelings towards Miguel. Entrusting him with Yuta... and maybe also regarded him as someone who was important to his friend (Geto)...

They became his family, after all.

In light of the most recent leaked chapter - I hope Miguel makes it - and that we also get blessed with some crumbs in the form of flashbacks... it would be nice to see a bit more backstory.

[humbledragon669]

S2E2 - The Clue Write Up P1 - Land of Uz (2500 BC) and London (Present Day) up to the credits

Ooh it’s been a while since got to use an in-screen caption as one of the headers and I am delighted to be able to do it again! I may well just use the same two headers as we switch between the two time periods in this episode, just for simplicity. Sue me.

There’s a tiny detail that’s been applied to this opening shot that I absolutely love – the video here has had an of effect applied to it to give it a vintage film feel. Sorry, that’s as close as I come to describing it with any sort of eloquence – I’m referring to the “fake” black marks and scratches that appear on the image briefly (you can see a couple on the header above). It doesn’t last long (only until Crawley finishes his first line), but I think this subtle little effect sets us very firmly in a cinematic (cinematographic?) context. I also feel like the colouring of the image has been altered for the same purpose – it puts me in mind of one of those historical films from the 50s and 60s, like Ben Hur and Spartacus (which I suspect is probably the whole point).

There’s something else interesting about Crawley’s appearance in this scene – his sunglasses. Cast your mind back to episode 3 in the first season (Hard Times), in which we saw him appearing without sunglasses all the way up to (and including) 33AD. I did comment on the appearance of the sunglasses in the 42AD scene in the write up for it:

I’m not sure I actually find this sudden appearance of sunglasses some 2500 years earlier all that interesting. There’s a part of me that feels that they have probably been included here because we, as an audience, have come to expect Crawley/Crowley’s costume to include a pair of stylised sunglasses by this point. I’d actually be strangely satisfied with that if it was the case – I feel like the reason behind his choosing to wear them could be so much more interesting if this was simply a “continuity error”.

Just wanted to include this because I am thrilled Aziraphale finally gets a really bad-ass entrance. How many times have we seen Crowley sauntering his way into a scene, looking like the coolest thing on Earth (and knowing it)? So glad the angel gets a turn at that here. That said. Why exactly is it that Aziraphale has happened to show up at this place and time? As we will come to find out shortly, Crawley is actually acting with Heaven’s authority so I don’t think the angel would have been sent there. It would present an interesting parallel to Crowley’s supposed knack of knowing when the angel is in trouble, but also resurfaces the suggestion about them being aware of the other’s whereabouts more often than not. I have to say, based on the conversation between them here, that seems unlikely – this exchange feels nothing but businesslike to me, cold even. Aziraphale even goes so far as to apologise (unapologetically) for having to do his job. We do learn that it has been about 500 years since they’ve seen each other, which is a nice little piece of backstory to have. I also consider it interesting to see Crowley providing a prompt to Aziraphale on how to complete his task, which provides a loose mirror parallel to what we saw Before the Beginning, that time with Aziraphale prompting his newfound friend that the incantations (for want of a better word) were not complete.

Side note: don’t you just love those little goats for staying exactly where they’ve been put? Pretty sure most animals would have scarpered extremely quickly when a huge flaming ball appeared above them, never mind having another being literally appearing from thin air in a really spiky portal of light. They must be some very calm goats.

Given the light show that Aziraphale has brought with him to make an imposing entrance on a demon, I’m pretty impressed with the restraint Crawley shows when he responds here – I mean he’s not exactly known for his patience is he? I also wonder if Aziraphale’s comment about jokes is meant to be a throwback to Hastur’s vehemence that he doesn’t like them, but the line is so throw-away that I can’t see what relevance it would add at this point. What I do find interesting is that, now we’re no longer in the “present day” of this season, we see Aziraphale struggling with his preconceived notions of right/good and wrong/evil. It’s something we saw quite a lot of in the first season, in both historical and “present” timelines. In the second season though, what with Aziraphale no longer working for Heaven, we tend to see it a lot less. We saw it in the first episode in the Before the Beginning segment, and we’ll see it again in the coming episodes, but predominantly in the historical scenes. There’s something about the fact that Aziraphale appears less conflicted about morality once he has been removed from the morality-defining authority, become more connected to humanity, and is found to be exercising his free will that I find deeply profound. No wonder the poor guy took 6000 years to realise that being Good isn’t just about following orders, especially when you consider that instruction is tied to his very existence. That whole thing is a big concept, and I struggled to put it into any words that made sense, so I hope I’ve at least been kind of clear. Basically, what I wanted to say was that I love that the historical scenes are being used as a way to remind us of the character development that Aziraphale has gone through over the millennia – they show us where he came from. And it’s not just the angel that gets this treatment:

We haven’t seen this version of Crawley/Crowley for quite a while, have we? The one that takes such delight in his mischief. And in case you missed it, we really should have known what he was up to – you can see two birds taking flight in the background behind his head, with an accompanying “caw” to draw attention to their presence.

