#let them tell the story in the medium they are working in

[vidavalor]

hi! had a question about book vs. show opening and i think i need a more experienced word nerd than i to handle this.

in the book, specifically on the copyright page, there's a line that says: "Caveat: Bringing about Armageddon can be dangerous. Do not attempt it in your own home."

however, the television at the beginning of the show (as said in the script book, i'm not sure if this is the exact wording) says: "Warning: Causing Armageddon can be dangerous. Do not attempt it in your own home."

I was wondering what your thoughts on why "caveat" was changed to "warning" were, or if there was any reason why it was changed at all?

Well, hi there, @the-ineffable-parker! 💕 This question is everything. I don't know if I'd call myself a more experienced word nerd but I'm happy to share some thoughts and, of course, your virtual snacks of choice. 🤗

On the caveat and what I think it has to do with the nightingales and the neato fan under the cut.

To see what the reasons might be for these particular word changes between the novel and the tv series, I think that we have to first talk about why both the Caveat on the copyright page in the novel and the War-into-Warning that opens 1.01 exist in the first place.

Why does the story-- in both book and tv series form-- open like this?

I think that the short answer to your question is that it's related to wordplay in different mediums.

What I mean by this is that when you write a very wordplay-happy novel like Good Omens, you can do some wordplay in the book that you cannot do as easily in the same way with a more audio/visual medium, like television. On the other hand, though? There are visual puns that you can do on television that you would not be able to pull off in the exact same way in a book.

Both the novel and the tv series are using the same core language but they're just presenting some of it differently in the tv show because there is a lot of fun to be had with having audio/visual possibilities to use to tell the story, too.

To give you an example, let's look at what the book did vs. what the show did with the errors pun.

One of the jokes in the book is that there is a passage in which the word errors is spelled as error's. Obviously, the humor here comes from the fact that there is an error in the spelling of the word error. This pun works great in the novel because it's designed to be one that can be read but what if you wanted to include something like this in the tv series, where the majority of the words that are heard are spoken aloud?

The answer is what they did in the 1793 scene, which is have Aziraphale say this to Jean-Claude:

"C'est une grande mistake... erreur."

The humor here is that Aziraphale blanks on the word for error in French and winds up saying the English "mistake" instead. He's made an error on the word error-- a very similar pun to the one in the novel-- but there's also the extra layer here too of the fact that the word he remembers a second later as being the French word for error is correct-- it's erreur. It's almost exactly the same word. It's basically the English word error spoken with a French accent. 😂 He's got the entire, more complicated, rest of the sentence correct but for the word for error, which is easily the easiest word of them all. It's both humorous and also highlighting that Aziraphale's just in his head with French sometimes and that's what causes the occasional stumble.

This erreur pun would work in written form in a book but it plays even better on screen and Good Omens is taking advantage of the visual component of the television series to do all sorts of fun visual puns and otherwise utilize the visual medium to help with understanding of all different sorts of levels of language use in the story.

Think about visual puns like Aziraphale telling Mrs. Sandwich she's a figurative "pillar of the community" while the two of them are standing beside the bookshop's literal structural pillars... or the kids! visual pun from The Flood, when Crowley says "you can't kill kids!" and we see that the group of living beings that he's looking at when he says this contains both tiny humans and baby goats-- both of which are called kids.

I think that there is a visual reason why the word warning was used in the opening of the series and not caveat-- even though a caveat is a warning. It's related to what the caveat in the novel actually is and how they can best convey that exact same thing to a television audience.

So, the real question is: what is the caveat, exactly?

Why does it exist? What's this thing on the copyright page of the novel, which is virtually unheard of? Why do we need this note at the start of the book and what is it saying?

To look at this, we're actually going to do it in true Good Omens style-- out of chronological order 😂-- and actually begin with the warning that opens the tv series because, while it's the same thing as the caveat in the novel, I actually kind of like the war-into-warning even better.

The very first thing we ever see in all of the Good Omens television series is a word.

Specifically, it's the word war-- and it is very large and very red and very capital letters shouted in our face.

This is so the very first thing that we see that, as you can see from the screenshot below, I don't even have time to exit to full screen once hitting play before this is what I'm looking at-- and it doesn't even stay like this long enough for me to be able to take a clean screenshot of it before it begins to move and give me more to work with when it comes to understanding it.

At the same time as the word war is shown visually to us and we're reading this word, the word is chanted once by an unseen chorus of people. This is very important and you'll see why in a moment.

From just this alone, we can learn a couple of things.

One is that the word war might as well essentially also be the title of this show, which will make sense to us when we learn that the show is about different kinds of Armageddon. The plot is about the threat of Biblical and global kinds of Armageddon but it's really about a person's own Armageddon-- their own mental health struggles.

But, before we even get into analyzing the word war, there's first the even more important matters of the way that word was delivered to us-- and why a word was delivered to us at all.

Almost immediately, the screen begins to move and we see that we weren't actually looking at just the word war... we were really looking at the word warning... and then, very quickly, we are shown two things rapidly at once...

