#it would be such a fascinating mess to behold

[two-corpses-in-the-burial-mounds]

I don't know what kind of timeline shenanigans would have to happen to put RevengeEra!Wei Wuxian and RevengeEra!Nie Huaisang in the same place but man do I want to see it. They would not fix each other. They would, in fact, make each other worse. And I, for one, would love to see it

[beatinginavoid]

From the Deep

Every part of this room was custom built for one purpose. It was a purpose that many had believed would go unfulfilled. Yet here and now, the room was in use. The lights were dim, and reflected lights danced over the ceiling and some of the walls in mesmerising patterns, dancing and flickering endlessly.

The alluring light dance came from the ripples of the water that filled a massive tank. It took up the full length of one wall, a good thirty feet minimum. It was not quite fifteen feet tall, and contained no foliage or ornamentation, empty but for the water and one other thing.

A figure glided through the water. Sleek and swift, every motion it made caused more ripples on the surface.

The upper half of the figure resembled a young male human, while the lower half was that of a scaly tail with fins. A merman. A legend proven real.

He was a sight to behold.

He had been caught on the edges of the deep sea and seemed to live there. His body certainly suited that mostly unexplored area of the ocean, and what an intriguing body it was.

The merman’s entire body, from his short, wispy hair, to the very tips of his tail fin, was completely transparent. No muscles were visible, nor was there much of a skeletal figure to be seen beyond sharp teeth and a spine. Interestingly enough, no blood vessels could be seen, but every single internal organ, including the muscle that served as the heart, was completely on display.

Multiple cameras were focused on the tank, recording every movement, internal and external. This was groundbreaking new territory, history being made, and no one wanted to mess it up or miss a thing.

They only had one merman so they had to be incredibly careful.

There were thin, barely visible lines following the curves of what you assume are the ribs. The gills? The lungs resembled biology closer to a stingray or a shark, leaving more immediate space around the heart unlike a human, whose left lung hugged the muscle and partially hid it from sight. This was incredibly helpful for an unobstructed view of the epicentre of the cardiovascular system, especially for the excited medical staff that had access to this magnificent specimen.

Standing in front of the tank, the merman’s interest is caught right away and he lunges toward you. He smacks heavily into the glass, his shiny black eyes observing you unblinkingly, his head tilted in confusion as his hands lay flat against the tank wall. He floats to a stop upright, mimicking your posture.

The atria squeeze and his heart swells minutely before the ventricles twist a little and contract. The process repeats again and again, the pumping action fast and relentless. Throbthrobthrobthrobthrob. It’s so hard to look elsewhere because the motion is so hypnotic.

His heart appears to resemble a human’s so much, you can’t help but wonder if it sounds similar as well. A stethoscope was not an option, but there had to be a way.

Time slips by and you notice the rapid pace of his heart has slowed down significantly. Throb…throb…throb…throb…throb. You feel as if your own heart is trying to match it. Does his pulsing organ feel stronger than your own nestled in your chest?

Throb…throb…throb…throb-ob…throb…throb…

Was that a skip? Fascinating to witness!

Was it normal? Harmless? Indicative of a problem?

You scurry off to find help with your stethoscope problem, returning an hour later with a special microphone designed for underwater use. Such devices are used to record the sounds of dolphins and whales, and you hope it will be enough to pick up the merman’s heartbeat, especially if it ends up against his chest.

There’s a metal staircase at the far end of the tank and you ascend it. Leaning over and holding the microphone, the cord wrapped around a pole, above the water carefully, you lower it bit by bit. The microphone is attached to a box with a waveform metre and a speaker. It crackles and gurgles in a muted manner while it moves, the sound loudly reverberating around the mostly empty room.

You wedge the pole into place and resume your former spot before the tank. The microphone dangles in the water just above your eye line and your gaze quickly hones back in on the merman’s chest. The organic pump was still dutifully performing its sacred role, filling with blood and ejecting it to circulate around the rest of his body.

The mer himself gives you a cursory glance before hesitantly reaching out to the invader in his space. Fingers tipped with claws poke at it. Thuds ring out from the speaker and you smile.

He drifts closer to it, his face getting quite close. Fangs flash and the microphone screeches and groans as it is bitten. The mer lets it go quickly, jaw working open and closed a few times. It seems the taste, and maybe the texture, is not to his liking. A see-through hand grasps the microphone with surprising gentleness, creating a ruckus of awful, distorted noise.

Dexterous looking fingers inch their way up the microphone. A slender wrist follows, then a forearm and elbow. He continues to cautiously follow the cord higher and higher, and you bounce on your heels in eager anticipation as his chest finally draws level with the microphone.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

There it is. What you’ve been waiting for.

The rhythm, the rate, the snap of valves, the distinct S1 and S2 sounds that make up the oh so familiar lub-dub. There is no way you would ever be able to distinguish this from a human’s regular heart sounds. This could be a major evolutionary find!

The merman freezes in place, his head tilting around. There were no visible ears but he was clearly listening to something. Could he hear the speaker projecting his sounds of life? After a few seconds he sucks in a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, and lets it out.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

His eyes are wide and he seemed as enthralled by the sound as you are. Several beats had visibly and audibly skipped and it had been an amazingly delightful experience for you. The acceleration and deceleration of that pulsing muscle was something that could keep your attention for hours.

Or until the call of nature became too much to ignore.

Your hand presses against your chest, your own heart meeting it with faint pushes as if determined to be a part of things.

Throbthrobthrobthrobthrobthrobthrob-

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

The fast pace of your heart feels weird as the merman’s restful beats fill the room. The two disparate rhythms seem to work together against all odds.

Human and mer stay in place, living in the moment.

-----

My first proper post on here and my first ever piece of cardiophile writing! 🫀🫀🫀 I hope you like it! I may make this mer an OC and play with him more...

pssst: will trade writing for art/anims

[leggerefiore]

Pretty sure I never saw this idea: s/o getting the shock of their life when they find an Egg one day and it becomes quickly apparent that it belongs to their own Pokemon and their sweetheart's Pokemon. The couple and their Pokemon raise the babby once it hatches, and when the hatchling becomes independant it convinces s/o to want to have an actual baby. With submas, Larry, and Cyrus pls and thnx ☺️

cw: fluff,

▲Ingo▼

● It was a surprising sight to behold. Most certainly to Ingo, who had awoken you in a strange mix of panic and frenzy to see what had broken his usually strict morning routine. His Chandelure was floating lowly, almost near the floor. It might not have been concerning, as she could have been sleeping, yet that was not it. An egg sat underneath her as she delicately worked to keep it well heated, but not too much. Ingo gazed at you and then back at the pokemon. You could only shrug. Did he expect you to know something about this?

● It was then you realised your pokemon was sleeping nearby. Your heart dropped when you remembered its egg group. For a pokemon that sure did not like you, it seemed she excused your team members. Or maybe she just wanted an egg. That would not surprise you, honestly. Ingo seemed to snap out of his trance with the scene when his watch blared out an alarm, and he rushed to finish getting ready. A promise to discuss this later was exchanged as he called Chandelure into her pokeball and departed from the apartment, leaving you alone with the egg.

● You and your pokemon watched over the egg all day until Ingo's amazingly on time return in the evening. He took the egg from your lap to look it over with curious eyes. With some uncertainty, he shined a light through the egg to check whatever was developing inside. Ingo seemed to be following directions given to him as he observed everything carefully. In the end, he hung his head. It was a Litwick, he declared. You sighed. Another ghost was soon to haunt your Nimbasa apartment's halls. Hopefully, this one would like you. Ingo then fell into a long-winded explanation of your and his duties in caring for the egg and how to divide them equally as possible.

● It was both simple and difficult to care for the egg. Unfortunately, due to the pokemon inside it, holding it often resulted in exhaustion from life energy consumption, yet it could not be simply abandoned in a corner. Besides, it was oddly fun speaking to the egg. Ingo, at least, certainly enjoyed to. Many times, he would speak softly to the egg, assuring of how much it was going to be adored and cared for whenever it decided to leave its shell. He and his Chandelure were obviously utterly fascinated with the egg. You felt happy for him, but strangely unsure yourself.

● Much to your terror, the Litwick decided to hatch when you were alone to care for it. A panicked phone call to Ingo had him assure you that he would come home as soon as he could. The poor candle pokemon was just as confused as you were as it made its way to you with a sad, desperate cry. Realising what it wanted, you picked it up. It nuzzled into your chest and soon dozed off while you waited for Ingo's return. When Ingo finally was able to get a break, you jumped at his sudden entrance. Before he could go into one of his endless messes of words, he was silenced by the sight of you cradling the baby pokemon. His cheeks became flustered as a small smile twitched across his lips.

● Somehow, you both were cursed with the neediest Litwick ever born. Chandelure tried desperately to keep it company, but it always seemed to desire you and Ingo to be near it. One of you would calm it down, sure, but it preferred having both of you and would not be contented until then. The Litwick loved to be settled between you both, obviously draining your life energy until Chandelure or your pokemon lightly told it off. It, too, loved to sleep in the bed with you and Ingo, whining until it was let up or floated up by Chandelure. You wondered if it would ever end.

● However, you were not prepared for when it did. The end came with its evolution into Lampent. Gone was the clingy little candle that followed you around the house, in was the newest shadow of Ingo, Lampent. You supposed there was nothing strange about it. Ingo was a strong, capable trainer, yet you missed the lazy afternoons spent playing and napping with the Litwick you had come to love. You could only debate where those feelings would go in the now empty days.

● Your answer came to you, which led to you catching Ingo during dinner. Calling his name softly, you watched as he placed the fork down to gaze at you. His silver eyes were filled with both concern and curiosity. “… I think… I think I want a baby…” you told him meekly. How would he react? Sure, he loved helping kids around the station and doting on the Litwick, but that did not necessarily transfer to wanting a family. Your foot tapped against the floor nervously.

● Ingo's eyes lit up instantly as he reached a hand across the table to grab yours. He was utterly stricken with something. “I… I have been meaning to ask you that myself,” the Subway Boss admitted with a flustered expression, “I'd love to, dearest. There is nothing I would like more than that.” You gasped and tightened your hand around his own. Both of you soon fell into an eager discussion about your future.

▽Emmet△

○ Seeing a pokemon egg around the apartment was not that odd of a sight, truthfully. Emmet's beloved activity of Joltik breeding usually led to finding them quite frequently and him lovingly carrying the egg everywhere until it hatched. It should not have felt odd, but it did. There was no nearby Galvantula watching the egg, nor had Emmet apparently noticed it. Rather, your pokemon was the only one near it. Quite protectively, you might add. You quickly debated the egg group of your pokemon before realising you had left them out last night with Emmet's Eelektross.

