#finishing the first one was a TRIAL it was TOUGH

[oneminutefiftysixseconds]

🌐 You can add one race to the world tour calendar (promoting an existing race or inventing a new one). What do you do?

for everyone that asked me this question i thank you and i will be answering it all at once here because i put WAY too much thought into this. way too much.

Tour Of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit

Stage 1A: Richmond Park 10km 50m elev.

we open with a 10k lap of Richmond Park -- it's the cycling hotspot of the capital, time trials are a big part of the UK domestic scene, and i like a prologue TT. and it would really piss off london cyclists when whoever wins sets a record time around the park, taking with them the leaders jersey for the first proper road stage later the same day:

Stage 1B: London -> Brighton, 150km 1,000m elev.

a meandering journey to the seaside taking in the Olympics-famous Box Hill and joining the classic London to Brighton route, the first stage winner will likely need to bide their time and hope an attack on Ditchling Beacon gets them enough of a gap to take them to the finish line.

Stage 2: Oxford -> Cambridge, 190km 700m elev.

between the two ancient university towns lies the flat and beautiful Bedfordshire. the peloton will start among the dreaming spires and the sprinters will tough it out on King's Parade, a stone's throw from the apple tree newton supposedly sat under while working on gravitation!

Stage 3: Telford -> Stoke-on-Trent, 220km 1,500m elev.

we loop into Wales for a long but relatively gentle start to the hills... the Clwydian Range might not be the Pyrenees but there are plenty significant climbs in there that indicate today is likely one for the breakaway -- or an audacious solo -- and the notorious welsh weather could lead to all sorts of surprises

Stage 4: Manchester -> Leeds, 160km, 1,800m elev.

heading first south from Manchester into the Peak District and finishing with a city circuit in Leeds, this should be another chance for a breakaway ahead of tomorrow...

Stage 5, the Queen Stage: York -> Hardknott Pass, 280km, 3,500m (!) elev.

i woke up and chose violence. giro mountain stages eat your heart out, it's time for GC action in the North York Moors, Yorkshire Dales, and the Lake District with a summit finish on Hardknott Pass (the steepest road in england, maxing out at an eye-popping 30%). Rosedale Chimney, Buttertubs Pass, and the aptly named Struggle are the key climbs before Hardknott, and the helicopter shots will be superb as the race passes through some of the UK's most beautiful landscapes, finishing within sight of Scafell Pike.

Stage 6: Carlisle -> Glasgow, 180km, 850m elevation.

a border-crossing run into two laps of the iconic 2023 city circuit, this punchy stage will likely favour whichever classics specialist can recover the best from yesterday's efforts

Stage 7: Edinburgh -> Newcastle, 195km, 1,000m elev.

starting in scotland's capital, today is the final opportunity for any GC changes, mostly rolling terrain but enough to make a difference if it's only a few seconds

Stage 8: Peterborough -> Great Yarmouth, 180km 300m elev.

and so the Tour of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit concludes with a sprint along Great Yarmouth's seafront Golden Mile, bringing to an end a hopefully exciting one-week race in this country that does actually have decent cycling, contrary to what the actual TOB might lead you to believe

[shivroy]

hello my second shivfic is underway. i am in shiv mindset. god i love shiv roy and also writing

[burr-ell]

A Not-Necessarily-Exhaustive List of Good Moments from C1 1-27:

"I have an intelligence of 6, I know what I'm doing"

"We're here to right wrongs, and right lefts—" "And write comment cards"

Tiberius Kraghammer

Clarota

"We'll explain later. You're on the roof of Osama bin Laden's house"

"We'll be taking your weapons, your armor, and I believe your pride"

Percy making the first trick arrows for Vex after a shopkeep was a dick to her about arrows, which is canonically when she began to fall for him

Keyleth killing that one duergar from the TLOVM flashback

"I encourage violence"

Lady Kima being freed and then pulverizing the corpse of the duergar who'd been torturing her

Matt's fucked up body horror monsters

Scanlan taking a dump on a bed for the first time

Pike's crisis of faith when she slits a duergar's throat with her mace and her holy symbol breaks

When the limited T-shirt run went live and then sold out before Marisha could finish reading the announcement

Vax getting his foot burned off in lava

Scanlan the Kingslayer

"Can I use my Luck feat for this?" "You don't have any feet left"

Kima and Keyleth's argument (it was good, haters eat my shorts)

The origin of The Cube

"I'm Vax that's Vex ->" "I'm Vex that's Vax <-"

"Screw you, I want my final words with you to be indignant and irritated!"

"He has three-quarters cover" "I ignore three-quarters cover :)" "...then fuckin' fire!"

"Some people have no sense of fucking honor!"

Travis's notes that just say "I don't trust Clarota I don't trust Clarota I don't trust Clarota"

Percy reacting to the Briarwoods being namedropped during a council meeting

Meeting Gilmore on-stream for the first time

The Belt of Dwarvenkind and Grog's obsessive attempts to grow a beard

Scanlan's blue-shit-scrying potion

Grog "Philip" Strongjaw vs Kern

Vax giving Minxie!Keyleth a belly rub

The hydra fight and the beef with the Slayer's Take

Episodes 18 and 19, in their entirety, but specifically:

Zahra and Vex's initial rivalry-turned-friendship-turned-"I have a crush on Zahra"

Lyra. She's just. so much. idk of what but she is it

"I'm wearing the pajamas with the buttflap and the buttflap is down. The buttflap is DOWN"

Scanlan introducing himself to Rimefang as Burt Reynolds and then Matt, in his scary dragon voice, calling him "Burt"

"I'm sorry, I'm a genius, I'm sorry! Oh, god I'm clever!"

Zahra killing Rimefang

Percy and Vex working together on a history check (it's important To Me)

Wil Wheaton rolling five Nat 1s. In one session

Keyleth and Vax posing as a married couple to get information

Kash insight-checking Thorbir, believing he has to be actively sabotaging them because no one could possibly be that bad at their job (he's not, he really is just that unlucky)

Wil, playing a dwarven fighter, finally rolling a nat 20...for an insight check

The magic carpet losing its enchantment in a pit of acid and Laura's scream of horror from offscreen

"Rakshasaaaaaaa!" -jazz hands-

Kashaw and Keyleth, which was thankfully reworked in TLOVM but was also hilarious

Vex exasperatedly kissing Grog, portrayed by Laura kissing a bewildered Travis

Tyriok the cartographer

Grog, the Vasselheim merchant, and the first and only time Vex started beef with a retailer

Keyleth recounting a vision she had of her own death

The Aramente trial in Pyrah and a cameo from Thordak

Travis getting a medal from a fan for losing to Kern and Matt making it canon

Grog fighting Kern again and winning

Keyleth getting arrested. For the second time in Vasselheim alone

The first appearance of the man. The myth. The Viktor

Kynan's first appearance and Vax's idea of "tough love"

Percy telling his backstory to the party and them immediately affirming their support for him ("You don't have to get involved in this" "Oh, we are SO involved" "You said you wanted 'em dead!") and Taliesin himself being moved to tears over this

Percy creating Diplomacy

Vax and Keyleth bear-sitting Trinket and braiding pink ribbons into his fur

Gilmore finding out Vax wants to see him and teleporting in from half a continent away

Vax shaving half of Grog's beard and Travis breaking a mechanical pencil with one hand

The feast, where Percy actually threatens the Briarwoods to their faces while disguised as Vax

Vax and the Briarwoods. "Gosh you guys are good-looking"

Vax nearly dying and having a vision of the two people he cares about most: Vex and Keyleth

Sylas jumping out the window and doing a perfect 3-point landing...while Delilah blows the athletics check and faceplants in the dirt

"SYLAS"

Vex scoring two crits on Delilah

Tiberius getting Feebleminded

Percy's attack on Desmond. My horrid little skrunkly <3

"YOUR SOUL IS FORFEIT! DIE! DIE!" and Keyleth skipping her turn to just stare at Percy

Vox Moochina

Keyleth taking charge to save the ember roc

Keyleth conjuring a water elemental and Taliesin gargling water to translate her commands to it

And finally, the conversation between Keyleth and Percy where he privately confesses his own worries that he's going dark and that he's afraid of himself, and she expresses her concern for him and promises to be there for him

anyway c1 good

[sydnieminty]

Ares, the god of war 🩸

Also including an Aphrodite ref sheet that I've had 90% finished for like the last 8 months but hadn't bothered to finish until just recently lol

Anyways buckle up because I'm about to start YAPPIN

I wasn't sure how this was gonna go at first because I don't have a lot of experience with designing male characters and it's not something I typically enjoy but I really like how he turned out and I really enjoyed the process. I was like wait this is fun actually, it's different than what I usually draw.

I've been wanting to do something with Ares for a long time because I think he's really slept on in the Greek mythology community. I think Ares and Aphrodite probably have the healthiest relationship in Greek mythology and I've always found it interesting that the ancient Greeks paired Love with War

I've seen people talk shit about Aphrodite like "oh she cheats on her husband, that's so shitty" like,, you mean the husband she was forced to marry? Ok... But on that note I think Aphrodite and Hephaestus's marriage is interesting and it is something I plan on doing something with. Hephaestus is another one of the few seemingly upstanding men in Greek mythology so I feel like he treats Aphrodite with respect and they find love between each other after some time, in their own way.

Something I always think about is Ares is such a good dad?? He's often depicted in statues with Eros and in war is almost always accompanied by Deimos and Phobos. like yes, spend quality time with your children, so cute <3 Also he supports his Amazon daughters. He unalives a man who assaulted his daughter and it pisses off Poseidon so bad that they INVENT court to put him on trial just for Ares to go "Yeah I did it, and I'd fuckin do it again" and gets acquitted

Back to my Ares design. I thought it would be interesting if his scars were transient, as in not really permanent scars but more like very slowly healing wounds filling with ichor. The only way he can scar permanently is if the injury is inflicted on him by another immortal...

Stole the glowy hair from Disney's Hercules because that shit is peak character design

I was not going to draw any helmets at first because... I didn't want to lol but I read that he like almost always had his helmet. Like he's showing up to fancy dinners carrying his helmet. So I was like okay fine have your emotional support helmet lol

His spear is a gift from Aphrodite, it has a little heart design engraved into it <3 I find Warlike Aphrodite VERY interesting and I like to imagine her having a surprisingly strong affinity for conflict

Personality wise, Ares tries to put up a tough guy "whatever. I don't care act" but he is actually very much a people pleaser and has a distinct desire to be accepted. He is keenly aware that he is not well liked among the gods nor the mortals. He is not the beloved, wise, tactical Athena. He is Bloodlust and Carnage, he is the ugliest sides of war. To most mortals he is a god to appease, not worship.

He loves his mother, and he is her favorite child. He has spent his life defending her, even as a child and even against his father. He is not well liked by his father, but this is typical of Zeus, who is paranoid that one of his sons will eventually continue the family's proclivity for patricide.

Anyways thank you for reading my essay. I will be making more Aphrodite/Ares content very soon. I hope you enjoy

[reptileyan]

Cw: yandere, cute monster boy fattening you up because being fat is cute and makes you perfect for terato breeding

Monster boy with sharp teeth that loves all manner of food-a wonderful chef who drags you off to his home after you eat one of the treats he left in your kitchen.

They were wonderful, and worth it, your first thought when you awake is that you absolutely have to have another of the lovely little tarts that you can't seem to remember buying.

You're blind, temporary magic, something he put in the food. He doesn't want to face the heartache of you reacting to his appearance just yet. Better to blame it on you being startled, waking up in an unfamiliar place, missing one of your senses. It'll make it easy to keep you nearby as well. Even if you could see where he keeps the keys, even if you could reach the locked door and rush past him, you wouldn't get very far, now would you? If you have any good sense, you'll stay and be pampered like a good pet.

All you have to do is ask for one of the treats and it will be happily given to you, once you finish your silly hyperventilating and crying. Your captor strokes your cheek with an enormous, calloused hand, careful with his claws as he admires how soft it is, but it could be softer, fuller.

He coos in dismay as your tears fall. Poor little thing. Didn't your mother teach you not to take sweets from strangers?

No matter. You're safe with him now, cherished and spoiled no matter how you hiss and scream and cry and kick. And you don't do much of that, because why would you? He's very strong and can see, you aren't and you can't. You could be in Antarctica for all you know. The birdsongs you hear could be recorded, the giant soft bed that smells like lavender could be a mile underground.

This could be a lab trial you don't remember signing up for, a fever dream that warps your sense of time, a strange purgatory.

You suspect it's your average kidnapping, that you're in the woods less than five miles from home, and you're being fattened up to be cooked and eaten. You're mostly right.

You are being overfed to soften you up, simply due to your new mates preferences. He prides himself in making you plump, so you look properly cared for, well on your way to being fat enough to safely cradle and nurture his pups inside that cute round tummy of yours.

Your chest is heavier than it used to be, ready to be full of milk for his little ones and to make your poor bones sore in the meantime. You get apologies and backrubs and hot baths to ease the aches that carrying all this new weight brings. You are granted no relent from the constant onslaught of delicious morsels, huge meals, he refuses to stop feeding you and you can't stop eating. The food he makes is just that good.