The first is that that more words start to scroll beneath the warning and the second is that what we're looking at-- the source of all of these words-- is a television that is revealed to be floating in outer space.

So... we're watching a streaming television show that begins with a message delivered to us on a visual metaphor for streaming television-- a tv floating in space. This is pretty meta stuff, right?

This is showing that the warning on the television screen-- the words we are shown there-- are all a message that is related to our ability to understand the show we've selected to watch. Good Omens is opening with a warning to its own audience about the very wordy content within the program and the coded nature of it.

This is also really funny when you consider that tv content ratings-- which are consider warnings-- also appear at the very beginning of hours of tv. You can see Amazon giving me content warnings over the War/Warning in the screenshots above, as we've all gotten when streaming the show. I found this quite funny considering that this show would be TV-MA on Amazon without the cant and the novel would never have been published by a traditional publisher in the late '80s without it.

So, the network is warning for content but the show itself is giving content warnings of a different kind-- ones related to letting the audience know that they have decided to stream a show in which a word game is afoot... but what kind of word game?

The war-into-warning is a visual metaphor for that thing around which Terry Pratchett's Discworld was formed: etymology. It's about the history of words and their meanings-- or, why it is we say what it is we say and how we came to say it.

It begins with showing a core word-- war-- and then expands to show word evolution through its related word of warning. This is the reason why it's war/warning and not caveat, even though a caveat is a kind of warning, as we'll look at below.

It's because the word war living inside the word warning allows them to create a visual to show us word history right off the bat at the start of the series to convey that to an audience who isn't reading the story so much as hearing and seeing the story unfold before them.

Immediately, we are shown that this is a show that is obsessed with words because big, red, capital letter words are the very first things that they showed us. We know that looking at the connections between words and their histories and earlier meanings is something worth considering when we are listening to these characters speak.

But, maybe most importantly?

With war/warning, we are also given the very first Clue as to how to speak Crowley and Aziraphale's cant-- hidden there before, if the show is our first encounter with this story, we've even met them or heard them interact.

It also happens to be the biggest and most important Clue. It's basically the Clue that, if you do nothing else but this, you're going to be able to figure out a fairly decent amount of what it is that they're saying. That Clue?

Is simply to look at the words within words-- which is also, subtly, a backdoor entrance into etymology as a whole because it's encouraging you to take apart the words.

I know that must be shocking since you messaged me with this request and my every other post is literally doing exactly this 😂 but, for the record! as I've said before, I didn't just make that up out of nowhere. I'm following the directions of the cant that I've found keys throughout the story and one of the biggest ones is this opening of the tv show where they're like...

So, you're about to watch a very wordy something in which it becomes pretty obvious pretty quickly that the main characters are speaking a hidden language and, if you want to understand that language, the biggest tip that we can give you to get started is to pay attention to the words that are hidden inside the words they are choosing to speak.

Remember when I said the fact that the word war was chanted was important? This is connected to that.

War is chanted... but warning is not. Why?

Because this is an example of one of the main ways that the cant works. Warning is the word that's really there on the surface level. It represents the word we'd hear them speak if only listening on the surface level. The cant, though, is hidden in the origins of the words they're speaking and in the words buried within those words.

Part of the game of this for Crowley and Aziraphale is to try to carry on an entire conversation that is happening on one, surface level but is really another conversation entirely in the cant. It's their flirty little birdsong. To do that, they're often intentionally choosing words based on the words that are hidden within them or based on the historical or alternative meanings of those words. In other words?

They're using etymology to code their speech.

This is why approximately 80% of the posts on my blog 😂 are taking apart the words in this story and coming at them from their histories and from the words that are within them. I didn't just randomly decide these were the wordplay rules out of nowhere-- I'm literally following the different directions that I keep finding in the keys hidden throughout the story.

So, war is chanted to highlight the importance of looking for hidden words and at looking at the etymology of words. The fact that it's chanted is awfully interesting because...

...the word chant comes from the Latin verb cantere, which meant to sing. Chanting is a spoken word version of music, right? You know what other cousin word to chant also comes from cantere?

Cant, baby. 😉

The word for the kind of hidden language that Crowley and Aziraphale have formed is etymologically related to the very first sound we ever hear in the series. The chanting of the word war is really the story chanting cant! at the audience.

So, the word that means a hidden language is a variant of the word that means to chant, or to speak-sing... and both words are from the same Latin verb for singing.

So, now, we just connected canting to music-- something that seems significant considering that the characters are birds and Nightingales, as we'll look at below, is the word that Crowley and Aziraphale use to reference their romantic cant.

Because canting is a big way of expressing love for one another, it is also somewhat synonymous for them with love and romance, which is how Crowley said "no nightingales" in The Final 15 and meant I was canting and you didn't hear what I was saying but *Aziraphale* heard that and took it instead as more like this isn't loving me-- you don't love me and started to cry.

Music is language. Singing is talking is canting.

