#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

[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.

[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!

[robertoarts]

Semper Fi

I am not a writer by any means, but I just had this idea, and I couldn't get it out of my head.

This takes place after the end of Avatar 2 so expect spoilers. I am 100% just gonna make shit up here, hope that's ok. idk where this is going, I have covid and ItS 4:21 am, but here you GO I have NOT READ THIS SO IM SORRy FOR MISTAKES OK

This WILL be multiple parts if ya want

Also sorry for the info dump at the beginning but really am not a writer and wanted to provide some context ok

Na'vi Quaritch x Fem Na'vi Reader (former RDA)

(1,896 words)

Some tags ig

[slow burn, like the slowest of burns ok?, memory loss trope, i can fix him trope]

[warning - blood mention]

You have been sneaking through the forest, entertaining yourself, bounding from tree to tree, sent out on a hunting mission along with a few others. You split up a while earlier to spread the load more evenly. Hunting has never really been your strong suit, you preferred blades to bows, and you're larger than most na'vi women, leaving you a little less agile. You knew it had something to do with the human physiology you used to have. You took pride in your strength, and being in the military gave you a purpose...for a time at least. You mostly worked with scientists, working escorts and the like; you were basically a glorified chauffeur, and when the RDA came to Pandora with the promise of new life and new land, and you being a solid 20-year-old marine, you did what you do best. 

You were assigned a role on the AVTR team working on a separate subsection; you didn't fully understand what they were doing or why, but it had something to do with integrating the humans and the Avatars, removing the need for the linkbeds altogether. This idea was the beginning of something they called the Recom project. The work was a success and a small group of humans fully integrated into their Na'vi counterparts. You were one of the first ones they tried the experiment on. Being the muscle, the risk of you dying would have little effect on anyone. You were happy to oblige; you preferred being in your avatar body. 

Your time in Pandora was a complex one. While protecting the scientists, you fell in love with the planet, the culture, and the people. As you spent time in Pandora with the scientists, you lived among the Anurai Clan. Renowned for their artisans and craftsmen. It went against everything the RDA said, the people weren't savages, their planet was beautiful, and their connection to Eywa was sacred. You kept this to yourself for a while. Being the property of the RDA, you knew not everyone would share your sentiments, but as time passed, you knew you were not the only one. When the war with the sky people began, you and over half of the scientists took the side of the Na'vi, and the rest went back to continue their Recom research. 

The war with the sky people and the Omaticaya clan is well known, but the effect on the Anurai clan was severe, almost wiping them out. Few true Anurai remained after, and you, as a united people, moved away from your home, settling somewhere new to find peace, knowing the RDA would eventually react.

The 17 years since have been a mixed bag. You had become good with crafting, knives were your speciality, but you also carved small sculptures in your spare time, usually making Thanators for members of the Clan. With it being their totem animal, you had numerous requests. And while RDA did respond, your focus was on helping the Anurai clan breathe life back into what they once were, and slowly the Clan has begun rebuilding. You did anything they asked, hunting, gathering but mostly fishing. 

That is the quest you had been sent on this eve. Although you were more significant in size than most, you had a stillness about you in the water, making you a pro and capturing the river fish. The walk was extensive, but you still enjoyed the physical exertion—a soldier trait you couldn't kick. One leg in front of the other, repetitive motion to keep your mind still. The view was spectacular, too, you didn't connect with Eywa often, but you felt her all around you as you travelled. 

You picked some Nurra berries while walking the route to your favourite part of the river. There were places closer to the Clan, but you liked to take the time to walk to your favourite spot. A home away from home, a small waterfall with a cave hidden beyond the water, the fish were more relaxed, and you had set up a little space in the cave with some things you preferred to keep private. 

As you throw some Nurra berries into your pack, your ears prick up. The forest shifts. It feels quiet, almost unnatural. You immediately slow, bend low, a unsheathe your knife. You move slowly, down to the ground, and deliberately to make little noise. 

That is when you hear it, groans, almost inaudible. They sound pained? Close by, off the path ahead. You move towards it, holding your knife to your chest; it is bigger than the average, handcrafted by yourself, your personal initiation to your Clan. The groans get louder, and you prepare for anything as you follow. You slowly push some flora out of the way, and you see...a man?