○ The twin was weirdly eager when you told him about the circumstance, giggling over the phone and asking you to keep an eye on the egg and your pokemon until he got off, so he could properly investigate. You agreed, of course, a bit uncertain about what to do and trusting his opinion as a pokemon breeder. It was strange to think about how quickly it had happened. Your pokemon and his were naturally close due to spending so much time together, but you had not thought they had gotten that close. The sight of your pokemon carefully protecting their egg was adorable, however. You took many pictures.

○ When Emmet arrived, he immediately worked with you to take the egg from your pokemon's possession and give it a once over. He hummed as he shined a light through it and did some light tapping. Whatever he was doing, he ended up quite confident in himself as he bravely declared it to be a Tynamo. The twin instantly began to explain how to care and watch over an egg before humming and making a schedule for splitting the egg duties. You followed along carefully and began to work with him on watching over the egg.

○ It was not easy, needing to carry the egg around and monitor it constantly, but the work felt worth it when you saw how eager Emmet was to greet the pokemon that was developing inside. He would coo softly to it, telling it about how excited he was to meet them and help train them. Its development would be checked regularly by him, and you could only watch in intrigue. By some luck, when you were both together is when the egg began to crack. Emmet and you crouched near it as the shell slowly began to be forced apart by the pokemon inside.

○ The little Tynamo looked up at you both with its confused eyes as it squirmed pitifully. Emmet picked it up and quickly took it to a prepared tank. His Eelektross and your pokemon had wandered over to watch the little EleFish pokemon grow accustomed to its new existence. You leaned onto the twin's shoulder as he brought an arm around yours. You wondered how the little guy was going to grow, but you trusted Emmet to see it through everything.

○ For a while, the Tynamo was quite dependent on you both. It was not the vicious predator it would grow into and needed to be fed whatever diet Emmet seemed to think was best for the electric type. You watched as many evenings were spent with him testing a meal on his Eelektross before feeding it to Tynamo. The little fish-like pokemon would come to brush against you sweetly whenever you reached a hand in its tank, nuzzling into your palm and enjoying the pets you had to offer. Emmet and you both sat around to just observe the pokemon. Sometimes your own would make desperate sounds at the baby, or Eelektross would try to climb in the tank, which prompted Emmet to stop him.

○ It almost felt like it would stay like that forever, but the little Tynamo did not stay little for long. It evolved into an Eelektrik one evening, and gone was the cute, confused baby. Now it wanted to fight and play, Emmet bringing it along with him to the station or having it battle it out against his pokemon. You felt sad, missing the big eyes of the Tynamo. The evenings spent together doting on the cute baby pokemon. You allowed Emmet to take the Eelektrik as his pokemon, trusting him to raise it correctly from there on out. But, you wanted something still.

○ “Emmy…” you called out to the Subway Boss after he came one day. The Eelektrik you both raised following behind him like a shadow. Your heart ached. He tilted his head at with you a soft smile. A “mhm” was your signifier to continue. You took his hands in yours as you met his eyes meekly. “I… I want a baby,” you told him. His eyes went wide. For some reason, you were terrified he was going to say no. He was too busy with his job for one.

○ Instead, his hand let go of yours as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a tight embrace. Kisses covered your face as he giggled in an almost creepy manner. His silver eyes met yours as a wide grin spread across his face. “Me, too!” he cooed, “I want twins.” You gulped. He twirled you around before carrying you to the bedroom. It seemed you were getting your wish.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Larry shook you awake in a near panic. It was obvious he had not been awake for long, as he was still dressed in his sweats and a t-shirt. You rubbed your eyes as you yawned and got out of bed. Following him into the living room, you saw a mess of blankets and his Staraptor in the middle of it. You tilted your head. He shoved a hand under the bird and pressed up against the fluff of its feathers to reveal an egg hiding underneath it. The odd, aggressive sound from his Staraptor had him retreat his hand as you saw your pokemon bringing another blanket to the flying-type.

🍙 Looking at the clock, Larry suddenly rushed back into the bedroom and toward the en suite bathroom while you tried to figure out just what happened. It was obvious from how amicably Larry's Staraptor took the blanket from your pokemon that they had some understanding. When had they…? You felt distressed by the apparent breeding that had happened. Larry already had like… twelve pokemon, and you had your own amount. Another was a distressing prospect, yet you barely had time to discuss it with Larry as he called the flying-type into its ball and rushed out the door with his briefcase.

🍙 Your pokemon dutifully took up where his Staraptor had been forced away from, and you could only sit down on the couch and wait until Larry got off to figure out the next steps you were going to take. When he did return that evening, you could tell the day had been rough. His normally slicked back hair was a mess, and there was obvious irritation on his hands. He sent out his Staraptor, who rushed over to the egg. It instantly returned to its brooding, dismissing yours from its carefully observed duties. You both looked at each other in a strange sense of understanding. The egg was staying, whether either of you wanted it to or not.

🍙 Caring for the egg was mostly easy, as the pokemon seemed most interested in doting on it. Still, both of you had your moments with the egg. Your pokemon seemed especially fond of allowing you to hold it and cuddle with it. You wondered what pokemon was inside as you felt the residual warmth from the shell. Larry had a harder time seeing it, as his Staraptor was fiercely protective over it. Yet, it relented to its trainer and allowed him to see it. His nervousness was apparent about it, but he was extremely delicate. Well, until he made a remark about craving omelettes.

🍙 You both watched as his Staraptor stood up suddenly one evening to reveal a confused baby bird tucked underneath it. The Starly chirped pitifully as it gazed at Larry and you. You watched as Larry lifted the pokemon up and met its eyes. A small smile came on his lips. You leaned against him as the pokemon eagerly nuzzled into Larry's hold. His Staraptor and your pokemon watched the exchange carefully. Somehow, you felt like the Starling pokemon was going to grow up fine under the guidance of the double Gym Leader-Elite Four member.

🍙 The baby bird pokemon was very needy, as was expected. Larry's Staraptor had to do unspeakable things to feed it, which you averted your eyes from, but besides that, it almost always wanted to be sitting on you or Larry. Though, you could see the pokemon's preference for the businessman. The sight of the Starly nuzzled up in his lap was a common one. Larry's hand would gently comb through its feathers as he watched television vacantly. Other times, you would have your own bird cuddling time. Though, mostly, it loved to show its developing talents in loudly chirping songs, of which Staraptor joined in often. Your pokemon found time to cuddle with the Starly for a nap.

🍙 This period was a passing one, however. The Starly would soon evolve into a Staravia and thus gained a stronger sense of independence. Its flying became more elegant, and it had long passed the need for Staraptor to feed it. The favouritism towards Larry led to it joining the businessman during his work and even joining in on his battles. You felt strangely lonely without the constant chirping and playing of the little Starly within the apartment. The nest of blankets was cleaned up, and you felt strangely empty.

🍙 “Larry,” you found yourself lying awake one night beside your lover. His eyes opened slowly as he let out a strange groan. You held back a laugh. Staravia was tucked away in one of his many pokeballs now. You nuzzled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body and the smell of his choice of body wash. “Do you think… Do you think we could start a family…?” you asked quietly, nervous about his response. Larry did not seem to be the type for settling down like that. Despite his moniker of the extraordinary everyman, his home life had been quite uncommon for most men his age.

🍙 An arm came lazily across your waist as he pulled you closer to him. He rested his head atop yours as he yawned. “Sure,” he eventually replied, “If you don't mind having one with me.” You immediately moved to look up at him. Pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, you smiled. Of course, you wanted one with him. The affection was returned as his arm pulled you closer to him. Soon, you would have your own “Starly” with Larry.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ You felt stumped as you stared at your pokemon. An egg was pressed against its body as you pondered just how it possibly obtained one. There was not a chance you had bred it with anything. Your mind raced with many possible reasons, but eventually, you settled on the most logical. One of Cyrus's pokemon must have bred with yours. You sighed. What a mess. Debating the egg group and comparing it to the blue-haired man's choice in a team, you felt oddly confident in it being his Weavile.

☄️ Alerting Cyrus to this change felt strange, especially with how busy he always seemed to be. You honestly had not been expecting a response. But, unexpectedly, he did. He informed you that he had seen his Weavile curled around the egg that morning before he left. Apparently, you were free to do whatever with the egg since he did not really have any strong opinions on it. You found it to be something oddly romantic that yours and his pokemon had created an egg together, so you decided to keep it.

☄️ His arrival home that evening had left him quietly stricken as you slept on the couch with the egg carefully pressed to your chest. Worst of all, his Weavile rushed over to snatch the egg from you and curl around it once more, purring loudly. Cyrus had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation. It seemed both you and his pokemon were keen on doting and caring for this egg. The task seemed needlessly stressful and interrupting, and he wanted no part in it. Still, however, the image of you cuddling the egg remained in his mind.

☄️ Caring for the egg was mostly easy for you, choosing to carry it around and monitor it on your own. It was cool to the touch, but you found yourself all the more desperate to keep it warm. Which, thankfully, you were aided in by Cyrus's Weavile and your own pokemon. Both seemed to be utterly in love with and protective over the egg, which made it feel less stressful upon you. Unfortunately, Cyrus, himself, seemed uninterested in hatching the egg with you. Yet, somehow, the pokemon inside picked a time when both you and he were around to start eviscerating its shell.

☄️ A small Sneasel escaped its casing, moving around pitifully. Soft, desperate whines came from it as you delicately picked it up and presented it to Cyrus. He stood stiffly as the newly hatched pokemon stared at his with a loving expression. When you held it near him, a loud purr erupted from it and startled him. His Weavile and your pokemon rushed over, both lightly headbutting yours and his legs, wanting to see their baby. You could already tell it was going to be interesting raising the sharp claw pokemon.

☄️ As it grew, it proved quite needy and with clear a preference. It loved Cyrus to be the one who served it food, choosing to follow him around whining and clawing at his legs until he broke down and gave it what it so demanded. Not to mention how it always seemed to want to be carried by either him or you. There was something special about watching Cyrus's disinterest forced away by the needy kitten. You wanted to grin whenever you saw the Sneasel curled up in his lap while he read through documents on his tablet. Weavile was often nuzzled into his side as well. Your pokemon and you almost felt left out in the intense Cyrus love.

☄️ As the Sneasel grew, however, you could only see it grow more independent. It wanted to play and be alone, not doted on and cuddled. The dark-type wished to go with Cyrus when he left to do whatever his work entailed for the day, leaving you alone in the home. You felt strange over the change. Sure, it had obviously had a preference for the blue-haired man, but you still had plenty of time to dote on the cute kitten. Well, no longer, you supposed. It had really grown into its claws and left the nest. You pondered just why you felt so upset.