You accuse him in your small trembling voice, of plotting against you, of planning to abandon you or selling you off, of changing your body for a cruel form of amusement, of carrying you everywhere so your meat isn't tough. Time and again a honeyed, raspy voice tells you otherwise, as strong arms wrap around you, remind you how small you are in comparison. You are his mate, and you are safe, and you are loved. Your purpose is simply to be loved and spoiled, and once you stop being terrified of him, shaking in his arms, he'll be honored to breed you nice and deep.

It's taking awhile though, so maybe he'll get a taste. You learn of his snout and sharp teeth for the first time as his maw envelops your cunt, as a giant tongue stuffs itself into you-it can't all fit in but that's okay! You have the rest of forever to be stretched out.

He breaks after half an hour of making you scream and clench and sob around him, carrying you to the bubble bath, bringing you petit fours-your favorite!-and massaging shampoo into your scalp.

You can't see his smile as you tug on his arm, inviting him into the tub. But you feel his body surrounding you, you smell the freshly baked pot pie cooling and him, familiar and warm. You hear the soft hum of delight, the fire crackling, water moving around you. His oddly-textured skin beneath you, cool thighs and belly and chest that you can sink into, hot water and bubbles, a treat pressed against your lips, into your mouth, tea after. He says he grows everything he can. If you're very good, you can join him in the garden one day, lounge while he works and talks with you.

Everything he makes tastes like love, and you are soft and safe and warm, and less terrified than you should be.

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

Miles Morales x Male reader

When the reader has dyslexia and has trouble with spelling certain words or just forget how to spell the most simplest words ever gets insecure about their learning disability and then falls into a depressive episode (which is just them distancing themselves from other (Miles) for weeks)

First off please let me know if i got some things wrong. I myself don’t have dyslexia, so please correct me on anything. And I hope you’re okay if you’re feeling this way. Sending love and Miles Morales your way! <33 But seriously if you need to talk I’m here, okay? I hope you enjoy!

————

Distence Distance

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: When it has once again been made apparent spelling isn’t your strong suit, your mind spirals out of your own control.

Warnings: Swearing

Your brow furrowed. Is it tom—orrow? Or tom—morrow? This shouldn’t be this hard. It’s a word. A simple word. But despite your best efforts, you can’t get it. Defeated, you lean over and quietly tap your finger Miles’ arm. He knows about your dyslexia, and helps you whenever things get a little tough. He’s never made fun of you, and has never acted like he was annoyed with you asking him how to spell things. This is quite a common occurrence, but recently, nothing seems to click. It can go from constantly spelling a word wrong, to forgetting how to spell completely. Miles tells you all the time to not worry about it, but what does he know! He doesn’t ask his boyfriend how to spell tomorrow every night!

"Hm? Oh, what’s up?” He looks at you, finishing whatever word he was writing. Your finger drags over to the roadblock on your paper as you mumble a small ���Is this right?” Miles takes a look at your paper for a moment before softly shaking his head. “Ah, no, there’s only one m,” your shoulders slump, “but—uh—everything else was right!” His hands wave a little bit, trying to cheer you up. His eyes dart over you, searching for a reaction. A breath escapes your lips as you quietly thank him.

———

A few weeks later, Miles is proofreading your science paper. He’s got a red pen, and is occasionally writing his thoughts or correcting something. That’s to be expected, essays are about trial and error so of course it’s not gonna be perfect on the first try. What you don’t expect, is to find the pages covered with spelling corrections. You can’t even keep up with how many there are on the first page. As you look through, all you can see is what you got wrong. “Replace the i with an e”, “Erosion has one r”, “Con-VEC-tion, there’s a c”, “Don’t forget the—“. You quietly stop reading and get up to grab your things. Your thoughts are cloudy, even as Miles pulls you into a warm embrace to hopefully soothe your anguish. It doesn’t help.

“I gotta go,” you push away, “see you tomorrow..” Your feet lazily carry you out of his dorm room. Miles doesn’t protest. He knows sometimes being practically slapped with how much your disability affects you, doesn’t do you well. So he lets you go, knowing he’d see you tomorrow.

He couldn’t be anymore wrong.

———

Well he wasn’t entirely wrong. He did see you, but you had no intention to see him. Every glance he threw your way went unnoticed. Every time he tried to speak, your headphones went in. He saw your smile wasn’t there, and your usual glow was gone. All of these things worried Miles but he didn’t know what to do. His thoughts were focused around you for the whole day, and how he could help. In the end, he decided it’d be best if he just texted you. Maybe you just didn’t want to speak in person because of yesterday.

Yeah, that’s it. He’ll text you, comfort you, come over to your dorm, and cuddle and comfort you some more. A foolproof plan! Now all that’s left is to get through today.

———

You don’t respond to the first text.

You don’t respond to the second text.

You don’t respond to the third text.

You don’t read any of them. And he knows your read receipts are on.

Miles is frantic now. Where could you have gone? He knows you’d tell him if you were gonna be busy, and he knows he’d catch any signs of you thinking about….No. He wouldn’t let himself think about it. Maybe you just needed some space. It’s normal for a relationship, especially one as new as this. He decided to give it a day or two.

You’d come around eventually.

———

You didn’t come around.

It had been two weeks and Miles still hasn’t heard from you. You were still coming to school, but you arrived before everyone else, and somehow managed to get out before everyone left. If he tried to call you, it’d cut off immediately. If he texted you, it would stay on delivered—read if he was lucky—and if he tried to get into your room, you wouldn’t open the door. Even if your roommate was there, he’d always say: “Oh, [name]? Yeah he’s not here. Sorry.” Then the door would shut. Every day Miles tried. And every day Miles failed.

He’d spend his nights racking his brain for any clue, and reason for you to go a-wall like this. It’s not like you. Whenever something’s troubling you, he’d be the first to hear about it. For the millionth time, he tries to call your phone. And for the millionth time, you pick up. Just like he thought—

Wait what.

Miles sits up and hears quiet sobs on the other end. “H-hello? [Name]? Please answer me.” After a quiet moment you speak up. “Mhm?” Your voice is weak on the other end, but nonetheless, it’s your voice. Miles jumps out of his bed, already putting on a jacket and shoes. “Are you still in the dorms? Where are you?” He opens the window, waving to Ganke who’s woken up. “Please, love.”

“The park. The one we always go to.” Your voice is hoarse and hiccups are breaking through. “Alright. I’ll be there. Wait for me, okay?” He hops out the window and swings through the streets, keeping you on the line. At this point in time, Miles is a great swinger and has almost perfected the art. But tonight, he’s going faster than he’s ever gone before. Faster than his common sense would normally let him go. Even when making an escape, he’s careful to watch his speed just in case. Not tonight though. This is you. He’d risk everything for you.

In a matter of minutes, he’s at the park already looking for you. “[Name]? I’m here,” his eyes dart in every direction, “where exactly are you?” He jogs over to a nearby tree, catching a glimpse of a light from a phone screen. You’re silent for a few more moments as you can tell he’s the cause of those footsteps coming in your direction. So you just keep scrolling on your phone. Miles catches up to you, and before a word can be said, he’s fallen to the ground and pulled you into a hug. Possibly the tightest he’s ever hugged someone. And that’s the crack that sends the dam crumbling.

You break down and sob into his shoulder, clawing the fabric at his sides. The world no longer exists and it’s just you and him. You and the person who cares about you. You and the person who came for you. Miles’ grip tightens around your shoulders as stray tears escape his own eyes. “What happened? Why were you gone for so long?” He asks.

“I was tired of being stupid,” you manage to get out, “tired of being a burden.”

“A burden?!” Miles pulls away and cups your cheeks. “Now who told you that?”

“Don’t you understand, Miles?!” You shout. “I’m probably the dumbest person on this planet!!” He starts to object but you cut him off, “And don’t give me that “Oh but it makes you, you!” Bullshit.” You stand up and begin to pace around. “You can’t possibly wanna deal with me!” Your breath quickens and tears are still falling. “Couldn’t-couldn’t possibly wanna actually spend your life dealing with some who can’t spell for shit. Who’s always asking if he spelled—fucking i don’t know—Wednesday right.” You finally stop and stand in one place, hugging yourself tight. “I fucking hate it.”

Miles makes his way to you and pulls you into another hug. He doesn’t try to convince you otherwise because this isn’t the time. It’s time for you to let it all out, and for him to listen for as long as you need him to. He’s got you back and that’s all he needed. And right now you don’t know, but you needed him just as much if not more.

You two stay in the park and talk for what feels like hours. After two weeks of radio silence you’ve got a lot to say, and best believe your boyfriend is gonna take note of all of it.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

A/n: OMG HOLY SHIT WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG OMG. @babyqueen17 HERE YOU GO IT’S DONE!!!

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Ortho Shroud - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Master Chef ― Ortho Version ～Let’s Make Loco Moco 1～

―A short while before cooking begins

Ortho: ―Energy inspection complete. All functions, including the cooking and processing units, are operating normally.

Ortho: Everything activates without a hitch, great. I tried to make my exterior look similar to my brother's outfit when he took the class, does it look weird at all?

Azul: It looks fantastic on you, Ortho-san. However, I never expected to see you take an interest in cooking… I'm a little taken aback.

Ortho: It's only recently piqued my interest. Sometimes I hear my classmates swapping kitchen horror stories, you see.

Ortho: When someone said, "cooking is way too high level for newbies," it suddenly made me want to try to win against it… Which resulted in this gear being developed.

Azul: I see. And if you are to do a trial run of that gear here, the Master Chef course would be the best opportunity to do so.

Ortho: Exactly! I knew you'd get it, Azul-san.

Ortho: Not only can this gear cook food, but it's built with many other functions to manage proper nutrition or count calories and the like.

Ortho: I plan on getting the expert chef to check out my functions and test out what all would be useful for cooking!

Azul: I can see you're raring to go. Then, I'll wish us both luck.

Ortho: Yeah!

[Kitchen]

Ghost Chef: We'll have you make the "Loco Moco" dish for us today, Ortho-kun.

Ghost Chef: First, we'll have to prep the onions that'll be mixed into the hamburger meat. Do you know how to mince?

Ortho: Okay, I got this!

Ortho: ―Begining cooking procedures. Activating the Cooking Gear's Food Slicer Unit.

[whirrr… fsshhh…!]

Ghost Chef: H-HUUUUUUUUUUH!? HE TRANSFORMED!!?

Ortho: First, I need to adjust the shape so it will be easier to prepare. I need to swing vertically over the onion and… slice it in half!

Ortho: Great, looks like my knife is sharp enough! Umm, since this is for mixing in with hamburger meat…

Ortho: ―Executing command: "Target ingredient: Onion / Processing Method: Mince / Configuration: 3mm Squares"

Ghost Chef: W-Wow… The onion was finely chopped up in no time flat…!

Ortho: …Whew, I've finished with the onion. Will these be sufficient?

Ghost Chef: Y-Yeah, it's cut expertly, but… What exactly is that round blade that came out of your glove…?

Ortho: I took an industrial-grade cutter and downsized it so it could be used in cooking.

Ortho: It releases water as it cuts. This removes the necessity to clean both the blade and the ingredient.

Ghost Chef: You've sure come up with something interesting. But this is just too far removed from traditional cooking methods… Hmm.

Ortho: Different tools shouldn't cause any deviation from the recipe, though… Or should I have used a knife?

Ghost Chef: Well, I guess for your case, you have to cook like that… So I'll make an exception this time.

Ortho: Yay～! Okay then, I'm ready for the next part of the class!

Ortho: ―Activating Heat Sensor Camera. Calculating the temperature of the stir-fried onions… 38.2°C. Current temperature is 41°C lower than last measurement.

Ortho: According to my database, the best temperature range to continue cooking at after letting the dish simmer down is between 38～44°C. Chef, can we continue with the next step?

Ghost Chef: Sure, that's fine. So, next, take the ground meat, onions, and spices to form your hamburgers.

Ortho: Understood! ―Executing Command: Deploy Hand-Coating Gloves.

Ghost Chef: Woah! And now suddenly there are gloves attached to your hands. Is this another one of your technological applications?

Ortho: I'm using something similar to shrink wrap for this. It'd be pretty tough to do maintenance if my joints got dirtied.

Ghost Chef: Ah, that I can understand. It's just like how it's troublesome to have to wash everything that climbed up inside of an eggbeater.

Ortho: I thought as much. In the future, I'd like to equip some functions that would handle this effectively, but… This time, I want to try to knead it by hand

Ghost Chef: And why is that?

Ortho: It sounds like when my brother took this course, he didn't like this specific task.

Ortho: So I thought it'd be good to know the source of his stress, so I could factor that into the eventual kneading function…

[squish…]

Ortho: Hmm, maybe he didn't like how it felt when he touched it? Probably means if I can automate this task, everything'll be solved!

Ghost Chef: Sounds like you've figured out your answer, Ortho-kun.

Ghost Chef: By the way, your brother is Idia-kun, right? Has he changed at all since taking the course?

Ortho: Hmm, I don't think anything changed. He still doesn't really care about food at all…

Ortho: …Oh yeah! Maybe I can use this Cooking Gear to help improve his eating habits.

Ghost Chef: Eh!? You made all these functions without actually knowing what you'd use it for in the first place?