Shock grips your soul. You see an RDA avatar wearing military gear, completely ripped to shreds, blood-staining his green tank top. His face is towards the ground, and you can see his typical Jarhead haircut and his kuru, the hair around it dishevelled, showing his skin in unprotected areas. Your ears roll back, and you hiss in his direction. What is an RDA soldier doing out here?? The sound of your hiss stuns the man into movement, desperately turning, pushing himself off the ground, mud covering his face, turning to look. Fear tugged at his face, ears submissive and mouth agape. 

You leap towards him, knife at the ready, "What are you doing out here, soldier!?" you shout in English. He tries to push himself away from you, confusion painting his face. "I... I " you hear a deep drawl. With menacing intent, you begin to move closer, standing taller to assert your dominance. You were wearing some traditional Anurai garbs but opted for leggings which one would usually wear for riding, another human perk you hadn't shaken yet; the feeling of pants made you feel safer. The sky above you opens up, and you feel the wet drips on your body as you stand. The sound is roaring, and rain begins belting down to Pandora with heavy ferocity.

The man looked pathetic below you, scared, wet, and bleeding. He was helpless; he had no weapon you could discern and seemed desperate to get away from you. He is pushing himself away, digging into the wet ground to find traction.

"Answer me, kalweyaveng!" your voice boomed out, causing him to flinch, his tail swinging recklessly behind him. "I don't know!" He shouted in response, "I don't know where I am, I don't...I don't know how I got here. I can't .." your head tilts at his answer.

"You can't....? What is your name, soldier?"

"I don't..." the man looks scared and confused; he looks around, pulling himself further away from you. Your eyes widen, you take the risk and take your eyes off the man, looking around for any sign of backup. Was this some trick? You can see in your peripheral that he is trying to stand, and you turn your head to look. He is holding his midsection, the rain accentuates the crimson colour leaking from his fingers. 

Guilt pangs at you, this man acts like he doesn't know who he is, where he is or why he is here. And now he will die alone, scared in a place that is not his home. You lift your knife, ready to move toward him and take his life. He isn't even looking at you anymore, he is pushing himself off the ground, standing. As he stretches out before you, you can see he is exceptionally tall, his body holds muscles in a similar way to yours, not of the Na'vi living at home, all limbs and grace. He is dejected, almost accepting of his coming fate. So much needless death, you think to yourself, reluctance seeping from your being as you inch your way forward. 

That's when you see it, atokirina, a seed of the tree of souls. Not one, but two. Floating their way over to this strange man, in this madness, seemingly missing every torrential raindrop divebombing their way towards them.

Doubt and reluctance combined with this sign from Eywa were enough to sway you. If Eywa could accept you, why could it accept this man? You slide your knife back into its tstalsena. You take a breath, cautious, and say, "Semper fi", moving towards him, grabbing his arm and placing it over your shoulder and sharing his weight with you, "Come on stranger, let's get you out of this rain, I know a place not to far from here we can take shelter.". He winces, letting himself relax a little, putting more weight onto you. He is far more strung out than he let on, which you didn't think possible.

The two of you make your way to your safe space, unsure of what to do with the avatar yet. Better to take him away from the Clan for now and figure out what to do later. 

Supporting his weight was beginning to grow tiresome, but you can see your waterfall ahead, the rain is relentless, and you can feel the man shivering around you. You have shared silence on your journey here; his tiny breaths seem to grow weaker, and worry begins to sit in your stomach. You pull more of his weight onto you and walk faster. 

You pull him into the cave, walking underneath the waterfall, the water warmer than the rain, and you pass through. You place the man down, leaning him against the back wall of your cove, in front of the small fire pit already prepared. You take out your knife and begin striking the hilt onto a rock, trying to create the spark you need to warm your new five-fingered friend. 

An orange glow and the following warmth emit from the pit, and you start throwing on logs to generate more heat. You move to a pack with some different medicinal poultices and bring them over to the stranger. He seems to have passed out since placing him on the ground, he is weak and injured. You take what you have and do what you can, lifting off the dark green tank top and seeing the damage to his muscular chest. You smear the goop onto the open wounds on his body, and they are not severe, he will not die from these just yet. Due to your walk through the rain, his face is no longer muddy, and you can finally get a good view. He looks young, younger than you, maybe in his 20's? He is handsome, his short hair suits him well; short hair is something you do not often see among the Na'vi people as their hair often tells stories. He is cute, you think as you examine the damage to his face. He also has a burn on his neck, which you treat the best you can. You are not a healer, it is not your strong suit, and you a very quickly using up what medicine you have stashed away, you will have to ask Euatx for more when you go back. Around his neck, you see tags, you peer at them, hoping to get a glimpse of his name; the tags look damaged, and you only see one name.