☄️ “Cy…” you mumbled out after he came in late from his work. Your arms wrapped around him after he entered the living room and scolded you for waiting up for him. Finally, you realised why you had felt so sad to see the pokemon leave you. Looking up at him pleadingly, you spoke, “I want a baby…” He froze, and his eyes went distant. Had it never crossed his mind? Probably… Cyrus always seemed afraid to get attached to anything. A child would only be viewed as getting in his way. Your heart sank.

☄️ “… I… Do you?” he repeated the question back to you. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders as he pushed you away from him to meet your eyes. “Beloved,” Cyrus's voice was deadly serious, “What as brought this on?” Your explanation left him even more mortified. Everything felt bad. You had upset him. Before you could open your mouth and blurt out an apology, he spoke again, “… Not… now. Soon. We can talk seriously about this soon, I promise.” You felt calmed down by his words. Soon. Soon, hopefully, you could convince him to your side.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Continuation of Moments.

Ok! Maybe Reader is helping out with a bake sale & Eddie stops by to support it. There are some leftover cookies afterwards, so Chrissy convinces her to bring them to Hellfire. Eddie asks her to stay & has her sit in his lap while he DMs.

Request by @munson-blurbs

Warnings: None, just fluff.

If any of you have other requests set in the Moments universe, let me know. ❤️

❤️

It was nearing Halloween, your favourite time of the year. Golds, vivid reds and orange leaves fell from the trees, the scenery during Autumn was a sight to behold.

This was your happy place, everyone was in good spirits, Hawkins was well underway decorating for the month, everywhere you went was decked out for Spooky season.

Today you were hosting a Halloween bake sale with the rest of the cheer team, the spooky cookies you made with the others were a hit.

Pumpkins, ghosts, bat's and witches hats were arranged in baskets, along with Hot chocolate and warm apple cider.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie makes his way over to you, his big brown eyes light up when you smile at him.

"Hey, sweetheart. Everything looks good" he picks up one of the bat cookies and nods in approval.

"I'll take one of those, gotta support the prettiest lady in Hawkins right?" you stifle back the urge to turn into a giggling mess and lean closer to him.

"Thank you, Eddie" You reach over and kiss his cheek, his eyes widen, turning a slight shade of pink.

He pays for the cookie and joins some of the Hellfire boys who are teasing him. When he glances at you with that cute dimpled smile on his face, you blow him a kiss.

Just like before he catches it and winks at you.

❤️

The bake sale is a huge success, there is a few cookies left over and Chrissy holds them out to you with a sweet smile on her face.

"Why don't you take these to Hellfire? You could see Eddie again" she teases, flustered you take the basket.

Seeing Eddie again was not something you would pass up on. Your crush on him was growing stronger and stronger by the day.

As you head to the drama room, you can hear Eddie and the rest of Hellfire setting up.

When you enter the room he beams at you and you gesture to the cookies.

"Hi, I hope you don't mind me dropping in, fhere was a few cookies left over. I thought I'd bring them to you and the rest of Hellfire"

He bounds over to you, his brown eyes full of joy as he takes the cookies.

"We have a little while before everyone else arrives, why don't I teach you a few things about d&d?" he asks you and you accept, excited to spend more time with Eddie.

For a little while, you perch on a blushing Eddie's knee as he points out all the figures in d&d and the dices, how to play.

It's fascinating, watching Eddie in his zone, so passionate makes you even more intrigued by him.

You find yourself disappointed when the time with him ends.

"Until next time Eddie, maybe then you can take me on a real date" You wink at him as you leave and he gapes after you.

"Princess, wait. I have to ask you something" Eddie calls out.

❤️❣️

[galleylapresident]

Behold: the blorbo AU arises from the depths to beat out all my other AUs to have a proper one shot written about it.

It started, oddly enough, with Kalifa. Despite Paulie's endless rants about how women should dress, he was always the first one to attack anyone who dared take advantage of one of the "scantily clad hussies" around Water 7. By the third time Kalifa watched Paulie hurl a drunkard through a window and into a canal for laying hands on a waitress, she knew for a fact that Paulie was all bark and no bite where women were concerned. No matter what he said, he'd be the first at her back if anyone tried anything.

Blueno was next. Despite Paulie's endless I.O.Us and ever-growing tab, Paulie always helped him clean up and close the bar on nights he was around. He even refused to take discounts on his drinks for the free labor. "Friends should help friends" he insisted while carrying in the endless kegs of beer that went into watering the thirsty mouths of Water 7. Hours and hours of work went into helping Blueno haul stock, clean spills, and repair broken furniture for free. Despite the mess of his personal life, Paulie was never one to turn way when someone needed help.

Then it was Kaku. As the youngest of the shipwrights—barely eighteen—he knew he had to prove himself to the older and more experienced shipwrights if he wanted to get close to Iceberg. That meant hours studying ships after work and meticulous effort to ensure that each knot, nail, and board were placed correctly. Paulie was at his side the entire time. Whether it was quizzing Kaku on different techniques or dragging him to Blueno's when he felt like his eyes were about to melt out of his head, Paulie always seemed to know what Kaku needed. He was always there, a willing teacher and listening ear.

Last was Lucci. At first, he saw Paulie as little more than what was on the surface. A skilled shipwright, Iceberg's first disciple, and a drunkard with a gambling problem. In many ways, Paulie was simply a problem that Lucci would eventually have to eliminate. Constantly attacking Kalifa for her clothing, following Kaku around the worksite all the time, and the way he was constantly beggin Blueno for drinks were just a few of the ways Paulie made himself a nuisance. That wasn't even counting Paulie's obsession with hearing Lucci's real voice or the debt collectors that skulked around the worksite each day. Truthfully, it seemed a miracle that Iceberg hadn't kicked Paulie out yet.

And yet... there was something fascinating about him too. About the way Kalifa always turned to Paulie whenever she needed a hand with disposing a handsy asshole. About the way Paulie knew exactly where Blueno kept his cleaning supplies and how he liked to organize the stockroom. About the way Kaku's knowledge had improved by leaps and bounds and how Paulie was happy to show off Kaku's work when Iceberg was around.

About how he took the time to research the kinds of foods that were good for pigeons. How he always made sure Hattori was out of the way before getting into it with Lucci. How he never pushed Lucci to speak despite his endless jokes about Lucci needing Hattori to talk to people.

It was baffling. It was absurd. It was... nice.

Paulie was an unfailingly kind person where it counted. In the world they had grown up in—one of assassins, murder, and unflinching devotion to the world government—that was rare indeed.

So it started with Kalifa, then Blueno, then Kaku, and finally Lucci. One by one, Paulie wormed his way into their hearts. None of them voiced it, but they all knew that Paulie was someone they would protect if their mission allowed it. He was a good man. If he could curtail his flaws, if he could defend himself and Water 7 from people like them, Paulie would be the perfect man to take up the reins after Iceberg

After all, even if Iceberg willingly handed over the plans, he would still need a successor one day.

And who better to secretly prepare Paulie for such a fate than them?

[triflesandparsnips]

I'm not seeing enough deep-dive nonsense about the new Good Omens season 2 poster drop on my dash, and by god that means I must be the one to deliver it.

For those who haven't seen it yet, behold:

...there's a lot in here to go a wee bit feral over, if one was so inclined, and lord knows I love an inclination.

The Obvious Stuff

1. There Was Only One Bed Chair

This is the bulk of the commentary I've seen, and tbh, it's pretty great. "I am bored/busy and ignoring you but also what is personal space, never heard of her, we will not be taking questions at this time."

Notably, however, this is the second time we've seen them back to back-- the majority of the poster art we saw for the first season had them side by side. In both cases they're in a position to face some third thing together-- the difference, perhaps, is that side by side might imply equality of situation, while back to back implies implicit trust that the other won't stab you there.

2. The bookshop

Aw, look at them. Look at it. What a glorious little mess. This is them in London. Arizaphale looks pleased with the situation; Crowley looks bored af but he's also squished up on that one dang chair, so there's a "cat sitting next to you because parallel play and mirroring are the Best Interactions" feel to it.

3. Tea and wine

Arizaphale's got a teacup, Crowley's got a wine glass, this is very Them and indicative of their Vibes. Tbh, I think this is just a nice bit of design work, but it's worth calling out.

4. The outside street

The shop across the way is using a Gothic and reads "GIVE ME" before being cut off. No clue what it means, but it probably means something.

5. The tagline

The previous tagline we got was "Something's going down in the Up" (with that grey feather falling between their black and white wings)-- this tagline reads "Everyday it's a-getting closer."

Easiest interpretation is, oho, we're getting closer to the second season, and gosh there will be some Plot in it. And sure, yes, it works for that too, huzzah. But leaving aside the "it" and what that may mean-- "a-getting" is a fascinating word choice. It evokes similar constructions like, say, the somewhat obscure "Sumer is icumen in" (a song about the changing of the seasons and also encouraging a cuckoo to go lay some eggs in other birds nests if u no wat im sayin eyyyyy)-- and the significantly less obscure protest song "The Times They Are A-Changin'", whose ending stanza is:

The line it is drawn

The curse it is cast

The slow one now

Will later be fast

As the present now

Will later be past

The order is rapidly fadin'

And the first one now

Will later be last

For the times they are a-changin'

Gosh.

Now the Real Fun Starts

This poster is a composite image (as so many ads are), composed of different bits and pieces to form a whole impression -- based on fun stuff like relative pixelation and whatnot, you can often tell what portions of an image were there to start with, and what were specifically added in after the fact. How packed this poster is in tiny details -- which is exactly where I would hide fun hints to things -- is generally a cue for me to take a closer look, and I have been, I think, rewarded.

1. The books with legible titles

Zoom in on Aziraphale's book-- he's reading Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. The "two cities" in play are Paris and London, and the book is set before and during the French Revolution.

It's the story of a man who had been previously imprisoned in the Bastille for 18 years, and then was released to go live with his daughter -- who he has never met, what with the whole "imprisoned" thing -- in London.

The opening paragraph is:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

The pile of books in the foreground have two visible titles: the topmost one is Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (a "novel of manners" that's considered a heavy-hitting romantic classic, and also yes the leads are both prideful and prejudiced and it takes an entire book for them to clear that up) and Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island (a young adult coming-of-age adventure story about a kid who finds himself on an adventure with a bunch of pirates to discover buried treasure).

Of note: A Tale of Two Cities, Pride and Prejudice, and Treasure Island also all have note tabs sticking out of them, and are the only books that have them. This is reminiscent of how Arizaphale studied and referenced Agnes Nutter's prophecies.

Some of the books beneath the window technically have titles, but they appear to be about as pixelated as the rest of that section, and so I suspect they're just part of the scenery.