This is also why, if you go to a church service, the person whose job it is to lead everybody in singing is called a cantor... which is actually the same word you could use to refer to someone who is speaking in a cant.

This is part of the humor when Crowley and Aziraphale are canting up a storm in St. James' Park in the first episode and Crowley jokes that there won't be anyone Up there for Aziraphale to cant/to sing with in Heaven (and to "sing with") because Up there, there's only...

So, if we take these clues from war/warning and we apply them to one of the biggest words in Good Omens when it comes to Crowley and Aziraphale and their language, we can figure out why the obsession throughout the story with the nightingales, right?

What are literal nightingales? They're a nocturnal songbird, right? They're birds that are up and singing and mating during the evening, when most other birds are asleep, which is in keeping with Crowley and Aziraphale's secret relationship and how they often meet up to spend time together during the night. They're nocturnal birds themselves. [This is also one of the main reasons why the Job minisode-- with the courtyard scene that sees them begin to form the cant-- is entitled "A Conversation with Owls", which are wise old nocturnal birds.]

Nightingales are called that because the night part is obviously related to the night and the gale part is from the Old English galan/galon, which meant to sing. Considering what we went into about singing and canting above, it makes for a good word related to the hidden language. So, what about the wars within warning here? What words are in nightingales?

Ale, which is a type of alcohol, which is sex in the cant, and the homophone for night-- knight, which they both once literally were. While knights were men, the word gal is also in there because they're all the flavors. Finally, a gale is a big storm, particularly one at sea, and the two of them have a long history of literal nights in storms together-- The Flood, Job, etc.-- but a storm for these two with their fish/the sea metaphor for sex seems also likely euphemistic/metaphoric for a passionate night.

The poetic name for the nightingale is the philomel, from the Greek philomela, and it has a rather perfect etymology for this conversation. Philos is Greek for a lover and for loving something. The -mel/-mela part of the word, though, has two, different etymological tracks. The Greek word melos means a tune or a song, which would make philomel mean "lover of song". However, the Greek mela is actually the word for the apple, which would also make philomel mean "lover of apples."

The evolution of -mel/-mela in words from Greek has a lot of overlap between the meanings of apples and songs to a point that it could, in all likelihood, easily mean both. The inclusion of apples also references what they consider the start of their relationship in Eden.

Nightingales are philomels-- lovers of music, of cant, of apples and of "apples." As many have pointed out, the French word for the nightingale is rossignol... but the birds are not the only thing that rossignol means.

A rossignol is also a skeleton key, or a master key. It's a key that unlocks all the other doors-- which is, functionally, what nightingales is in the series.

If you understand what a nightingale is, you've cracked the code enough to understand that there's a cant and you're figuring out how to speak it, which is also then how you can understand more about what you're watching through understanding more of what Crowley and Aziraphale are saying.

Rossignol became the French word for a skeleton key because of the Rossignol family, who created The Great Cypher that coded French state secrets for generations. It's a reference to a cant that was developed to keep France safe and Aziraphale plays on that when flirting with Crowley in S2.

"I went to Monsieur Rossignol's night classes in 1760."

"I went to" (past tense of to go to, euphemistic for to come) "Monsieur Rossignol's" (Monsieur is French for "my lord"-- this is "My Lord Nightingale's") "night classes" (night time; knights but lass in class = classy lass b/c Aziraphale's Lord Nightingale is Lord Gender Fuckery). French is also old slang for oral sex. Aziraphale learned how to speak it the hard way. 😂

Aziraphale's French flirtation to Crowley in this scene is also a riff on a phrase related to vocabulary, which, as we know, is what a cant is. He references la plume de ma tantes, which are those sentences you are taught when learning to speak a new language that are things you are probably never, ever, ever going to say in real life but which are worded in this way to teach you more vocabulary faster than you would otherwise learn it.

Frances McDormand's The Voice of God is largely reading passages from the Good Omens' novel in S1 and many of the things she is saying are la plume de ma tantes, as part of her job as a character is to help teach us Nightingales. Some examples: "He probably wins prizes for his tropical fish" and "The Russian cultural attache's black bread is particularly sought after by the more discerning duck."

Nightingales is then a word that references their cant but the cant is really two things. It exists to mask their speech in public so that they can really be saying sweet things to one another when sounding like they're bickering enemies on the surface but they also just love it. They love words and their history is also the history of words on Earth, as they're the ones who have been here since the beginning through these evolutions. They're walking, talking etymological dictionaries and wording each other is a literal love language. They use it in private, too, because they enjoy it.

A cant, fundamentally, is a private vocabulary. It's a type of dialect made up of giving existing words secret, private meaning known only to those who speak the cant.

If you have a partner or a long-time friend or family members where you have a series of in-jokes and references and words that mean something different to your small group than they would to outsiders, you actually speak a form of cant. This is called a familect and most of us speak at least one or two. Nightingales is a structured, secret code and it's a fun game that they love to play together but it's also just the private vocabulary of a couple.

