#i have to have a script before i talk and if they deviate from what I expect I just start saying things that don't make sense

[hafwen]

When I try to search for a dentist that knows how to deal with disabled people all I've been able to find is pediatric dentistry

I still have teeth and am disabled as an adult! Where are the practices for me???

[lgbtlunaverse]

Fandom is so nice to Jiang Cheng's inferiority complex because in reality every single thing he gets accused of is something Wei Wuxian is better at than him.

Jiang Cheng killed Wei Wuxian? Nope. Didn't even get close. Wei Wuxian's own spirits tore him apart before jc could even get there. wwx:1 jc:0

Jiang Cheng tortures people? We get two and a half rumours and a mention from jin ling that jc has 'captured' demonic cultivators before, but who is also apparently confident that just letting wwx run off will kill the issue even though those earlier rumours said ~no one who sandu shengshou captured was ever seen again~

The word jiang cheng uses when he tries to talk big game about 'beating the truth' out of Wei Wuxian's is a word that carries the context of pestering someone to do their homework. Doesn't exactly strike fear into my heart.

Wei Wuxian? Excellent at torture. A prodigy. Did you fucking see what he did to Wen Chao? Dude didn't have fingers anymore because wei wuxian made him eat them. He ripped out his hair, burned his skin off, and then stalked him for several days just to prolong the pain. He forced Wang Lingjiao to bite Wen Chao's dick off and then made her shove a stool leg down her own throat! 10/10, no notes. Absolutely horrifying.

Meanwhile Jiang Cheng's idea of torture is getting a dog to bark at Wei Wuxian for a few seconds. Weak, unoriginal, I bet fairy was literally wagging her tail the whole time. 2-0

Jiang Cheng made the entire cultivation world believe Wei Wuxian was up to no good on the burial mounds and ultimately orchestrated his downfall? lol. lmao, even

It's a big thing in certain corners of the fandom to really zoom in one one particular phrase at the end of chapter 73, where after wwx and jc have their staged duel to make the world believe they hate each other jiang cheng tells everyone wwx has defected and become "a public enemy'' or "an enemy to the cultivation world" or whatever the translation you're familiar with decided upon.

(As an aside, something I really like about this line is that the last half of it is almost exactly the same, like verbatim, as what wwx told him to say. like, the chapter is really hammering home just how much jc is speaking from a script here. wwx tells jc to say "今后魏无羡无论做出什么事，都与云梦江氏无关." and jc says "今后无论此人有何动作，一概与云梦江氏无关" the only meaningful difference is that he says 'this person' instead of wwx's name)

I've seen it said that this bit, the use of 'enemy' was said without wei wuxian's approval, that jc deviated from the script just to hurt his ex-shixiong for leaving him. And that this is what caused all the other clans to turn against wei wuxian. Regardless of if this is what jc and wwx discussed, or if jc had malicious motivations for it (considering my conclusions above, you can guess where i fall) it doesn't really matter, because the novel tells us when the clans completely freak out and become convinced wei wuxian is out to get them (though of course they've been wringing their hands about it since the literal day wwx ran off with the wen, months before jiang cheng visited) very neatly in chapter 75!

It's when they find out about Wen Ning.

And how do they find out about Wen Ning?

Because Wei Wuxian took him on nighthunts! And they kicked ass!

...Wei Wuxian, my man, why are you on nighthunts??? Why are you showing off your incredibly cool sentient fierce corpse buddy, who is way better and stronger than all the other fierce corpses, in front of the whole cultivation world??

Whatever his motivations (extra money, maybe?? they were strapped for crash) I can only draw the conclusion wwx had already given up on appearing calm or non-threatening and didn't care if the clans thought he was a threat, because they'd believe whatever they wanted anyway. Which he seems to clearly be aware of the whole time.

Regardless, we know that this is what created the myth of the Yiling patriarch. It's literally when the title first shows up!

Even if you really believe jc was secretly plotting against wwx in chapter 73, he's clearly doing a shit job of it because nothing he said made anywhere near as big an impact as this. Flopped!

The other point people use to argue Jiang Cheng caused wei wuxian's downfall is Jin Guangyao's speech in Guanyin temple about how jiang cheng could have saved wei wuxian if only he stood by him. Setting aside that jin guangyao is trying to get into jiang cheng's head here, and isn't necessarily saying what he really believes (though it very well might be! who knows with a character like jgy. assuming he's always lying is just as misleading as assuming he's always saying the truth) the fact is, if you read the speech closely, what he's talking about is not the 'public enemy' line, he's talking about the bond between them. The fact that people wanted wei wuxian out of yunmeng jiang, because the two were too powerful together.

He's talking about that one time Jiang Cheng very publically kicked wei wuxian out of the sect!

Which, unbeknownst to Jin Guangyao, was in fact Wei Wuxian's idea the whole time.

final score: 3 for you wei wuxian, you go wei wuxian! And nothing for Jiang Cheng bye.

[tcfactory]

Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:

I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!

The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.

He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.

Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.

And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.

So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.

Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.

He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.

Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.

[auncyen]

(this is slightly morbid but nothing bad actually happens. If that makes sense.)

-

"Oh, cruel whimsy," Siffrin whispers right of Odile.

"Oh, cruel whimsy!" Siffrin wails from below as he lies, sprawled dramatically, dying.

Odile's seat vibrates because of how excited Siffrin is next to her. "Now leave me, light--" they continue.

"--let all shade come upon me--"

"--and with this last Change--"

"--I end this sordid tale, and pray my next be humorous enough to remedy."

The Siffrin on stage finally dies several minutes after he should have passed out from blood loss. The curtain falls. The Siffrin next to Odile claps wildly, shouting along with the crowd. "Bravo! Bravo!!!"

Mirabelle, on Odile's left, is still crying from the play's tragedy, but has recovered enough to comment, "that's another liberty they took. We don't all believe in reincarnation. It's mostly the Houses in Brisseau."

"And that's fine?" Odile asks, raising her voice just enough to cut through the applause around them.

Mirabelle shrugs, dabbing at her eyes. "The Change religion doesn't focus too much on what happens after death anyway, so it's not really that big a deal, I guess?"

"I don't think the Poterians are worried about accuracy anyway," Odile says, casting an eye around them before focusing on Siffrin--their Siffrin, not the actor who is back on their feet now that the curtain has risen again and taking a bow.

She cannot believe this is the first play Siffrin wanted to see. They'd loved plays, yes, but then those two strange days in Dormont happened, and the first time Isabeau suggested watching a play as a way to take their minds off things for a bit, Siffrin had gotten the strangest look on his face before saying he wasn't really in the mood and maybe they could just look around the market instead. They'd left the topic there for the day, but slowly, with a joint effort, they'd gotten Siffrin to talk about how he'd come to think of life as a play during the loops. They were supposed to say these things to Isabeau, or Odile, or Mirabelle or Boniface, and then the others would always say the same lines, and sometimes deviating from the script was good and created a better script and sometimes it resulted in something so awful that they immediately messed up the next loop and then spent the next six strictly following the better script and making everyone smile, over and over again, so that that "bad loops" wouldn't count anymore. Which was completely illogical, but Odile had to assume whatever had happened--Siffrin had yet to talk about whatever that was--had been traumatizing enough to make Siffrin cling to the safety of repetition even as it was driving them insane.

Needless to say, plays had been taboo for some time. Mirabelle hadn't even been sure at first if she could talk about her books, if any fiction might make Siffrin uneasy, but Siffrin had taken her not reading books by them as her not having any and had dragged Odile on a Secret Quest to procure some, so books were clearly safe.

The taboo on plays was broken today, when Boniface noticed Siffrin's name on a flier and immediately called it out, making everyone notice it. It hadn't taken very long for awkwardness to settle in as they all read further and realized "Siffrin" was the titular character of a play, but before Isabeau or Mirabelle could find a distraction, Siffrin had lit up. "...My name! I named myself after the hero! I love this--that is--" His cheeks shaded with fluster as he realized just how enthusiastic he'd gotten. "...can we go see it?"

It had been a unanimous yes, of course. If Siffrin was rediscovering an interest the loops had taken from them, good. Of course they'd watch it, both to make sure Siffrin enjoyed themself and because they were all a little curious what Siffrin had seen in this play to name himself after it.

Well.

Well.

"...Wait, where's Bonnie and Nille?" Siffrin was asking. With the play over, he was finally regaining awareness of his surroundings and noticing the other seats in the aisle, already empty. "Isa?"

"...Boniface went out with Petronille because they were uncomfortable with how dark it was getting--we all warned them it was a tragedy, please don't feel guilty, Siffrin," Odile says when Siffrin's face falls. "They knew they might be uncomfortable, they still wanted to try, and they left with their sister when they realized they might get upset. I'm sure Boniface is fine."

"Okay...Isa...?"

Odile is certain Isabeau walked out because he'd overthought the connection between Siffrin naming himself after a character who was from the start of the play almost certain to die at the end of it. She's certain, because she's overthinking it herself. "I'm not sure," she says instead, because he didn't actually tell her that and she'd rather not put words in anyone's mouth with a topic this delicate. "So why did you name yourself after the hero?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Siffrin asks.

She doesn't like the answer that seems obvious. "I'd like to hear your own thought process, though."

Siffrin bounces on their feet. "That monologue in act four--and his banter with Gaston! I can't believe I remember so much of it!"

It is impressive how good their memory is with plays, and Odile wonders if it's because plays, while inspired by the real world, very much take place in their own little worlds, far from memory-erasing islands.

"And, well..." Siffrin sobers. "He loses everything in the play. And I--I guess--I don't really remember if I tried telling people or not, about my past, but I don't think I felt like anyone would have believed me...so...it's not the same, he still remembers, but he felt that sad and everyone feels bad for him, so... it felt like a relief that way?" He shrugs, awkwardly.