Similarly, most of the books on the background shelves are like that as well, except:

Joseph Heller's Catch-22 (A satirical novel set in World War II; Wikipedia briefly explains that "the novel examines the absurdity of war and military life through the experiences of Yossarian and his cohorts, who attempt to maintain their sanity while fulfilling their service requirements so that they may return home." The book also coined the phrase "catch-22," which is a situation someone can't escape because of paradoxical rules-- in the case of the book, you can't ask to be evaluated for insanity so that you can be exempt from flying dangerous missions, because "anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn't really crazy.")

Iain Banks's The Crow Road (and a first edition, perhaps? I haven't read it, but apparently it's a Scottish family drama about a perfect murder against the backdrop of the 1990s Gulf War. Its opening line is "It was the day my grandmother exploded." The phrase "the crow road" is a euphemism, in the book, for death.)

Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim (Sparknotes says it's "the story of a man named Marlow's struggle to tell and to understand the life story of a man named Jim" -- a young man who goes to sea, makes a terrible and cowardly decision while following his leaders, and then spends the rest of his life haunted by it.)

There's at least one extra, partially obscured title:

It appears to read "THE BODY ------ and ------", which makes me wonder if it's an anthology of murder mystery short stories.

Leaving aside the uncertain book, commonalities between many of these books include:

soldiers, war, and the horrors/absurdities thereof

doubles and parallels

death and murder

a young/inexperienced protagonist thrown in with more experienced/weirder folk

fragmented and out of order narratives, sometimes having to be pieced together from multiple viewpoints

...pirates

2. The strange but noticeable inserts

There are several images that have been inserted into the poster that -- unlike the teacup and wine glass mentioned above -- don't seem to make a lot of contextual sense and are therefore, perhaps, extra information. These include:

a. the three lizard boys

b. the broken smartphone

c. the matchbox with the quote on the side

d. the camera

e. this statuette that seems suspicious

f. this record and scroll that seem out of place

g. the clockface with the missing hand (which may be just for the Aesthetic, but whatever, I'm including it)

What do they mean? No clue. I suspect it will become apparent as we get trailers and/or the actual show.

In Conclusion

Uh.

Look. Design teams can do all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons. All of this could mean absolutely nothing.

But.

Using my magical powers of bullshit deduction, I might look at all this, and that grey feather falling from the earlier poster, and say... well... the war's still ongoing, yeah? So maybe... maybe there needs to be a new angel keeping an eye on things on Earth. Or an eye specifically on Aziraphale and Crowley.

And that would look SUSPICIOUS, right? So this is an angel who's maybe... a little bit Fallen. For the sake of the Mission. Like, they've agreed to sin just a lil bit, just enough to justify being thrown out of Heaven, and they're not actively in Hell because they're, oh, just stopping off, or maybe just going really slowly, or maybe they were sent back up from Hell because they were still "too good" and all that Pureness of Spirit was stinking up the place--

Whatever. Point is, they're on Earth, they're very confused, it sure would be nice if these very Established metaphysical elders could give them a few hints about how to get on. We'd then get to enjoy a Guide to Living a Totally Normal Human Life given by these two disaster dorks, plus whatever nonsense is derived from, idk, various extraneous plot shenanigans, probably involving a Murder and maybe a MacGuffin Maltese Falcon.

And most importantly: this new angel? Wow no they couldn't possibly be a spy because again WOW, what kind of angel would deliberately Fall? Wouldn't that require doing the wrong thing to do a right thing? ...okay maybe, but can it really be wrong if it was done by command? ...well, wait, it surely must be wrong because otherwise the mechanism wouldn't have worked-- but then, wait, which thing was the wrong thing--

And Aziraphale and Crowley would watch this bouncing volley of cognitive dissonance with great interest, also possibly while holding hands.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Yo what are your thoughts on Decepticon Optimus? because I enjoy daydreaming about Optimus who decided to go disguise himself as another bot and joined the Decepticons to get information since no one else wanted to do it.

I just find such a concept interesting

A fascinating idea, but unless we are talking about some messed up brainwashing, logically I see no real reason why Optimus would go undercover considering his size, rank, morality, and everything else. But I can try and come up with a reasonable explanation since this is such a neat idea.

Undercover

After a particularly nasty battle, Optimus was out of commission. His armor was shredded and a good portion of his frame melted or otherwise misshapen in some way, shape, or form. His injuries could be repaired and he could still fight, but the demoralization that would come from him looking so horribly mutilated on the battlefield wasn't worth it. Not only that, but preparing the necessary materials and specialists to fix all the damage to his frame, cosmetic and practical, would take quite some time. And so at a meeting trying to determine the best course of action, Jazz piped up from the back.

Jazz: Why not make the best of this situation and send Prime out to the Decepticons undercover?

Ratchet: *choking on his drink* Send him WHAT?!?!

Jazz: Yeah, he don't look anything like himself at the moment, no offense Prime.

Optimus: *nodding along in understanding* None taken.

Jazz: So wouldn't it make sense to slap some new armor and paint on him and have him go undercover gathering info while we prep the medics? I have just the mission for him!

Prowl: We are NOT sending our Prime behind enemy lines. What will our soldiers think? The loss of morale would be devastating.

Jazz: *kicking his legs up onto the table* Just say Prime is doing some spiritual stuff and spread some rumors about something big happening. Then leave Magnus in charge and no bot will question Prime being gone for a while.

Ultra Magnus: *scowling* Optimus has received no training for such a position and he would be left incredibly vulnerable should he be discovered.

Jazz: Basic integration and stealth training takes three weeks at most, and Prime was an Archivist when he was still a civilian. I'm sure he can figure out how to get the data without the additional training in that department.

Optimus: *nodding as if it is the simplest thing in the world* He has a pretty good point.

Everyone else: WHAT!?!?

And so against almost everyone's better judgement, Optimus was sent off to train with Jazz, and then a month later, refitted to suite his new position. The Decepticons were always looking for new warriors, so all Jazz had to do was reformat Optimus (a process that was not at all difficult considering that the Prime had no real armor so to speak of), give him some basic training to integrate into his new armor, and then send him off.

When Optimus left base he was a sight to behold. No longer did he look graceful or have regal nobility, he instead looked heavy duty, dangerous, and ready to kill. His frame had been reformatted to be boxier, sturdier, and less elegant, his optics having special visor glass put over them to give the impression of them being red to really sell it. His paint was black and gray, with accenting red on his windshields and on his new axe. And on top of it all, he had chosen a cold and calculating personality to use, one not so murderous as to be a threat to Megatron, but also not so intelligent as to be a danger to the higher ranks.

With a status beacon imbedded directly into his processing units to alert the Autobots to his welfare at all times and a set of directions to a meeting place should he gather any intel, Optimus made his way to a Decepticon outpost. His insignia had been scrubbed and so he was not shot on sight, instead being brought to the local Decepticon officer once he made his intention to join up clear. After a quick glance at his forged documents and a spar with a Vehicon, Optimus was accepted into the Decepticon ranks under the name Nemesis. And while not exactly his intention, after dealing with a great many internal issues in the Decepticon order, more so by accident and due to his slight OCD than anything else, he rose through the ranks.

He regularly brought Jazz any information he gathered and took great care to ensure that other dangerous Decepticons took the fall for his actions. It was... difficult for him to not allow his strong morals to impede his work, but he did what he could. He kept up the ruse that he was a cold calculating individual, but to ease his own spark he threw in a deep sense of brotherhood and comradery into his new personality. He helped his Decepticon comrades, eventually befriending a majority of the Vehicons, gaining their collective respect upon going out of his way and saving them numerous times. He became the emotional support bot for the younger Decepticons who started to doubt the cause and the older ones who suffered from the loss of friends and family (he always found a way to smuggle the truly good sparked ones out of the Decepticon order, sending them to the Autobots under his name). And when on the battlefield he made his engagements look like the most intense battles ever conceived, only ever holding the line but never gaining or losing territory for the Decepticons. It was perfect to maintain his position but never raise any serious suspicion.

Eventually he caught the optics of Starscream and his trine who admired him not for his (nonexistent) kill count, but for his loyalty, skill in battle, and brilliance in dealing with morale among the troops. With Starscream's favor, Nemesis rose past the lower ranks and found himself serving directly under the seeker despite not being a flight frame. He didn't understand, but for whatever reason, Starscream liked him and that suited Nemesis just fine. With time he even found himself liking the seeker after he came to understand that his arrogance was largely a defense mechanism. They became incredibly close in only a few short months as Nemesis saved Starscream from numerous punishments from Megatron. They only grew closer after the death of Starscream's trinemates, leaving Nemesis as the only mech Starscream was willing to rely upon. They became brothers of a sort, and that made Nemesis's position difficult.

Eventually the lines between Nemesis and Optimus began to blur. Nemesis became part of Optimus, giving the Prime a more cynical and analytical outlook, one based more on reality instead of hopes. And Optimus gave Nemesis the morality and the empathy needed to allow him to bond with those around him while not falling into their influence. The two personalities were set apart, but quickly began to bleed into one another. By the time Nemesis was given the order to return, he found himself reluctant. He had bonded with his Decepticon brethren and he, while not caring for their goals or at all liking their actions, found himself attached. He didn't want to abandon them, not when the Vehicons would be abused and Starscream would be left all alone. And so eventually, Nemesis made a choice.

Jazz: Good to see you again Prime! You've done excellent work! But we got the medics all ready for you now, so you don't need to hide out anymore!

Optimus/Nemesis: In regards to that topic... I do not wish to leave the Decepticons.

Jazz: *sputtering* w-what?!

Optimus/Nemesis: Do not mistake my words, I hold no love for Megatron, his inner circle, or anything they stand for... but there are innocent mecha suffering under his rule. I cannot leave them, they need me.

Jazz: But Prime! We need you too!

Optimus/Nemesis: I am well aware of that, and that is why I would like to propose a compromise.

Few were pleased with the development, but none could argue with the end results of Optimus's plan. He got the necessary repairs to return to his duties as Prime, but at the same time, he also got some special upgrades to allow him to return to his position as Nemesis. He spent half his time as Optimus, leading his Autobots, raising and training Bumblebee, and keeping up morale. But the other half of the time he was Nemesis, an officer serving directly under Air Commander Starscream and silently collecting data.

The excuse Optimus gave to continue living both his alternate lives was interesting to say the least. To the Autobots, when Optimus wasn't around, he was communing with Primus and recovering from the long term affects of his wounds. Bumblebee didn't question his Sire leaving, he was no sparkling by the time Optimus was initially damaged and he was fully capable of operating alone. So long as he got affection and could see Optimus semi-regularly, he was content. Optimus's inner circle were less happy about the arrangement, but the data they received and the near constant flow of new bots smuggled out of Decepticon ranks soothed their irritation. Of course Ratchet was the least happy but he managed by having the status beacon available for him to view Optimus's health at all times.