Ortho: Ehehe, so actually… I just made this because I wanted to "win at cooking!" So I didn't really have a particular use for it in mind.

Ghost Chef: Well, I guess that's a good enough reason to start. Also, even if it is an afterthought, I'm glad that you have a goal to strive for now.

Ortho: Yeah. Alright… Now I have to start improving this gear so I can make food that my brother'll want to eat!

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Ortho Version ～Let’s Make Loco Moco 2～

Ghost Chef: While we wait for the hamburger to cook, you can prepare the toppings. We'll garnish with cabbage and mini tomatoes for this dish.

Ghost Chef: The cabbage needs to be shredded, so… Are you able to adjust your cutting size in 0.1mm increments?

Ortho: By design, I should be able to. I would like to test it for myself, so could you tell me the specific size you're looking for?

Ghost Chef: Then, if you can, slice at 1.6mm.

Ortho: Got it!

Ortho: ―Executing command: "Target ingredient: Cabbage / Processing Method: Slice / Thickness Configuration: 1.6mm"

Ghost Chef: Woooah, very good! It was surprising when I first saw all this, but now it's really nice to see how quick and accurately you can cut.

Ortho: Simple tasks like these are a machine's strong point, after all! …Okay, I'm done! I wonder how the hamburger is coming along?

Ortho: ―Activating Heat Sensor Camera. Frying pan is holding steady at 16°C. Hamburger internal temperature: 34.5°C.

Ghost Chef: That's a pretty handy function, too. You don't need to take the lid off the frying pan to check how it's cooking, so there's no drop in temperature.

Ghost Chef: …Ah, oops. I let myself get a little too distracted watching your really neat functions.

Ghost Chef: Normally, it would take more time to prepare the toppings, but you're moving along smoothly.

Ortho: Ah! Then, while we wait for the hamburger to cook, can you explain to me more about the toppings?

Ortho: Cause toppings are kind of like power-ups from a video game, right? You don't really need them but it's better to have them.

Ortho: That's why I bet if I could know which toppings are the most filling, I could make my cooking even more efficient.

Ghost Chef: Hmm, that's a difficult question. It can vary depending on what you have on hand, and what you feel like using.

Ghost Chef: For example, I wanted to make sure there was nutritional balance, so this dish uses vegetables as a topping.

Ortho: If we were to remove the vegetables from this recipe… The vitamin intake would be reduced by 75%. It really would lose that nutritional balance.

Ghost Chef: In the past, I would serve it as a salad on the side, but there were so many kids who wouldn't even touch it, because they didn't want veggies.

Ortho: I get it, you revised the process fundamentally to help resolve your problem. I think that's a very reasonable method.

Ghost Chef: Haha, thank you. Yes, I'm glad I changed it up like this.

Ortho: Changes, hm… If I want to be able to add that as a possible function to the Cooking Gear, I'll have to gather a lot more data.

Ortho: If I can learn to swap out ingredients, it might help in dealing with my brother's bad eating habits.

Ortho: The more I learn about cooking, the more I can see all sorts of possible challenges, just like in a video game.

Ortho: ―And finally, I set the egg on top… Done! It's made to look like the dish I saw as the top hit in an image search.

Ghost Chef: Nice, you've plated it so beautifully and deliciously. I guess it's time for you to take it to the judging venue, then.

Ortho: Okay! I can't wait to see how the judge will react～

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Leona: Ughh… What a pain. Why do I need to be a judge for this Master Chef thing…?

Ortho: Sorry to keep you waiting! Oh, I see you were the one to order this dish, then.

Ortho: Here you go, this is the Loco Moco you requested! Please, enjoy!

Ortho: I want to use your assessment of the dish to help improve my Cooking Gear, so please be as candid as possible.

Leona: …Hey. Why're there vegetables in this loco moco? There wasn't any last time I ordered it.

Ortho: I heard this was a change made to help people eat their veggies. Great, right?

Leona: …Tch, way to do something completely unnecessary.

[bite, chew, chew, chew…]

Ortho: I followed the recipe exactly as it was written, so there shouldn't be any issues with the flavor… What do you think?

Leona: The hamburger and the gravy sauce taste fine. But because of all the veggies you threw in there, it shouldn't even get a single point.

Ortho: Ehhh, why!? I made sure to follow the recipe and throw in the right amount, size, and cooking time for all the ingredients!

Leona: Why should I care? All that matters is the judge's opinion, yeah? The recipe means nothin' if it don't suit my taste.

Ortho: …So without considering any of the general judging criteria, this dish "doesn't taste good" to you?

Leona: Basically. But hey, maybe you coulda gotten high marks if you'd just left the veg out like it's always been made.

Ortho: By adding the vegetables, it gave the dish a better nutritional balance. But Leona-san would have preferred no vegetables…

Leona: Geez, can't believe you'd just ruin a good meal like that. Since the judging's over, I'm outta here.

Ortho: Ah, he left…  I can't really understand how someone could say a dish that satisfies nutritional needs "doesn't taste good."

Ghost Chef: Leona-kun must really hate vegetables, if he couldn't get past even this small addition.

Ortho: Ah, I should have asked why he hates vegetables to help me with figuring out how to change up recipes!

Ghost Chef: Ortho-kun… Are you actually happy with that result?

Ortho: Yes! The more data I can gather on any issues, the better I can improve my Cooking Gear!

Ghost Chef: Well, I guess I'm glad you're not sad after hearing that, but… Why does that make you that excited?

Ortho: Leona-san was already unhappy with the dish even before tasting it. That means he had already decided it wouldn't taste good just from looking at it.

Ortho: The challenge rating just shot up, now that I have to keep an eye on visual aesthetics, taste and nutrition… Of course that gets me super pumped up!

Ortho: I might be a long way away from being able to tackle my brother's bad eating habits, but… I'll definitely do my best to make my Cooking Gear even better!

Requested by Anonymous.

[tokimihyachi]

right where you left me

pairing/s: neuvillette x reader context: fontaine's chief justice experiences his first heartbreak and realizes he may be in love. desperately and hopelessly so.

He supposed it was fine.

For a whole week, Neuvillette had meticulously planned on taking you out for dinner so that he could confess by the insistence of Sedene with the support of all Melusines. After all, they were tired of watching the two of you chasing each other in circles.

It didn't matter if he was the Chief Justice of Fontaine with a jam-packed schedule. It did not matter even if he's just finished one of the worst and most soul-draining trials in his time as the Iudex. He would drop it all at your beckon; in a heartbeat if you asked him, needed him. So long as it was you the word hesitation could kiss itself goodbye. He doesn't have the time, but for you, he could.

But due to an emergency, you had to cancel at the last minute.

There is an old saying that tells the tale of a dragon’s hardened shell made from the rarest and strongest of ores in all of Teyvat; a material of stardust no mortal could ever dream to acquire. And yet in these small moments that equated some sort of indirect rejection from you, he rather thought that perhaps his shell was not as tough as the other Sovereigns. 

“Monsier Neuvillette, are you sure it's fine?”

He watches the way your eyes crinkle, the anticipation of disappointment from him settling in your gaze as you await his reply, and the thought of being selfish just this once is clawing within his chest. Be honest, say the truth. He had lived under the light of truth for as long he breathed so why was it so hard to do so now?

But he also catches your subtle, minuscule gaze at the clock behind him and he knows whatever the emergency was is important to you. And the mere thought of him preventing you from being where you should be, somewhere, with someone far more consequential than him wounds him.

Neuvillette wondered that if love always felt as agonizing as this, why would any person willingly place themselves in such torment? And yet one look at you and he knew. If he could endure a heartache for a single moment with you...

He would endure a hundred more.

“Of course, [Name]. We can reschedule another time.”

The restaurant would always be open, doors waiting for your steps, valets expecting your presence. But that did not change the fact that it ached and hurt in every crevice of his hollow heart he never knew he could feel pain from. 

But since it was you, it should be fine.

It's fine.

It is fine.

But it also hurts. 

Why does it hurt this much?

[heresmyfiddlestick]

Tumblr Dr. Who Poll vs Doctor Who Magazine Poll

It's been just over a month since the end of @adventure-showdown 's monumental survey of how Tumblr feels about individual Doctor Who adventures. Across ten rounds, we sorted the wheat from the chaff, the Quarks from the Rills, and the Cousins from the Looms. I wanted to compare the results of that huge bracket with the results from last year's Doctor Who Magazine poll, which ranked each Doctor's stories individually.

The methodologies for these two were quite different (though adventure-showdown did seed the bracket with a pre-poll that used the same methodology as DWM, but I'm looking at the final poll results for my data here), so comparing them is really interesting! I'm not a statistician, I just like making spreadsheets for fun. I think what can be seen from the trends and data below is a really unique picture of two somewhat overlapping but seriously demographically distinct fragments of the fandom.

Methodologies

Poll Methodologies

The DWM poll asked readers to rank as many televised Doctor Who stories as they liked from 1 to 10. The editors then took the resulting scores for each story and put them in a ranked list for each Doctor.

adventure-showdown began with a series of Google Forms with the same method as DWM, asking internet users to rank stories from 1 to 10. adventure-showdown lumped and split stories differently to DWM: The Key to Time was included as a distinct Four story to each of its individual parts, and each of the individual parts of Trial of a Time Lord and Flux were included alongside the overarching story. Utopia was also split from The Sound of Drums/The Last of the Time Lords.

adventure-showdown used the resulting rankings to create a series of Tumblr polls, moving from a group stage into a series of head-to-head matchups. They matched stories up roughly by obscurity (keeping advertisements and musical numbers separate from audio dramas and comics, which were separate from TV spin-offs, which were separate from the TV show itself), then Doctor or era. With each new round, the matchups were scrambled within melded groups, which ultimately led to a diverse distribution of all different eras and media under the umbrella of Doctor Who throughout the tournament.

My Methodology

In order to turn adventure-showdown's poll results into something that can be compared to DWM's, I created a spreadsheet tracking how each Doctor's stories were doing, separating them first into tiers according to which round they were eliminated in, then within those tiers by how many votes they had in the matchup where they were eliminated.

In the case of some particularly tough matchups, this means that the story that got the most points throughout the entire competition is not necessarily the highest-ranked story for that Doctor. For instance, The Happiness Patrol finished #3 of the Seventh Doctor's stories according to my reckoning of the Tumblr poll, being eliminated in the fifth round with 400 votes, less than the two stories above it (which were eliminated in rounds where they got 147 and 107 votes, respectively). The Happiness Patrol saw a vigorous campaign to increase its vote count, since it was up against Blink. The post for the matchup that eliminated it currently has 304 notes as of this writing. This is one of the fun quirks of this execrise.

General Trends

Where We Agree

The Ninth Doctor shows very stable story rankings between DWM and Tumblr.

On average, the difference in rankings for each episode of 9 is 5%, with only 2 out of 10 stories actually moving up or down the rankings at all. The Sixth Doctor is similar: only 3 of his 8 stories (included in the DWM poll, meaning not counting the individual parts of Trial) moved by more than 1 ranking. The Seventh Doctor only had 4 of his 12 stories move by more than 1 ranking.

On the flipside, Tumblr's opinions differ from DWM most regarding the First, Fifth, and Eleventh Doctors. The only stories that stayed relatively stable across both rankings for these Doctors are as follows.

For the First Doctor, only 4 out of 29 didn't shift by more than 1 ranking: #2 The Time Meddler, #5 The Tenth Planet (#6 in DWM), #18 The Keys of Marinus, and #20 The Reign of Terror (#19 in DWM) For the Fifth Doctor, we agreed only 5 times out of 20: #1 The Caves of Androzani, #2 The Five Doctors (#3 in DWM), #11 Frontios, #14 Black Orchid, and #17 Arc of Infinity (#16 in DWM) For Eleven, 5 of his 39 stories stayed relatively stable: #1 Vincent and the Doctor (#2 in DWM), #4 The Eleventh Hour (#3 in DWM), #9 Amy's Choice, #14 The Snowmen (#13 in DWM), and #39 The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe.

As you'll see further below, there is usually agreement between both polls about at least one episode that is in the top and bottom 3 or 4 for each Doctor, so these extremes represent the battle over ordering the ones generally ranked in the middle.

We Hate Daleks

As a general trend, Tumblr seems to think less of Dalek stories than the general DWM readership.

Out of 26 stories with Daleks as the primary antagonist, only 8 did not drop by more than 1 slot between the DWM poll and the Tumblr bracket (that is The Chase, Genesis of the Daleks, Remembrance of the Daleks, Dalek, Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways, Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks, The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar, and Eve of the Daleks). DIM/Evolution actually ranked 3 slots higher on Tumblr than the magazine, while TMA/TWF and Eve finished significantly higher on Tumblr than in the magazine, cracking into the top 5 for their respective Doctors.

We Love The Master

Meanwhile, out of 26 stories featuring the Master, either as the primary antagonist or as an important character, only two dropped by more than one place in the rankings (The End of Time and The Power of the Doctor), while the others either stayed put or increased their positions, some by quite a lot (e.g. The Time Monster (up 20 slots in the Third Doctor rankings), The Keeper of Traken (up 8 slots in the Fourth Doctor rankings), Planet of Fire (up 6 spots in the Fifth Doctor rankings), and The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar (up 9 spots in the Twelfth Doctor rankings)).