"Oh," Mirabelle says, clapping her hands together as she stands up. "Now I get why you like these plays! It's the catharsis!"

Siffrin brightens with a smile at Mirabelle. "That's it! The catharsis."

"I see," Odile says, hoping the relief isn't too obvious in her voice. Yes, she and Isabeau definitely overthought this.

[chez-cinnamon]

If it was homes doing, what did it do to make them end up in the real world ? (Im definitely not knees deep into your blog because I love this entire idea, totally not)

I was waiting to get round to making a master post/get round to writing the fic but it’s taking a while so I’m gonna spill some beans here, with some doodles too-

- It’s unclear (atm in universe) what caused Home to be the way it is, or to explain exactly what it is, but Home serves as a force to keep the puppets on script at all times, and if they deviate from it, punishments ensue

- The puppets in this AU are from a VHS tape containing a special animated episode to celebrate the company’s success; the episode involves the puppets preparing for a special market day (loosely based on May Day) called Spring Market Day, but a cheeky magpie is causing ruckus. However, they’ve been unknowingly trapped in this tape, being forced to repeat the same day every day and having their memories erased to repeat it without fuss.

- Wally was the first to become aware that they were stuck in a loop and after noticing Home’s suspicious staring at each neighbour, a big black rectangle following him and his friends as they talk to it, and the fact that his friends are oblivious to what’s happening, he finds a way to prevent their memories being erased and thus begins Home’s punishments…

- To punish the puppets for going off script, it will subject them to their greatest fears/anything scary, and will find ways to either get them to sleep or keep them awake enough to drive them insane.

- For example, Sally’s segment in the episode involves her telling the history of Spring Market Day/May Day, but if she gets a detail wrong, Home will subject her to her biggest fear: humiliation on stage, with all spotlights on her, shining brighter and brighter until she cries.. Another example is Howdy, who if getting his stock wrong, Home will have the stock in his shop multiply over and over again, until it almost drowns him in it before having it magically disappear..

- As a consequence of this, it really deprives all the neighbours of sleep, making them mindless and paranoid as the days go on

- It also prevents them from telling each other what’s going on, by forcing their mouths shut

- The only way to stop this is to leave the neighbourhood, but once they do, Home isn’t happy…

[pumpkinmetaphor]

Ouran, Performance, Audience

Okay I said I was going to write this and I can't look at it anymore so posting. Anyway, performance in Ouran is interesting and we’ve all been chatting about it lately. Each character puts on an “act” for the guests, each character puts on another “act” for the people around them. It’s a testament to how well the characters are written that we can unravel these performances throughout the text. I still think there’s several levels of reading the characters and the text as well. 

Ouran is satire- hence why they’re essentially parodying these archetypes. But Ouran is also self-aware, self-referential, and meta. Characters break the fourth wall. They’re, at varying levels, aware of being in a story. We have characters who obviously break the fourth wall (Kyoya looking right into the camera in episode 1, for example. I would say Tamaki’s “homosexual supporting cast” speech, except it’s kind of an anomaly for him) and characters who are resistant to any sort of self-reflection that might lead them to any sort of conclusions like this (Hikaru.) I will at one point go through the entire manga again and count how many times each character narrates– which, to my recollection, is uncommon outside of Haruhi (MC obvs, and framed as talking to her mother) and Kaoru (framed as talking to himself/ the audience/ Hikaru-that-lives-in-his-brain) but I could be misremembering.

This is generally played for comedic effect. Tamaki breaks the fourth wall when it’s funny. Kyoya plays dumb about plot conventions (such as “we have birthdays here?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”) when it’s funny for him to do so. 

Anyway that’s just my setup. I want to discuss the Paris Arc, specifically whatever is going on with Kaoru. 

Read More because this is 2k words.

Kaoru is an interesting character because I think the performance is a little more pronounced. There’s reason to interpret he generally controls the scripts, his host club act is a bigger deviation from his natural personality, and fundamentally, as a person, Kaoru is less solid in his sense of identity. 

Which does kind of beg a question. The version of Kaoru the host club girls get is clearly fake. But the Kaoru most people get is some form of a mask. Kaoru reflects Hikaru– which is what Hikaru needs until Kaoru fears he doesn’t. Kaoru seems to take Haruhi’s assertion that he’s the “less evil one” to heart. I think neither Hikaru or Kaoru know what Haruhi is going to say is the difference between them in Episode/Chapter 5 because they themselves don’t know– aside from this very philosophical “well the one who is you is the one who is not me and the one who is not you is me etc.”

Anyway, we all kind of understand the general baseline– Hikaru is going to grow up, fall in love, and spread his wings– Kaoru is afraid this means Hikaru will leave him behind. This is the plot. 

But I think a lot of this comes down to “the thing they won’t be able to share,” which is presented to us in the form of that cookie. Haruhi notes that Kaoru will just give whatever it is to Hikaru. Hikaru ultimately snaps the cookie in half and forces Kaoru to take half of it anyway. This kind of embodies the fundamental difference between them, in my book. 

(Ch. 45, various spliced together pages) Hikaru: It is literally not on Hikaru’s radar that there might ever be anything that he and Kaoru do not share. He does not conceive this on any level before the Paris Arc. Kaoru will literally always be here, he is a constant that Hikaru cannot conceive losing. Hikaru’s not afraid of Kaoru abandoning him– he may be, afraid something will happen to Kaoru that will take him away, but he’s not afraid of Kaoru choosing to leave. Why would he? Kaoru is the one person who cannot betray him. 

Kaoru: It is a given that Hikaru will one day leave. It is simply the only way. Hikaru will grow up and, for various reasons, Kaoru will not grow with him. And Hikaru will choose to leave– this will not be a betrayal, it’s just how life works when you’re not the main character in your story. Your carriage turns back into a grubby ole pumpkin and you’re left all alone. 

After the cookie scene, Kaoru tells Hani that he has feelings for Haruhi. This is, in my opinion, when Kaoru takes the reins of the narrative. Of the carriage, so to speak. The carriage in the anime exists on the condition that no one acknowledges that they’re in a love story and “breaks” the found family. Kaoru saying he’s in love with Haruhi steers the narrative on the course to the inevitable. 

Which is great!

Except is Kaoru in love with Haruhi? 

My hypothesis: it literally doesn’t matter. Kaoru’s feelings for Haruhi do not drive the narrative. Kaoru talking about it does. He could be lying. He could be mistaken. He could be genuinely in love with her. It could be an idle crush. It doesn’t matter. It’s the performance of this love for the appropriate audience (aka: Hani, Hikaru etc.) that matters.

I think the base reading of this arc is that the cookie is Haruhi. Haruhi is the one thing they can’t share, right? They can’t like, keep eating biscuits out of her mouth and licking her face if Hikaru wants her to be his girlfriend and Kaoru wants her too. While I don’t think it’s incorrect to read this as a concern Kaoru has, I don’t think it gets to the heart of the issue. 

So, performance!

Kaoru puts on his little act for Hikaru throughout the Paris Arc. Generally tormenting him, ostracising him. In a way giving him a taste of what Kaoru goes through in a zillion Hika/Haru fanfictions or Kaoru’s own nightmares. This culminates in the date, where Kaoru basically brings Haruhi on the date he asked her on first (before giving it to Hikaru) and hitting every single mark that Hikaru missed. Not that anyone is enjoying themselves regardless to be honest. 

And of course, at the end, he kisses her and Hikaru sees and runs off upset. 

Except we, the audience, know Kaoru kisses Haruhi on the cheek. It’s a clear enough stage kiss from the art. Just close enough for us to understand that, from Hikaru’s perspective, Kaoru kissed her on the mouth. We’re bystanders, watching this plot unfold. Hikaru is Kaoru’s intended audience– that’s who he’s performing for. 

So what’s the difference then between this scene.

And this scene?

Well, first: what else can be the one thing Hikaru and Kaoru can’t share? If you go one level further, I think you come to the conclusion that Hikaru is the one thing they can’t share. After all, Hikaru cannot keep giving half of himself, half of his time, energy, love, self etc. to Kaoru all the time, and grow up. They suffer a classic case of enmeshment. Kaoru determines that Hikaru needs to be shoved out of the nest– and that the only way to do that is to stab him in the back. 

I don’t think Kaoru is trying to make Hikaru hate him. I do think what he’s trying to do is make Hikaru realise that he’s a person? Who is capable of betraying him, just like any other person. As long as Hikaru believes that Kaoru is “the only person he can trust,” he’s never going to grow up. By knocking himself off that pedestal in Hikaru’s eyes, Hikaru is forced to see him differently and Kaoru is prepared to accept however Hikaru might feel about him in the aftermath (though assuming he’ll drastically distance himself). 

(Side note. I think Hikaru and Kaoru internalise their maid-related-trauma slightly differently. While Kaoru’s fear is abandonment, Hikaru’s fear is betrayal. They just manifest similarly because there’s a lot of crossover. This is sooo long already, I’m not getting into it unless someone asks lmao.)

Loop back to the image again then. What’s the difference here? Well, it’s still a stage kiss! They both are. But, with one fundamental difference. 

Image one, Hikaru is Kaoru’s audience. He is performing to trick Hikaru (and possibly anyone else, like Hani and Mori, watching). But reality is clear to us, the reader.

Image two, you are Kaoru’s audience. He is performing to trick you. (but reality is clear to Hikaru, the participant)

Like, that’s pretty in your face huh? Faces obscured in a way that you don’t infer it as a cheek kiss as easily as you do with Kaoru and Haruhi. It’s also on the left page of the physical edition, meaning you have to skip to the next page to see the aftermath:

Kaoru’s not just tricking the audience. He’s queerbaiting the audience. Typical.

Firstly, I do think one can be led to the conclusion that if the one thing they can’t share is Hikaru, not Haruhi, that means Kaoru is not in love with Haruhi but is in love with Hikaru. In fact, I think that’s kind of the point with these panels. It’s framed as a bait-switch, which only works if the audience misinterprets the kiss. My ultimate conclusion therefore is that there is no textual romantic incest occuring. It is enmeshment at a bare minimum though. But that's another topic, another day, for somebody else.