This is where we're going to come back to caveat.

So, we can see why war into warning was a good way to signal the cant on television and start to explain it but what about how it was originally done in the novel? What's the pun there?

The book and the tv series have almost the exact same caveat/warning, as you pointed out. Other than changing the word caveat to the word warning in the tv series, the only other thing that's different is the very beginning of the second line.

The book is this:

CAVEAT

Kids! Bringing about Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt it in your own home.

The tv series is this:

WAR... WARNING

Kids! Causing Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt it in your own home.

As you can see, the only other difference is the 'bringing about' from the novel being changed to 'causing' in the tv series. It'll seem weird that I'm going to say that this is not that big a deal but it's not and the reason why is because they didn't actually delete it entirely. They just moved it into a different la plume de ma tante within the same episode-- one that helps to reinforce that Armageddon has different layers of meaning. The "bringing about" is here in this bit:

This leaves us with the change from caveat and the significance of that word. Like the quick war/warning in the opening of 1.01, we can now expect that the caveat is there to talk about cant, right? And, in fact, it very much is.

First off, the caveat is located on the copyright page of the novel, which is where all the info about the book is located. This is where we can mention that the words that are in the caveat and the war/warning are phrased in such a way so as to immediately invoke an informercial.

When you read them, you most likely think of the phrase: "Kids! Don't try this at home!", right? The phrase is synonymous with infomercials of the '80s and '90s, in particular, where how something worked was detailed in the commercial as part of the enticement to buy it.

While the television floating in outer space in 1.01 is a visual metaphor for streaming television, there was already this television reference in the caveat in the book back when it was first published because the language of that medium was being used in this little message on the copyright page previewing how the product that the reader had bought or was thinking of buying worked.

Caveat is Latin for a warning and translates to "let the person beware." You've probably heard of people saying "buyer beware" as a disclaimer for a product, yes? That evolved from the famous Latin phrase that meant that same thing, which was caveat emptor.

Caveat emptor was a phrase meaning that the buyer was responsible for doing their due diligence on a product before deciding to purchase and use it. So, the book opens with the word CAVEAT shouted at the reader and what follows is actually the warning that people would need to be fulfilling the idea of caveat emptor... and only the word caveat appears on the page. The space next to it is, um, empty. There's the first pun of the book and the first hint at there being hidden words... but this isn't even the best part of the choice of the word caveat to open the novel.

Arguably the most famous book related to cant in history is a book called A Caveat or Warning for Common Cursitors. It's a book that lives at the intersection of religion and cant-- which feels extremely relevant to Good Omens, no?

The book is a purported expose of and glossary of one of the most well-known cants in history, which is Thieves' Cant. The things you need to know about Thieves' Cant is that an absolute fuckton of words we use still today with regards to criminality originated in Thieves' Cant... and that Thieves' Cant is generally considered to have been almost entirely (if not entirely) made up by Thomas Harman, who is the author of the above mentioned book.

The first word in Good Omens-- which features a made up cant designed to help queer code the novel so it could be published and sold-- is a reference to history's most famous made up cant that was also invented to sell books.

Here's another reference to a commercial cant before I tell you more relevant things about Thieves' Cant... Gabriel and the neato fan.

Gabriel is using the first novel of Discworld as a literal fan and there's also the fact that the Discworld books do make neato fans-- as in, fans of the books. The other meaning, though, is that, in the Victorian era, there was this thing called Fan Language that was a secret language completely made up by a fan maker whose sales were dipping to sell more fans. It took off in public, though, and people started actually using it and a fan, as a result, is one word that can be used to refer to a cant.

Good Omens' cant shares foundations with how language is used in Pratchett's Discworld so when Gabriel takes a copy of the first Discworld novel-- The Color of Magic-- and is like "books are keen!" (kee, homophone: key) and starts fanning it in Saraqael's face and saying that Discworld can make a "neato fan"...

Gabriel doesn't know it, of course, but, on a meta level, he's telling everyone that the cant is the brainchild of Terry Pratchett and comes from all of the evident love of etymology woven throughout his Discworld novels. It's saying that Discworld is one of the keys that are helpful to understanding the cant and how language is used in Good Omens.

[Some not at all subtle shade being thrown at You Know Who with this, as well. 😉]

This is also why the literal fans come out during The Meeting Ball when Aziraphale has taught the neighborhood a fan by miracling them all into having the ability to speak 19th-century styled Nightingales.

And, no, for the record, Ms. Cheng is not doing something with her fan that was an approved move in The Secret Fan Language of the Victorian era. 😂

The neato fan and fan language is referencing another cant that was made to use hidden language to sell a product to further the suggestion that Good Omens is doing the same. Another example of this, too, is in the references to The Maltese Falcon, which also used etymology-based queer coding to tell its story.

Crowley had a Maltese Falcon prop overlooking his communication devices (lolololol) in his flat in S1, where it was also positioned to create a shadow when the sun came through, having the effect of revealing a hidden pair of birds.