To the Decepticons, Nemesis dropped off the map sometimes and that was just a thing that happened. No Decepticon cared enough to bother him about it since the Vehicons never said anything to superior officers and he always came back with either energon or some interesting item. Nemesis wasn't important enough for Megatron to give a frag beyond pushing Starscream around more since his bodyguard wasn't present. And Soundwave while suspicious just decided to leave the issue alone since Nemesis's presence only did good things for morale and efficiency. Starscream was less than pleased and incredibly suspicious about Nemesis's frequent disappearances, but he also never said anything for fear of losing his one remaining friend. He knew something was up and that his close friend and brother in all but CNA was hiding a secret, but despite having the ability to pry and discover the truth, he never did so. Instead he played along with Nemesis's excuses and accepted the increased affection and care from Nemesis upon his return.

Optimus/Nemesis played his roles without much issue for much of the war... that was until the Allspark had to be sent away. At that point both factions were preparing to leave Cybertron and Optimus had no choice but to pick which life he was going to stick with. He knew what he had to choose in the end, he made peace with that fact long ago. But that didn't stop him from spending his last few months as Nemesis doing everything in his power to prepare many a failsafe and all sorts of hidden escape routes for the Vehicons to use without him there to get them out of trouble. He scrubbed sensitive information regarding his subordinates to keep them from being blackmailed. And he also went out of his way to spend time with the remaining Vehicons, Soundwave's cassettes (who had taken a liking to him over time), and of course, Starscream.

Every moment he could spare, Nemesis spent with Starscream. He became incredibly affectionate, showering his brother in love and giving him little gifts. Starscream was suspicious but accepted it as Nemesis dealing with the loss of the Allspark in his own way. Little did he know that Nemesis was quietly preparing for his "death" and attempting to ease his "passing" as much as possible. He even wrote out letters to various Vehicons, Soundwave's cassettes, and Starscream. He made several albums with photos he had taken of and with his Decepticon friends and comrades for them to find after his "death". And lastly he prepared the necessary evidence to make his "death" look like a suicide instead of anything else. He didn't want Starscream or any of his other loved ones growing bitter, no, he wanted them to be able to move on, so he made sure to specify that his "death" was not the fault of any bot in particular. But before Nemesis enacted his plan, he spoke with Starscream one last time.

Nemesis: Starscream... I want you to know that I have always seen you as a brother and friend. Your companionship has been invaluable to me, and I am glad to have spent all these vorns by your side.

Starscream: *raising his eyebrow in suspicion* And what brought all this flattery on? You aren't planning on defecting are you?

Nemesis: *shaking his helm* No, nothing like that... I just thought it was best that I tell you the truth of how I feel. With the Allspark gone and the war still raging, it felt appropriate to say before it is too late.

Starscream: You aren't the emotional type Nemesis. Is something wrong?

Nemesis: All sorts of things, but you need not worry yourself. I will handle it on my own.

Starscream: ... If you say so... but if you need me to come beat some bot for you, just give the word.

Nemesis: Of course Starscream...

Nemesis quietly left later that same day. He purposefully left tracks leading toward a quiet location and set up the scene. A lifeless protoform made to look like him set up with a blade through its spark chamber. Energon was injected into the protoform to make it pour out of the wounds and Optimus left the body with a note that would seem convincing. He did not linger and cried silently in his quarters on the Ark when the cameras he set up around the body picked up Starscream's reaction. He was unable to watch for long as Starscream tenderly cradled the protoform with tears streaming from his optics.

Optimus moved on and did not look back, locking away the entirety of the personality he developed to be Nemesis and throwing himself into his work to try and ease the pain of knowing he abandoned so many mecha. He focused all his attention on the war effort and fleeing Cybertron, doing everything he could to not think about all he lost. But still he found himself going to Ratchet, the only other mech left who knew what he did to cry and pour out all his woes. He hated doing it, he hated having to burden Ratchet, but he couldn't help it. He missed ST3V3 the careless Vehicon and his brethren, he yearned for a chance to play cards with the cassettes, and he longed to comfort Starscream as he once did. Not even giving all his attention to Bumblebee and the team eased the pain entirely.

But Optimus has always been good at hiding his emotions, and so with time and after his arrival to earth with his team, he looked and acted as thought nothing was wrong. He fought on the battlefield as he always did, but after so many centuries of making his fighting far more extravagant than necessary, he learned to make his blows seem far more vicious than they actually were. He never cut down a Vehicon with the intent to kill them, only to inflict minor damage. And when Starscream came to battle, Optimus could never bring himself to harm the seeker in any significant manner and often left combat to the rest of his team. It hurt more than he cared to admit having to interact with his brother in all but CNA and have the seeker believe him to be dead.

He could see the pain in Starscream's optics, he could feel the sorrow. He knew Starscream well enough to know that his viciousness and manipulative behavior stemmed from his loneliness, only serving to make Optimus feel worse. Still he continued on, never daring to linger on his old attachment for long and only ever offering the Decepticons aside from Megatron and Soundwave the opportunity to flee when possible as his gift to them. All the anger he felt toward having to be torn away from his family on the nemesis he directed at Megatron instead.

No one save Ratchet knew of Optimus's time as Nemesis. No one needed to know. But when Megatron fell further into his madness and began openly hurting his followers, Optimus couldn't stand it. And for the first time since he left, Nemesis took control. His violence increased exponentially, and without any remorse he fought with the intent to tear Megatron limb from limb. His fighting style shifted and Nemesis took the place of Optimus Prime, standing up to protect Starscream and his Vehicons from Megatron in the middle of battle.

Nemesis/Optimus: *throwing Megatron away in rage* ENOUGH!

Ratchet: Optimus what are you doing!?

Nemesis/Optimus: *pointing at Megatron with his axe while speaking in an eerily cold tone* Touch him again and I will end you. I have no tolerance toward those who would harm my brothers.

Starscream: *looking up at Optimus from his place on the ground in mixed confusion, awe, and fear* Brothers?!?

It was never explicitly made clear, but as it happened again and again, slowly the puzzle began to fit together. Eventually both Autobots and Decepticons who were unaware came to put Nemesis and Optimus Prime together.

[jacquesthepigeon]

Yeah, I've seen it outside ML before. It really just is a manifestation of frustration. People transfer their gut-feeling that something is *wrong* with the narrative only the character most-fluffed by the narrative.

It's not good, because it muddles the real issues at play and puts fans at each other's throats who would otherwise be on the same page about a lot of things.

The inverse is just as disheartening to behold. Those that twist themselves into knots justifying the narrative and coming up with horrifyingly fascinating logic-webs to explain why thing X is Right(tm) and Good(tm)

Like to example the obvious: S5 finalé, Marinette/Ladybug witholding the truth from Adrien/chat. The whole 'Oh it's a good thing he would be too hurt etc etc.'

No, folks, no. Hiding something from your significant other not just related to his family but also their own agency/life is toxic AF. Full Stop. No hedging.

Now, is it something I could realistically see a Season 5 Marinette who has gone through all that doing, with good intentions? Yes! And it'd be a great character building plotline when she realizes her mistakes, corrects it, and becomes a better person. That's storytelling. That's character growth. That's a solid protagonist arc.

Do I expect ML to actually touch on this at all? No. It's most likely just going to be framed as Right(tm) and Good(tm) again. I can growl at the messed up values of the creator for including something like that. A lot of fooks will just look at the unresolved problem and say 'See?! Marinette is toxic!!!!'

It's exhausting.

Also the internalized/overt bigotry ppl have in their brains

[remedyturtles]

death wish facts/stats

entirely complied for my own amusement lol

first of all, this is how long i was actually working on death wish, saved in 5k increments:

now i didn't track my stats for the whole time but here's an example of how much that translates to daily writing. this is some of july:

here's the final count from my word doc. i do my final edit in the ao3 browser so i guess some got cut:

here's the stats of my planning doc:

whatever you're imagining my planning doc to look like, it's probably not that. it's kinda a huge mess, actually. i've shuffled things around constantly bc i boot the 'used' plot points into a giant pile and they get all messed up. it's a shame i didn't save more versions of this honestly bc it probably would've been fascinating. behold the inside of my brain:

to go even further back, mid-may i was left alone at work for like two hours to do a course and ended up scribbling the FIRST ideas i had for death wish on a piece of paper. whited out are unused/irrelevant things:

wild to me to realize which of those lines were literally from my absolute first thoughts of this fic LMAO

at one point i had to track how many days it had been in-story since the invasion bc i lost count. by the end of the fic i believe it had been 25 days, with 10 days at the beginning of leo being not-present. so 155k for 15 days hahahahahaha

i made a death wish playlist at one point and listened to it non-stop while writing. here it is:

it's all so incredibly loud and rosyln were on repeat for the iconic chapter 29 and it makes me so emotional

however then for chapter 30 for some reason my brain only wanted the kim possible theme song on repeat. you know how it is.

when i first decided on most plot points and began writing i said to someone it would probably be like 100-150k. i was right, though i'm surprised to be on the top end for sure. i would not expect this again, it was definitely a perfect storm. i normally do like ~40-80k.

i knew exactly how the fic would end before i wrote a single word. as much as i love and there is a place for wish fulfillment (eg future!donnie gets to come back, sensei gets his own body) my thing was that i knew people reading it would relate to the story. and i want to have... hopeful realism? like, if you have experienced grief and you related to sensei, i don't want to say 'haha your loved ones are actually alive!!!' ... i want to say, bad things happen, you will find other reasons to live. and for anyone who related to sensei and leo's situation (eg DID) i felt like magically giving sensei a body wouldn't be fair, bc that won't happen. instead they can work together and get through. if that makes sense LMAO

i have three side fics planned atm. two of them will be probably 2-5k each, the third will be like... idk. 15k? i haven't started yet i promise i'm still taking a rest hahahaha

thanks for reading hah

[thegeminisage]

ok, it's star trek update time. tonight we watched ds9's "playing god" and tng's "eye of the beholder."

playing god (ds9):

i'm trying. SO SO SO HARD to get into dax and it's just not working

out of the 3 dax episodes we've had so far this one included two of them have been mid and one of them was just slightly better than average mostly for the questions it prompted in my mind palace, not necessarily the questions asked by the episode itself

in s1 dax had basically no personality, but in s2 when she does have a personality it seems to be a different one every time. like in one episode she was very prissy and in others she's just one of the guys! and then at other times she reverts to this very buttoned up bordering on bland science officer from s1 again

and then every once in awhile she'll be like oh yeah i LOVE sex i LOVE being a super hot woman who everyone wants to FUCK!!! i can get whatever i want with my SEX APPEAL even though my hair is WEIRDLY SHAPED. and look i am so happy for her and she should literally get some but it borders on the kind of misogyny that starts genuinely annoying me. it is kind of like that anime trope where the teen boy gets put into a body with tits and he can't stop messing with them. its like. idk reducing her to a body, or reducing her to jadzia's body, which dax is taking for a ride to feel hot and fuckable?? it's very blurry what's jadzia and what's dax