We Have No Easily Observable Feelings About the Cybermen

Out of 18 Cyberman stories, 9 fell in the rankings between DWM and Tumblr, while 5 stayed within 1 rank of the DWM poll, and 4 rose. If I had to venture a hypothesis based on my unscientific qualitative analysis, it looks like Tumblr marked down most of the Classic Who Cyberman stories (only The Tenth Planet, The Invasion, and Attack staying within 1 rank of the DWM poll), while the only ones that rose in the ranks were New Who stories (Rise/The Age of Steel, Closing Time, Nightmare in Silver, and Dark Water/Death in Heaven-- though of course this last one is also a Master story, which we know we love).

Superlatives

Here are the stories that showed the biggest positive and negative difference in their rankings between the DWM poll and the Tumblr bracket, for each Doctor:

First Doctor

Biggest jump: #10 The Sensorites (up from #27 in DWM) Biggest fall: #28 The Crusade (down from #13 in DWM)

Second Doctor

Biggest jump: #8 The Highlanders (up from #16 in DWM) Biggest fall: #14 The Evil of the Daleks (down from #14 in DWM)

Third Doctor

Biggest jump: #4 The Time Monster (up from #24 in DWM) Biggest fall: #21 Day of the Daleks (down from #11 in DWM)

Fourth Doctor

Biggest jump: #7 The Horns of Nimon (up from #40 in DWM) Biggest fall: #36 The Talons of Weng-Chiang (down from #5 in DWM)

Fifth Doctor

Biggest jump: #8 Planet of Fire (up from #14) Biggest fall: #15 Resurrection of the Daleks (down from #6)

Sixth Doctor

Biggest jump: #1 The Mark of the Rani (up from #5 in DWM) Biggest fall: #6 Revelation of the Daleks (down from #1 in DWM) [NB: not counting each part of Trial, since DWM didn't include them - though The Ultimate Foe ranked #10 on Tumblr while Trial itself ranked #4 in DWM, so that could be another option for this superlative]

Seventh Doctor

Biggest jump: #3 The Happiness Patrol (up from #7 in DWM) Biggest fall: #12 Silver Nemesis (down from #9 in DWM)

Ninth Doctor

Biggest jump: #5 The End of the World (up from #7 in DWM) Biggest fall: #7 Rose (down from #5 in DWM)

Tenth Doctor

Biggest jump: #17 42 (up from #31 in DWM) Biggest fall: #29 The Girl in the Fireplace (down from #7 in DWM) [NB: adventure-showdown split Utopia and The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords where DWM didn't, which both placed above these two stories.]

Eleventh Doctor

Biggest jump: #13 The Rings of Akhaten (up from #34 in DWM) Biggest fall: #36 The Crimson Horror (down from #18 in DWM)

Twelfth Doctor

Biggest jump: #20 The Eaters of Light (up from #30 in DWM) Biggest fall: #18 The Zygon Invasion/The Zygon Inversion (down from #7 in DWM)

Thirteenth Doctor

Biggest jump: TIE #1 Demons of the Punjab (up from #5), #2 Spyfall (up from #6), and #3 Eve of the Daleks (up from #7) Biggest fall: #15 Rosa (down from #4) [NB: not counting each part of Flux, since DWM didn't include them - though The Vanquishers ranked #29 on Tumblr while Flux itself ranked #12 in DWM, so that could be another option for this superlative]

Definitive Bests and Worsts

Here, then, are each Doctor's commonly agreed-upon best and worst stories: that is, those stories ranked in each Doctor's top/bottom 10% (minimum 3) in each poll, and where both polls overlap. Lists are alphabetical.

First Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The Time Meddler Tumblr: The Edge of Destruction, The Romans DWM: The Dalek Invasion of Earth, The Daleks' Master Plan Worst Tumblr: The Crusade, The Savages, The Smugglers DWM: The Sensorites, The Space Museum, The Web Planet

Second Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The War Games Tumblr: The Enemy of the World, The Mind Robber DWM: The Power of the Daleks, Tomb of the Cybermen Worst Both agree: The Dominators, The Space Pirates Tumblr: The Krotons DWM: The Underwater Menace

Third Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The Green Death Tumblr: The Dæmons, The Three Doctors DWM: Inferno, Spearhead from Space Worst Both agree: The Mutants Tumblr: Death to the Daleks, Planet of the Daleks DWM: The Monster of Peladon, The Time Monster

Fourth Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: City of Death, Genesis of the Daleks, Robots of Death Tumblr: The Horror of Fang Rock DWM: Pyramids of Mars Worst Both agree: The Power of Kroll, Underworld Tumblr: Nightmare of Eden, Revenge of the Cybermen DWM: The Horns of Nimon, Meglos

Fifth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The Caves of Androzani, The Five Doctors Tumblr: Enlightenment DWM: Earthshock Worst Both agree: Time-Flight Tumblr: The Awakening, Four to Doomsday DWM: The King's Demons, Warriors of the Deep

Sixth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: Vengeance on Varos Tumblr: The Mark of the Rani, Trial of a Time Lord (considered as a whole) Worst Both agree: Timelash, The Twin Dilemma Tumblr: The Ultimate Evil (specifically) DWM: Attack of the Cybermen

Seventh Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: Remembrance of the Daleks, Survival Tumblr: The Happiness Patrol DWM: The Curse of Fenric Worst Both agree: Delta and the Bannermen, Time and the Rani Tumblr: Silver Nemesis DWM: Paradise Towers

Ninth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: Bad Wolf/The Parting of Ways, Dalek, The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances Worst Both agree: Aliens of London/World War Three, Boom Town, The Long Game

Tenth Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: Blink, Midnight, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead Tumblr: The Fires of Pompeii DWM: Human Nature/The Family of Blood Worst Both agree: The Idiot's Lantern, The Lazarus Experiment Tumblr: The Next Doctor, The Shakespeare Code DWM: Fear Her, Love & Monsters

Eleventh Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: The Eleventh Hour, The Pandorica Opens, Vincent and the Doctor Tumblr: The Doctor's Wife DWM: Day of the Doctor Worst Both agree: The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe Tumblr: The Crimson Horror, Night Terrors, Victory of the Daleks DWM: The Curse of the Black Spot, Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS, Nightmare in Silver

Twelfth Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: Heaven Sent, Mummy on the Orient Express, World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls Tumblr: The Husbands of River Song DWM: Flatline Worst Both agree: In the Forest of the Night, Kill the Moon, Sleep No More Tumblr: The Lie of the Land DWM: The Woman Who Lived

Thirteenth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

[Villa Diodati gif included because there is no overlap in the two polls' top 3 for Thirteen, however this episode ranked #4 on Tumblr and #2 in DWM, so it is the closest overlap at the top.]

Best Both agree: None! Tumblr: Eve of the Daleks, Demons of the Punjab, Spyfall DWM: Fugitive of the Judoon, The Haunting of Villa Diodati, The Power of the Doctor Worst Both agree: The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, Orphan 55 Tumblr: The Vanquishers (on its own) DWM: Legend of the Sea Devils

...What about Eight?

Who said that? I thought you had all gone. You shouldn't scare me like that. Well, you see, the Eighth Doctor only has two televised appearances in which he features, and only one of those was included in the DWM poll. This post is about comparing the two polls. I can't really do anything...

Ah, alright.

Televised Appearances

We ranked The Night of the Doctor above the TV Movie. Night made it all the way to round 6, while the TV Movie was out in Round 2, losing with 266 votes to Jubilee, which then lost to Scherzo in the next round. Night lost to Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways, which had 344 votes to Night's 204.

Audios

Scherzo made it to the quarter-finals of the Tumblr poll! It lost out to Midnight 435 to 581, the first TV episode it encountered in adventure-showdown's very intricate media-segregating bracket.

Caerdroia made it to round 7, losing to Scherzo after it had beaten out Father's Day in round 6 (299-280) and the much-loved SJA episode The Curse of Clyde Langer in round 5.

The Natural History of Fear made it to round 6, finally losing out to Blink (253-352), and making it the top-scoring Eight audio to go out in this round.

The Chimes of Midnight also got to round 6, finally just losing to Remembrance of the Daleks (163-166); in the same round, Zagreus lost to Scherzo (131-210) just after it had beaten Genesis of the Daleks (132-103) in round 5.

The next highest-ranked Eight* audio is Solitaire (a Companion Chronicle, hence the asterisk), which was eliminated in round 5, losing to Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead (180-43).

It's worth noting here, that Doctor Who and the Pirates also made it to round 6, making it the highest-ranked non-Eighth Doctor audio. It lost to City of Death (170-78). The next-highest ranked audios are The Marian Conspiracy (lost in Round 5 to The Wedding of Sarah-Jane Smith), The Holy Terror (lost in Round 5 to The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances), and A Death in the Family (lost in Round 5 to The Natural History of Fear). Congratulations to Evelyn Smythe.

Novels

The EDA Alien Bodies managed to make it to round 6, finally being eliminated by Turn Left with 145 votes to 264. It had just beaten out Time Crash in the previous round. This makes it the highest-ranked Doctor Who novel overall, according to this Tumblr tournament.

The next-highest novel for the Eighth Doctor was Unnatural History, which was defeated in round 5 by The Chimes of Midnight.

Below that, there were five EDAs eliminated in round 4:

Interference (lost with 41 votes to Scherzo's 85)

Mad Dogs and Englishmen (lost with 38 votes to The Marian Conspiracy's 56)

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street (lost with 28 votes to A Death in the Family's 54)

Camera Obscura (lost with 27 votes to Lungbarrow's 47)

The Scarlet Empress (lost with 22 votes to The Chimes of Midnight's 102)

Comics

I hadn't actually been tracking any of this Eight stuff, so I'm having to squint through the backlog and this is already much too long. So you're only getting two: The Land of Happy Endings is the Eighth Doctor comic that made it the farthest in the Tumblr competition, being eliminated in round 3 by An Adventure in Space and Time (46 votes to 95). The Flood also made it to round 3, where it was eliminated by the Thirteenth Doctor comic Old Friends, gaining 39 votes against Old Friends' 47.

[alisonthedeluluisback]

Rating movies about nazi germany I have watched

First of all, I want to make it clear that this isn't a professional review, it's only my opinion

I liked the proposal of the story being centered around a nazi family and the younger boy befriending a jew, but all of that goes down the drain due to the multiple historical inaccuracies: the children learned about nazism very early, so there is no way bruno would have been that innocent. Also, concentration camps wasn't of that much easy access. The appeal to emotion instead of actually building a deep plot also sucks. 5/10

I absolutely adored this movie, the plot is so deep, the construction around the persecution of Liesel's parents, her relationship with her adoptive parents, the brotherhood she had with the jew hiding in their house, her tough but sweet personality, her desire for knowledge. It was all so beautifully orchestrated, and also the historical accuracy>>>>>> 10/10

This movie will always be a classic for me. The way they portrayed nazis as they were, human, vulnerable, with a distorted view of the world but still seeking what they thought was the best. How they went deep down into the life in the bunker, the despair and hopelessness they felt. Also, the way they portrayed Eva Braun>>>> how she tried to sugarcoat everything not to suffer, how she threw parties in the hallway of death, how even in a desperate situation the greatest joy of her life was to marry the terrible man she fell in love with and was blindly loyal too. Everything is so heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. Also, the historical accuracy is just a delight. 1000/10

This is a true punch in the gut. The terrible way he lost his family, the inhuman life he lived in the guetto, his part in the warsaw guetto riot, how he kept his beautiful talent immaculate till the end, when he lost the love of his life and had to see her married, the hunger, mistreating and fear that were a part of his daily life, his brave survival. Everything about this movie is truly sad. 9/10

I won't even talk much about this one. I start it laughing and finished it on the verge of crying. It is funny, heartbreaking, the perfect mix between comedy and tragedy, the true definition of bittersweetness. 100/10

Following the same road of the last one, there's this piece of art. It had everything to go wrong, but it went beautifully. They made something outrageous turn out funny without being offensive, and yet made a deep, tragic and beautiful story. The underlying romance between that ex-soldier and his assistant, the way jojo changed his mentality gradually, and his absurd view of hitler. It was surprisingly very historically accurate, but Im still confused about: how was jojo not sent to an orphanage after his mother died? How did he survive on his own? Anyways, this was a negative point for me, but still love it. 50/10

Okay, I absolutely love this one, but hate to death how they slipped over such simple aspects, like Hitler's personality. They made him hit a dog when in fact he defended animal's rights, they made him not give a shit about his mom being ill when in fact he loved her dearly. They changed his personality to make him seem even more evil. But, I also have plenty of positive points to talk about. I rarely see movies portraying Hitler's early life the way this one did, and how he ascended gradually to power. I love this miniseries deeply for getting into details about his whole life. They even aborded his abusive relationship with his niece. I can almost forgive the outrageous innacuracy with the characters and the altering of some details (how he earned his iron cross, how he met eva braun, how he treated fuschl), and I love it despite its defects. It also has some iconic scene: the bar fight, the munich beer hall putch, the trial. I wish I could give a 1000/10, but because of its innacuracies im giving it a 500/10

Nazis getting brutally slaughtered. Do I really have to say anything else? Also, Hans Landa>>>>>>>> ∞/10

[mighty-ant]

A Good Landing, chapter thirteen

first | previous

ao3

The Drake of three years ago never could’ve imagined that he’d be someone’s husband one day. 