Back to caveat and the ties between Thieves' Cant and religiosity...

So, we all know from school who Martin Luther was-- he of the whole Protestant Reformation and eventual Lutheranism, etc.. There's a truly weird piece of his history, though, that relates to cant and also doesn't just go along with themes in Good Omens but has a disturbingly relevant connection to things going on in the world right now.

In the 1520s, Martin Luther comes out and starts telling anyone who will listen that even well-educated, Godly people like him can fall victim to thieves and be swindled. He claims that he's been robbed by a group of "vagabonds" who spoke "a secret dialect" to communicate between each other in a way that Luther couldn't understand. Martin Luther didn't just tell his friends about this-- he used his platform of that era to not shut up about it for quite some time.

Martin Luther went so far as to write the forward for the German edition of a book called Liber Vagatorum, which became known in English as The Book of Vagabonds and Beggars. It was a book that claimed to be the first glossary of what would eventually become known as Thieves' Cant (or Peddler's French). Liber Vagatorum was kind of an early days book on this subject, which involved the "culture wars" of this era.

Basically, during this time period, a few things were happening at once that made people like Martin Luther and other religious leaders very nervous. One was that, while books were still expensive, the population as a whole was rapidly becoming more literate. Religious fundamentalists do not like literacy because literate people are generally more liberal and much harder to control.

The other thing going on is massive wealth disparity causing there to be a large number of vagabonds-- people who are homeless and/or hungry, and whose only "crimes" are begging for money, loitering/sleeping in public spaces, and maybe some petty theft for food and medicine. They're not actually dangerous criminals but people who need help in a society with no social safety nets. Probably because of this wealth disparity, a thing called rogue literature becomes incredibly popular.

Rogue literature are stories about criminals. Some of them are about sympathetic, heroic, Robin Hood-type characters. Some of them are just about legit bad guys but maybe exploring areas of moral greyness or just having a villain for a protagonist. This is incredibly liberal storytelling for the very religious time period and popular fiction is exploding as a result. This world of more secular, more liberal imagination is threatening to those trying to keep their power through religion.

In order to thwart this, leaders like Martin Luther and others began to equate these "rogues"-- real and fictional-- with the demonic... and the vagabonds with the rogues. Stop me if this is sounding a little familiar, particularly if you're currently living in the United States.

Making this worse is that punishment for crime back then was fucking brutal. You could be hanged if you were caught stealing more than once. People were tortured-- the stocks, whipping people, all that stuff was commonplace. And there was basically no real separation of church and state so if the religious leaders said that things like hunger and homelessness made vagabonds as criminal as rogues and if those criminals were all demonic, then you can see the desperation happening here for social control, right?

Back then, as always, there some signal words that some thieves would use to know if they were speaking with someone who was friendly or to communicate without outsider knowledge but there wasn't this established, elaborate secret language that Martin Luther and others claimed there was. So, why did they claim that there was this thing?

They were looking to make rogues seem demonic and dangerous and empowering their flock to know how to fight the evil darkness living among them. Some believed that to be true but others were just drawn in because, ya know... secret codes and underworlds are kinda fun, actually? The church leaders told everyone that these rogues were all demonic and they spoken in a secret code and people got really into figuring it out. Most claimed they were doing it for pious, morally upstanding reasons... but everybody likes a good bit of hidden mystery.

The religious zealots of that time were trying to use this secret language thing to make rogues seem scarier and draw people closer to the church again and that probably worked for some but, overall, it pretty much backfired because people like a bit of fun mystery. It wound up making the rogue world all that sexier... whether everyone pouring over notes to decode it wanted to admit that or not. 😉

Think about references to other things like this in Good Omens... like how R.P. Tyler makes sure to watch all those "scandalous" programs on the BBC before he writes in to complain about them... because God forbid, he just admit that he likes a bit of spice in his television shows. Think about the jokes around The Velvet Underground which, before it was the tongue-in-cheek name of a brilliant rock band, was a bestselling book from the early 1960s that was a pearl-clutching "expose" of all the whole "secret world of deviant sex" that was existing all around everyone.

This is, fundamentally, all the same nonsense that was going on with the religious people going at those demonic rogues and vagabonds in the Thieves' Cant era and trying to shame people by saying enjoying popular literature was unholy. It's all about using religion as a form of social control.

There's always people who want to make a buck at the expense of others and don't really care about the morality of that, though, and this guy Thomas Harman saw an opportunity in 1566 to make some cash by publishing the book on Thieves' Cant (which he went full bigot on and also referred to as Peddler's French in his book.) Harman claimed expert status by saying that he had been taught the cant by an actual rogue but even plenty of people back then-- let alone pretty much every historian since-- thought that this sounded less than true.

Still! People like a secret code, man, and life was really boring back then. The book was a huge hit. Even writers of rogue literature who were pretty sure it was bullshit decided to put some of these words into their stories-- namely because many of their readers thought Harman's book was true and that this is how thieves'/rogues spoke so they were demanding "authenticity."