WHICH is the most fascinating part of dax, which is where the trill ends and the symbiant or however you spell it begins, but we don't get into that quite as much as i'd like

anyway i guess a shifting personality is a natural result of living 7 lifetimes but it doesnt FEEL like thats why theyre doing it, it FEELS like they just cant seem to keep her consistent

that said. while i did not like this episode or this little guy dax was showing around i DID like the implication that curzon was actually a huge fucking asshole. i love that he can be loved by many people but was still an asshole. it's complex. and now one of the people he abused (?) or at least was an asshole to is now. his successor. IT'S COMPLEX!!! what are he and jadzia to each other...imagine meeting curzon dax and then just becoming him. that's wild. so, points for that! genuinely. it just feels like the trill thing is fascinating because of trills and not because of jadzia dax in particular. i'm gonna keep trying to like her. maybe once she starts banging worf things will be different

eye of the beholder (tng):

ohhhh i hated this one so much (suicide cw for this one lol)

firstly, i don't trust tng to handle the subject of suicide any more than i trust them to handle multiple personalities, but they tried to very special episode it anyway. all of them were so shocked at the very THOUGHT of it i guess because they eliminated all mental illness in tos?? but it was so funny in the rage-inducing way like "maybe he needed to think of the obstacles in his life as challenges to overcome!" come on.

also lmao picard like ive never had to report a suicide before...........girl you have literally told 2 people to kill themselves

and then they dropped the very special episode plot halfway through for this psychic mystery...

here's the thing. if everyone had been searching for a REASON someone who seemed to be perfectly happy would do this, and in the end the answer was just "nothing was going on, he was just hiding a lot of pain, even if we don't want to believe that" that would have been a STELLAR gutpunch. but there literally was foul play involved

AND NOT ONLY THAT! BUT THEY FAKED ME OUT WITH WORF E DEANNA

my ONLY consolation was that they were finally kissing and then later fucking but NO!!!! all a dream

i was already conflicted because deanna e worf means a temporary breakup from deanna e riker but i wanted it anyway and i was so happy when they gave it to me and then they KILLED IT? maybe the actors hated it because it fucking sucked

like, no wonder everybody let deanna walk around unsupervised when there was a high suicide danger. she was dreaming. no one in real life would ever allow this

i wish also that creepy men would stop coming to deanna's quarters to be creepy to her

final note: was told the creepy man was in spn. clocked him as alistair almost immediately. faceblind WHO

TOMORROW: ds9's "prophet and loss" and tng's "genesis" (dread).

[writing-and-art]

#13

context: dazai, chuuya, teenagers and a poorly thought out study. (its just dazai being smitten, don't take this seriously. hes in denial)

-

Notes on Nakahara Chuuya - by Dazai Osamu

The slug is o’ so painfully human- it disgusts me how blind he is to it.

The first time Dazai had met Chuuya, he had been contemplating whether to try hanging himself again. The plans had been literally kicked from his brain with all the subtlety and finesse of one Chuuya Nakahara- which is to say, none.

Like most, Dazai had heard of soulmates. He’d read all the tropes- red strings, telepathy, timers, and colours exploding when eyes meet. Whilst he found the concept fascinating, he firmly believed it to be untrue. It was ludicrous- the idea of someone understanding you on such a visceral level; as if you were made for each other.

Lo and behold, enter: Chuuya Nakahara, science experiment extraordinaire and other half of Soukoku.

Dazai didn’t believe in such whimsical things like soulmates; he believed in Chuuya though. Chuuya, and the colours he bought with him.

“You ought to drink more milk,” Dazai told him, and held back a grunt when kicked in the face.

And that was how it started.

Then came Rimbaud, and then Verlaine. It was a shitshow. Chuuya saw his friends die. Chuuya saw his clone die. Chuuya got tortured. Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya.

Despite his near perfect memory, Dazai, for the death of him, wouldn’t be able to recall what he had said to Chuuya in regards to the chance of finding out his humanity disappearing. All he remembered was the blue and brown of his eyes- eerily vivid, almost glowing, as if the singularity powering him was shining through.

‘Eyes are the window to ones soul,’ Dazai had once read. He still stood by it years later, when he was clad in brown and missing a few bandages.

Ever the bleeding heart, not fighting wasn’t even a choice. Dazai didn't make it a habit to underestimate people, but Chuuya had always gone above and beyond.

Roaring winds, trees ripped out from the ground, and death. It was enchanting, in a distant, detached sort of way. Oh, it was all very dramatic of course. Ever benevolent, Dazai figured he would refrain from mocking the other, just this once.

Two singularities, beings of mass destruction and very little else.

Throughout it all: Chuuya.

Dazai had caught him. The shorter boy’s mangled and grotesque wings had disappeared in a flash of blue and the red lines marring his body faded, leaving blood and broken bones behind in its wake. 

How anti-climatic, he had mused, holding the shorter’s body in a way that didn’t aggravate his wounds.

Dazai wasn’t blind, he could see parallels. He also wasn’t an idiot, and figured that whatever happened to Soukoku, Dazai do something as inane as turning himself into a singularity. No, they would die together.

Later, sitting beside a certain someone’s bedside and flipping through a book without absorbing much of anything, Dazai would ponder the limits of humans. It would be a very entertaining train of thought, full of witty comments made by himself, to himself. That would be later, of course. 

In the face of the aftermath and the responsibilities that came with it, Dazai was content to dump his workload onto Hirotsu and entertain himself with hearing the beating heart of his much detested partner, annoying him in his sleep by fiddling with the other’s hand and messing up his hair.

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[n0sewise]

hi! 1 & 12 for choose violence game, if its okay to ask

hi, yes it's totally okay to ask!

1. Oh god, it could be any of them, honestly. I see a lot of UwU Killua, but also there's a ton of really great Killua too. I'm going with Gon since we never get to hear his inner thoughts. There's a tendency in fandom to go really extreme with him either as The Sweetest Most Innocent Boy In The World or Selfish 8ft Monster Who Hurt Killua. I don't see him as either, and even in my own writing I've had people misinterpret him as being dumb for the sake of it, or an alpha bro type when in reality, he's got the mother (father?) of all abandonment issues. This is the kid that went out to see what's so great about smoking bc his dad left to get a pack of cigarettes(someone funnier than me made this comparison and i forget who). Gon is Complex. His morality is a little weird. He loses his arms like it's a hobby. Anyway. Yeah, Gon is my pick for 1.

12. Illumiiiiii. I love Illumi, but this won't be in defense of him (I don't even think he's unpopular). Something about him makes my brain go brrrr. He is The Worst and here is why I love him:

1) a fantastic villain. We don't even know who he is until his big reveal in the exam arc when we find out Why Gittarackur has been in disguise this entire time. He's got those big, empty shark eyes. He's an assassin and yet he walks around in weird, green, puffy sleeved outfits when it would clearly be more practical to dress in literally any other way. He hardly emotes until He Does, at which point he becomes Terrifying to behold.

2) he's the kid that Silva and Kikyo fucked up first. Look, that Speaks To Me as an only child gifted kid burnout. Illumi is their firstborn, but he's not the heir, and he's Very Good at what he does. Was he born with the right temperament, or was it beaten out of him? We don't get that info, but I think it's fucking fascinating, and even more so when you consider that Milluki must have been the overcorrection of whatever was done to Illumi to make him the way he is. Was there any point where they looked at this perfect assassin and were like, "...we might have messed him up a little" ? Was he told to have a hand in Killua's upbringing, or did he take that on by choice? The Implications of his childhood and that of the rest of the Zoldycks are some of the most interesting in the series to me.

3) he's a hypocrite! He's delusional! Mr. Assassins Don't Have Friends went and got engaged to a magician clown? Illumi is so delulu for his entire conversation with Hisoka where he assumes he is the person Killua loves most and it makes me choke on my coffee every single time. He's removed from reality, which is a charming and horrifying trait to have, and it has endless au potential.

So far I've only written him as The Worst Person Killua Knows, but can you imagine au Illumi as the most embarrassing older brother? Illumi showing up while Killua has Gon over after school and thinking he killed it because he just dabbed like the kids do, and Killua is hoping the ground will open up and swallow him bc his big brother Did Not just do that in front of his crush? Illumi bringing his awful, creepy boyfriend to An Important Zoldyck Function and not understanding (or caring) when they manage to clear the room because their combined vibes are just too rancid?

I love Illumi. I don't want to see him succeed. I do not think he has a healthy relationship with any of his siblings. He is Not a good person in the series, and it makes him so fun to watch. Hisoka makes my skin crawl, but I could watch 8 hours of Illumi failing at human interaction.

This came out longer than I intended, whoops. Thanks for the ask!

[welcometojurassicparker]

In the Arms of the Father.

A 1000+ word short story about Lore and Arik Soong (who somehow managed to time travel to the 24th century). Bonus: B-4 mention.

The desultory disposition incarcerating the android in some sort of feedback loop, caused him to pace restlessly back and forth in front of the tall window. At irregular intervals, he became stationary and tossed a melancholy look at the view, watching the sun dip behind the precipitous mountain ridges which he was so keen on defying. In all honesty, he wasn’t convinced that the grounds of the android’s affinity for the mountains lay solely with his fascination for the sublime — he was cognisant of Lore’s episodic indulgences during which he’d entomb himself in layers of Romantic poetry. Lore was constantly at war with himself, his emotions, his traumas... And although he seldom — if ever — divulged anything about his past, his vindictive endeavours, his liaison with the Crystalline Entity, and his deliberate act of betrayal — if one could call it that —, he knew better. The android had grown attached to the mountains, because they were a sanctuary where he could practise his habitual propensity of dissociation without anyone reproaching him; he could wallow in his sorrows without anyone interrupting him…

    Quietly, Arik regarded the boy; Lore seemed exceptionally disquieted this late afternoon; his broad shoulders were taut with tension, his dark, customarily slicked back hair dishevelled, as if his slender fingers had careened through it in an apprehensive, almost obsessive, kind of way. Strands of brown decorated his iridescent forehead — a hairstyle bearing a slight semblance to his, apart from the fact that his was silver instead of auburn. His eyes, phosphorescent in the dusk-drenched room, were imbued with an emotion that could only be identified as the onset of a panic attack.