To be fair, a wedding would be tough to plan when one didn’t technically exist. He had Drake Mallard erased from record nearly a decade ago, reduced him to less than a ghost, less than a footnote. It wasn’t particularly difficult to do, with as little impact as Drake Mallard had made on the world. A rejected son, a failed actor, a selfish, bitter, friendless loser. 

He fell into SHUSH by chance, by sheer, brilliant happenstance. 

As a former stuntman, he knew how to throw a punch. And a lot more than that. He wasn’t proud of it, but after the 8th pointless audition for a toothpaste commercial with no callback, he took to slipping out of his crummy basement apartment in a ski mask and whaling on petty criminals in his neighborhood, St. Canard’s East End. He tried not to punch above his weight, going after would-be muggers or your typical creeps, and every dawn, as sickly, gray sunlight spilled out over the city, he would trudge back home with sore muscles and a gaping chasm in his chest that no amount of violent retribution would be enough to fill. 

But he was getting pretty good at beating up crooks, to the point where regular people took notice. He started showing up in the news as ‘the dark masked duck’ more than Drake Mallard ever did, and even as the emptiness yawned within him, he liked it. The attention, indirect as it was. And he wanted more. 

Beating drug dealers bloody didn’t pay the bills unless he wanted to turn into some sort of hitman, so he kept up his stunt work during the day. His after hours activities kept him sharp, and there was no end to the mindless action flicks in need of nameless stuntmen. 

There was one flick, some old school vampire thing, that had him flying around on wires for Vampire Thrall #1-4 and the Vampire King. The costume department put him in a cape, a long, flowing thing that flared with his movement, made him look bigger than he really was. He startled more than a few techs with a perfectly timed swing of his cape, the snap of fabric especially jarring when all else was silent. 

And just like that, Drake knew what he had to do. 

As a former student of a theater department with a dwindling, near-nonexistent budget, he’d performed in every role, from lead actor to stagehand. And borrowing one of the vampire capes from set to use as reference, he made Darkwing Duck’s first costume. 

The gas guns and the catchphrases developed over time, through trial and error. He flubbed his lines more than once and set off his apartment’s fire alarm an embarrassing number of times. Until one night, when Darkwing Duck became fully realized. 

He started noticing a pattern with a certain number of thieves, most of them teens or kids barely out of high school. He followed them for about a week, not interfering since they never actually hurt anyone, before they led him to the warehouse where they were dropping everything off. 

Drake burst in, expecting to beatdown a few scary gang types who thought it a swell idea to recruit kids to do their dirty work, only to stumble headfirst into a smuggling ring that (he’d later learn) spanned the entirety of Calisota. With his cover blown and the exit blocked, Drake did the only thing he was good at. He fought. 

As he launched one of their own tear gas canisters back at the last of the goons, SHUSH agents came storming in. Apparently he’d interrupted what had been a multi-part sting five months in the making, but in doing so caught the gang so off guard that nearly all of the bosses were there to meet his fists, and the rest were caught when their business partners squealed on them. 

“We’ve been watching you,” the lead agent said. He held his hand out to Drake. “How would you like to continue your work somewhere other than a basement?”

He accepted, barely waiting for the agent to even finish speaking, and Drake Mallard disappeared into Darkwing Duck’s shadow, gleefully casting aside everything that made for a normal life in favor of casefiles and chemistry sets. Who needed friends or neighbors when Quackerjack was robbing the federal gold depository? Or Megavolt was stealing the city’s power, or Bushroot was turning everyone into vampire potatoes (you get the idea)?

Darkwing Duck had the tech, and the secret base, and the costume, and the fear. By design, the average citizen was meant to consider him a myth; the criminal underworld, they knew who he was all too well. 

The years went by, years of living out his secret, selfish fantasies, and…he felt nothing. That hollow, carved out space inside him didn’t go away, or heal at all. If anything it became a constant companion, a pain that festered into numbness. 

After the adrenaline high burned itself out, he felt the ache of his bruised, bleeding body, drowned in the yawning emptiness of the Tower. There was so much crime in St. Canard, not just supervillains but cruel, petty evils that made it feel as though he were battling the tide with a bat and a cardboard shield. 

But he couldn’t go back now. Back to small, sniveling Drake Mallard who nobody gave a damn about. Who would have him? Who would want him?

And then. 

A Darkwing-shaped hole in the roof of a plane hangar. A jet, presented as a gift. Smiles over coffee and warm hands holding his aching body close. 

Launchpad, who had far more reason to turn jaded and cruel than Drake ever did, but stayed good despite the way the world chewed him up and spat him back out. Launchpad, who offered his bruised heart with trembling smiles, trusting Drake even as he risked further pain. 

Launchpad, who made Drake want to try. 

Try to be good, too. Try to be whole. A worthy partner. 

And then. 

An orphan with boundless spirit. Lullabies, hugs that left him breathless, a blazing red portal and a tiny, fragile hand clasped in his own, trusting him when everyone else had failed her. 

He never saw Gosalyn coming. How could he? Fatherhood was a foreign concept, a cruel joke, his frame of reference poisonous and pointless. But then Gosalyn fit into their life like a missing puzzle piece, as if he’d been waiting for her all along and he’d only just glanced down and taken notice. Her happiness began to matter more than any number of stakeouts or foiled plots. To keep her safe, he would kill and die for her. 

Before his eyes, the empty numbness inside him transformed into a well of rage, of love, so powerful it made him wonder if he’d ever truly been alive before now. 

For them, his heroes, he had to do more than just try.

Then of course Launchpad just had to show him up by proposing first, but that was just par for the course. And Drake could admit that a moonlit flight in the Thunderquack was probably more romantic than anything he could’ve come up with. 

All that mattered was the end result was the same. A family, his family, unlike anything he would’ve been capable of imagining for himself. Just the thought of how he used to be shamed him, and on especially bad nights, he worried about regressing into that shell of a man, a cold, caustic version of himself and the bitter loneliness he enforced. 

But that fear seemed insignificant when they were flying to Des Moines for their wedding, and for Gosalyn to meet her new grandparents. When they went house hunting and found a two-story marvel with a lovely kitchen backsplash and a tree out front for Gosalyn to give him a heart attack by climbing. 

They still had their rough days, obviously. 

Something might remind Gosalyn of her grandpa, and the life that was stolen from her, and she would lash out over any little thing in dramatic teenager fashion. 

Launchpad’s nightmares about his old life could keep him from sleep for days at a time and in his exhaustion he would turn withdrawn in their own home, hesitating before every kiss, every hug or high five, staring at Drake and Gosalyn as if they might vanish if he were to dare reach out and touch them. 

Drake would get overwhelmed by the muchness of it all—fighting crime had nothing on back-to-school shopping, meal prepping, hockey meets, and the dreaded potlucks. PTA meetings made him want to give up on this whole ‘reenter society' schtick and lock himself back in the Tower for good. 

 The crime fighting part was no walk in the park either. For all that Gosalyn was growing into the role of Quiverwing, making it her own, with the help of the two best teachers she could’ve asked for, there was a lot she just still wasn’t ready to face. Things that Drake hadn’t been ready to face, and haunted him still. Demons, alternate dimensions, a monster carrying out evil while wearing his face, Bulba lumbering back from the dead, more machine than man.

Safe to say they saw their fair share of danger, and weirdness, in St. Canard. But sitting in the Thunderquack with Launchpad’s boss, his former SHUSH handler, and a fellow worried father was…something else. 

For almost two years, Launchpad’s job in Duckburg had been just that: a job. One that came at the request of SHUSH, and more specifically the buff Mary Puffins currently sitting in the copilot seat. The life of the richest duck in the world was apparently in danger, at risk by FOWL and their shadowy machinations, and everyone knew McDuck wasn’t the same man he was a decade ago.

Drake didn’t care about McDuck, much less whatever was going on in their perfect sister city of Duckburg. As great as a second income would be for Gos’ college fund, he wasn’t about to pressure Launchpad into accepting a SHUSH assignment now, after everything he’d told Drake, and all the worst bits that he’d probably left out. If Drake’s own SHUSH stipend as an independent contractor wasn’t enough to suit their needs, then Launchpad could open another garage in the city, or an online shop for his knitting, or even a damn lemonade stand. 

But no. As a favor to Beakley (who didn’t deserve Launchpad’s time of day, but that was just Drake’s opinion), he accepted the position as McDuck’s chauffeur. And it was…fine. 

Launchpad drove the old coot to and from his meetings, collected dry cleaning, the usual. He would pick up Gos from her hockey practice on the way home, nap with Drake for a while, and then they’d either suit up as a family or someone would stay behind to help Gos with her language arts homework. It was their routine, and amid various potentially life-altering catastrophes, it was nearly perfect. 

And then McDuck got it in his head to start adventuring again at the ripe old age of 800 years old, dragging an entire spontaneous gaggle of children and Launchpad along with him. Suddenly, Drake could go entire days without seeing his husband, or Gos her father, as he gallivanted off to parts unknown at the beck and call of an old man who’d never appreciated him in the first place. 

Now, Launchpad was the kindest soul Drake had ever met, open with his affection, and ready to make friends with everyone from derelict superheroes to business-minded witches. But Drake’s darling, beautiful husband was not the most forthright individual, and this was coming from the reigning champ of emotional stuntedness. 

Launchpad liked to feel useful. Scratch that. Launchpad needed to feel useful. It was a compulsion born from his years at SHUSH, where his skills were all that mattered to people. Even allies, friends (and some more-than-friends), would drop him as soon as the mission was complete, the day was saved. Launchpad would be left in the lurch, told to pack his things, move onto the next mission, and wonder why he hadn’t done enough for them to let him stay. 

So Drake, grudgingly, understood why Launchpad hadn’t just told McDuck to buzz off and find himself another pilot. He cared about the miserable old miser, and he cared about the kids, who sounded nearly as spirited as Gos from the way he described them. 

More than once, Launchpad actually floated the idea of holding some kind of get-together for all of them, but Drake had been…resistant. He didn’t like meeting new people at the best of times, and he was still so traumatized by the Muddlefoots that he would’ve forced them to move years ago if it wouldn’t mean earning ‘Worst Father of the Year Award’ for separating Gos from Honker. 

Of course, Launchpad’s disappearing act forced the dreaded introduction anyway, because Drake’s life was nothing if not a series of jokes played at his expense. At the very least, once he entered the coordinates into the Thunderquack’s navigation system and the cockpit sealed, none of the three other ducks on board had much interest in smalltalk. 

From the copilot’s seat, Beakley turned toward him sharply, expression tight and any indication of stress tucked away. Back to business then. 

“Who is this enemy of yours that you suspect to be responsible?” 

Beneath them, Duckburg blurred past in shades of ochre as the distant sun inched toward the bay. Drake stared straight ahead, gripping the yoke just to have something to do with his hands, as the autopilot took care of the actual flying. 

Technically he could only suspect who might be responsible. If based on a simple process of elimination it was almost a foregone conclusion, taking into account who wasn’t currently in jail but also had the cunning and/or intimidation factor to gain access to SHUSH systems. Not to mention a single-minded hatred of Drake that would motivate them to ignore every bit of actual highly sensitive and ultra-classified intelligence up for grabs.

For once, Drake desperately hoped he was wrong. He prayed they’d get to this SHUSH blacksite and find Lilliput lying in wait instead. But he could never be that lucky.

“Negaduck,” he muttered, the name escaping him on a breath. In his peripheral vision, he saw McDuck and Donald stiffen at his tone, more apprehensive that he would’ve liked. 

“He’s me,” Drake explained haltingly. “Sort of. At least, he’s a version of me from an alternate dimension.”

Behind him, Donald dropped his head into one hand. “Of course he is…” he despaired quietly. “Cuz being from this dimension would be too simple.”

“McDuck.” Drake turned his head slightly without facing the quadrillionaire directly. “Do you remember a scientist who worked for you three years ago? Thadeus Waddlemeyer. He was trying to create a machine to access other dimensions.” 

“A-aye,” McDuck said slowly. “But he…passed, and his device was deemed too unstable after it was stolen and nearly destroyed St. Canard.”

Drake scowled at the windshield. ‘Passed’ was a kinder way of saying murdered, and as much as the reminder burned him, he distantly appreciated McDuck’s tact if nothing else. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Our dimension’s Waddlemeyer wasn’t able to crack the code, but the Waddlemeyer of the Negaverse did.” 

“Negaverse?” Donald repeated. 

Drake thought for a moment of how Bellum and his kid had first explained it to him, reeling after his first and last disastrous visit. 

“Think of it like a mirror of our dimension, but the funhouse kind. Almost everyone, everything, is twisted so that they’re the opposite of who we are here, now. There, Waddlemeyer was a mad scientist, willing to sell the Ramrod to the highest bidder. There, SHUSH is trying to take over the world, while FOWL is a peacekeeping organization working to stop them, yadda yadda, you get the picture. 