What happened is word evolution at its finest. As these books continued to exist into future generations, the cant Harman is thought to have personally invented to sell his book became the etymological origins of words related to criminality that are still really common in English. Amusingly, many of them have even been adopted by criminals themselves.

This is just a handful of words and phrases that originated from Thieves' Cant:

The mafia term "made man"; a fence being the term for a person who will sell stolen goods; the phrase die hard, which meant to face the gallows without fear; to flog meaning to whip; to grease (someone's palms) meaning to bribe them; to take a hike; to hoodwink someone; hush money; jail bird; to lift meaning to steal; to be left in the lurch...

This is only a sampling and it shows the impact of all of this well into today. The point is that Thieves' Cant is not just one of the most influential cants that has ever existed but it is also the most famous example of one that was not organically created. This guy sat down and wrote it in order to be able to sell a book.

The point in this reference here is that Thomas Harman was helping religious zealots in making up this cant to sell this book... while Good Omens is a satire of people exactly like Harman, Martin Luther, and these other religious zealots. The cant made up for Good Omens was done to queer code it so it could be published in a society that could barely tolerate the surface-level blasphemy of the book, let alone the queer romance at the center of the story.

Thieves' Cant was partially a tool of oppression while Good Omens' Nightingales Cant is a hidden language that exists to allow freer speech.

If you take the words-within-words rule and apply it to caveat, you quickly see the words cav, cave, and eat, right?

The eat makes sense to us pretty instantly because of all the food in the story and the role of Famine. Cav is a word related to horses (think: cavalier). So, now, we have food and horses, both of which aren't just euphemistic in Crowley and Aziraphale's cant but are part of the overall figurative language in the story and in things like The Four Horsepeople of The Apocalypse, whose job it is to start the war of Armageddon. Finally, and most importantly, there's the word cave.

Cave as a verb means to fall in. It's saying right up front that the story is about falling in all meanings of the word and that likely includes Aziraphale's fall here in the tv series. Consider the presence of the cave in the opening titles...

Caveat, as a word, shows what causes a person's own Armageddon, which is fundamentally what the story is about. It's famine. It's hunger. It's a lack of not just literal food but every kind of food-- it's lacking sustenance and satisfaction. It's when we push that away that The Four Horsepeople start to metaphorically show up at our door. That's when we're likely to fall-- to cave in, to collapse. That war within ourselves is for what the book is a warning.

I think that caveat has maybe actually found its way into the Good Omens tv series, if not quite at the start of the series. It's this visual warning in S2:

Kids! Causing Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt it in your own home! There's some more things in here but just a quick look at some of these starter things here...

Kids!-- A note to pay attention to the multiple meanings of words, such as how kids is a word that applies to tiny humans and baby goats and, facetiously, people of basically any age; and also a note to be aware of wordplay using the animal kingdom.

Dangerous-- In the tv series, the word that basically single-handedly proves hidden language by how Aziraphale's use of it in the 1967 scene makes absolutely no sense without seeing that he and Crowley are speaking in a cant. ["I can't have you risking your life-- not even for something dangerous."] Take this apart and you find quite a few romantic things.

Do not attempt it in your own home-- One thing here is that this can be two, separate-but-related sentences: Do not attempt. It in your own home. But, if you look at words-within-words and homophony, this can also be a warning that seems true of many situations but also awfully relevant to the end of Season Two...

Do not/knot at tempt. It in your own home.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[mollyrealized]

How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.”  I mean, this is … what … '88?  '88, '89.  So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books.  Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No."  And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story.  And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy."  Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick.  Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe.  Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman.  And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA.  And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary. 

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.”  You know, “This is eel.  This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"  

We'd finished, so we pay our bill.  And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil.  And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be –  it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months.  So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course."  I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.”  But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well.  And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up.  And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God.  Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”.  I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah.  Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard.  I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you. 

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

[amuseoffyre]

I've been rolling around in Good Omens thoughts again and a gifset made something jump out at me.

This is where the Metatron is going to come undone. He's got the same binary thinking as Heaven. Good or bad. Heaven or hell. Coffee or death. So predictable.

It reminded me of the scene in S1 when Aziraphale is confronted by the angels and they tell him "it's time to choose a side" and this is where it gets chewy and delicious.

Aziraphale points out "there obviously has to be two sides. That's the whole point, so people can make choices. That's what being human means - choices, but that's for them. Our job as angels should be to keep all this working so they can make choices".

He's already arguing for humanity all the way through S1, which is a problem, but it's something he's done consistently. Not questioning. Very much, not questioning. Just... offering suggestions. So this isn't news. He's even made these kind of suggestions to the Metatron before, so not new.

At the end of S1, Crowley points out that he thinks the real 'big one' is coming "Heaven and Hell against humanity". Aziraphale has been sitting with that knowledge for years. He and Crowley have been dancing on the edge of disaster with Heaven and Hell turning up whenever they wanted, invading their space, demanding their time and compliance even though they are seen as rogue agents.