"Huh. Hello Miles." 

//

Translation

kalweyaveng - son of a bitch

atokirina - woodsprite

tstalsena - knife sheath

[galacticspaceguy]

((Definitely didn't rewrite this ask like 8 different times pshhhh u don't know what ur talking about-))

First things first, I'm 1000000% agreeing with your post about there not being enough platonic Spiderverse x Reader content. I am literally STARVING for platonic Spiderverse PLEASE,,,, there were only like 10 posts when I searched it up last and AO3 was so empty when I checked,,,,

Secondly, I rewatched the first Spiderverse two days ago ((& watched the new one earlier today)), but something about rewatching the original triggered some dormant part of me that has decided that Noir would be SUCH A GOOD PARENTAL / MENTOR FIGURE!!!

So, If you're cool with it, could I get some headcanons or a oneshot ((whatever you're feeling I'm starving here please-)) with him and a reader who's an older teen (like 17-19) and became Spiderman/woman/person when they were in their mid-teens (15/16)? It would probably work best with the context of the reader being a part of the events of the first movie, but in my head, reader has lived their entire life without close friends or anyone they could really talk to about their problems ((especially after they got bit)), so they closed themself off from others. Noir seems like the type that would be able to push someone like them to interact with others more, while also being entirely willing and eager to act as a support system. Maybe the oneshot/headcanon would involve reader getting hurt and Noir patching them up and letting them know that they do have other spider-people available to support them? Preferably gender-neutral but I don't mind either way! :]

((sorry but kinda not sorry for the kinda longish ask ((I did cut it down tho so hopefully it's a bit better)), rewatching Spiderverse triggered something in me that deeply desires parental! Noir so when I saw your post I immediately needed to send in an ask lol))

“You don’t have to shut everything out, you know.”

His words confused you for a moment, until you realized it was gonna be one of those sentimental, overly-emotional, trying to break your walls down, conversations.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You said, rather nonchalantly. You winced when he tightened the bandages around your arms.

You had insisted on going off on your own, resulting in you getting your ass beat- injured.

And apparently Noir was a doctor, so you got stuck with the black and white spiderman variant.

Everyone had tried to engage with you, the pig was very persistent in getting you to crack a smile with his cheesy, cartoony jokes. Their efforts proved to be fruitless.

You lived your entire like without needing anyone, and you weren’t about to change that. It was better that way. You were safer.

“You’re rather cut off for a kid?” It was said like a question, but you knew Noir knew it was a fact.

You acknowledged this was a huff as you cradled you injured arm.

“Could I, uh, see your hand?” Noir held out his own hand. You hesitated, looking between his hand and his masked face. You placed your hand in his.

He began to wrap your bruised hand in bandages that were provided by Mile’s universes Aunt May.

“I know being Spider-Man is hard, but it’s nice knowing there are other spider… people.”

You stayed silent, your answers coming out in hums or little noises, never taking your eyes off of his hands. You stiffened as his fingers touched one of the bruises.

“You’re allowed to talk, kid.” He said, looking you dead in the eye.

“I know that.” You replied, yanking your neatly bandaged hand away from him. “Just don’t see the need for it.”

Noir slightly tilted his head to the side. He hummed after hearing your answer.

“That’s a shame, I quite like the sound of your voice.

Now he was just trying to butter you up.

“Really?” Your tone of voice proved you didn’t believe him.

“Of course. I can only imagine the type of things you’ve got to say.” He leaned back in his chair in Aunt May’s living room. “What’s it like in your world? It’s obvious all our worlds are different.”

You sighed, a bit frustrated. “Look, I swing around, fight the bad guys, get bashed for it on the news, thats my life, nothing more to it.” You pulled your knees closer to your chest as you sat in an armchair.

“Well, if you ever wanna get more… in-depth about it, I haven’t quite lost my hearing yet.” He got up and sent two finger guns your way. It took everything in you not to let a small smile break free.

He left the room, leaving you by yourself. It was quiet and empty.

Suddenly, you didn’t like being alone.