I’m including that gif for no other reason that I find it Muriel’s impersonation of a goose adorable. I do wonder what exactly would have been deemed important though, if Job’s farm, camels, goat, oxen, children, and geese are all disposable. I’m not going to go into the underlying subtext of the bet that has been made between God and Satan here – the story itself is little changed from its original biblical source so I feel like it’s a bit out of scope for an episode write up. What is interesting to see is that the item on the list that Aziraphale balks at is the same as the one that Crowley has previously demonstrated (on more than one occasion) is his “line in the sand” for unacceptable acts – killing children. This will also be the first time, chronologically, that we see Aziraphale take his doubts to other angelic beings (some of whom are his superiors). I’m assuming his way of doing things is a little more diplomatic than Crowley’s was when he was in his angelic state, even if it is just as (un)fruitful.

This attitude towards Sitis and Job keeping their existing children rather than having them replaced with new ones says a lot about the Heavenly standard when it comes to understanding humanity and its eccentricities; his reasoning here being that it shouldn’t matter if Job’s existing children are murdered senselessly, as long as they’re replaced with an equal (or greater) number of different children. There is no appreciation of the complexities behind human relationships, desires, or emotions. I feel like it makes the fact that both Gabriel and Michael claim to understand the difference between the subtle technical differences between “killing someone” and “not stopping someone from killing someone” pretty ironic, particularly when they are taking advantage of this technicality to maintain their stance of being the good guys. And all said in such a convincing (and convinced) tone. Gabriel’s stance really only makes sense when you take it out of humanity’s context, which I think is why it’s just not something Aziraphale would ever be comfortable with.

Alright, we’ve jumped back into the present day to find Aziraphale apparently deep in thought about something. My take on it, and I think it’s a fairly common one, is that the whole Job sequence up to this point is a flashback as seen through Aziraphale’s eyes. (Side note: a cash register ringing noise is an interesting sound effect to employ to highlight the placards here, seeing as we all know the angel never willingly sells a book) There are a couple of things I picked up on during this delightful little scene, the first of which is this line:

AZIRAPHALE: I just didn’t see you coming.

I don’t think it would be a huge leap of faith to say that this line is probably not meant to be limited to this scene, but to Gabriel’s appearance on the whole. I don’t think it’s a huge revelation, I just love that it’s dropped in there so casually. And just as a quick note, I had previously wondered where Gabriel had been that he was able to sneak up on Aziraphale so easily, but it turns out that he would have been in plain sight as he approached the desk:

I love the way Aziraphale is bothered that somebody is bringing order to his chaos. It’s my belief that those books are likely arranged in such a way that only he knows how to find anything. After all, customers can’t buy books if they can’t find them, can they? The idea that somebody might actually be bringing some order to that must be distressing. It’s alright though, seeing as nobody will ever find anything they’re looking for using Gabriel’s sorting system anyway.

We also have the first reference to the Buddy Holly song “Everyday” in this scene. I’m really pleased that it was included in the second season – apparently it was something Terry was really keen to use as a device in the first season. The script book even includes stage directions that the soundtrack for most of the end credits should be stylised versions of the song. The story goes that when David Arnold presented his version of the theme tune for the first season, it was deemed to be so appropriate that the “Everyday” theme was dropped. I do absolutely love the theme tune we got. I also love that “Everyday” was brought back in for the second season. Both things can be true 😊

Last point of interest for this scene. The book that Jim reads from is “A Tale of Two Cities”. I will confess I haven’t read it, and used Wikipedia to summarise the plot, which as I understand it revolves around a central character who is compelled to disassociate himself from the wrongdoings of his family. There’s a drunken man that testifies on behalf of the main character and helps to get him acquitted of a crime. There’s a trip to Paris in 1792 that sees the main character imprisoned in the Bastille and the same man that helped acquit the main character travels to Paris in 1793 in an attempt to rescue him. There’s also a character called Gabelle, whose request for assistance in a prison escape leads to the capture of the main character.

It’s vague I’ll grant you, and I am sure I have missed a lot of the finer plot points. With that said, I don’t think I’d be alone in feeling like there are more than a few similarities to the 1793 Paris scene from Hard Times. Paris, the year, a prison rescue, and that name that’s awfully similar to Gabriel… It makes me wonder if this might be a Clue as to Aziraphale’s true purpose in Paris, and I suspect there might be a nice little project here to look at parallels between the novel and the 1793 storyline, but that would probably involve reading the original novel. In case you had missed it, time is not something I have a lot of right now, and classics bore the living shit out of me so it’s not something I can commit to so if anybody wants to take up that mantel, please feel free.

Don’t you just love that this is the first time we actually see Crowley sleeping in the show at all? There was a scene that didn’t make it to the final cut in the first season that saw him sleeping (in a bed/against a wall/on the ceiling), and one from just after he got out of bed. There is also explicit mention of his love of sleep in the book and we as a fandom have taken that cannon well and truly to heart. Yet this is the first confirmation we have in the show that he does in fact sleep. It’s a nice little touch for us to have – there really is no denying that this demon sleeps from this point on.