    The last several days, he’d noticed that Lore had grown more aloof, more unsociable, sequestering himself from the others, preferring solitude over company — in Lore’s case, not the best remedy to overcome psychological afflictions and placate wayward emotions. Arik had tried to reach out to the boy, more than once, but thus far, his attempts had been futile; Lore was distrustful of humans — and justifiably so. He’d allowed himself to be bricked in inside an impenetrable fortress constructed of his own misery. It was truly a sorry sight to behold; the android had so much potential… If only he was willing — if only he’d try to let Soong help him…

    Lore hadn’t discerned him yet, standing, idling in the opening of the door, observing him in a similar way an exobiologist would clandestinely observe intelligent extra-terrestrial lifeforms — as he knew Starfleet did… And they called his experiments unethical. No, intruding on other people’s privacy — whether they had been informed of it in advance or not — was morally correct… However, the fact that the android appeared so thoroughly preoccupied with his own thought processes, so much so that his sensors hadn’t alerted him of Arik’s arrival, was cause for concern. The poor boy was utterly lost, and nothing could hoist him out of the well he’d tumbled into.

    Carefully, as not to startle the android and send him into a frenzy of agony, Arik rapped his knuckles on the door, a gentle noise, unobtrusive — this action garnered Lore’s attention instantaneously. ‘What?!’ he growled aggressively, clearly Arik had caught him at a bad time.

    Arik didn’t let Lore’s tone of belligerence deter him, and simply offered him a lopsided smile.

    ‘Oh nothing,’ he said unperturbed, his dark eyebrows ascending. ‘I was merely wondering if you’d care to keep me and your brother company — Bee wants to try roasting s’mores, in the traditional fashion, but I don’t want a repetition of last time, when he ate everything and clogged up his entire digestive tract,’ he reminded Lore, who had initiated a self-induced glaring contest. ‘The mess afterwards was horrendous. So, I need your help. You comin’?’

    He questioned Lore had even contemplated his proposal, because the answer was distributed before he’d properly finished his sentence.

    ‘No,’ he spat.

    Lore’s laconic state was another reason for concern… Usually he was talkative, bordering on the dramatic, yes, but talkative…

    ‘You’re being particularly monosyllabic today, Lore — what’s wrong?’ he asked, approaching the android — a bold move, for he wouldn’t be the first Soong to suffer fatal injuries at his hands.

    A momentary silence ensued.

    He could tell the android was conflicted, indecisive; he was fighting an internal, an imaginary adversary that withheld him from, prohibited him from talking to him. Lore’s pale lips parted and for an ephemeral moment his yellow eyes scintillated with something that he would’ve interpreted as a distress call, but at the very last second, Lore changed his mind, refurbished that façade of irrepressible, ineradicable anger, and closed his mouth again.

    ‘No, just leave me alone.’

    Arik heaved a soft sigh, shrugging his shoulders insouciantly, and yielded to the android’s request.

    ‘OK. Goodbye, then.’

    Soong span around and headed for the door, but he’d barely traversed halfway across the room when an insecure stammer disrupted the silence.

    ‘W-wait.’ His words a plea rather than a demand.

    He stopped dead in his tracks, a delicate smile of relief tugged at the corners of his mouth. Slowly, the turned around to face the android, his heart shattering at the dismal state he was in. For the first time, Lore looked forlorn, frail; he seemed to diminish in size, quivered under the weight, the burden, that had bedevilled him, that had haunted him, tormented him since his first day of activation. And now? it had finally compromised him.

    ‘Would you… like to talk about it?’ Arik hazarded.

    With a feeble roll of his drooping shoulders, Lore averted his gaze, and the subsequent silence that permeated between them spoke volumes — a feat words never, not in this lifetime, not in a million years, not ever, could have accomplished. The android had finally collapsed, capitulated to the ungovernable inundation, the onslaught of incandescent emotions that no longer tolerated being oppressed by his tyrannical rule.

    His light brows puckered in an attempt to rein in his emotions, but he’d already sanctioned them to effervesce, to nip air at the surface of the bottomless ocean he’d had been drowning in for far too long. Gingerly, a sinewy streak of yellow trickled down his cheek, an image that made Arik’s features distort with painful compassion. He could tell the android was still holding back, he loathed feeling weak — who didn’t?

    ‘C’mere, Lore,’ he said, inviting Lore to seek consolation in his arms.

    Surprisingly enough, a reiteration of his invitation was not required; the android launched himself into Arik’s embrace at a staggering rate and clung to him like a small child — like Udar… Compunction fused with irrevocable sorrow overwhelmed him, not only for his Augments — regardless of what they’d done —, but also for Lore. Especially for Lore. He wrapped his arms firmly around the android. The boy buried his face into his chest and let out the most desolate and miserable cry he’d ever perceived. Tears welled up in his own eyes, and he closed them.

    Incontrollable convulsions rocked Lore’s entire body as he wept — no — wailed; his hands trembled incessantly has he clutched on to the back of Arik’s shirt. In turn, Arik rubbed the android’s back comfortingly with his right hand, while kneading the nape of Lore’s neck with his left. His heart ached for the android, but at least this was the first step in a long process of rehabilitation…

[lovewithoregrets]

Falling Chapter 1: TeamUp

Prologue

Levi leaned against the brick wall, as he sat on the ground, drinking. The coolness felt good on his back. He took another swig from his beer. It was late. He had sent the scouts to bed and now, now he could be alone with his thoughts. But his thoughts were a tangled mess. He didn’t know if he was going to put his fist through a wall or break down and cry. He wanted to punch Erwin’s stupid face. Maybe I should just break his legs he thought. At least then he couldn’t throw his life away like this. Stupid bastard. Stupid, selfish- 

His drunken fuming was cut short by the sound of familiar voices. It was Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. What are the brats still doing up? Fuck it, I can’t be bothered. He leaned his head against the wall and tried to shut them out. They sounded so damn happy. How could these brats be happy when they were about to embark on such a dangerous mission? Didn’t they know Erwin was putting his life on the line for no good reason? What was there to be happy about? Instead of passing, the three seemed to have sat on the steps, reflecting on life the way kids do when they think they’re all grown up. Levi didn’t care. No tonight. Eren was opining about the power of friendship and how they were stronger together. God this brat thinks he knows everything sometimes. Petra taught him about all that shit and now he's passing it off like it’s his own idea to impress his girlfriend. What a joke. He stopped listening after that. He let himself get lost in his head for a moment before: 

Alright then!” he heard Armin exclaim “Let’s start by finding the sea! I can tell you still don’t think it’s real, Eren. You’ll see, it does exist!” 

“Heh, ok fine. I guess we’ll have to check it out then.” was Eren’s humoring reply.  

Levi heard Armin’s over-excited voice continuing to try to convince his friend that they would explore the outside world and find a bunch of places that Levi had never heard of. It ended with Eren promising to go find the sea. Or something like that. The kids seemed to move on after that and Levi was left with their conversation ringing in his ears. 

God damn these stupid brats and their stupid dreams. God damn everyone and their stupid dreams. He drained his beer and threw his mug against the wall across from him. And God damn you, Erwin Smith.  

Chapter 1

Squad Leader Erwin Smith looked out his office window. The day was beautiful, and he wished he could be away from all the paperwork piled upon his desk. For all his seriousness, Erwin often longed for a world without Titans, responsibilities, and god damned paperwork on days like today. This will all be worth it someday, he told himself with a sigh.  

Watching the activity outside idly, a figure caught his eye. Crossing his view outside was a group of scouts-mainly the new recruits-and among them was... 

Levi 

Erwin paused with his eyes transfixed on the recruit. It had been 2 weeks since that day. 2 weeks since Levi had stared him down with pain and anger in his face. 2 weeks since Erwin had asked Levi to help him save humanity. 2 weeks since Levi joined the cause. From the beginning, the thug had fascinated Erwin. A self-taught ODM user? He didn’t think it was possible. But there, right in front of him was a man not only using the gear but using it expertly. It was a wonderous sight to behold. Since then, Levi had only proved himself more talented than anyone-including Erwin-could have imagined. When he had taken out those titans on that day, everyone had begun to treat him with a great deal more respect. But respect did not translate to trust and several still harbored misgivings of the former criminal-among them their commander. Sure, Shadis respected Levi’s abilities, but he was not sold on Erwin’s “pet project” as he called it. It was fine in the beginning. The commander had been one of Erwin’s most vocal supporters before the expedition. Since that day, however, things had changed.  

“The man is a liability, and no amount of titan killings will convince me otherwise!” the commander had stated earlier that day.  

“But sir-” Erwin tried to interject. 

“You made a bet and for now it’s paying off. I’ll grant you that. But he’s already shown that he doesn’t work in a team. He’s a liability and I refuse to force him on my squad leaders any longer!”  

“Who asked for this?” Erwin questioned.  

“Does it matter?” Shadis shot back. “The other squad leaders have complained that he is difficult to work with and has problems following orders. If my men can’t trust his sorry ass, then that’s all I need to know. He cost me a good Squad Leader and I don’t want to lose anymore.” 

Erwin had calculated his next moves carefully. H was not fully convinced that this wasn’t coming from higher up.  

“I’ll take him” Erwin said firmly. 

“You have other duties to attend to, Squad Leader.”  

“Let him join my squad. I’ll keep an eye on him. The soldiers in my squad trust me enough to trust Levi. Or at least they will have to.”  

“We agreed that the Underground recruits would be handled by others. You’re too close to this to be objective. He will walk all over you and you will let him because he’s talented and you want your plan to work.” 

“With all due respect Sir, I don’t think I am the only one who cannot be objective in this situation.” Erwin knew he was taking a risk, but he also knew that it was his only shot.  

“You forget yourself, Erwin.” Shadis shot back, a dangerous look in his eye.  

“Begging your pardon Commander but I don’t think I am.”  

“And who do you think you are coming in here and telling me how objective I am being? You are a brilliant man, Erwin. I have trusted you with more than I would trust anyone else under me with and you have handled it admirably. Without you, we wouldn’t even be here. However, you’re not infallible. Levi is a blind spot for you. Anyone can see that.” Shadis pointed out.  

“Sir, we need men. Our people are dying with every expedition, and we are losing the trust of the people as well as those who are funding us. Levi is a lone wolf I will grant you that, but he is capable of caring for his comrades and working with others. And you and I both know that he is the best natural-born soldier we have ever seen in our ranks.” 

“And if he doesn’t improve? What then? Hmm?” Shadis crossed his arms in front of his body. “No matter how talented he is, if he keeps getting people killed because he can’t be a teammate, it counts for nothing.” 

“So? We lose more soldiers. And possibly the best soldier we will ever have.” Erwin said matter-of-factly. “Since when has sending people out to their deaths been a problem for you, Commander?” He emphasized the last word pointedly and drew his already imposing figure up to its full height.  