[blackbatcass]

If it’s okay could you recommend comics for the flash fam? I really want to start reading them but I have no idea where to start 😅

YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN ANON!! reading flashfam comics can change your life for the better fr, unlike batman comics which usually change your life for the worse. Flash comics are honestly very simple to get into? for the most part you can just pick which era you want to start with, hop on that mainline ongoing and read from there.

this got kind of ridiculously long (i ramble about flash sorry)

i am not by any means a well-read silver age fan so I'll just skip right over those LMAO. if you want to read barry's run i assume you can just read flash v1 up until crisis. if you're interested in reading wally as kid flash he's featured in backups throughout a lot of v1 iirc!

unsurprisingly, my number one rec for the flashfam would be the flash volume 2 (1987). it's got pretty much everything you need. it introduced the speed force, basically created what we think of as the flashfamily, reintroduced & created beloved characters, and built up wally into the loser we know and love today<3 at its core it's the story of wally's journey from the very start of his career as the flash, learning how to fill barry's shoes and be a grown-up. it starts when he's this insane cringe 20 year old loser and ends with him as a full adult who's married with two kids LOL. it does soooo much work for wally as a character it's unreal.

but to keep it real flash v2 is......very long. like Incredibly long. it is 200+ issues and ran for over 20 years. so i can break it down into some smaller pieces & try to provide a roadmap so it's maybe a little less intimidating

the bad news is that the first guy to start out on the run fucking HATED wally for some reason lmfao and it shows. it's painful to read. the good news is he only stayed for the first 14 issues lol so honestly you can just skip those and start at #15 where william messner-loebs took over. now......the messner-loebs era is also not perfect and can be a bit of a slog. I love it in the fond 'wow wtf was all that' kind of way but it is definitely not a masterpiece. there are a lot of unmemorable, bland (occasionally batshit & ridiculous) arcs and he introduces a whole army of mostly forgettable side characters. credit where credit is due there is a lot of good stuff in there, he set up some stuff that is foundational to flash lore (like LINDA!! and hartley!) but it's not for everyone. if you want you can jump in at #31, where wally moves to keystone, or if you read some of it and it's not for you it's honestly fine to just skip to #62 where waid's run begins. #62-65 are a flashback retelling of wally's origin story (basically flash year one) and it's sooo good. essential wally reading.

the waid run is definitely the best section of the comic. it's classic it's iconic it builds the flashfamily it creates the speedforce it introduces bart allen. it's phenomenal. if you are interested in characters like bart, the garricks, johnny & jesse quick, and max mercury they are all integrated into the flashfam over this run. if nothing else i would recommend reading this part. oh and SPEAKING of bart allen, he gets introduced in issue #92! he hangs out in flash for a bit, zero hour happens, and pretty soon after his impulse series starts in 1995.

this is my #2 flashfam rec! if you have been in these tumblr circles at all then you've heard us rave about impulse 1995. it's simply Thee comic of all time. everyone on earth needs to read it im not kidding. it follows bart's life living with max mercury and his daughter helen, trying to adjust to normal life in the past. it's just. it's the best. it's 89 issues long, but honestly it goes by SUPER fast. i would recommend doing what i did and reading impulse and flash in parallel, just to get that organic experience & context. they cross over several times until impulse eventually ends.

ok back to flash v2. once geoff johns takes over..... i mean i won't say it ruins the comic and there is definitely stuff worth reading but i love waid infinitely better. it's really up to you. waid also comes back now and then to write a few chunks.

the flash series doesn't end until 2008. the next big thing after would be flash: rebirth, which. i am not a fan of for obvious reasons (get back in that coffin barry) but it's essential to understanding the plot so i have to include it lol.

i honest to god have no idea wtf was going on during flashpoint & new52. I will not pretend to understand that era. however if you are interested in the modern flashfam & the introduction of characters like ace west and avery ho, there are a couple good places to start! if you want to read williamson's run, you can start at the rebirth flash run (flash v5 #1). wally is eventually reintroduced (thank god) during this run.

if you want to start at the jeremy adams run (which features lots of members of the flashfamily) you can start at flash #768, which runs all the way to #800.

I would personally recommend the current flash ongoing written by si spurrier! it is kind of a lot and I'm in the minority in my love for it but it's interesting, thoughtful, has a role for pretty much every character, and has a lot of really cool cosmic horror elements. i will concede that it is VERY complicated and technical but you can tell spurrier has things to say and honestly it's so rare that a comic makes me think these days that i'm eating it up.

there were also two recent flashfam miniseries that just finished, speed force and jay garrick: the flash! i enjoyed both. they're short and fun.

aaaand that's my list! it is by no means comprehensive and it is very possible i got some things wrong so I apologize in advance. if you have any more questions I will be happy to try and answer them. I hope this was at least a little bit helpful and not even more confusing lol!