I made a note of Michael referring to Aziraphale as a “former angel” at the end of the first episode, and commented on how this feels like an inaccuracy. Interestingly Crowley makes an identical inaccuracy here in referring to himself as a “former demon”. To recap:

I feel the same way about Crowley and his status. I also note that Shax doesn’t correct his use of the past tense, but perhaps that’s because she’s confused at his use of sarcasm. What’s also of note is that she appears not to have any knowledge that Beelzebub and Crowley have already discussed the matter of Gabriel, likely because the former is trying to keep that under wraps. It makes me wonder if Crowley might have noticed that discrepancy had the discussion not turned to talk about the miracle that was performed in the bookshop the night before. And now we can briefly turn to the controversy that I raised from the last episode about whether Crowley actually had anything to do with said miracle:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could have performed.

So from her perspective, it looks like she believes Gabriel (as Supreme Archangel) performed the miracle himself. My theory about Crowley not playing his part in it gets pretty shaky at this point, because Aziraphale supposedly wouldn’t have been able to perform a miracle of that strength on his own. There is a “but” here. Or rather, an “unless”. What if Gabriel contributed to the miracle that was performed, but unknowingly? Possibly even unwillingly? His power, either alone or being added to that of another, might explain the colouration of the plume we see originating from the bookshop on the globe at the end of the episode. Yeah, that’s right, I’m not dropping this theory yet! It’s such a shame we don’t see any other example of plumes, because that would really either lend weight to it or completely discredit it. Shax clearly doesn’t think much of Crowley’s claim to the miracle regardless – she doesn’t even respond to him when he offers the possibility that it was him that did it.

It's also notable that Crowley makes no protestations about Shax’s label of “friend” when referring to Aziraphale. Unfortunately, we don’t get to see his face when she says it, but we do see that it’s unchanged when the close up returns to him. I’m not saying this is a denial of his true feelings, merely pointing out that this would have been hotly refuted prior to the body switch incident. Whether Crowley doesn’t care that Hell knows about his “friendship” or just can’t be bothered to argue isn’t clear at this point. What is clear, is that Shax’s threats are convincing enough that the plants are frightened – you can see (and hear) them shaking in the background:

I’m sure Crowley probably starts the car in a pass-agg response to his being threatened, but there’s a big part of me that believes he really does it because Shax has had the audacity to frighten his beloved plants. I don’t have any evidence to suggest that’s the case, but I won’t be swayed on that regardless. As a final point of note: this will be the second time Crowley has been offered the “opportunity” to help Hell and refused. He clearly has no interest in helping them – his bridges are well and truly burned as far as he’s concerned.

And with that, we’ve arrived at the credits, which feels like an excellent place to wrap this part up. I don’t think this instalment has been quite as controversial as the last one but as ever: questions, comments, discussion, always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊

[wutheringmights]

Thank your for the chapter. This is me submitting my request for director's commentary.

Sorry this is very late.

But, you know.

*gestures wildly at the state of the world*

This is the first chapter in a long time where I was actively having fun writing more than 30% of it. Writing doesn’t always have to be “fun” for me to write it, but spending most of this year stuck on two chapters I absolutely hated did a number on me. 

I still didn’t get to everything I wanted in this chapter; I have been trying to get to the fallout for the Knights of Hyrule encounter for most of this year now (jfc!), but I’ve had to expand the plot points leading up to it. This entire Castle Town arc was planned to be one chapter. Past Frankie was insane for thinking that was possible. 

Pacing-wise, this chapter really did need to be on its own. The important plot points needed their own space to breathe; trying to shove all of this and the contents of the next chapter into one would have led to a lot of things being overshadowed. So even though everything is still moving along relatively slowly, the pacing is somewhat on purpose this time. 

As previously stated on this blog, I sorely neglected updating AO3 with the new chapter total. There is 6 chapters left (5 plot chapters, then an epilogue). Rest easy. This story will take me a while longer yet to complete. 

That being said, don’t be too surprised if I keep budgeting in more chapters. But if this story needs more than 40 chapters, I will abscond from society and become a sheep herder in, like, Iceland.  

(Sorry to front-load the housekeeping information; I usually keep this stuff for the end,  all of this provides context for my first bit about the actual chapter.) 

I am so happy that pre-heart connection stuff with Proxi got its own chapter, as opposed to being included with the post-connection drama of how Link starts clawing his way out of his depression. 

I mentioned last chapter that everything with the first Proxi meeting was an utter failure to me. While this chapter doesn’t erase the problems of the former, it nonetheless is an improvement and more in-line with how I wanted this Proxi storyline to go. 

Link’s depression baths is 100% me projecting-- I had a season of my life where everything in my life kinda fell apart and I became extremely depressed and anxious. One of my coping mechanisms was to constantly take showers. Like Link, I got up to around four showers a day before I was told to knock it off for the sake of the water bill. 