Secondly, I think this is because the audience is, regardless, on the wrong track. Or at least not the full track. We have access to the narrative when other characters don’t, but we’re still reading the story Kaoru is telling. We’re still the audience to his performance of the story. It’s easier for Kaoru to tell a story that’s all about his brother– he’s been doing it his whole life. He’s not the main character, after all. So he’s telling us a story where the one thing they cannot share is Hikaru, telling all the other characters a story where the one thing they can’t share is Haruhi. 

So the one thing they can’t share is something more nebulous. It’s the identity. 

Which feels like a contradiction in a way, because the identity is Hikaru, isn't it?

They can’t be one double act, split down the middle. They can’t be one seed sprouting two leaves. They can’t be two halves of one cookie, or two halves of one soul. And the problem is, Kaoru views everything as something Hikaru has split down the middle and shared with him– and now he has to give it all back. 

I don’t really think Hikaru views “their room” as being “his room, that I share with Kaoru.” But I think Kaoru does. I think Kaoru views everything as something Hikaru has shared with him, right down to his own personality, his own face. Hikaru cannot leave, cannot grow up, unless Kaoru stops pretending to be him and gives him the half of his identity back to make one whole, true Hikaru. 

Only problem is, Kaoru has to cut that tricky spare leaf off. After all, when he gives Hikaru back the identity, Kaoru won’t have one. Kaoru is defined as being “the one who is not Hikaru.” My brother is Hikaru. The one who is not my brother is me. And how do you define that? When your brother is no longer there, who are you? 

That’s why it’s important that Hikaru dyes his hair. Because I don’t think him dyeing his hair matters if the issue is Haruhi (Haruhi can tell them apart anyway). I don’t think it matters if the issue is Hikaru (this would not, in isolation, fix Kaoru's thought process). 

It is however enough for Hikaru to be able to illustrate to Kaoru that their identity is inherently interwoven, not necessarily shared. It doesn’t matter if Kaoru is the same as Hikaru or not– because Kaoru is who he is. That may have been affected by the fact that they’re twins, but his identity is not negated by it. Kaoru's identity is not inherently a performance just because it reflects Hikaru, and he doesn't lose it when he ceases to reflect Hikaru.

(breathes)

CAVEAT AS ALWAYS: I am reading the English translation. While it is the official Viz Media translation, something is always changed in translation, localisation, and interpretation. With the assumption that everyone here is reading the manga in English (sweeping assumption, sorry) this is therefore a reading of the text inherently coloured by the site of circulation (English translation, volume compiled) and the site of audiencing: aka the fact that I am an English-speaking, European, media studies/animation academic, speaking on an largely American blogging platform to the like, twelve Kaoru stans that follow me. It also means your interpretation may be very different to mine! Anyway If you read this far, congrats! You deserve a cookie– whatever that might or might not signify.

[luckycheesefoodie321]

Look idk what the new Narnia tv show will bring, and I can absolutely see it improving upon the second and third films… but the first movie was truly something special.

The vision of the director, the wonderful young core cast, the score, the visual and practical effects, the truly elegant cgi, all really bringing the original story to life in the most beautiful way.

I was just as captivated by the film after not having watched it in some 10-15 years, as I was the first time I watched it.

The war scene???? THE WAR SCENE. THE MUSIC. THE BUILD UP. THE TENSION. I CANT.

The way it allows for the quiet moments to enriched the big moments. Peter and Aslan talking for the first time? Peter looking to Oreius “are you with me?” “To the death”???

Even Prince Caspian was such an engaging film, even if it did deviate from the book, bc the cast was so good and the story followed on so well from the first. The understanding of the script writer’s that the characters were now adults flung back into young bodies and their skill level, their mannerisms, their confidence and countenance would all be drastically changed from the first film, and the cast do a wonderful job of projecting that. And obv Ben Barnes was a fantastic addition.

It’s the way that Susan and Edmund had very minimal roles in the first film’s war and leaned heavily on Peter to lead the charge. By the same token, Peter took most of the responsibility upon himself. Susan used one arrow to kill in the first film. Whereas Peter’s first kill was kind of incidental. Edmund used his strategic abilities for the first time in going for the Witch’s ice sceptre.

Cut to Prince Caspian.

Edmund is absolutely and clearly the strategist between the two. He’s the negotiator. The master manipulator. The diplomat. And proves to everyone involved he is a more than capable swordsman - we don’t need to see Peter fight before he needs to. We need everyone to mentally catch up to where Edmund is in his skills. Then Peter leads as he always does at the front of the action. He duels Miraz. He proves his mettle once more.

Then Susan, while initially paired up once more with Lucy, goes with them in the initial raid on Miraz’s castle to fight, demonstrating her expert archery and combat skills. She solos about 7 or 8 mounted soldiers from the ground with her bow. She leads the archers before entering the battlefield herself.

It’s the DEVELOPMENT.

And while Lucy is not involved in the fighting, it’s the way she speaks against the stubbornness of her elder siblings so openly. Who holds firm to her beliefs even when everyone else doesn’t. She doesn’t run away and cry anymore. This is a Lucy who knows how to counsel her fellow kings and Queen.

Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the third film, is where it falls apart story wise, in direction, and in vision - it forgets where the characters were previously. Like I hate when Caspian and Edmund are duelling on the Dawn Treader, and they end in a draw and Caspian says the line “you’ve improved, my friend” “I suppose I have” because BRO. Edmund is a skilled swordsman and several hundred years Caspian’s senior. While he may be in a younger body that doesn’t show the experience, and he doesn’t have opportunities to practice it, he has several wars and combat engagements under his belt and only a year since his previous visit to Narnia. That doesn’t go away. A better line would’ve been “the rust is starting to shed, my friend” “I’m finally warmed up” would’ve been a far less condescending line, even if sweet baby boi Caspian would never mean it that way.

so I definitely would look forward to how the show might improve upon it IF it gets that far.

[romance-of-three-memes]

Everyone nowadays talk about Fire Emblem Three Houses like it's the defining entry of the series and a lot of people act like it's the best thing that's ever happen to it but honestly? If you're trying to get into Fire Emblem as a series it's one of the worst places to start. It deviates a lot from the gameplay of other entries and that's fine, even if I'm kind of sick of the super specialized school taking over video games after it got super popular in anime last decade.

I mean, I love Three Houses (yes, it does take a lot of inspiration from Romance of the Three Kingdoms and yes, the faction that's the most like Wu is my favorite, but I swear that's coincidence because I wasn't even thinking about that when I first played it). But it's a terrible place to start, especially since I've seen a lot of people only play Three Houses and show no interest in playing anything else in the series, which yes, is also fine, I hate weird video game elitists and the Fire Emblem fandom can be one of the worst I've ever seen in that regard, what I mean is that a lot of new fans seem to go 'neat that was fun, I'm satisfied :)' instead of 'yeah I want more of this!' when their only exposure is Three Houses.

Anyway I have three recommendations on where to start, it's a series with seventeen main entries and who knows how many spin-offs so that can be pretty intimidating to newcomers, but most of them are one-off settings, like each game introduces a new world and new characters so you don't have to worry about playing most of them in order. All three of the games I'm mentioning are one-offs.

It kind of depends on what you're looking for most. Do you want something you can easily access on a modern console and is a much better representation of the series' gameplay and difficulty than Three Houses or my other suggestions (there's a lot of variance in that)? Then honestly, Engage is the place to go. People love to shit talk Engage and they did it before the game even released because of Intsys' lackluster marketing, and it was released right after Three Houses, people were always going to be extremely harsh on its direct predecessor. Hell, I wasn't even sure about it and put it off for a month or so when it came out, but now that I've played it I love it a lot. Lol sometimes I think I like it better than Three Houses. Also your player avatar can marry everyone regardless of gender, something which is brand new in a series that's had marriage mechanics for a good while now. Back in MY DAY if we wanted that we had to install MODS or settle for a small handful of characters, if even that, Awakening didn't have any of that despite literally no one in that army being straight (no, not even Virion, who multiple people on this website have picked fights with me about).

Anyway if you want something that's nowadays a little harder to access but is still pretty modern, and if you want a fairly easy entry into the series in terms of gameplay difficulty, I suggest Awakening, which is my personal favorite in the whole series (even if in retrospect it's hilariously busted in terms of game mechanics and it's Cisheteronormativity on Steroids, but don't worry, we have very extensive mods for that and they're easier to install than ever!)

I haven't quite finished Sacred Stones yet but I also think it would be a good place to start if you want something pretty straight-forward and retro and you think you can handle getting emulators to work, because a lot of legit physical copies of older Fire Emblem games are insanely expensive. Like +$200 USD expensive. This game is also similar to other older titles in that it lacks a player avatar (which most modern titles have) as well as casual mode, which is an option you can choose where if a playable character falls in battle, they'll be usable in the next battle. They'll never die unless it's scripted in the game's plot. In 'classic mode', which is all you have in most older FE games, once a character's HP hits 0, they're gone for good. You can't use them anymore because they literally die. I mean... You CAN just 'save scum', that's what most of us do, but still. There's been so much elitist griping about casual mode vs classic mode over the years but it's died down a lot from at its peak when Awakening was the newest entry, Christ people would NOT stop bitching about Awakening having casual mode, or just about Awakening in general, despite the fact that it literally saved the series, helped make it one of Nintendo's 'bigger' IPs in the west, and is the only reason we have everything that came after that. So there you go.

[erisenyo]

"why does it feel like this is goodbye?" prompt- characters or ships are writer's choice. make me sad?🥺

For this prompt game! (And also this one!)