Everything in S2 is Aziraphale trying to maintain the veneer of everything is fine while still dealing with the terror of it all falling apart. The "or death" has been hanging over them the whole time. He saw the attempted execution. He's been told by Heaven that Crowley is under threat.

But the thing about Aziraphale is that he never ever does the predictable thing. Yes, he agreed to go back to Heaven. Yes, the Metatron leveraged Crowley's safety against him to guarantee it. The statement of "I don't want to go back to Heaven" turning around as soon as Crowley's safety is brought into it. Yes, he'll be the Archangel.

But this is the angel who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God's face. This is the angel who interfered in a bet between God and Satan to save the lives of three children. This is the angel who collaborated with a demon so they could have more down time. This is the angel who was swayed towards saving the world because he loves his life there and all his favourite foods and music and indulgences. This is the angel who flipped the bird and dive-bombed out of Heaven to possess a medium and fly a scooter to the end of the world.

Whatever the Metatron thinks he's done by separating Crowley and Aziraphale, he has no idea what he's unleashed. Crowley's bee metaphor comes to mind here. Angels are fiercely protective of Heaven but once you're inside? Well, that's another story. Aziraphale may look like a bee, but he hasn't been a bee for a long, long time. They knew it at his trial.

And Aziraphale can't say he didn't warn them:

"So you're probably thinking if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do and very, very soon, you're all going to get the chance to find out"

Heaven's got a big storm coming and they let it right in through the front door.

[thydungeongal]

There's this idea floating around the general TTRPG space that's kind of hard to put one's finger on which I think is best articulated as "the purpose of an RPG is to produce a conventionally shaped satisfying narrative," and in this context I mean RPG as not just the game as it exists in the book but the act of play itself.

And this isn't exactly a new thing: since time immemorial people have tried to force TTRPGs to produce traditional narratives for them, often to be disappointed. I also feel this was behind a lot of the discussion that emerged from the Forge and that informed the first "narrativist" RPGs (I'm only using the word here as a shorthand: I don't think the GNS taxonomy is very useful as more than a shibboleth): that at least for some TTRPGs the creation of a story was the primary goal (heck, some of them even called themselves Storytelling games), but since those games when played as written actually ended up resisting narrative convention they were on some level dysfunctional for that purpose.

There's some truth to this but also a lot of nuance: when you get down to the roots of the hobby, the purpose of a game of D&D wasn't the production of a narrative. It was to imagine a guy and put that guy in situations, as primarily a game that challenged the player. The production of a narrative was secondary and entirely emergent.

But in the eighties you basically get the first generation of players without the background from wargames, whose impressions of RPGs aren't colored by the assumption that "it's kind of like a wargame but you only control one guy." And you start getting lots of RPGs, some of which specifically try to model specific types of stories. But because the medium is still new the tools used to achieve those stories are sometimes inelegant (even though people see the potential for telling lots of stories using the medium, they are still largely letting their designs be informed by the "wargame where you only control one guy" types of game) and players and designers alike start to realize that these systems need a bit of help to nudge the games in the direction of a satisfying narrative. Games start having lots of advice not only from the point of view of the administrative point of view of refereeing a game, but also from the point of view of treating the GM as a storyteller whose purpose is to sometimes give the rules a bit of a nudge to make the story go a certain way. What you ultimately get is Vampire: the Masquerade, which while a paradigm shift for its time is still ultimately a D&D ass game that wants to be used for the sake of telling a conventional narrative, so you get a lot of explicit advice to ignore the systems when they don't produce a satisfying story.

Anyway, the point is that in some games the production of a satisfying narrative isn't a primary design goal even when the game itself tries to portray itself as such.

But what you also get is this idea that since the production of a satisfying narrative is seen as the goal of these games (even though it isn't necessarily so), if a game (as in the act of play) doesn't produce a satisfying narrative, then the game itself must be somehow dysfunctional.

A lot of people are willing to blame this on players: the GM isn't doing enough work, a good GM can tell a good story with any system, your players aren't engaging with the game properly, your players are bad if they don't see the point in telling a greater story. When the real culprit might actually be the game system itself, or rather a misalignment between the group's desired fiction and the type of fiction that the game produces. And when players end up misidentifying what is actually an issue their group has with the system as a player issue, you end up with unhappy players fighting against the type of narrative the game itself wants to tell.

I don't think an RPG is dysfunctional even if it doesn't produce a conventionally shaped, satisfying narrative, because while I do think the act of play inevitably ends up creating an emergent narrative, that emergent narrative conforming to conventions of storytelling isn't always the primary goal of play. Conversely, a game whose systems have been built to facilitate the production of a narrative that conforms to conventions of storytelling or emulates some genre well is also hella good. But regardless, there's a lot to be said for playing games the way the games themselves present themselves as.

Your traditional challenge-based dungeon game might not produce a conventionally satisfying narrative and that's okay and it's not your or any of your players' fault. The production of a conventionally satisfying narrative as an emergent function of play was never a design goal when that challenge-based dungeon game was being made.