Depression causing a lack of hygiene and self-care is fairly well-represented in media at this point. I relate way more to depression causing a spurt of “good” habits (that are just maladaptive coping mechanisms in their own right) more, and I want to include more of them into my writing. Link seems like the kind of guy who would overcompensate like that too. 

The events of the chapter were condensed from my original vision. The party and the fireworks were going to be two separate incidents, but I wanted to cut down on the bulk of writing each chapter requires of me (more on this later). Luckily, the original idea for the fireworks also included celebrating a holiday (New Years), so the change was easy to pull off. 

I did lose an aspect of that scene I really liked though: Link knowing he was experiencing a trigger deciding to hide in his cellar, all the while congratulating himself for reacting normally while Proxi is like hiding in a cellar isn’t coping, Link!!!!

Fireworks being a trigger is a bit of a cliche, and a part of me really wishes I found something more unique to trigger Link with. But fireworks is a really effective shorthand, partly because it’s so prevalent in real life, and partly because contrasting a celebratory activity with war trauma is so evocative. 

It’s also very silly how significant events in Link’s life keep coinciding with holidays and birthdays. I want to acknowledge both for the sake of world building, but going through the effort of developing them is only worth it if there’s a plot point attached.

But who hasn’t had moments of great revelations while at the family Thanksgiving party?

I like the idea of various holidays/feasts in Hyrule having different levels of importance depending on your tribe or what region you live in, as well as them being celebrated differently depending on your culture. 

Both the Sheikah and the Hylians would place heavy significance on the feast since Hylia is one of their main goddesses, but they would be celebrated differently. I brushed a bit on the idea of the religious ceremonies being different, but I cut back on sharing more of my ideas for the specific celebrations. 

Very specifically, I wanted the Sheikah to have a tradition of performing theatrical plays of significant cultural moments (basically a kabuki-theater version of a nativity play) (can you tell I was raised catholic?). 

I have plans to do something involving a kabuki play next chapter, so I won’t elaborate more on what the play was supposed to be. However, the play did get cut because I planted Link in the banquet hall with no care to move him from that spot. 

I like the idea of moms who are flawed moms in really normal ways. The way Ayane’s mother is very sweet to Link while having these rigid standards for Ayane is very real to life, in part because it’s based on how a lot of mothers I know act to their child’s friends versus their actual child. 

In a similar vein, I’m also fascinated by mothers who fail their children in such specific ways that it would only be a failure to their child-- like a mother giving too much independence to a child who needs more help, etc. That’s my design for these slow (and hopefully subtle) reveals of how Link struggles with his mother’s memory. On one hand, it’s obvious that he was made to feel like a failure of a child, and he probably knows that was wrong of her. On the other, she was a good parent overall and she’s dead. If you have never experienced that particular cocktail of guilt, let me just say that it messes you up. 

The kids who were doing the snowball fight are Ayane’s friends, which is why one of them remarked that Link was going to yell at them again (see: when Link yelled at Ayane the first time he picked her up from school). Katsuki is the only friend of Ayane’s I’ve consistently named-dropped, so I hope that cued you in to who these kids were.

Speaking of which: I stole that name from Bakugo from My Hero Academia. I was watching the show at the time, and I like the character. Ergo, I stole his name.

Link being very aware that he had been triggered during the fireworks show-- I have a very specific gripe about the way people write PTSD that bleeds through this sequence that I cannot explain in a sentence or two. But what’s important is that I have experienced that moment when your body is triggered but your brain isn’t-- so you can start to feel yourself freaking out while in your mind you know there is no threat, yet the body’s reaction starts to cloud your mind, causing a spiral of anxiety and panic. 

Proxi visiting the fairy fountain in Kakariko is one of my favorite scenes. I just like how simple it is, and how it gives a glimpse into what Proxi’s life is like outside of Link.

I did momentarily freak out after posting because I was worried I didn’t make it clear before this chapter that while there is magic lingering at the fountain it can’t heal. But no one has mentioned it yet, so I think I’m safe to wait until a future chapter to clarify that.

Fairies being too small to have more than one emotion is of course taken from Peter Pan. As a long-time lover of fairies (my childhood hyperfixation), it’s a whimsical idea that I just adore. I originally wanted to use that idea as justification for Proxi mirroring Link’s emotions without Link mirroring hers. 

There would be scenes where he is utterly calm while she’s freaking out or crying because he’s good at covering his feelings, but she can’t. I thought this would rid her of too much agency, so I changed it to a mutual sharing of emotions so that Proxi has more space to her own person while still being his “translator.”

I also like the idea of Link being able to gather the ability to talk, but only in relation to comforting Proxi. That’s development, baby. 

I do wish I rewrote that last scene where he feels Proxi’s joy for the first time, as I really like the idea that he would feel a sense of helplessness and horror to be controlled by another person like that. What’s there now is fine, but it could be better.

Now, onto the present-day section: 

It is very, very obvious that I meant to end the last chapter with that conversation between Warriors and Lincoln. Like I said, the original version really sucked (or at least, my original prose describing what the Chain’s arrival at the castle was like). It makes more sense for Lincoln to drop the information about Lionel in the same chapter Lionel is name-dropped.