“There, the Negaverse version of me terrorized St. Canard. He stole the Ramrod, plus Waddlemeyer’s granddaughter, and used it to cross over into our dimension to try and take over here too. I found where he was hiding his Ramrod about six months ago, and destroyed it, trapping him here. Which he, uh…extra hates me for.”

“What can we expect from him?” Beakley demanded. Drake had noticed her expectant silence up until now, and his aggravation had been building steadily For all that she was ‘retired’ from SHUSH, clearly she still had access to mission briefings—his and Launchpad’s in particular, seeing how she just couldn’t leave his husband alone. She could probably guess Negaduck’s MO, if she didn’t already have his full psych profile memorized. 

“Well he’s insane, for starters,” Drake said for the benefit of the ducks in the rear of the plane. “But don’t underestimate him—he’s dangerously smart, too, and just plain dangerous. He hides all kinds of weapons on his person: knives, guns, chainsaws, whatever you can think of that causes maximum pain.”

Donald’s breath wheezed out of him, and that got Drake to finally turn around. The duck was clutching a hand to his chest, looking ashen beneath his feathers. McDuck was reaching out to him but hesitantly, his hands hovering over his nephew’s shoulders without touching. 

“What about the kids?” Donald asked shakily, and Drake accepted a rare pang of guilt. 

He didn’t know Donald, had never cared to know him, but Launchpad always sang his praises as a father. How despite whatever nonsense McDuck dragged them into, Donald’s first priority was always his kids, whether that meant driving to every Junior Woodchuck troop meeting or fighting actual Greek gods to keep them safe. And now two of those kids were gone. Taken, purely through bad luck and worse timing. 

Drake didn’t know how Donald could possibly be holding himself together as well as he was. Knowing Launchpad’s life was at stake because of him had Drake’s leaden stomach turning on itself, his hands trembling around the yoke and terror swimming poisonously through his veins. He could see Launchpad’s bedhead and sleepy smile in his mind’s eye and wanted to scream. Knowing Gos was safe in that damn mansion was the only thing keeping him sane. He couldn’t well imagine how he’d feel if she’d been taken too. Just the thought was enough to pour red-hot rage into his bones, enough for him to tap into the darkness that Negaduck wholly embodied and rip and claw and tear until he got her back.

But here, now, at least he had an idea of what to expect. Donald was going in blind, and the uncertainty must’ve been eating him alive. 

“He won’t do anything to them, or to Launchpad, until we get there,” Drake tried to reassure, not sure if he was all that successful. This was usually more Launchpad’s wheelhouse. “Fortunately, he’s your typical megalomaniacal supervillain in at least one way: he likes an audience.” 

He didn’t mention that Negaduck’s hatred of him was borderline obsessive. Creating this whole convoluted scheme just to lure him out by way of kidnapping Launchpad probably spoke for itself. But Negaduck had gone after Gos before with bombs and a shark on her first night out as Quiverwing, and that was before he learned she was part of his team. And now after that hack, he had to know who she really was. 

Drake’s only guarantee was that Negaduck wouldn’t kill Launchpad or the two missing children (Dewey and Webby, he reminded himself), but he had no idea what state they would be in when he found them. At best, he hadn’t laid a finger on them, but Drake knew Launchpad, knew that beneath the surface of the gentle giant was Double-O-Duck, the spy, the bruiser, with all of his focus and skill. He wouldn’t have taken the kids’ capture lying down, so if anyone was already injured and especially at Negaduck’s mercy, it would have to be Drake’s husband.

Negaduck had no more love for Launchpad than he did for Drake, but this time he hoped to use it to his advantage. Once he knew Darkwing was in the building, he wouldn’t care about anyone else, beelining for his dimensional counterpart with fire and brimstone in his eyes and a chainsaw aimed for Drake’s neck. A brawl would be the perfect distraction while Beakley and the others searched for their kidnapees. 

Then, once Launchpad was safe in his arms, he would be taking a leave of absence from the McDuck family, effective immediately. Drake was taking him and Gos to their cabin out by Launchpad’s parents’ house and barring the door, because Drake had been missing his husband and Gos needed her Papá. For too long, he’d been letting Launchpad burn the candle at both ends, journeying back and forth between home and Duckburg, jungle adventures and night patrol, because he knew how much Launchpad loved both of his families. But Launchpad always had more love to give than there were hours in the day (or night), and Drake had to put his foot down before Launchpad gave all of himself away. 

And not to be petty, but Drake and Gos had first dibs.  

He watched the gray arches of the Audubon Bay Bridge rise into view through the windshield, painted in shades of gold that only deepened the shadows cast by the towers. Relief flooded Drake at the familiar sight. 

“Almost there,” he muttered aloud. The Thunderquack banked to the left, in the direction of the harbor. Launchpad’s last coordinates was leading them toward the spookier part of the docks that tended to have ‘MURDER’ written all over them, where the warehouses were crumbling and seemingly long-abandoned, but nearly all served as a front for some kind of smuggling ring or demon-worshiping cult or devout Quackerware salesmen. Just the place SHUSH would think to settle down in, for reputation’s sake if nothing else. But in the process of building their prison, they would’ve cleared out the surrounding riffraff too. Instead, neither had happened. 

Drake glanced at Beakley. “Do you know anything about why this place was shut down?”

“I believe it was something to do with the foundations of the pre-existing structure,” she explained unhappily. “The prison was decommissioned and left unfinished as further construction put the entire building at risk of collapse.” 

Drake grimaced. “Perfect. I think I’m gonna park on the warehouse next door.”

Just hold on, Launchpad. We’re coming. 

-

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!”

A voice that sounded like it belonged to someone who gargled razor blades dragged Launchpad back to aching consciousness. Even before he opened his eyes, he was struck by the overwhelming pressure in his head, as if someone had put his temples in a vice. His chest felt tight, like his lungs didn’t have room to expand, and his breaths were short and labored. 

When he managed to crack his eyes open, he found himself looking out into darkness. He thought he could see shapes moving amidst the black, formless and indistinct. But a spotlight switched on directly above him with a heavy clang, temporarily blinding him. He winced, jerking his hands up to shield his face, but all he managed was to make his body sway in place. Thick rope bound him from his arms up to his ankles and a latch of some sort on his back held him suspended several feet off the ground, upside down, like a worm on a hook. 

“Look who finally decided to join the land of the living,” Negaduck crooned, his voice preceding him into the circle of light spilling out on the ground around Launchpad’s head. The shadows clung to Negaduck like oil, reluctant to leave his already dingy feathers and unpleasant smile. 

Launchpad glared at him. At this height, they were nearly eye to eye. “Where are the kids?”

This dark reflection of his husband tsked, shaking his head. “Straight to business with you hero types, ain’t it?” 

Negaduck didn’t stop moving, instead pacing around him, slow and quiet, just on the edge of the circle of light. Launchpad tried to hide how he tensed when Negaduck stepped behind him, out of his peripheral vision. It gave Negaduck the perfect opportunity to attack him any way he wanted: a knife to the ribs, a blow to the head, take your pick. Launchpad was bound like a mummy, unable to defend himself unless Negaduck got close enough for a headbutt. 

But Negaduck leaned back into his line of sight without laying a finger on him, his smirk a mean, methodical thing. He knew exactly how rattled Launchpad had been. It was the intent. “No time to sit back and enjoy the moment?” he crooned. 

“I’m not playing, Negaduck,” Launchpad bit out, struggling to keep his cool. “I’m gonna ask one more time. Where. Are. The kids?”

Negaduck snorted, less than intimidated. “Eugh, touchy, touchy,” he said mockingly, and gave Launchpad a hard shove that sent him careening back on the rope he was hanging from. Fortunately, he’d been bound in the center of the room, and didn’t smack his head on any of the walls. This time. 

Launchpad swung forward with just as much momentum, and Negaduck smoothly stepped out of the way. “Fine then, if you’re gonna keep being a killjoy! The brats are fine. Still sittin’ pretty in their comfy cell waiting for rescue from old man McMoneybags.”

So Negaduck wasn’t so far gone as to hurt a member of the McDuck family. The relief that settled over him was short lived, but better than nothing. 

The last thing he remembered was checking Dewey for a concussion, and then nothing. Negaduck must’ve come back for him at some point during that missing time; maybe Launchpad should be tested for a concussion. All the crashing he did had given him a strong stomach and a skull like concrete, but with the blood rushing to his head and pounding behind his eyes, all this spinning wasn’t doing him any favors. 

He closed his eyes as his swaying slowed to a less extreme speed, trying to focus his scattered thoughts. Webby and Dewey were counting on him. They didn’t understand what was happening, what they were up against, because Launchpad never told them who he was, never warned them about the monsters that might follow him. Dewey didn’t even trust him anymore, and Webby couldn’t be far behind…

“What do you want?” Launchpad muttered, opening his eyes in a squint. 

Just in time too, as any trace of levity vanished from Negaduck’s weathered face. He lunged forward with a snarl, grabbing a handful of the ropes binding Launchpad and dragging him close, until Negaduck’s bloodshot eyes bored into his own from inches away.

“What do I want? What do I want? What I’ve always wanted since I set foot in this craphole,” he hissed, razor teeth flashing yellow in the harsh light of the spotlight above them. “I want to see your world burn. Consider it payback for locking me outta mine.”

Time worked funny sometimes when you crossed dimensions. A few hours in their reality amounted to a week in the Negaverse, but it might as well have been a year for all that he and Drake saw, what they were forced to do. Enemies wearing the faces of friends, a desolate world overcome by evil and defended by a dwindling few. The brilliant little light they had no choice but to leave behind. 

Launchpad sneered right back, thrashing uselessly against his restraints. “‘Your world’ is better off without you! Gosalyn is better off without—”

The glint of light reflecting off metal, and Launchpad became aware of the cut on his cheek at the same time he recognized Negaduck’s machete pressed against the tip of his beak. He had to admit, Negaduck had been quick about it. Launchpad hadn’t even seen him draw the blade. 

“Keep her name outta your mouth unless you wanna lose your tongue!” he growled, expression gone cold and still with rage except for his eyes, which contorted and flickered. His own madness, made worse by the dimensional shift? They still weren’t sure. “She’s my daughter. Mine.”

“She was terrified of you,” Launchpad snapped, never one to back down even while staring death in the face. Not when it came to Gosalyn. Any Gosalyn. “And with good reason! You killed Bulba right in front of her—”

“That pathetic, wannabe hero was trying to take her from me!” Negaduck threw his hands in the air, machete and all, thankfully without slicing Launchpad up further. The cut on his cheek had started to weep, a trail of blood moving worryingly close to his eye. “He got what was coming to him,” Negaduck grumbled as he turned around, storming into the darkness that continued to loom around the narrow triangle of light surrounding Launchpad. He lingered there, all but consumed in the shadows, the lurid yellow of his suit a scant outline and only his machete occasionally catching the light. 

Negaduck kept muttering to himself, but in the dark, Launchpad couldn’t be sure where he was, or what he was saying. Only that Negaduck was moving, circling Launchpad again, but more focused on talking to himself than actually intimidating him. 

“All those heroes…ruining my city…”

And for a brief, tiny, inconsequential half-second, Launchpad almost pitied him. 

He blamed the blood rushing to his head. 

This poor facsimile of his husband, a black hole masquerading as a person, who only knew how to take: money, lives, peace. A monster who hurt others for his own pleasure because violence was all he knew. It was as terrifying to experience as it was exhausting. 

Launchpad glared at a random spot in the dark, his head pounding and chest growing tight. If he stayed up here much longer, he was going to pass out. It was only a matter of when.

“What are you expecting to get out of this?” he asked plainly. “You know I can’t just give you the Solego Circuit, right?”

Negaduck came back to himself with a scoff, reentering the circle of light. He’d hidden the machete again at some point. 

“Piece of junk wouldn’t even do me any good. SHUSH and FOWL are sayin’ the same thing—can’t use the damn portal without destroying this trash heap and my world in the process,” he declared, waving his hands theatrically. “So, until I can find a scientist willing to put their back into it, I’m still stuck here. Watching you and that cheap copy play house.”

Launchpad glare met Negaduck’s baleful glower unflinchingly, but internally, a rush of guilt left him breathless as a knee to the gut. He knew he shouldn’t have followed that distress signal. But what else could he have done? Communications were down, and Launchpad had begged Drake time and time again to just call him when he needed him, Darkwing didn’t have to be alone anymore. And Launchpad, terrified of being abandoned again, just couldn’t risk it. 

He just wished that he hadn’t dragged Webby and Dewey into danger too. 

“You made a mistake taking the kids,” Launchpad said, fighting against a wave of dizziness. He tried to keep his tone steady, like Double-O-Duck used to, his gaze piercing and locked on the wet shine of Negaduck’s eyes, cast in the shadow of his hat brim. “Instead of just Darkwing coming after you, you’re getting Scrooge McDuck. This is a guy who fights gods on a regular basis. How do you think you’ll do against someone like that?”

And Negaduck…laughed. 

And not one of his long, rambling cackles that he followed up his evil monologues with. Negaduck snorted with laughter, expression one of mild amusement rather than incandescent rage or insult. 