(Can be read as a follow up to this bakery first date one)

“—and I know you had certain plains and expectations,” Zuko continues carefully, feeling his fingers tangling more and more along with Sokka’s growing frown, “And I respect that you communicated those, this isn’t about your communication,” Zuko assures him, forcing his fingers flat against the bench and trying to breathe through the anxious tightness in his chest, “It’s me, not—”

“Zuko,” Sokka interrupts, sounding something between confused and upset, which does not help that anxious tightness thing, “Why does it feel like this is goodbye? Are you—” A flash of something small and worried over Sokka’s face. “—are you working up the nerve to break up with me?”

“What?” Zuko startles upright. “No, no. Why would…” he trails off, playing his carefully rehearsed speech back to himself, and…

 “Oh,” Zuko realizes, blinking. “Fuck.”

Sokka hums, nodding. “The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing.” Zuko winces. “And that we ‘needed to talk.’” Zuko winces again. “Asking to meet in a neutral location.”

“I like the park!” Zuko protests. “There’s turtles! And ducks!”  

“Saying you wanted me to listen before responding.”

Okay, sure, Zuko can give him that one too.

“That you��d decided there was something you needed to tell me.”

Alright, well that one is a bit less—

“The fact that you didn’t greet me with any tongue in that ki—"

“Okay, okay, yes, alright,” Zuko breaks in, glowering when Sokka just smirks and not giving him that one. “We all get it, I wasn’t very clear, thank you for enumerating every example.”

“You’re welcome,” Sokka grins, hesitating a moment before adding, almost diffident, “And just to clarify. You’re not breaking up with me?”

“No,” Zuko huffs, exasperated. “I’m not.”

Sokka blinks. “…Why did you just say it like that.”

“Um.” Maybe he can play it off. “Like what?”

“Like you think I’m about to break up with you.”

Maybe not. “Did I say it like that?” Zuko asks, gripping nervously onto the edge of the bench. There was a reason he practiced so much what he was going to say…

“Yeah,” Sokka says slowly, staring at him. “You did.”

Zuko purses his lips. He…can’t really deny that.

“Zuko,” Sokka presses again, “Why’d you say it like that?”

And it’s not that Zuko thinks Sokka would break up with him over it, not really. He knows all the jokes about Sokka’s favorite thing about him being that he can keep Sokka supplied in fresh-baked free pastries for the rest of his life are just that, jokes. Kind of. Mostly. But Zuko still doesn’t know the right way to break the news that, “There are no pastries tonight,” he finally blurts out, wincing. That…was not how he practiced.

And Sokka just staring at him blankly and going “Huh?” was also not what he planned for.

“The Jasmine Dragon is closed for two weeks so everyone can take vacation,” Zuko explains. As mandated by Ty Lee, their on-the-spot-designated HR person. “So there’s nothing in the kitchens.”

Sokka blinks, scratching at his undercut and once again deviating from Zuko’s carefully game planned script. “You’re going on vacation?”

“Not really?” Zuko says, confusion twisting in alongside the nerves in his chest. “I have some stuff to do.”

“Staycation?”

That sounds better than watching all of Ty Lee’s plants, so, “Sure. Why not.”

“Cool,” Sokka nods, “Maybe we can—wait,” he suddenly cuts off, staring. “Wait, were you—were you nervous to tell me this?”

“…Uh.” Kind of?

“Zuko,” Sokka says, mystified, “What.”

Zuko can feel himself flushing, embarrassment squirming through him. “I mean.”

“I just.” Sokka shifts, looking like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or get upset. “Zu, if it’s that important to you I can bake you box brownies naked or something, like really, there are options beyond the Jasmine Dragon.”

…Now it’s Zuko’s turn to stare. “…What?” he finally manages, feeling like Sokka just made about twelve leaps across the conversation that Zuko didn’t even know were happening, let alone managed to keep up with.

“I don’t know,” Sokka huffs, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m just, like, trying to communicate that this relationship is more to me than just suggestively eating pastries for you.”

Wait. ”For me?”

“And like, I know that’s how the past few dates have gone,” Sokka continues, upset definitely starting to win out, “But I don’t—” he stops himself, blows out a hard breath. “I don’t know what I did to make you think I’d only care about your ability to get me pet trios.”

“Petit fours,” Zuko corrects, automatic.

“Yeah, those,” Sokka nods. “I mean, they’re good, don’t get me wrong, like really, they’re amazing, but—”

Which Sokka said at length and volume at the time, so Zuko doesn’t feel bad about interrupting: “Every date.”

“—I don’t see—what?”

“Sokka,” Zuko says slowly, eyes careful on Sokka’s face, “It’s not just the past few dates. It’s been every date.” A fact that Mai was absolutely as merciless about when she found out as Zuk expected her to be, though not anywhere near merciless enough for him to stop.  

“What do you mean every date?” Sokka says, startled. “We didn’t do that after the BBQ.”

Zuko gapes. “Helping to toast buns inside while you man the grill outside because you underestimated the RSVPs and everyone else who could help was invited is not a date.”

“Yes, it is,” Sokka protests. “We did a shared activity!”

“No it’s not, we didn’t spend any time together!”

“A good relationship doesn’t require constant togetherness at all times,” Sokka frowns, sounding like he’s repeating some quote. “And neither does a good date.”

“It requires being together for more than ten nonconsecutive minutes,” Zuko says, incredulous, and Sokka huffs, waving that away.

“Well what about the movie?” he says, switching tact. “We didn’t do pastries then either.”

“You mean the movie,” Zuko says slowly, disbelieving, “That we didn’t plan to be at together? And happened to see each other at while we were out with our other friends?”

Sokka nods like Zuko somehow expressed agreement. “And that furniture thing, don’t forget that.”

“That ‘furniture thing,’” Zuko repeats, amazed. “When my sister hired you off Task Rabbit to build her new bookshelves?” Which was a thin and blatant excuse, even if Zuko theoretically appreciates her care.

“You were there, too,” Sokka points out, like Zuko could possibly forget.

“And we were both surprised by it.” Azula wasn’t, though. “And generally, one is not surprised to find themselves on a date.”

“…Hm,” Sokka says after a moment, pursing his lips. “Let’s circle back to this one later,” he finally suggests, “After we talk about your whole pastry panic food thing.”

“Fine.” If Sokka needs to be shown what a date is then Zuko will show him a date. “But why do you keep saying my food thing?” he frowns. “It’s your food thing, you’re the one eating.”

Sokka opens his mouth, nothing coming out. “Wait,” he finally says. “You don’t have a kink for it?”

“Me?” Zuko blinks, surprised. “You,” he corrects. “It’s your kink.” And Zuko doesn’t mind, its completely harmless as kinks go, and easy enough to indulge, but Zuko wasn’t worried about the sudden lack of free pastries for himself.

“No,” Sokka says slowly, confused, “it’s not.”

“....What?”

“Zuko,” Sokka says, incredulous, “You brought it up as a kink in our first date!”

“So we could practice informed consent!” Zuko protests, ignoring the startled look it gets them from the couple across the pond. “I didn’t care, I just wanted to know.”

“And you said your ex was always doing food stuff!”

“For her job?” Zuko says, gaping. “Her job as a chef?”

“…Huh,” Sokka finally says, looking rather…stunned.

“Wait, wait,” Zuko says, trying to catch up to this entire fucking conversation, fuck, no one can never know about any of this. “So you don’t have a thing for it either?” he asks a little desperately. “You said you were so good at it because you and your ex did shit like that all the time. All the time, Sokka!”

“I mean.” Sokka rubs at his undercut. “I did say that,” he allows, “But he definitely had some kind of oral fixation thing going on.”

“And you don’t?”

“I mean, it’s fun, sure, but I don’t, like, need it.”

They stare at each other a long moment, the quiet sounds of the pond and the city filling the space between them, until finally Sokka says, “…So should we maybe do a few dates that don’t involve food in any capacity whatsoever?”

“Yes,” Zuko says almost before he finishes speaking, “Yeah, yes, let’s—do that. Good idea,” he says, fumbling for his phone, Sokka doing the same as they both start looking up alternate ideas.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Lisa Selin Davis

Published: Jul 5, 2023

“Have you seen the latest study?” the psychologist asked me. 

I had called Dr. Ken Zucker, a man who had spent decades working with children and young people with gender dysphoria, to talk to him about the history of that diagnosis. I wanted to know who got to decide when something was a variation versus a deviation; who got to decide when a way of being gendered in the world was abnormal, and required treatment. 

By this time, I’d been writing about gender issues full time for about four years, since I published an op-ed in The New York Times about people assuming my masculine daughter was transgender and required social transition. Why, I asked, would we create so much meaning from a child rejecting the gender role associated with her sex? Isn’t that what GenX kids like me, reared with the soundtrack of Free to Be, You and Me, were raised to do?

The op-ed was supported by many, but vociferously objected to by some who accused me of transphobia. I was shocked and stung by that reaction. In the piece I said that I supported trans kids, but wanted to encourage children to explore both sides of the pink/blue divide without it reflecting on their identities—how could that be hateful? I reached out to some of my detractors to ask them to explain their views to me, and perhaps because I put in the subject line “What I got wrong,” some of them—including very prominent trans activists—agreed to do so.

I won’t name him, but one person who’d written a response to my piece, which had also gone viral, was a lawyer for an influential non-profit law group. He spent an hour-and-a-half at a coffee shop in the Financial District explaining to me that nuanced arguments like mine were dangerous. Deviating from the script, he said, always provided fodder for the right wing that wanted to oppress trans people and take away their rights and healthcare. Indeed, to my shock, Breitbart had written about my piece as an example of “slamming transgender ideology.” And Laura Ingraham’s people had reached out to me to appear on her show, even though I was clearly a full-throttle liberal. This confused and frightened me. I didn’t want to play for the other team. 