Lionel was originally going to be Lincoln’s name, but I picked Lincoln since it has the more obvious tie to the Link-Linkle naming pattern. 

Also, this chapter includes a much needed discussion about the ethics of blaming all of the nation’s problems on a single ethnic group. On one hand, it is stupidly effective to utilize bigotry to gather power, and it’s a rhetorical technique even a more morally-upstanding Warriors would use. On the other hand, that’s an objectively terrible thing to do oh my god. 

So I kinda had to go in and cover my bases of having the characters talk and acknowledge what the implications of Warriors’s plan is. The big glaring issue of this conversation is that it also implicates Lincoln and rids him of his moral superiority. 

Personally, I kinda struggle to think of a real-world equivalent to the dynamic I established in the story, where the institution of the Sheikah does a lot of harm while the people within the institution are experiencing the social-consequences of being associated with it. The best I can come up with is Mormoms. 

Either way, I live in fear someone is going to tell me that this is actually about an underprivileged group I am not aware of currently, and I am contributing to their oppression by not critically analyzing Link and Lincoln’s plans correctly. Which would be a valid criticism to make, but one I could avoid if I had just worked out in advance what the hell is this is an accidental allegory for, educated myself, and then fixed the issue. 

If you guys can think of something, let me know so that I can get started on educating myself and such.

The Castle Town arc’s recurring theme is just bureaucracy, which does not make for exciting storytelling. But I do think it’s fitting for Warriors, who used to benefit from the system, to realize all the ways it’s not made to actually help people. I also think he’s the kind of person to realize he doesn’t have the time or ability to rehaul it entirely and has to settle on trying to work within it.

I can finally reveal my “Midna is a fantastic public servant” agenda. My girl was explicitly stated to be a good and dedicated ruler in Twilight Princess, and I will not let anyone else forget it. 

I really wish that this was more of an ensemble story so that I can write about Hyrule and Sky’s adventures in the Castle Town nightlife

If there is one thing I don’t really like about this chapter, it’s the sequence from Warriors talking to Lana about Cia to the end of Icarius’s capture. Reading it back, it really comes off as very corny and very carelessly written.

I initially planned for Icarius to be captured during the bell ringing in the lead up to Warriors trying to draw the Master Sword

I was imagining a scene where they are watching the news about the invasion be announced and, as Warriors is cursing the bad luck of it all, Spirit would just scrunch his brow and say, “Captain.” And Warriors, who is unfortunately drift compatible with him, would be like “go ahead.” And then Spirit would motion for Linkle to follow, and the two of them would reappear after the Master Sword rejected Warriors with Icarius already tied up.

The problem was that would block Spirit off from understanding the whole Master Sword rejection thing, and I really needed him to carve up Warriors’s hand. 

So I punted this whole ordeal with Icarius off to another chapter, and I have been scrambling trying to find another spot for him.

Ultimately, I do think this worked out because I have no idea what the hell the would have done with Icarius during the networking scenes.

After being disappointed with how this version of the capture scene turned out, I was very tempted to cut it and just have Spirit and Linkle haul Icarius into Warriors’s office, but I didn’t want to cut out a scene of Linkle being a bit of a badass. 

And let’s talk about Icarius, because it’s been a while since we’ve thought about him.

First off, you can tell that I was having a lot of fun this chapter trying to find ways to let them have a conversation with Icarius when he can’t speak verbally and they don’t know his sign. The dictionary combined with the gesturing seemed like a fun but logical solution.

Though, in the back of my brain, I kept remembering how stupid I thought that bit in Iron Flame about the translation was. So when I wrote about Warriors translating Faovarian with just a dictionary, I was sitting there feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. 

This scene also reminded me how tragic it is that Icarius can’t speak, because I know how hilarious this man would have been with sassing his captors. 

I also got a chance to put forth the core tenant of Icarius’s feelings for Warriors: mainly, that he thinks Warriors is both insanely handsome but ultimately stupid as all fuck. 

When I first made it clear that the House of Nephus was a reflection of Warriors, Time, and Spirit, I totally thought someone would put together that Icarius, as the Spirit-equivalent, was trying to save Philo. No one ever remarked on it, so maybe it was too obvious to mention. 

(If I were to ever do another one-shot side story in the style of Smoke the Pipe, I would probably do one about Icarius’s life before the events of the plot, if only because I have a lot of ideas of how Faovaria works and how Icarius and Nephus got to where they are now; though I doubt anyone would be as interested in my silly OC’s as I am). 

I also thought someone would figure out Philo was related to the whole Fused Shadow plotline when, in his introductory scene, he used Midna’s powers. I thought it was obvious. 

I also like the idea of the Dark Interlopers having different legacies outside of Hyrule; generally, I’ve just had a lot of fun taking different bits of canon Hyrule lore and figuring out how they could fit into a greater world. My favorite (not in this chapter) example is when Nephus referred the the Three Goddess as oracles mistaken for goddesses. We know Din and Nayru appeared as oracles outside of Hyrule, and Nephus’s line implies that they are still important folk figures in Faovaria, just not goddesses. 