“Ah, doesn’t really matter,” Negaduck breathed, a chuckle still trailing on his words. He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “This was all more of an experiment.” He stepped forward, until they were eye to eye, and grabbed a handful of the ropes over Launchpad’s heart. He was too dazed to even try headbutting him now, and by the razor smirk that split his beak, Negaduck must’ve known it too. 

“The big, bad Double-O, scourge of SHUSH, turned into a pitiful little sidekick, and now completely at my mercy,” Negaduck murmured, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I could kill you so easily right now. But where’s the fun in that? It’s one and done, until I can jump into a dimension where I haven’t killed you yet and do it all over again. There’s slow and painful, quick but bloody…we could do a round where I only use my knives, the really little ones. You ever heard of death by a thousand cuts? Cuz we can make that happen!”

Launchpad’s skull pounded like a second heartbeat had taken residence in his brain, and the bright bulb above him scattered fractured stars across his vision, bright to the point of pain. Overwhelmed and dazed, he sputtered, “So what was the point of all this? Hacking SHUSH, kidnapping us—”

Negaduck pushed Launchpad, with just the one hand on his chest, walking forward at the same time. They moved out of the circle of light and into the surrounding darkness, Launchpad’s stomach lurched as Negaduck kept moving, until his back nearly touched the far off wall. Negaduck only stopped when the rope keeping Launchpad suspended pulled infinitesimally taut. 

He tilted his head to look at Launchpad then from under the brim of his hat, backlit by the lone, scorching lightbulb behind him. Negaduck didn’t smile as he spoke, all his twisted enthusiasm from earlier snuffed out between one blink and the next. His growl was quiet, a seething hatred beneath every word. 

“I might not kill you right now, but make no mistake, I will kill you. And until that glorious day, I want you to go about every day of your insipid little lives knowing that you’ll never be safe from me.”

Launchpad clung to consciousness with a racing heart and a flagging will, his horror tempered by delirium. 

“You’re insane,” he gasped. 

Negaduck shrugged. “We’ve all got our part to play in this crazy game called life.”

Launchpad’s vision was beginning to tunnel when the deafening blare of alarms startled him back to partial awareness. Outside the door to his cell, the hallway was ablaze with strobing crimson lights. The distant pounding of running feet heralded the organized departure of the Eggheads, converging on the threat. 

“There’s our hero,” Negaduck crowed. “Fashionably late, as usual.”

Before Launchpad could properly brace himself, Negaduck let go of him. Without the support pinning him against the wall, he swung forward in a graceless rush, letting out a yelp as bright spots burst across his sight. 

Even in the midst of his disorientation, Launchpad caught a different flash of light, reflecting off the silver edge of a serrated dagger in Negaduck’s grip.

With a flick, he threw it upwards at the apex of Launchpad’s swing, severing the rope holding him suspended from the ceiling. He had the barest second to brace himself, tuck his head and curve his back so he landed on his shoulders instead of his head. 

It still sent a painful jolt through Launchpad’s body, jarring every bruise and sprain at once, and the immediate drop of pressure on his skull left him lightheaded and woozy as his body set him to rights. 

He rolled onto his side with a groan, forcing his eyes open in a narrow squint, looking up at Negaduck from upside down. 

Making a show of straightening his suit, Negaduck reached inside and pulled out a shotgun. He grinned down at Launchpad with a mouthful of sharpened teeth as he loaded a round. 

“Make yourself comfortable now, sidekick. I’ve gotta go and welcome my new guests.” 

[battybiologist]

Playing the Original Trilogy Ace Attorney games back to back, it really struck me as early as 2-2 how much Franziska is very bad at the whole "Demon Prosecutor" schtick

What made Edgeworth so tough isn't just how he would run logic circles around you, but also because he shut down every line of inquiry that was not directly related to the case and substantiated with hard evidence. His one weakness was that he still followed the due proceedings of court and the Judge's rulings without a fuss. And, you know, that he still had morals

Manfred von Karma is on a whole other level. He's even more ruthless than Edgeworth, but he's also so intimidating that he essentially takes over as judge in the beginning, and his moral compass was surgically removed because it hurt his shoulder.

But Franziska, while she also controls the social dynamics of the court, lets so much shit fly that Edgeworth would not. If he was the prosecutor, he would have needed hard evidence that Pearl was in the Winding Path, and he definitely wouldn't have let him badger Ini about the sports car she drove all those years ago.

Hell, Edgeworth's most common dirty tactic in the first game is concluding a cross-examination before you can squeeze the info out of the witness. And just in 2-2, Franziska lets, and sometimes forces, the cross-examinations to continue, even when said cross-examination reveals she was concealing evidence.

Even Winston Payne, the jobber prosecutor par excellence, is more ruthless than her IIRC, as in he tried to conclude a trial early before Phoenix could finish his reasoning, whereas the Judge literally tried to declare Maya guilty and Franziska objected

You could interpret this behaviour in many ways. In fact, Phoenix even gives us his own: he thinks she's being arrogant, à la "hit me with your best shot". It would track, as she's been pretty arrogant up until now, but I think it's a little shallow.

My own interpretation goes a little deeper into Franziska's character: We know Franziska has been raised by Manfred "my card PIN is 0001 because I'm number 1" von Karma to believe perfection is the ultimate goal. She HATES lying witnesses, but is perfectly fine with "preparing" testimonies. She's the most volatile and youngest prosecutor to date. Lastly, she felt pressure to live up to the von Karma name all her life, but when her father died, she was more concerned with Edgeworth's presumed death than it

My conclusion: Franziska's truest desire pre-character development is to win fair and square, but because she associates her father with victory, she forces herself to emulate him and tries to play dirty. All of her Manfred-like tactics are done outside of court, where she would be able to think it over, letting her conditioning kick in. But in the thick of legal battle, especially facing Phoenix Wright, who thrives on hectic trials, she would let her heart decide what to do.

[pass1onepr1ncess]

DON'T READ THIS BEFORE FINISHING DANGANRONPA TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CHAPTER 2

Below is an analysis of Boy's Life of Despair- particularly how the entire chapter as a whole revolves around gender, queerness, and internalized issues regarding the aforementioned topics!

I know I just posted about this but I started thinking about Ishimaru listening to Pink Pony Club and sobbing bc of his family and reputation. My personal headcanon is that he's definitely gay but never got to unpack that bc he was more focused on being the Ultimate Moral Compass. And then he meets Mondo and starts to realize who he is and that even though their situation sucks that without his family and their status hanging over his head he's free to do some introspection and then just as he's started to find out who he is he loses the one person he's ever gotten that opportunity with and then goes mad with grief and denial not just for Mondo but also for his own identity. He was both grieving his “bro” and the authentic queer man he could've been and it caused him to force himself into the closet in a fit of mental illness and thinking that it's not worth it to find himself if it endangers others. Also Mondo was totally having a very similar if not exact reflection of this with Ishimaru and his internalizes homophobia is what lead to Trial 2 in the first place.

Internalized Homophobia AND toxic masculinity, EPECIALLY on Mondo's side. They both dealt with toxic masculinity but in very different ways. For Ishimaru it was about being a leader and someone the people could follow and have faith in, just like his grandfather was once. A man unbothered by any dilemma who could be a pillar of strength and motivation for any person to lean on, unfeeling and confident and strong. A grandiose statue, if you will.

For Mondo it was about being tough and intimidating, making sure no one would fuck with you and being a more stereotypical Man (at least in Western society). Though these perceptions come from different sources and at different angles, they end in the same result where both of these characters- even subconsciously- feel like they aren't allowed to be themself and instead have to become this molded shape of a man that suits their role in society- whether that be a future Prime Minister who will clear his family name of scandal and debt or a ruthless biker gang leader who doesn't take shit from anybody. Even if they want to, they aren't afforded the right to reflect.

In my mind, while Ishimaru was blissfully unaware of his queerness, Mondo Knew who he was but felt like he couldn't Be that person due to not only being the leader of the Crazy Diamond biker gang, but also because he wanted to be able to fill the shoes of his older brother- especially considering the fact that he feels responsible for Daiya's death.

(Also hi Jojo fans, if you recognize the "Crazy Diamond" biker gang then fun fact! Mondo is a MASSIVE Josuke reference! From his hair, the gang name- even the fact that his and his brother's names spell out "Daiya"-"Mondo!" And it's not the only Jojo reference in the Danganronpa franchise, either!)

Anyway, back on topic. Mondo Knew that he was queer, or at the very LEAST that he wasn't the Man he made himself out to be and that he wanted to be someone different. Someone softer, someone who didn't have to be so tough and intimidate everyone around him for fear of being undermined and not filling the shoes his older brother left for him. So he bottles up his feelings, hides who he really is. He gets angry, not at anyone in particular but angry that he's trapped in this facade of his own making.

So of course, when he finds out about Chihiro (She/They/He in this post btw), he gets even more angry. Chihiro is someone who's been able to experiment and express their identity. She doesn't care what other people think of her and decides to present and express however they feel comfortable- at least in Mondo's eyes. Chihiro has the freedom that Mondo craves so badly, and when she asks Mondo for help to be more Manly- something that Mondo feels like he's a fraud in- of course he gets angry. To Mondo, it seems like Chihiro is throwing this freedom away. This isn't actually the case, of course, but that's how Mondo percieves all of this.

All of this isn't meant to excuse Mondo's actions because I will never excuse or dismiss Literal Murder, but it does provide an explanation. Especially because the way Danganronpa itself handles Chapter 2 is abysmal. I was talking about with a dear friend (Hi, Mattie!) and we were talking about how Chapter 2 as a whole is 100% centered on gender and gender expression but how because it was horribly executed- no pun intended- that it falls so flat despite having the potentional to have a really nice nuanced take on toxic masculinity.

Even Chihiro experienced toxic masculinity! Because they didn't fit the "Big Strong Man" mold at a very young age, they were bullied and harassed for being weak and frail. So, they decided it would be better to be percieved as a girl than to be bullied as an effeminate boy.

Taking this opportunity to talk about MY PERSONAL HEADCANNONS and OPINIONS of Chihiro's gender identity. Which may not align with Your opinion, and it definitely doesn't align with canon- but that is okay! That's why it's a headcanon :). Anyway, personally I do think the Chihiro found comfort in femininity through the years of dressing as a girl. I don't feel like he's fully a trans woman, but I do think he's transfeminine! But in any case, moving along!

Literally every aspect and character involved in the core of Chapter 2's case and trial is centered on how gender affects us- especially how it affects men and AMAB individuals (excluding the whole Byakuya, Toko, and Syo debacle because that is. Another issue entirely and I will likely do an analysis on That as well, especially as someone with DID.)

Unfortunately, Danganronpa as a franchise has some decent ideas and then completely stumbles over itself with 8/10 on them! However, this series is incredibly dear to me and I can't bring myself to hate it. But! It's important to consume media with a critical lense. Don't forgive, excuse, and/or dismiss the faults of your favorites pieces of media just because you like them.

Anyway! A lot of this is headcanon but I also threw in some actual canon in there as well just for funsies skdjhfkjsf

[galraluver]

Royal Greetings my love,

Your fics are a work of art, love it!! May I request something for Kolivan?

I think most galrans believe in love at first sight (like Zarkons brain was drowned in pink glitter when he saw Honerva for the first time) and what if Kolivan had this moment as well with (Female) Blade!Reader when he saw her the fist time without her mask on a mission (aka. the best time to fall in love with someone)?

If you're finding some time to write that scenario/headcanon: Take all the time you need honey, i know it's tough writing requests for others (and yours are so good and nice to read on top of that!)

You're doing great, thank you for everything!

- Fürstin Lya

I'm glad that you like my fics so much 🥰 I only wish that I had more time to write. Of course I can; this is a super cute idea 💖

I appreciate you being so patient with me. Without further ado, here it is 💕

_________________________________________

(Y/n) was just the average Marmoran operative; she was trained by Krolia and Antok made her an official member after her trials because Kolivan had been away at the time, so Kolivan had never seen her face before. She'd been out on missions with Kolivan many times and over time she developed a little crush on her leader, unfortunately as far as she was aware he wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with anyone. The only people who knew about her crush on Kolivan were her close friends and Ulaz; Ulaz had a knack for knowing when someone was in love with someone else, even when they never actually told him. (Y/n) did her best to prove herself to Kolivan by taking only the most dangerous missions when they came up and she was successful with all of them, luckily the worst that happened to her during one mission in particular was that she almost lost her left arm.

Kolivan was aware of who (Y/n) was despite having never seen her face and he was very impressed by her success rate; he would eventually like to personally meet her on a more casual level. When he, Antok and (Y/n) went with Allura to galra central command it was (Y/n) who saved Antok’s life, putting herself in danger so that he wouldn't be killed. It was then that Kolivan made up his mind that he wanted to meet (Y/n) face to face as soon as they had time. After the battle at central command, Antok, (Y/n) and Thace had to stay in three of the castle's healing pods, although since (Y/n) wasn't too badly injured she was only asleep for about a day. Kolivan and Ulaz remained at the castle, waiting for their comrades to finish healing; right before (Y/n) was deemed healed Kolivan was in the lounge with the paladins.