Others reached out to me, too, including a healthcare lawyer, and lesbian, who lived in my neighborhood. We met for coffee, and she explained the issue from her point of view: pharmaceutical companies were conducting experiments on gay kids. Though it sounded too wild to be true, ringing of conspiracy theory, her idea dislodged some doubt inside me. Two years before, a friend of mine had made a documentary about trans kids. I’d said to her at the time, “Why do they all seem gay?”

I powered through my doubts, writing a book about gender nonconforming girls, trying to represent diverse points of view in the project. Well, some diverse points of view. My friend who’d written a book about trans teens five years before told me that I should never mention detransitioners; I’m sad to say I took this advice to heart. It was too dangerous for trans people, she said, and I didn’t want to make life any worse for people struggling to be understood and accepted. 

Still, I questioned why so many of the people identifying as trans seemed to be rooting their identities in stereotypes. I was nuanced, but not in a way that could excite Tucker Carlson. I knew, like so many people, that something was wrong with the increasingly pervasive narrative about trans kids. I just didn’t have the knowledge and the language to articulate it. (This is something many people identifying as trans also say: they had a feeling. They didn’t have information, or a name.)

Then, almost a year after my book was published, I called Dr. Zucker. He showed me the study, and it was then I knew I’d allowed myself to be captured. The study followed young boys with gender dysphoria over a 15-year period. Almost 90 percent of boys desisted during or after puberty—that is, their gender dysphoria subsided. And almost 70 percent of them were bisexual or gay. Left alone, and not socially transitioned, almost all young kids now labeled as trans would not grow up to identify that way, and most would be same-sex attracted. The only time the media mentions this and the other studies with similar results is to discount them. Kids are routinely taught that gender and sexuality are not connected, but in fact, they are deeply intertwined.

From that moment of awakening, I allowed myself to look at the mountains of disruptive evidence that I had blinded myself to in years before. Once I saw it, I couldn’t look away. The mainstream media narrative about conversion therapy, detransitioners, puberty blockers, trans kids—it’s all deeply distorted and leaves out information that every person—especially every gender dysphoric kid and parent of one—deserves to know. 

One reason so many gay and lesbian adults are concerned about the medical treatment of gender dysphoric youth is that they experienced that condition as children. Like so many, they grew out of it, and later identified as gay. There is overlap between childhood GD, and childhood gender nonconformity, and later homosexuality; thus they see these medical interventions as a kind of conversion therapy. The media and medical community’s refusal to acknowledge that has left a generation misinformed. The left wing, and especially the left and center press, have gotten this story very, very wrong.

Perhaps the most shocking thing I learned is that the medical protocol used to “liberate” trans kids is the same protocol once used to treat or cure homosexuality, and still used to chemically castrate sex offenders. What if every brochure, every children’s hospital gender clinic website, every activist organization, led with that fact? Would more of us wake up, and faster? Would more of us covert to be on the side of evidence, truth, and nuance, rather than thought-terminating clichés? 

Let’s find out, shall we? Let’s inform people on the left properly, and see if we can push past the culture war to do what’s best for kids.

==

More successful at "fixing" gay kids than the Xian Right ever was.

[vickyvicarious]

some scattered lucy thoughts from today...

Town is very pleasant just now, and we go a good deal to picture-galleries and for walks and rides in the park. As to the tall, curly-haired man, I suppose it was the one who was with me at the last Pop.

Aside from the 'oh this is all so boring' joke, this list of activities definitely points to Lucy being a very active person. Later on she also talks about other things she likes to do which support this. I think Lucy is a bubbly and outgoing/active person who usually has a lot of energy.

He has a curious habit of looking one straight in the face, as if trying to read one's thoughts. He tries this on very much with me, but I flatter myself he has got a tough nut to crack. I know that from my glass. Do you ever try to read your own face? I do, and I can tell you it is not a bad study, and gives you more trouble than you can well fancy if you have never tried it.

@dathen has a great more heartwrenching take on this line which I just reblogged, but in a more lighthearted direction I just love the image of Lucy making faces at herself in the mirror. I want so badly to see someone make cute art of it.

I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore. That is slang again, but never mind; Arthur says that every day.

Lucy doesn't care much about fashion. I kind of wonder if her mother cares more and always tries to ensure Lucy is in the latest fashions or whatever, and it's something she's lightheartedly complained about with Mina before. It feels like a familiar reference.

Also, Lucy seems like the type of person to have fun being caught up in new interests that people she likes enjoy. She finds it really fun to imitate Arthur's slang, and gets kinda proud about the idea of being an interesting psychological study, and that sort of thing. She is probably a really good listener. (And now I'm picturing Mina excitedly infodumping to Lucy as they walk along holding hands, Lucy listening with great interest. 10/10 date.)

But oh, Mina, I love him; I love him; I love him! There, that does me good. I wish I were with you, dear, sitting by the fire undressing, as we used to sit; and I would try to tell you what I feel. I do not know how I am writing this even to you. I am afraid to stop, or I should tear up the letter, and I don't want to stop, for I do so want to tell you all.

I have some thoughts about Lucy and speaking freely. I didn't notice how much emphasis is put on it, but when you're thinking about it specifically in those lines there is a lot going on here. It isn't just Mina who wants to be with Lucy where they can talk freely. Lucy feels the same. The way she starts the letter very politely avoidant about how much Arthur matters to her is probably much closer to how she speaks to most people about him, or even most things. She talks about trying to tell Mina how she felt, about not knowing how she's even saying all this, that she should stop, that she doesn't want to, she's writing this in a quick burst of emotion/courage. And sure, it could just be the overwhelming newness of her romantic feelings, but I think Lucy has a tendency to hide how she really feels if it would rock the boat or upset/worry people - regardless of the situation. You know, she acts like she is fine and happy even if she doesn't feel that way. And (vague hinted spoilers) the ability to speak freely specifically is something that has later relevance for both women, so I find it really interesting to see aspects of it in both their first letters.

I also think it's part of why she likes Arthur speaking slang (and later on another man speaking a different sort of slang) so much. It's more relaxed and individual and gives her a little thrill to deviate from more polite and proper scripts. It isn't something she does on her own, but if someone else initiates it's easier to join them. Or at the very least to enjoy listening to.

[asherlockstudy]

Did you see the loft video on the society????!

I am not in the society but I was well informed about it by a friend!

I assume the moment you are interested more here is the "if I lost the ticket to heaven, so did you"?

My thoughts about it in bullet points:

Just another time they bring up religion / heaven & hell without it being necessary. I am not buying Rhett is completely over his past self. They mention religion at least once per week and Rhett spends a huge part of his free time reading or listening to podcasts about it.

I am sure you know what I believe Link meant by saying Rhett lost his chance to go to heaven. Note the finality in it, it's not like Rhett can repent or return to the faith. They phrase this as if it's something that can not be undone and they also do not regret. So... you know what I believe.

You know this is a sensitive topic for Rhett, even when it is mentioned for fun like it was here, so he's quick to point out that "If I lost the ticket to heaven, then you lost it too". It is a tandem jump, like it will be in the new show too.

It’s interesting that Rhett initially thinks it’s not true that he lost his ticket to heaven. First of all, are these two guys truly irreligious or non-Christian now? ‘Cause they talk about little else 😅 Anyway, his initial denial in my opinion comes down to the fact that he still explores all themes of Christianity, he consumes all content, all diverse interpretations of it, he looks for answers. I have said it before, I don’t believe his basic reason for abandoning the faith was the evolution and scientific achievements not adding up. The main reason was probably even for him what Link said it was about himself; that the religion was closing the door to certain kinds of love. Rhett has described himself as a hopeful agnostic, which means he would want to return, once he finds the answers he seeks. In other words, they abandoned their faith so that it would not abandon them first (like a “you are not kicking me out, I am leaving on my own” type of thing) and at least Rhett would probably return to it if he knew he truly would be accepted in the way he is.

Another interesting thing is that there is a mutual blaming following. Rhett's response bites a little, he says "If I lost it, then you lost it too. How do YOU feel about that?", I sense a slight bitterness in there, a veiled accusation. And Link promptly mutters "'t is your fault, 't is your fault". So he responds with an accusation that it was Rhett's fault they both lost heaven. Link’s response is the most baffling to me, unless he just instinctively responded to Rhett’s implied accusation in the same way, without thinking it much. It baffles me because like I have explained in my analysis posts, it always seemed like Link would be the one to be initially “blamed” between the two. Unless Link considers Rhett’s existence the whole culprit for Link’s feelings “deviating”, you know. But most likely it was just instinctively deflecting and returning the blame… Unless we have gotten something that wrong and Rhett was the initiator. This would actually be in character for him, however based on all their scripts and previous discussions, it just does not seem to have been the case. Surprisingly, it seems it was Link. So, Link’s response here was a little odd.

You know, they have talked about the same thing before but it landed on a different conclusion - that of ending up in heaven (by God’s mistake). This is a transcript from the notorious GMMORE #1904 with the Valentine compliments.

Link: I love remembering the time we died together; this is heaven.

Rhett: ……. Oh wow. Because I killed you and you killed me?

Link: Yeah, right. Right. We killed each other. I don’t think you go to heaven when you kill your friend.

Rhett: No, if you kill each other at exactly the right time, God doesn’t have time to make a decision and he’s like “Okay!”. (laughs)

Link: (laughing but somewhat meaningfully) Good ol’ God.

Rhett: (laughs harder) Yeah, that’s how it works. You gotta kill each other, you gotta die at exactly the same time, he’s like “Ah they cancel each other out, let them in”.

Link: (still more meaningful about it) How are we gonna do that, I wonder?

Rhett: How are we gonna kill each other?

Link: Yes…. I think we need a spike and we both need to run at it.

Rhett: No, you know the thing in, it’s the pressurised CO2 thing in that Cohen Brothers movie “No Country For Old Men”, that they kill the cows with?

Link: You are talking about a cattle prod.