Shadis sighed and looked Erwin dead in the eye. “Fine. He’s your responsibility from now on. But if he becomes a liability and scouts lose their lives because of him, it’s on you, Erwin.”  

“Thank you, Sir.” Erwin nodded and walked to the door of the commander's office.  

“Erwin?” 

“Yes Sir?” Erwin paused with his hand on the doorknob.  

“I want this to work just as much as you do. Your plan is a good one. I just hope it pays off.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

And with that, he had left the commander’s office. He couldn’t help but feel a little excited as he left. He had wanted Levi from day one. Shadis’ excuse for not allowing it up until now was weak and Erwin knew it was only a matter of waiting it out to get what he wanted. The commander was a proud man and Erwin had learned over the years to push only at the right times.  

Erwin smiled to himself as he turned back to his work. He would tell Levi personally later, when he got the chance. He was thrilled at the thought of working up close with this extraordinary man. Where others saw a common criminal from the Underground, Erwin saw someone who gave him hope for the future. He was almost superhuman.  

Still, Erwin pondered, does he resent me for making him join the Scouts? He had tried to shrug off this thought for some time now, but it persisted. Erwin had made plenty of people resent him and he knew it. He had never cared before now. But Levi was different. He needed Levi to not hate him. He couldn’t bear the thought of Levi thinking badly of him. He told himself that it was just because of the circumstances of their meeting, but he knew he was lying to himself.  

The moon was bright, and the night sky was clear. It was still early enough in the year that the evenings brought a chill. Levi sat on his rooftop perch as he usually did in the evenings. Out here, he felt closer to Furlan and Isabel. 

It had been 2 weeks since that awful day. 2 weeks since he came face-to-face with true evil. 2 weeks since his world turned upside down. 2 weeks since the only one who had kept him from falling was the one person he had wanted dead more than anything in that moment. Funny how fast things change. They’d laugh if they could see me now. They wouldn’t be able to believe that I actually want to work for the Scouts. Or that I would want to save humanity. Levi could still hear Isabel’s giggle. He knew she would giggle if he could tell her what had happened since that day. What he wouldn’t give to hear her call him Bro one more time. It had annoyed him so much before but now... 

He was brought out of his thoughts by a familiar voice.  

“Ah Levi, there you are.”  

Levi turned to see the imposing figure of Squad Leader Erwin. Levi’s breath caught in his throat unexpectedly at the sight. What were these sudden nerves? 

“Sir.” Levi replied casually. 

“May I join you?” Erwin sat down beside Levi who nodded. “I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to speak to you about something important.”  

“Oh yeah?” Levi’s pulse quickened and he didn’t know why.   

“Yes. I spoke to the commander today and I have convinced him to let you join my squad.” Erwin began trying to read Levi’s face. It was still tough to read him.  

“Guess It’s my lucky day.” Levi said dryly.  

“The thing is, if you’re going to be on my team, I need to know that you trust me implicitly. I can’t have soldiers who can’t follow orders.” Erwin paused. “So, I need to ask you, do you resent me for bringing you into the scouts? I wouldn’t blame you if you did”   

Levi was taken aback by the question. No one had asked him his feelings on, well, anything. He did what needed doing and people either hated him or thanked him for it-usually the former. He squinted at Erwin trying to read his stoic face. It was as earnest as that day in the rain. This wasn’t a power trip. The squad leader wanted to know.  

“What happened to no regrets?” Levi questioned, keeping a close eye on Erwin’s expression.  

Erwin bowed his head with a smile. “Hmh, well, I don’t regret making you join us if that’s what you’re asking. I think you are a brilliant fighter, and I have said that from the beginning. But that doesn't mean you feel the same.”  

“What does it matter what I feel?” Levi shot back. 

“I maters to me.” Erwin replied firmly.  

“Well, I can’t argue against that stellar logic I suppose.” Levi replied with a sarcastic chuckle. He paused for a moment, looking out over the wide-open spaces below. Do I resent him? He pondered. He turned his gaze back toward the expectant Erwin. Those eyes. Those damn blue eyes. Why do they make me feel so at home? Why do I feel like I can trust him? I’ve never trusted anyone like that.  

“No, I don’t resent you.” He said finally. Erwin looked relieved. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t later.”  

“I am sure that I will have earned it” Erwin replied graciously with a smile and a nod.  

“Tsk” 

They sat in thoughtful silence for some time before Ewin turned to address Levi again.  

“Levi, I think that you and I can do great things together. You are just the soldier we need in this fight for humanity, and I will be honored to fight with you.”  

For the second time that night Levi was surprised at this man’s earnestness. His eyes widened ever so slightly. Erwin's keen eye caught the look. He held out his hand to Levi and said:  

“What do you say Levi? Will you follow me to hell?” 

Levi took his hand in a firm shake. 

“I will, Sir. I’m going there anyway.” 

“Good.” He stood up and turned to go back inside. “Oh, and Levi?” 

“Yes Sir?” 

“Drop this ‘Sir’ nonsense. Just call me Erwin.” 

“Sure thing Erwin.” Levi fake saluted him. 

Erwin smiled and nodded.  

“Good night, Levi.”  

“Good night, Erwin.” 

The night wore on and Levi remained watching it pass, sleepless as ever. But this time he wasn’t fighting personal demons. He played the conversation over in his head, recalling every minute detail of Erwin’s expressions. An excitement, no, giddiness welled up inside him. He tried to push it away. You’re being stupid, Levi, he told himself. He just asked you to join his squad, that’s all. He’s probably just concerned because he blackmailed me into it in the first place. And yet, thoughts that he knew were pointless simmered in the back of his mind, lighting a spark of excitement in him.  

He shook his head at his own foolishness. What a damn idiot you are, Levi 

[talenlee]

Story Pile: Christine

Christine is a 1983 horror novel and movie about Stephen King’s ongoing fascination with What If A Thing Was Evil. Having done clowns and spiders and dogs and being alone with your wife, Christine wants to bring this powerful critical tool to bear on the question of What if A Car Was Evil? Would That Be Fucked Up Or What?

Set in the 1970s the story –

The story –

Look I’m going to spoil some things, so like, spoiler warning.

The story of Christine is— that is, Christine the movie — simple. There is this car, you see, and it’s evil. In a series of completely unsurprising events, where nothing transpires that should surprise you, a character acquires this evil car, and the car starts doing evil things. The sequence of events is that a character who is bullied acquires the car, then becomes focused on the car, then the car starts killing people. The car’s owner is confronted, decides they’re okay with it, the car is stopped by their friends, and in the process, the owner dies.

Christine as a story is, essentially, a Simpsons Treehouse of Horror segment. If you’re used to horror media being built around an elaborate twist or some deep insight, it isn’t that kind of thing and I don’t think it’s ever trying to be. This isn’t about why or how a car could be an evil car, but much more about the very tangible question of ‘what if there was an evil car.’

It isn’t like I wasn’t having fun watching this movie. It wasn’t even that I was expecting there to be more to it. It’s only when I was reconstructing the movie’s timeline for this writeup that I realised how simple a story the movie is. If there’s a twist anywhere in it, it’s out of expectations I don’t have because I’m used to the way this kind of story is structured. Behold, a nerd, and that nerd is isolated, and responds by falling into something dangerous, and that something dangerous will destroy him, except along the way it will also destroy a lot of other people who suck as well.

I don’t know if I just don’t get Stephen King’s work, really. I don’t know if Christine really counts as being a Stephen King movie of course; he wrote the book, but as with all movies-of-books, there’s layers of interpretation. That’s where the ideas that seem missing in the movie get explored. In the story presented in this movie, I think it’s trying to draw you along the line of the nerd’s experience. You start out oppresed, then presented with a thing that changes that, focus on the change, try something different and then the change makes your life better by defending you from violence (through violence!).

The story takes you a place you probably want to go (where the very bad people in his life are punished) and then goes even further (where his friends are injured). I didn’t find this particularly relatable, because this nerd has a pretty understandable sucky experience of high school and is surrounded by people telling him to change or improve when he’s… like… seventeen. He’s enduring one of the least fun parts of his life and nobody’s defending him from the bullying by people with knives who should… and then the story escalates, through the narrative device of a haunted evil magic car.

I’m led to understand that in the book, Christine (the car) is haunted by the ghost of the previous owner, and this ghost seems to possess our nerdy protagonist. Christine is still a mystery, but the previous owner is more of a cultist engaging with the cursed car. That’s not part of the movie, though — in fact it kind of doesn’t work with the movie, because the role of that character isn’t in the movie. That role is instead handed to his brother — the brother who is also responsible for the same lines of dialogue that nerd winds up quoting, invoking the idea that he’s somehow becoming like that owner, don’t come from that owner.

It reminds me a lot of, and I swear I’m not messing with you, Biblical Harmonisation.

If you engage much with Biblical apologetics, which is the social practice of publically making up excuses for flaws in a human made text, you’ll encounter a common trend in how criticisms are restructured. When you present a series of contradictions in the text, like where one character is said to do something and in a different book that same thing is done by another character, you’ll often get a response that involves constructing a fictional thread of narrative that can make the two different accounts compatible.

It doesn’t matter how unlikely that thread is — what matters is that there is a way that the story can be reconstructed so that these two incompatible texts secretly do work together. The book of Christine includes things and the movie of Christine includes different things, and hypothetically you can use them to inform one another. I don’t want to, though — what the movie leaves unstated means we don’t have to deal with an extensive exchange with a racist grandpa, and there’s less of a focus on things like the importance of the military.

Instead, the story as presented is about an evil car.

Make no mistake: Christine is, as a movie, entirely worth the time I spent watching it just for the sequence of watching the damaged car repair itself. It’s great. There’s a greatness to the kills too, an excessive glory in how the movie treats the space around the car, and the sensuality of the material object that is Christine. Things like the use of the radio to communicate messages – threatening or otherwise – is a really cool touch. Christine is the character that drives the story and she’s really excellently played by a series of props.

I like this movie.

I also think it’s kinda got that fascist death cult thing going on that’s fundamental to a lot of Americana of the era. The Nerd never changes his ways from his devotion to Christine. He embraces the violence, the object, the change to himself, and reaches out for Christine as he – and it -dies, and the story treats his death as tragic. It’s a glorious death in its own way, where yes, he died, but thanks to him and his devotion to Christine, the bullies that hurt him and also a few people including a cop, are all dead.

The fantasy of a bullied nerd embracing evil power to finally get rid of the bullies is a pretty common one. It’s a very American story. It’s a story that’s mirrored in how they talk about school shootings. It’s a fantasy that there are problems and solutions that can’t really be addressed, but wouldn’t it be nice if they were. Shame there’s no way to consider it, or fix it, or address it.

Car’s just evil, you see.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!