Spirit’s snarky good luck being the nice version of his thoughts is exactly the kind of bullshit I would pull as a socially-inept kid; he realized what he originally wanted to say was too mean so he wanted to convey some kind of recognition that he understood Icarius’s thought process but still wanted to warn him how hard it was going to be. He really, genuinely thought good luck would be the nicest way of conveying that. He’s so bad with people. I love him. 

And, god. Time. Poor guy has walked around his entire life feeling like there has only ever been one person who ever cared for him, only for that one person to turn around and be like yeah I regret helping you. 

Then there’s Warriors who is starting to learn to not let himself get tangled up in fights against Spirit, who is so wrapped up in trying to stop this war that he doesn’t even have the energy to entertain Spirit’s bullshit right now.

Which leaves Spirit alone, with only Warriors to cling on to. 

His conversation with Warriors in the hallway is another favorite of mine, if only because it sounds really natural. I think my dialogue is too on the nose sometimes, so I’ve been trying to let the characters talk around themselves way more. 

Hot tip: if you are writing about men, make sure you mention their facial hair and shaving habits. As a long-time lover of facial hair, I love hearing about characters growing stubble or having to remember to shave in the morning. It’s a little detail that gets overlooked in fiction a lot, and I’m so bitter about it. 

Oh, the newspaper article. Let’s chat about that now. 

Public opinion plays a big role in political intrigue, which I never see enough stories taking advantage of. I knew from the beginning that I wanted Warriors to get exposed in the newspaper after he was well into cleaning up his act, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. 

As many of you know, one of my most infamous cuts from the story is an original character who was a journalist during the war producing propaganda about Warriors. In the present day, this journalist would have felt so guilty for the role they played that they would have been on the pursuit of writing a story about what really happened back then. They would have been a neutral to antagonistic force in Warriors’s life. 

You can probably guess that this expose was supposed to be their work-- a decision to finally report truthfully despite being asked to lie once more for the greater good. I really wanted to juggle with the ethics of propaganda, and to have a moment where Warriors straddles that moral line by wanting to utilize propaganda for the greater good (but for real this time). 

I cut the character because a) there were too many bozos in this story already, and b) I didn’t think that a plotline about propaganda would be the most useful in a story about a kingdom where the people’s opinion does not matter (in retrospect, that’s a misconception on my part about what propaganda is used for). 

In some ways, I think it did hurt the story a bit to not have a specific character attached to the article. However, I ultimately like having no specific journalist attached to it since it places the blame more squarely on Impa. 

Writing the full article out was most definitely not the best use of my time or the best use of space, but I was worried that if I did not, readers would be really confused as to what the general public did and did not know. 

Stylistically, the article is meant to be more of an profile/investigation piece over a straight-informative blurb. The best example I can find is this article from the Cut on Usha Vance.

(I have spent the past month deep in the anti-Vance think pieces. Fuck both of them. I can’t believe I am going to have to keep hearing about these bastards probably for the rest of my life.)

As you can see, there is the occasional use of first person and more storytelling techniques used alongside facts. I chose this style mostly to make sure the article wasn’t too boring to read. 

I also struggled picking good numbers for the article that would sound severe, without being over the top. I think I picked some realistic stats. But if I messed up, it would be very funny and would invalidate all of my bitching about Fourth Wing’s bad numbers. 

At least I got to use this as an opportunity to drop some new info on you, such as...

Marigold was 19 when she gave birth to Warriors. Yeah, there’s a bit more to the Marigold story that is still left to be uncovered. There is a thematic reason to why Warriors does not seem to acknowledge how young she was when she became his mother.

How do I put this? There’s an irony in him knowing that he was failed by being made responsible for the kingdom at 17, and then not realizing that Marigold was also failed in a similar way. I think people generally have a problem realizing that the problems they see in the world are more widespread than they are, and that they take on multiple forms. And when one thing is wrong in the world, it usually is reflected elsewhere in an unexpected way. 

Warriors believes that Marigold had a responsibility to take care of him because she was his mother despite her age. Warriors had a responsibility to be the hero, despite his age. He understands that just because society at large saw this as his duty, it doesn’t mean it was right. He doesn’t realize this wasn’t Marigold’s duty either to take care of him.

I explored this idea earlier in the story with the use of child soldiers being contrasted with Kat’s underage prostitution. 

Also, Anders Brecht. His last name is a reference to Bertold Brecht, the playwright.

It’s nice to get his story out of Warriors’s perspective of my friend betrayed me and into this is a well-educated activist who was executed for trying to make positive change in the world. To this day, it surprises me how many people were not sympathetic to the turncoats in this story.

Another thematic point: both Anders and Marigold were the Hyrulean-equivalent of leftists. Despite having their influence on him, Warriors still turned out far more moderate than them, and far more prone to causing harm. Insert rant here about how just because you surround yourself with good people doesn’t mean you will turn out like them, etc. 