(…)

This is about the same thing. Link mentions as something he loved remembering doing with Rhett “dying together” - and their present at the time was their heaven, according to him. Of course, Rhett makes the discussion sillier and tries to come up with the mechanics it would take to actually be in the heaven after such a thing. Link, who’s more serious about this, plays along but only to press out of Rhett an answer regarding how they could kill each other at the same time (they use future tense, however in the beginning Link used the past sense; the mutual killing had already happened). Link was hoping for an enlightening comparison there and they both offered it. Link compared their mutual killing to both running together onto a spike and Rhett compared it to Bardem’s prod in the movie and he commented later that they both should attach each end of it to their foreheads. They both came up with an elongated thing that penetrated them one way or another. This was how they killed each other and died together and their lived reality at the time was their heaven but in a future discussion about the real heaven the very same thing is what prevents them from entering it.

In the loft video, they talk about the real heaven and they don’t equate it to their present life so Link reasons Rhett has lost this heaven. Rhett then exposes the similarities to the conversation above, saying that the “missing the heaven” situation is completely mutual and they exchange blames for it, exactly like - you made me lose heaven, - no you did. You killed me. No, you killed me.

[megplant]

Help me, Tangerine writers - this is in my WIP’s and I like the vibes but I don’t really know what to do with it!! Help!

___________________________________________________

He’s not quite a regular, not really. He’d have to come in regularly for that to be true. He always pops up at random, a few days in a row and then you don’t see him again for ages. Sometimes the absences are brief, a week or two, but sometimes long - 2, or 3 months. Once, nearly six months passed before he and his brother were back at your bar. 

Really, he didn’t need to be a regular visitor for you to have noticed and remembered him. He stands out. 

“Whiskey, rocks, love. Please.” 

The gold rings decorating his fingers catch the light prettily as he holds up a credit card between them. You blink, once, gaze held by the movement, before you recover and take the proffered credit card. 

“Run it, or you starting a tab?” You ask him, although you know the answer, same as always. 

“Just the one, thanks.” 

You smile in response, running through the motions to charge the drink to his credit card and bundle up the card and receipts in a slim leather checkbook to hand to him. 

“Let me know if you need anything else.” You give him another smile before turning to take care of other people waiting at the bar. 

“Sure thing, thanks, love.” He responds with a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, adjusting his cufflinks before picking up his glass. 

With a small sigh, you watch him walk away from the bar, moving for a high top he could sit at alone. You’ve had the exact same interaction, nearly line for line, every single time he had come in to your bar. You weren’t exactly keeping track, but it had to be dozens of times now that he’s come in, ordered a single glass of whiskey, sat alone for a while, and left. 

Sometimes, if it’s very busy and there’s no tables, he’ll sit at the bar. You’ve had a few small conversations from these occasions, but it’s too busy and you don’t have time to indulge your curiosity with all the questions you want to ask. 

There were a few occasions where he brought his brother, a much more talkative and friendly sort. Those visits stood out in your memory, as it was the only times either of you had deviated from your script. You’d found out he was much less formal than he appeared, bickering with his brother and cursing every other word. 

And sometimes, he stays all night, his usual one drink becoming bottomless. You’ve watched him stare into his glass, wondering what he had seen to produce a look of emptiness like that. 

On those nights, the brother swoops in for a last-call rescue, bundling him up and hustling him away with a fond irritability that makes you smile. 

Your partner on the bar tonight nudges your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie, as you both watch him meander around the crowded bar. It’s crowded tonight, the first warm evening in months, and everyone had the same idea to come out and enjoy the weather. The bars wide windows overlooking the Hudson are all thrown open, and the view and the breeze had lured an eager crowd here. There’s no free tables, only a few stools left scattered across the bar. “He’s coming back over here!” 

You pinch the arm that nudged you, shooting her an annoyed expression. “Go away!” You hiss, swatting her forward as she moves back down to her end of the bar. 

He sits down, shooting you an expressive look with his eyebrows raised high. “Busy tonight, I guess.” He offers as explanation for coming back, sitting in the raised plush barstool furthest from the other patrons. Somehow, he looks sheepish, which pulls your lips into an amused smile.

You’re holding about 7 beer bottles nestled between your arm and your stomach as you pop the bottle caps off, one by one, and set them in front of a group of younger guys waiting. “No kidding!” You shoot back with a wry smile before your attention is pulled in three separate directions and you can’t pay closer attention to your mystery man.

[granulesofsand]

TW: Programming talk [not in depth]

I saw you answer an ask about RAMCOA and questioning if someone suspects they have been through it, something like that. I have a similar question, definitely from the same vein, and I'll try to keep this relatively simple. Some context is required for our specific case and why we are asking, but a general answer is also appreciated.

My general question is that: could someone not remember the RAMCOA they experienced?

I have suspected that my system contains programmed alters, but we have no tangible memories of RAMCOA. I feel like I would remember something like going through RAMCOA, if that makes sense.

This question comes from a place of pure ignorance, to be so honest and upfront. I've tried to do my due diligence when looking into RAMCOA and others' experiences, but every time we look into it, we have to take a huge break because of repeated triggering of what we think would be one of the programmed alters we suspect [of which there are five alters we suspect are programmed]. On top of that, bringing up him, and the subsystem he's from [all of which are suspected to be programmed alters], in therapy has been counterproductive for our safety. The last time we tried, he [the specific alter] triggered us to have a psychotic episode for 2 weeks, and it was dangerous for us. It was such a drop of a pin, snap of a finger trigger that it was jarring and terrifying. Straight up terrifying. I haven't experienced an episode so severe since I was medicated for my psychosis symptoms [so like,, 6+ years].

Our therapist tried to reassure us by saying that 'your brain split him because you needed him', but I cannot FATHOM why my brain would split off him [whose sole purpose is to trigger those episodes, as well as a second purpose I won't state] or any of the alters we suspect are programmed. They cannot deviate from whatever purpose they had before, and our usual approach with getting alters to work with the system, rather than against it, simply does not work. New approaches? Those don't seem to work either [or we just haven't found a way yet, ig]. He and the others can't deviate from what we call their 'scripts', just for the sake of labeling the experience we're going through. We don't even know if that [scripts, but in the way we are using it] is specifically a RAMCOA term, but we can't understand their behavior and that's the closest thing we can call it without calling it 'programming' or 'programmed behaviors', which we are unsure of it actually being that because of the lack of memories of RAMCOA [circled it back to the question].

Feel free not to answer this ask and straight up delete it. Your system's safety is more important to me than knowing the answer /gen/. Especially since I can't even say I will see you answer because I don't follow you, and likely one of the two gatekeepers from that bunch of [suspected to be programmed] alters will eat the memory of sending in the ask. I just generally don't have a place to ask this, and bringing it up in therapy isn't an option at this current time if the specific alter keeps getting retriggered. The only reason the gatekeeper of the subsystem [of the possibly programmed alters- the gatekeeper is his own can of worms] is letting me send this ask in is because of the anon feature and not being a follower.

🗝️🏷️ deprogramming, programming, neither with much detail

As always, I can’t tell you anything for certain. You can take as much of this answer as you find useful, and it’s just as good if that’s none of it.

You can absolutely have survived RAMCOA and not be aware of it. Systems are usually programmed so they don’t remember, and that can include the alters with the jobs.

Our system was designed to have at least three alters for every program; one who was present for/remembers the pain of the programming, one who formed in response to/to hold the beliefs of the programming, and one who carries out the assigned task.

The three are usually together under one shell, which looks like one alter to the rest of us, and have amnesia barriers between them. Sometimes they’re in different areas, or have some kind of bond that connects them in separate forms.

We also struggle with uncooperative insiders. Building trust takes a long time, and they were not sitting patiently while we worked on that. They had been taught to view the others they were hurting as subhuman, and continued to do their assigned tasks and disrupt healing.

Programming isn’t required to get alters who function this way, but deprogramming follows a similar process.

When the symptoms are present, or if you can interact with this insider without those, ask them why they do it. Ideally, start respectful. Keep asking questions, and acknowledge the good of whatever they’re doing— that helps them to feel understood, and they will have some reason for doing their task.

Sometimes the first answer (that isn’t cussing, staring, or leaving) is along the lines of “because I want to” or “you deserve it”. This is where you ask follow-up questions, such as why they want to or what you did wrong.

It might take negotiating to speak to them at all, and they’re likely to give an answer that riles you up. Regardless of what they meant by it, you have the bestest (/src) role of mediating and gentle parenting them. You might not actually be much better, but you gotta present a face that they can trust, and you can’t break that trust once you get it (as in try not to and make repairs when you do).

With programmed systems, a lot of alters are formed while the body is young. Our group programmed to have systems regulate themselves by 13, and programming typically stops before the system is expected to start their own life around 20. That often leaves insiders, particularly those who never surfaced, stuck at whatever developmental age the body was at when they were trained.

It’d be easiest to ask them how hold they are and how old the body was when they were around, but you might be guessing if they’re not talkative. Try not to talk above their developmental age, and use basic words where you can without using a baby voice at them.

Showing fear is unlikely to help, but so is aggression. Meet them where they are, match their tone and posturing unless it triggers defensiveness in them, and practice asking questions without interrogating, which some programmers teach lockdowns for.

And that’s the game; you keep trying and make sure they can understand when you address them. Working on memories happens when they’re ready for it, so you likely won’t have confirmation for a while.

In the meantime, make sure they’re comfortable wherever they are (as opposed to stuck in memories), and make some safety plans until you can ask for their jobs to be undone or turned down.

I think asks are supposed to show up in your notifications when they’re answered, so maybe you’ll see this. If you do, I’m sorry it’s all vague and grueling. Welcome to deprogramming, whether you need it once or a thousand times over.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

The 2003 Script, Act 3

Act 1 | Act 2a | Act 2b | Act 3

Previously on The 2003 Script: Ben has escaped the FBI and Ian has the Declaration. Things have played out more or less they way you're familiar with them, with deviations growing with each act.