“Wait, so you've never even seen (Y/n's) face? And you like her?” Lance asked Kolivan after he explained how he knew the young galran woman, dumbfounded that the Marmoran leader liked someone despite never actually seeing her face before.

“I never said that I held affection for her.” Kolivan corrected the blue paladin, feeling a little flustered.

“You didn't have to, I can tell when someone really likes someone else. That's why they call me the doctor of love.” Lance responded, bragging about his special gift.

“Lance, no one calls you that.” Keith responded flatly, hoping that Kolivan wouldn't take Lance seriously.

Lance gawked at Keith, immediately getting into an argument with the slightly older boy who always had to ruin his fun. Keith didn't see it as ruining Lance's fun, he just preferred to be realistic. Kolivan couldn't believe that mere children were able to fight in a ten-thousand year war and have some degree of success; Shiro had originally whipped them into shape, but without him around then Kolivan feared that team Voltron would fall apart. In the meantime, (Y/n) had come out of the healing pod she'd been staying in and Ulaz decided to go get Kolivan after he gave her a check-up just to make sure she was alright. Keith and Lance stopped arguing when Ulaz entered the lounge, listening as he told Kolivan that (Y/n) was ready.

“Go get her!” Lance said as he cheered Kolivan on, hoping that the older man would finally meet the woman of his dreams.

“Lance!” The other three paladins chided their friend in sync, each of them feeling a little embarrassed from the way he acted around Kolivan.

Kolivan wasn't expecting Lance to cheer him on when he didn't even have romantic tendencies towards (Y/n), he viewed her as his subordinate and nothing more because they were at war and there was no time for romance. Subconsciously he'd taken a slight interest in her, but consciously he'd convinced himself that he didn't see (Y/n) as a potential romantic partner. On the way to the infirmary Ulaz could tell that his leader was anxious and a little excited, and after talking to (Y/n) he knew she was really excited to finally have a little one-on-one time with Kolivan. When they arrived at their destination Ulaz left so he could give them some privacy, knowing that everything would go well between his friend and his leader. As soon as the door slid open and Kolivan saw (Y/n's) face he was awestruck; he just stood there for a moment, taking in her beauty while she looked at him with confusion, he wasn't expecting one of his most talented operatives to look so beautiful.

“You must be (Y/n).” Kolivan managed to choke out, feeling dizzy and lightheaded as he walked over to her; he felt embarrassed for not being able to speak clearly, it was the first time it happened and he wasn't sure how to handle being in the presence of such a fine young woman.

“That's me. Leader, are you feeling alright?” (Y/n) answered professionally prior to voicing her concern for him; she never thought that she would see the day when Kolivan got flustered, she thought it was really cute.

Before he saw (Y/n) without her mask Kolivan convinced himself that he could never fall in love with her, that changed as soon as he saw her without the hood and the mask of her uniform in the way. All he could do was stand there with his mouth slightly agape, staring at her face; if he was in one of those memes Regris had shown him, then he was sure that there would have been tiny beating hearts all around him. (Y/n) was a patient woman and she knew that Kolivan needed a moment to regain his composure; she didn't necessarily believe she was beautiful, but after breathing in his pheromones she could easily tell that he really liked what he saw.

“I just wanted to tell you that you did well yesterday, not everyone would save their superior in such a dangerous situation.” Kolivan said once his brain started working again, feeling the need to say something.

“I had to, he's one of us. Now that we have some time to recover from the mission, I would like to sit next to you during dinner this evening, if that's alright with you.” (Y/n) responded shyly, hoping to finally get to know her leader better, perhaps on a more personal level if he were to allow it.

“I would like that very much. But if you'll temporarily pardon me, I have something important to go discuss with Ulaz. I look forward to seeing you later.” Kolivan said before he excused himself, briefly smiling at (Y/n) on his way out of the infirmary.

(Y/n) reciprocated the smile and felt giddy; she assumed that he wanted to discuss Antok and Thace's health with Ulaz, although she felt giddy about sitting next to him at dinner. Since she felt better she decided to go to her temporary bedroom so that she could rest and get herself ready; there were a few hours left before dinner, and the young woman decided to wash up before dinnertime. While (Y/n) got herself ready for dinner, Kolivan went to go talk to Ulaz who was a known hopeless romantic, if anyone could give him love advice then it would be Ulaz. Just thinking about (Y/n) made him feel nervous because he'd never truly been in love before, but he wanted to get to know her better and with the possibility of a safer universe he was ready to open himself up to her and give love a chance. Until dinnertime, he and (Y/n) would get themselves ready for what would be the start to the rest of their lives together.

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Who has been screwed over by the fandom more?

Propaganda below the cut

Six:

Six was born into a world that is desperate to kill her and every other child, and she has spent her every second in survival mode. If she makes the wrong choice or hesitates for even a second, there's a good chance she'll be killed. She has to make terrible choices, she has to hurt people, or she will be hurt, even if that means betraying her friends or literally eating a guy to not starve. To the fandom though, she's an irredeemable monster! Not the countless people hunting her down at every second, she's clearly the worst person in existence. She hurt a character the fans like (she could've died if she didn't) so she should suffer apparently

Amane Momose:

Where do I even start? So first of all she’s an cult child who was physically and mentally abused and tortured by her parents and then (presumably) murdered her mother after her mother killed a cat that she took care of.

Now everyone in Milgram is a murderer but when Amane came and her MV showed her murder and circumstance in an admittedly highly fictionalized depiction of it the audience decided to…repeat the cycle of abuse!

She was voted guilty for the main reason of “teaching her” and helping her “realize that she was abused.” I would like to note that this tough love approach is something her parents utilized against her. “We are only doing this to help you.”

So the audience replicates Amane’s abusers and repeats the cycle of abuse and that’s pretty shitty but it isn’t exactly “Fuck Em Kids” level.

And then Trial 2 happened. Cause Amane is bitter and angry and horrifically traumatized so she acts aggressive and hostile. Especially towards another prisoner.

Now, again, everyone here is a fucking murderer (of atleast could be constructed as one) These people being able to Harm is a core concept of this series.

Yet for some reason it feels like people treat Amane as a “delusional creepy kid who wants to kill people” which completly takes away the nuance of her character. She does have the capacity to harm! Everyone here does! She’s not Uniquly Dangerous! She just has a Reason to be Dangerous. A Reason we GAVE HER by REPEATING THE CYCLE OF ABUSE.

In short: In a series full of Murderers I’m honestly a bit pissed that the 12 year old abuse victim is the one who’s treated like the guy from American Pyscho.

----

TL;DR: "We metavoted this abused, indoctrinated child guilty in trial 1, but it didn't work. Now she is a threat to three grown adults: one who is fully free and two whom she has been shown to get along with. Please metavote her guilty again so she will be restrained and unable to attack them, even though that means subjecting her to further psychological torture." Amane Momose is the youngest of ten murderers, prisoners of Milgram who are to be judged innocent (forgiven) or guilty (unforgiven). In the first interrogation (voice drama), she said that what she did was in line with her religion's doctrines. If we judged her the "wrong way", she said she will just deny the verdict. Combining the voice drama and music video, you could piece together that she was raised in a cult and abused, even though she is cheerful and downplays her pain. She never shows *who* she killed, only *why* she did. After the first day of her vote, she was 81% innocent, but this wouldn't last the whole three months. Many people voted her guilty so she would "see her sins", part of the practice commonly known as "metavoting". Her innocent percentage rapidly decreased, and she hit guilty in the last 15 days, finishing at 51% guilty. At the end of the first trial, Jackalope (who is something like a host) went over all the prisoners' verdicts and commented on the general reasoning. When he got to Amane, he *laughed* at the audience for voting that way to make her realize her sins. Trial 2 rolled around, and it was revealed that Amane's victim was her abuser. On day one, she was at 74% innocent. Seems like a cut-and-dry case now, right? Well... in the intermission, two of the prisoners (Fuuta and Mahiru) were badly beaten up and became reliant on the care of Shidou, a doctor. Amane became hostile to Shidou because what he was doing was against her beliefs. She visited all three of them on their birthdays to convince them to change their ways. She seems to be especially close to Fuuta, who is now murmuring about salvation. Guilty prisoners are psychologically tortured, forced to listen to voices that reject their beliefs. Fuuta and Mahiru both say that the mental strain is worse than their physical injuries. But Amane, who also looks worse for wear, was thrown under the bus because she isn't injured and is considered a physical threat to them (never mind that she gets along with them). She's considered a threat to Shidou, a grown man who is twice her size and fully free, while she is partially restricted by the long sleeves in her trial 2 uniform. She might indoctrinate Fuuta even though, in a prison of ten people and one guard, she's the only voice of her cult. Fortunately, she got a break. Her vote was falling at a similar rate to the first trial. But this time, it stabilized at 51% innocent, 12 days before the end of her vote. But there's no way this is over.

[faecaptainofdreams]

---TRIGGER WARNING---

Animal death, brief violence against an animal

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"Fifteen was a tough age for me.

That was my angriest year, but also really important in terms of learnin'.

I unlocked a painful repressed memory, learned through trial and error that violence wasn't for me, but also, that neither was eatin' meat.

Growin' up, I was never a hunter; just a gatherin' type.

The only time I ate meat was if someone handed it to me or I could afford to buy it.

And truth be told I don't regret that, seein' as how I was always starvin'.

Those tidbits of protein no doubt pulled me through some serious drought!

But when I was fifteen, I remember walkin' a street somewhere and I saw this guy handing out samples of these little fish treats he'd made.

So I ate one, and bein' stuck up like I used to be, I asked him why he only ever handed out fish or seemed to cook fish.

No joke, he was out almost every day!

An' he told me that he only ever passed out fish, 'cos that was all he ate, meat-wise!

I was like...why?

An' he said it was because he had a policy; only eat what you could stand to kill.

Somehow, that resonated with me.

I'd never thought before about how I got the meat -- I just ate it, and appreciated it.

But it seemed, maybe I hadn't appreciated it enough.

Bein' on my own, I figured I needed to either put up or shut up, so I went out and...well...

A few nights later I was in some woods somewhere else, and decided to catch me a fish for the first time.

Because I thought about other animals, but anything more than a fish just made me feel sick.

I chiseled me a little stone carving tool, scraped a stick into a little wooden spear and waited by a river one evening.

Had mah fire ready and everything.

I remember my little heart was just poundin', I really didn't wanna do it but I had to know if I could.

I promised myself that no matter what, whether I could handle it or not, I would eat whatever poor animal I caught.

I was probably at that stream for half an hour or more, strikin' at fish and missin' em.

Until finally...

I got one.

A BIG one.

Had a rock with me because I figured it wouldn't just die instantly, and I was right.

My adrenaline was pumpin', heart was pounding, the fish was really strong so I had to really fight to pull it outta the water.

I hooked my fingers into its gills so I could drag it out faster, and once I had it on the ground I took the rock I'd brought with me and just started beatin' the devil out of it, square in the eye.

I did everything I could to kill it as quickly as possible, and from start to finish the whole ordeal couldn't've taken more than thirty seconds.

But it was enough...

Once I was sure it was dead I just sat there, looked at it, and what I'd done suddenly washed over me...

And I cried.

Just like fightin' folks with my fists to solve issues, I learned that huntin' wasn't for me, either.

I just sat there bawlin' my poor eyes out, and felt like the scum'a the universe.

It was dreadful.

Now worst of all, I had to eat the darn thing!

And I didn't know how to prepare meat or what to do -- it hadn't occurred to me beforehand that I'd have to gut it or anything like that.

So, still cryin', I dragged it over to my little campfire and struggled to try and cook it.

No, I did not open it up.

No guts, no nothin', just cooked it as was.

Then dragged it back over so I could sit and eat.

And I just...bit into it...spit out scales, tried to just...eat it.

God help me, I really, really tried to eat that fish, but I just couldn't stomach it.

When I bit in and hit bone or tendon or SOMETHIN' i gagged straight away, and realized I couldn't do it.

So I got up again and dragged it far out into the woods, and just left it there.

At the very least, I knew nature wouldn't waste it.

I felt like such a fool, and a terrible person.

Didn't sleep well that night, i can tell ya that much.

A few days later, I found a fish trapped in a shrinkin', drying-out pond and quickly ran it over to a stream and let it go.

That helped me feel like I had made up for the horrible thing I'd done.

Now don't get me mistaken, I'm not sayin' this is how everyone should operate.

All groups of people have different tasks for different folks.

Some are hunters, some are gatherers, some are laborers, etc.

It's okay to enjoy meat when you yourself are not capable of huntin', killin' and preparing it.

Just make sure you appreciate it, understand how it gets on your plate, say thanks to Someone out there for lettin' ya have it.

Thank the animal, too.

Meat is part of most people's DNA, most of us are omnivores.

But for me as an individual, that "eat what you can kill" motto has stuck ever since, and I just can't do it.

That was the last time I willingly ate meat, and after that I got more serious about how I found food in the wild and how to be more resourceful.

Oh as for the fish, I made peace with that a long time ago, don't you worry!

I was just tryin'a survive.

Regardless of how it went down and my inability to eat it, I thanked the fish anyhow."

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Someone on Tumblr posed the question of how they figured Wander came to be a vegetarian.

Thought i'd take a crack at it with my own story ;)