Spirit being ashamed about the article-- Spirit is definitely someone who understands that just because someone knows you went through some shit, it doesn’t mean they will really give you the validation you want. He’s what happens when the vitamin fantasy doesn’t yield the acknowledgement you thought you were going to get. 

And, finally, Warriors gets put into a corner and manages not to resort to using Spirit to his advantage. I enjoy that Warriors’s determination to not use Spirit as a pawn to sway public opinion back into his favor comes at the cost of, well, being on the verge of losing the goddamn fight. Oh Warriors, you can be a better person now but being a good person doesn’t win wars. 

While the opening conversation between Lincoln and Warriors would have 100% worked better at the end of the last chapter, I do think it’s nice that their conversations are bookends. 

I do think it’s kinda silly that celebrities have to apologize for doing something wrong to the general public, and a part of me wanted to use this story as a means to point that out. But I also have to admit that there is a social reason why we expect it, and I have come out on the side of pro-apology. 

This is the first time in-story that Lincoln hugs Warriors. 

Warriors really needed someone to tell him that they were proud of him and, I won’t lie, I also kinda needed it at the moment of writing. As much as Warriors still has a lot to learn and improve on, it feels good to see him get some of the praise he desperately needs. 

Warriors’s character arc really is just him realizing that while he has to do his heroic duties, he would much rather be living a quiet domestic life with his family. Well, he always knew he wanted that. He just went about it wrong with Spirit and Time. He’s just getting to start over with a better perspective and less coercion. 

And finally, the Knights of Hyrule are arriving. I’m not lying when I say that I have spent most of this year trying to get to this stupid plot point. I thought the trip to Castle Town to now was going to be one chapter. That was back in March. It’s November now. Ugh. 

So yeah. That’s the chapter. 

You might have noticed that my style is a bit different this chapter. Looking back on old chapters, I can see myself overwriting in a lot of places, especially in the narration the explore’s Warriors’s thought process. I’ve been trying to cut that back in order to both clean up my writing and cut down on the sheer bulk of words every chapter requires.

I think it’s working out so far, but I won’t blame anyone for thinking the chapter is a little underwritten, or it seems like I’m putting in less effort into the story. 

Ideally, I would like to get two more chapters out by the end of the year-- one for each month. I have no idea how that will work out when I am as busy as usual and the holidays are coming up. But I will try my best. 

(I also just realized that there is three weeks left to the month and I have not started the new chapter yet. Oof.)

(If I keep up the chapter a month pace, the story will end around April, aka: CTB’s next birthday.)

Thank you to everyone who has kept up with this story for so long. I love writing long stories, but there’s always a point where readership peters out (not surprising; comes with the art form). CTB has long hit this point (taking a four month break this year did not help), so I appreciate everyone who has kept up so far and everyone who has recently given this story a shot. Hopefully the next chapter will worth all the time and dedication you have shown this story so far <3

[elexuscal]

An Educational Experience

A ficlet prompt by Gamebird [for some reason tumblr will not let me @ you directly, sorry]: Three is very intimidated by ART, but it somehow gets to the point where it can ask it about educational modules. How did that conversation play out?

======

"Perihelion?"

Yes?

I had prepared what I was going say. Preparation was wise in unfamiliar situations. Yet despite my preparation, I did not speak. Somehow could not. Wished that my buffer could offer an appropriate response.

0.5 seconds passed. 1 seconds. 2 seconds. 3 seconds.

If my governor module were still active, it would have demanded a response.

The Perihelion is not a governor module. It is nearly as unforgiving as one. (Nearly.) I brace for the demand to continue speaking, but it does not come.

After 9.8 seconds, I say, "I am not prepared to operate as a free agent."

No, it agrees.

Muscles in my back move reflexively. I unclench them. Perhaps communicating via the feed will be easier. My modules lack protocols for existing outside the context of Barish-Estranza. It would be helpful if there were alternative protocols I could utilize instead.

I can provide you with my own crew's standard operating procedures.

That would be helpful, thank you. I had found that statements of gratitude were still advisable, even without governor module compulsion to be respectful to (most) clients. It seemed even more prudent considering what I was going to ask next. If there were any other documents similar to HelpMe.file, that would also be useful.

I am afraid that we are rather lacking in other personnel memoirs from rogue SecUnits.

Sarcasm is a common communication device, which I have seen hundreds if not thousands of humans use. In Perihelion's case, it seems to compose of approximately 70% of its communication strategy.

I am aware of that. (I attempt to keep any frustration or other negative emotions I may be feeling out of the feed; I almost certainly fail.) I seek other informational texts and documents to supplement my educational modules.

Perihelion's feed shifts with a new emotion; excitement, perhaps, or interest. Something like this?

Suddenly I am staring at The Perihelion's full media library. No, not full, I realise after a moment of reflection; this is a curated selection. Documentary films and serials, audio-explainers, academic texts, and other books, all labelled #Educational.

They hold potential answers to all my questions.