And now welcome to the crunchy, stabby, boney, wet third act of the National Treasure that could have been!

Trinity Church

Ben and Ian meet in Trinity Church and banter over whether they can trust each other. Ian says this:

IAN I actually quite like you. If we weren’t such enemies, I do believe we’d be great friends.

→ Fellas is it gay to think you’d be friends with the guy you’ve been trying to kill for two weeks if you weren’t trying to kill him? Magneto wants his bit back. In all seriousness, I do like this element of the final film, although back to the “on the nose” bit we talked about earlier, Ian doesn’t have to say it. It’s clear that they do have a lot in common and they could have been friends. I mean they were friends before the Charlotte. They played poker together. Ian was very supporting of Ben, and I don’t think that was only the means to an end.

Shaw brings in the Declaration and the bifocal glasses…and Ben STEPS ON THEM. He smashes the glasses so Ian can’t find the treasure without him.

Dude.

Ian holds a gun to Ben’s stomach.

→ Again, as we talked about in Pt 1, Ian and Shaw aren’t as differentiated as in the final film, where Shaw does the gun stuff on Ian’s behalf. (Fellas is it gay…)

Ben wants to trade the treasure for the Declaration. Ian and Shaw leave their guns behind at Ben’s demand.

As they exit the church, and old lady in a shawl grabs Ben’s wrist. It’s ABIGAIL. She saw the map back in Philadelphia and knew where to head. (She ditched the FBI with the old sneak-out-of-the-restroom trick.)

Sadusky tracks them by asking what in Manhattan hasn’t changed in 200 years.

→ That’s actually a really interesting approach! I’d like to see more of it. This kind of thinking could have been a neat direction to take part of the movie in.

Back at the church, Ben, Ian, and Abigail head into the Trinity Church Graveyard, where Riley is waiting. There is no “X” as the map promised. Except….

The map showed a moon, so maybe the X can only be seen at night. Ben opens the doors of the church and light spills into the graveyard…

…where a gravestone in the shape of a TEMPLAR CROSS casts an X-shaped shadow on a LONG STONE CRYPT.

At the base of the crypt is a keyhole.

Ben takes the meerschaum pipe, which Ian also had Shaw bring, and SMASHES IT to reveal a SKELETON KEY.

→ Stop destroying priceless historical artifacts you maniac! This does not totally seem like a person who would risk his safety for the Declaration, actually.

The key triggers a stone door to open in the crypt. Ben heads inside and the door starts to close. Ian, Shaw, and Riley scramble in, with Abigail diving in just as the door closes and landing in Ben’s arms.

The chemistry…electric.

→ There’s no world in which I would describe their on-screen relationship this way, and I like them a lot as a pairing. But just…no.

Ben wants Ian to give him the Declaration, but Ian doesn’t trust Ben to turn and leave the treasure behind, not where they’re this close.

→ Interesting! Does Ian know this Ben better than we do? Ben isn't really a character with a flaw, in the traditional sense, but if he were going to be, is this it?

Riley is sure there are traps coming because he’s watched Raiders of the Lost Arc too many times.

→ This is what I mean about this version being too genre-aware. By Riley pointing out the tropes we all know are coming, it flattens them. It invites us to focus on the ways in which the movie is derivative and “of its genre” rather than the ways it is different.

Then a SKELETON FALLS FROM THE CEILING!

SURPRISE! They’re underneath a mass grave of Hessians, German soldiers who fought for the British during the revolution.

→ It’s Abigail who explains this, which is a coincidence, but it’s a weird little rhyme with the fact that she ends up being German in the final film.

Shaw notices the pistol in one of the skeleton’s belts. He reaches up, tries to yank it out…

…and GETS FUCKING STABBED IN THE CHEST BY A BAYONET.

Then he stumbles through a dirt wall and falls a long, long way down to his death.

→ Shaw was always destined to die in the treasure pit I guess.

Ian immediate reaction is:

IAN Well, that was unfortunate, now wasn’t it?

→ Which is exponentially less gay than his reaction in the final movie.

Down the shaft is an elevator similar to the final film, but here there are no winding stairs or chandelier, it’s just, like, a hole. The elevator is also an enclosed wooden box.

And a million rats and cockroaches poor out when they open the door!

They all get in and descend with little fanfare.

---------------

Back on the surface, Sadusky has arrived and finds the broken pipe in the graveyard. He sees the disturbed crypt and orders a jackhammer be brought to the scene.

---------------

Down in the elevator, the gang observes that this elevator is designed to only go one way: down.

When it stops, there is WATER UP TO THEIR ANKLES.

→ That’s right! Hold onto your raincoats kids because we’re doing an underground water sequence like the one that would eventually end up in Book of Secrets.

They step into a stone antechamber and find a stone platform with three Templar swords stuck into it.

RILEY (sing-song) It’s a trap.

Ian pulls out a sword anyway. The SOUND OF RUSHING WATER intensifies.

Ben finds a bas relief of a snake cut into pieces. Join or die.

Then water FLOODS THE CHAMBER. The gang is up to their chests in no time, and the DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE IS FLOATING AWAY.

Abigail is able to grab it and hold it over her head.

Ben announces that they have to place a sword in each of the three vertices of a triangle carved into the floor. Literally working together or they die.

Ben dives down. Riley thinks this is nuts, but there’s no other choice. Ben and Riley retrieve the other two swords, then they and Ian dive down to do the thing while Abigail holds the Declaration above water.

---------------

Up with Sadusky, they’ve made it through the crypt wall.

---------------

Back down in water hell, the boys struggle to find the slots and insert the swords. Abigail and the Declaration get submerged just before…success. Ben finds the third sword spot and the stone ceiling starts sliding apart.

→ The final film moves the major obstacle of the finale sequence from an intentional one orchestrated by the tomb builders to an unintentional one as the stairs had become structurally unsound after 200 years underground. And I really like this change! One trope I’ve never liked all that much is what we see in Book of Secrets with the leave-one-man-behind tilt table. Because then I start asking questions like Who built this? What about the people who actually have to get to the treasure? (And especially to Cibola) How do they get in? I actually really love how time becomes an obstacle and a danger for them as much as, or more than, anything else.

---------------

Up top, Sadusky is to the elevator shaft, but it’s completely flooded.

---------------

Down below, Abigail, Ian, and Riley have surfaced but Ben has not. Ian picks up the Declaration. Ben emerges from the water, having retrieved one of their flashlights.

They use the light to see…a bronze alter stolen from the Temple of Solomon in the 5th century b.c. They find torches there and light them, revealing…

…THE TREASURE CHAMBER.

Dozens of marble Doric and Corinthian columns line the walls of the cavernous chamber filled with ancient treasures. Crown jewels, gold and silver plates and chalices, gilded cherubim, olivewood furniture, carriages, loot from the Oracle of Delphi, and countless sacred artifacts.

Ian is ready to have full digging through the treasure room but Ben just wants the Declaration back.

Ian would rather pick up the SWORD OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT…

…AND STAB RILEY IN THE STOMACH WITH IT!

→ The increased violence with the henchmen has at least payed off here. It might feel even more plot-armor-y if all of Ian’s crew was killed but no one on Team Treasure gained a scratch. However, this leaves Riley and Abigail sideline for most of the rest of the finale. And also, Riley!!! No!!!! My baby boy, you cannot do that to him. All in all, I think the level of violence in the final script works for the movie. We understand how much peril the gang is in with Shaw’s death and the addition of the stairs sequence.

Cue the second shirtless—or at least bare arms and a tank top—scene as Ben balls up his shirt and holds to Riley’s wound. Abigail holds if there while…

…Ben and Ian get into a sword fight.

Ben uses random treasure objects for defense until he finds a sword of his own. Ian is pissed that Ben has to be all noble instead of just debating how they’re going to divvy up the treasure.

IAN I don’t trust honest men.

→ He and Jack Sparrow agree on this, at least.

Hey!! I wrote this wayyyy before the Abigail and Elizabeth series. Hehe.

They duel. The Declaration falls to the ground.

Abigail has Riley take over applying pressure while she dives for the Declaration, which is rolling towards the drain…

…and she misses!

The Declaration is stuck down in the drain, out of her reach.

Ben’s sword breaks and he’s back to using random objects for defense, which Ian is gleefully destroying.

Ian gets his sword stuck in one of the pillars. Ben pushes a Greek limestone statue toward Ian. It crashes into the pillar, leaving just enough space for Ian to not get crushed.

But Ian can’t get over his own hubris and anger, so he yanks the Sword of Alexander out of the pillar, causing the statue to fall and dying a Disney villain’s death.

→ I realize this is a Disney movie, but you know what I mean.

The falling statue breaks through to the elevator shaft, flooding the treasure room. The cavern begins to collapse.

Ben uses the Sword of Alexander to smash open the drain, allowing Abigail to reach the Declaration.

Riley is still making snarky, genre-aware quips as they pull him half-conscious through the antechamber and back to the elevator. Ben cuts one of the elevator chains so that it shoots back up and carries them out of the shaft.

→ One of the most fundamental changes of the story that we see from this script to the version filmed is the final fate of the treasure. The script follows the Raiders of the Lost Arc/The Goonies model where the heroes don’t get to keep the treasure. I understand what why this is a thing. It underscores how the protagonists are noble and are willing to let the promise of riches go to save themselves, or something like that. And it can be used really effectively, such as in Finding Ohana, one of my favorite newer treasure hunt movies. However, I don’t know. I like that they get to find the treasure at the end. Although it certainly raises several blog posts worth of questions about what happens to the treasure next, that scene where they find the treasure room and are so awed and overjoyed by it is one of my favorite parts of the movie. (I realize I say that about many parts of the movie, but it’s true!) The score swells. Ben and Patrick celebrate the culmination of their family’s life’s work. Ben finds the pendent we saw on Christopher Columbus in the opening exposition, bringing the cycle of treasure protection full circle. Abigail is awed by the scrolls from the Library of Alexandria, underscoring the historical value of the find, and also reinforcing her character as an archivist devoted to preserving documents specifically. Riley has his moment with the “big bluish-green man with a strange-looking goatee.” Everybody takes in the treasure in their own way, and it’s special to me, okay? In this version, Ben is so focused on getting the Declaration back that he doesn’t even get to appreciate the treasure? In fact, he and Ian destroy quite a bit of it in their fight. I don’t know. It just doesn’t hit the same.

Up on the surface while Riley is literally dying, Abigail lands on Ben and they have another moment.

→ 😑

Sadusky is here. The Feds and police swarm to help/arrest them.

Later, Sadusky hands the Declaration over to an armored truck

which pulls away with an escort of a dozen police cars.

EMTs load Riley into an ambulance.

→ So we were pretty accurate with our predictions in the aftermath series on this count.

BEN Aren’t you going to arrest us? SADUSKY What for? You do something wrong?

He even offers them a ride, which Ben and Abigail decline.

It’s only as Sadusky is leaving that we get CLOSE ON SADUSKY’S HAND to see that he wears a SILVER MASONIC RING of the type we’ve seen in several flashbacks by now.

Ben laments that no one will ever know about the treasure. Abigail kisses him.

When he asks if that one meant anything, she responds

ABIGAIL Only time will tell.

Months later

Ben, Abigail, Riley (now healed), Patrick, Sadusky and his team, Dr. Herbert, Woodruff and the rest of the guards all watch as the Declaration of Independence is raised back up into its case. Woodruff even sheds a tear.

This is a secret ceremony only for the people who knew the Declaration was ever missing in the first place. They scatter back to their regular routine after observing that

WOODRUFF No one will ever know.

They open the doors and patrons and tourists flood the museum.

Outside, Agent Sadusky comes up to Ben and Riley. (Abigail and the others having gone back to work). He’s got a project for them.

SADUSKY It seems that, well, the President’s been looking for, uh, something else for a very long time, and he would very much appreciate your help in finding it.

Riley complains that he never got paid for the last treasure hunt.

SADUSKY How much do you want?

They continue talking as we pull up to a glorious panorama of Washington D.C.

FADE OUT.

→ So there you have it! National Treasure, the 2003 script. It ends very much where Book of Secrets does in the final versions of things. You can see quite a bit of the DNA of BoS in this finale. We’ve already spent quite a bit of time on this, so maybe we save the postmortem for another post, yeah? In the meantime, tell me what you thought!! Had you read the script before? What do you think of it?

[keicordelle]

A commission for Autumntidal_Storm! Thank you for letting me be a part of this intimate moment in Autumn and Alphinaud's relationship!

My ficlet commissions are open through kofi, and if you're interested in a longer piece, send me a message and we can talk!

-

"Let's go over the plan one more time." Alphinaud's voice was a hushed whisper, the fluffy tip of Autumn's ear brushing against the top of his head as they huddled together. The door to the Rising Stones, usually such a familiar comfort, loomed large and imposing over them.

Alphinaud's hands fluttered even more than usual as he recounted the same script they'd gone over a half dozen times in the last hour alone, but Autumn could hardly fault him. It would be fine, he knew that - or at least, he was pretty sure. Confident enough to repeat it to Alphinaud, at the very least. Not confident enough to calm the butterflies that flitted about his stomach, though.

"But what if-" Whatever tangential edge case Alphinaud might have conjured was cut off by the sudden creak of the Rising Stones' door as it opened, nearly smacking them both on their heads on its way. Tataru stood framed in its arch, a look of surprise on her face. Alphinaud's over-wide eyes were practically her mirror, but Autumn could see the nerves that swirled in his, making his fingers flutter and his ears redden. How much had she heard?

"There you two are." Tataru recovered swiftly, gesturing them into the Stones. "I've been looking all over for you. You're the last to arrive."

"Oh. That's... good," Alphinaud offered weakly. Autumn bumped him with his shoulder in a silent show of support, and, ignoring the anxiety that thrummed beneath both their breasts, they followed Tataru down into their home.

Their friends awaited them, their chatter a dull roar that Alphinaud could barely hear over the rush of his pulse in his ears. A half dozen sets of eyes strayed in their direction and then away, noting their entry but not deviating from their current conversations. It was really just as well, Alphinaud figured. Better to give himself a moment to prepare. And if Alphinaud didn't catch the discreet arch of Y'shtola's brow, the subtle dip of Urianger's chin, or knowing glint to Thancred’s eyes, then it was just one less thing for him to worry himself over.

Gathering his courage, Alphinaud straightened, taking a step forward. The poignant sound as he cleared his throat cut through the ambient chatter like a knife. "Everyone. We have an announcement we'd like to make." This was it. All eyes on him. Alphinaud hesitated, his heart suddenly in his throat as he looked out at his friends and comrades. He trusted them more than anyone else in the world. Gods, what if they disapprove?

A light brush against his palm startled him back to himself, Autumn's fingers weaving through his own and squeezing. Right. Alphinaud took a steadying breath, flashing him a smile of thanks, before he continued. "Autumn and I are together. Romantically.”

A beat of silence as everyone's eyes slid down to their joined hands. Alphinaud's grip tightened on Autumn's, and Autumn rubbed soothing circles into the back of his hand as they waited for the Scions' reaction.

Thancred's snort broke the tension, an easy acceptance on his face, and Alphinaud let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Well obviously.”

Alphinaud blinked at him, half convinced he'd misheard. But Y'shtola was watching them with a knowing grin tilting her lips and that slight quirk to her tail that Alphinaud had learned to read as playful, while Urianger nearby watched them with a fondness that could only mean this was not news to him either.

"Did you think you were being subtle with all your longing gazes and covert touches?" Y'shtola asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Thine affection is as plain to see as the north star in the depths of blackest night.”

Alphinaud's heart swelled to see them so easily accept their relationship. Relief turned his limbs to jelly and eased the fluttering anxiety that beat in his stomach. They really were alright with it. Autumn had been right, he should have trusted in them-

Just as he was about to relax, he felt the hand in his pull away, leaving his sweaty palm cold and empty. Alphinaud just barely caught the flash of his cheeky grin before Autumn threw his arm over Alphinaud's shoulders, hanging off of his smaller frame. Backed by the dark blue of Alphinaud's jacket, the ring that graced Autumn's finger glittered, snug and damning around the slender digit. The collective gazes of the Scions settled on it, and time seemed to slow for an instant, as though the very air within the Rising Stones held its breath. Now the Scions' eyes widened in shock, Y'shtola's lips parting in disbelief and Tataru rocking back on her heels.

"What he means to say is that we're engaged," Autumn said casually, mirth playing about the corners of his lips. "He's not just my beloved, but my betrothed."

Alphinaud thought his heart might pound straight out of his chest in the beat of silence that followed. He stumbled over his own tongue in his hurry to say something - anything - to fill the pregnant pause that hung in the air. But before he could even force his clumsy tongue to do more than stammer, the other Scions erupted into a supportive clamour, broad grins splitting faces and genuine delight shining in their eyes.

"Oh my, oh my, we're going to have to take your measurements again! Don't you worry, I'll make sure you're dressed in the most beautiful wedding attire anyone has ever seen!" Tataru's hands fluttered twice as fast as her mouth, her eyes already sparkling with designs and plans that she would no doubt be overjoyed to share.

"'Tis an honor unparalleled to chance to witness thy growth," Urianger said warmly, and if it weren't for the people standing between them, Alphinaud would have embraced him. "Full glad am I to see the joy you bring one another."

Thancred stepped in to clap Autumn on the back. "You're going to make a fine husband! I can't think of anyone better for him - and we all know you'll do everything in your power to keep him safe."

Y'shtola hung back, supportive in her own way as she levelled a matronly stare on Autumn (though he wouldn't dare say as much to her face). "Warrior of Light you may be, but not even the blessing of Hydaelyn shall save you should you hurt him."

"Yes, ma'am," Autumn answered earnestly, and her posture eased at that, her air of lighthearted teasing returning.

But one person was notably absent from their celebratory fuss, and Alphinaud looked around anxiously, searching for his twin. What if she didn't approve? That everyone else was supportive meant the world to him, but if Alisaie rejected their relationship, it would just about destroy him.

He found her standing towards the back of the group, her arms crossed and a stern expression furrowing her brow. Alphinaud's heart leapt into his throat in the same breath as his stomach fell through to his feet. "Alisaie?" he ventured hesitantly, tension constricting his voice.

"Why didn't you tell me, you lousy pillock!” she burst out. Despite the harsh tone to her voice, there were happy tears in her eyes, and she was smiling in spite herself. "We could have gone ring shopping together! I could have helped you plan everything!"

Alphinaud winced apologetically. "I'm sorry. It was a rather spontaneous affair." That he had already had the ring and had been holding onto it for some time, he decided to keep to himself. It would only make her more affronted.

"You had best believe I'm going to help you plan the ceremony, at the very least." She jabbed her finger in his direction, and he could practically feel the poke of it against his sternum despite being half the room away.

"Does that mean you're not angry?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, dropping the act in favor of exasperated affection. "I'm happy for you both!"

Relief coursed through Alphinaud, chasing away the last dregs of adrenaline. Thank the Twelve they were all so supportive. He wasn't sure what he would have done had the Scions rejected them out of hand, but full glad was he not to have to find out.

Autumn leaned down to press his lips to Alphinaud's temple, his voice a soft brush through Alphinaud's ears, low enough that no one else could overhear. "See? I told you they'd be alright with it, didn't I?"

Alphinaud couldn't help the smile that spread his lips, joy bubbling up to fall as laughter from his tongue. He wrapped Autumn up in his embrace, squeezing tight to his beloved - his betrothed. "You were right."

-

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