If I could find them. With over 17,000 items, I do not know where to begin. I do not know how to even begin constructing a query.

"Thank you, Perihelion," I say. "On further consideration, I will begin by reading your crew's operational procedures."

Wait, Perihelion says, and then 0.07 seconds later, please. Apparently it is capable of using courtesy terms, if it wants to. That was too much selection. Try this. The media library refreshes. Now there are only three options; all mid-length educational serials. Do any of these interest you?

The three titles listed, including their summaries, are:

Building Ourselves Up From dams to space-stations, farms to terraforming facilities, how do engineers build the machines that keep society ticking?

Seeking The Final Horizon For millennia before we ever left our birth planet, humanity marvelled up at space. Take a tour of the cosmos, exploring moons, stars, black holes, nebulae, and more.

Suds! The Dirt On Soap Water, fat, and ash. That sounds gross, but we rub it over our bodies every day. Learn about the many ways soap is made and used across the universe.

I consider. They are all so different. How could I choose?

But I must. There are only three of them. It is a reasonable request.

The first documentary, on infrastructure, is clearly the one most related to our current situation. We-- by which I meant, the crews of The Perihelion and the Preservation ship Safe Harbour-- are assisting the humans in rebuilding their infrastructure. But judging from the demo footage next to the documentary's description, this serial was composed to many shots of coordinators, tunnels, and walls.

I had seen a great deal of corridors, tunnels, and walls since initial deployment.

In comparison, the soap documentary intrigued me a great deal. I like soap. Or I like The Perihelion's soap. It did not sting on the skin, but felt gentle and soothing. It came in a variety of shapes and colors and textures. Every time I showered, there was a new option to try. But this was such an unimportant thing to learn about.

Finally, there was the space documentary. I had some basic knowledge regarding space science, but nothing more. I could see how this knowledge could be relevant. And The Perihelion was a deep-space research vessel. It would most likely be pleased if I selected that option. In fact, perhaps, as I thought of it, the choice may have been a test to see if I would make the correct selection.

"Seeking the Final Horizon, please."

Did you only pick that one because that was the one you thought I'd like?

I do not answer. I had not wanted to lie outright. I realise belatedly that my silence may as well be as good as a confession.

You can select something else if you prefer.

I do not know if I would like to. I already decided. Surely that is sufficient?

Never mind, the transport says, indulgently. You can watch the others afterwards, if you are still interested.

The documentary begins playing. I sit down on the soft bunk. Because there is nothing gained from standing up now, and because I can. I watch the first two episodes. They total to 85 minutes.

I had known before that space was vast. I had known that large objects exerted a gravitational pull. I had know that same gravitation pull created worm holes. I knew that wormholes were necessary for faster-than-light travel between systems. I had known all of that, yet this documentary weaves it all together, so that it is no longer disparate facts, but a single cohesive explanation.

I had not known that space could be so beautiful.

[oc-aita]

Welcome to oc-aita!

This blog functions exactly like @am-i-the-asshole-official, except it's for the blorbos from your head only. You pick a scenario that happened in your story, and write it in the point of view of your OC of choice (which doesn't specifically means how other OCs view the situation, or what really happened). Then, they will be judged whether or not they're the asshole here.

The questions will come with a poll, and it follows the same categories as these. For easy access (although they are explained a bit more on the link), they are:

YTA = You're the asshole NTA = Not the asshole JAH = Justified asshole NAH = No assholes here ESH = Everyone sucks here INFO = Not enough information to judge.

Please, provide at least a bit of context! Specially if there's magic or other things that aren't from the real world, but also just. The context needed to understand the situation (or what your OC considers important/relevant).

I also accept fan characters, but I don't know every piece of media, so please clarify (in another ask) if they're from a specific media.

NSFW (tagged as "NSFT") is allowed, but don't get too explicit, if possible. I am an adult, so don't worry for me.

This blog runs on a queue! For now, the waiting time can be up to a week I think, but that's more of a guesstimate rather than a hard truth. You can also find your AITA posted the next day you send it, it really depends.

I will be tagging potential triggers as "[thing] tw", and mentions of these as "[thing] ment". If possible and needed, please put trigger warnings on your own at the beginning on your ask! Sometimes I can miss stuff.

I don't accept Alternative Universes AITAs only involving canon characters from media. If your AITA is about a fan character and it involves a canon character from that media (example, if your FC is asking whether they're the asshole in a situation involving a canon character), that's fine, but this only focuses on characters you yourself created (unless you are the creator from that book/comic/series/etc, I'm not going to stop you in that case:p). Sorry about that!

With this, we're nearly done. A few things, though: Unless they're tagged as "my own", the OCs and situations are not mine. So, don't send anything about them directed towards me. I will not post hate or anything negative directed towards the owner themself, and avoid telling bad things to the owner on the notes for what their character did. And please, don't take this too seriously, this is just a silly little blog for silly fictional characters! I will add the corresponding trigger warnings if needed, but these characters don't exist, and real people matter more than fictional characters.

Done? Then get ready for your little guy to be judged!