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Five

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: You accept the mating bond... Eris can't wait until after the party to claim you.

Warnings: 18+ only, SMUT (oral (fem rec), p in v, slight breeding kink), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Loving Flames Masterlist

graphics from @saradika-graphics

After the wedding and High Lady ceremony finished, the events continued in the ballroom of the Forest House. Of course, you had a meal first, to serve to Eris. While you planned to stay around and celebrate a bit before retreating to a small cabin on the Autumn border, Eris had other plans.

When you placed the special meal in front of him, his lust-filled eyes told you that you'd be leaving the party early today. The meal was something the chefs in the kitchen told you was Eris's favorite, one you helped make yourself. Eris even mentioned this meal to you when you were Under the Mountain, wishing for better food than what you had.

You had a smile on your face as you sat down next to him, only getting in a few bites of your meal before he pulled you from your chair. You glanced down to his plate and saw it sparkling clean. "How did you eat that do quickly?" You giggled, leaning your head to the side as Eris nipped your neck with his teeth.

"I have my secrets." He said and turned you around, pulling you close to him. You felt the bond fully sink in, that string tightening and holding you even closer to Eris than you'd been before.

"I need to take you, now, princess." You heard him say in your mind.

You blinked at him for a few seconds, surprised he got the hang of speaking mind-to-mind so quickly. "Not here, my love." You said, cupping his cheek. "Tell them we are going before you burn the building wrong when a fly looks at me for a second too long." You teased.

An answering growl vibrated through your mind, then Eris announced you would be taking your leave. He added in that they could enjoy the party. You giggled as he hoisted you into his arms, one under your legs and the other under your arms.

"Be safe!" You heard Cassian yell as Eris winnowed you to the cabin.

"Er, you really couldn't have waited?" You asked, turning your attention to him when he set you on the floor.

The lust in his eyes spoke for him as he backed up against the wall. "I need you now, princess." He said, picking you up by the thighs and pining you against the wall.

"Then what are you waiting for?" You asked. With that, his lips were on yours in a slow, passionate movement. Biting down on your bottom lip and then roaming your mouth with his tongue, you couldn't help but moan into his mouth. You fingers tangled with his hair and you whined as he gripped your thighs tighter.

"Take me to the bedroom. Our first time as mate will not be on the wall." You said.

He started moving, his lips only leaving yours to give you a break in breath. They moved down to your neck, right below your ear to suck on the part that made your back arch. "Eris..." You whispered, tugging at his hair.

"Yes, love?" He smirked, breathing on your neck before nipping at your shoulder.

"Don't tease tonight. Not now. I need you." You said. Normally, Eris would take his time. And he planned on doing just that throughout the night. But right now, he needed to be buried deep inside you as you both connected on an even deeper level than before.

You felt him set you back on your feet, turning you around. You paused only to feel him kiss your neck and down to your shoulders as he untied your dress. “You can do me next.” He whispered, kissing down your body as he slipped the dress off your shoulders, allowing it to pool at your feet. You took a deep breath as he spun you around, tsking as he noticed you didn’t have anything under the dress. “What am I to do with you, my precious, delicious, beautiful mate?” He asked, pushing you back against the bed gently.

You let out a squeal as he tugged your legs down, kissing your inner thighs. “I said no teasing, High Lord.” You ground out, gasping as he pressed a gentle kiss on your core.

“This isn’t teasing, High Lady.” He said, smirking as he rubbing your thighs, then delved his tongue in between your folds.

You bucked your hips, closing your eyes as he pinned them down, devouring you whole. “Eris!” You whined out, tugging at his hair. Gods… if this was your life from now on, you would be incredibly happy.

Just as you were about to snap from his tongue and hands, he pulled away, wiping away the slick from his face. “You’re not cumming until I’m inside you.” He said. “And maybe, if you want, I can pump you full so we can have a true heir of the Autumn Court.” He whispered, nipping at your neck.

You whined, pulling him closer to you. “Take your clothes off. Now.” You said.

He smirked and leaned back. “You do it, princess.” He said.

You took a deep breath, leaning forward to untie his tunic, then down to untie his pants. He growled when you took too long, ripping off the clothing himself. “Lay back, princess. Let me take care of you.” He said.

You bit your lip, knowing just exactly what he was going to do. A vision of your first time with Eris flashed in your mind, just under a year ago. If that was incredible, you couldn’t imagine how good this was going to be.

“This is going to be better than good, princess.” Eris said in your mind, crawling on top of you as you backed up towards the headboard. “This is going to be better than incredible. You won’t even have words.” He said.

“If you keep talking, I don’t think it’s going to be anything.” You said. With that, Eris lined his length up to your entrance.

He peered down on you, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he entered his entire length. You threw your head against the mattress, letting out an incredulous moan. “Eris…” you panted, looking into his eyes when he grabbed your chin.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He said. You panted as he began to slowly move, moving his hands up to entwine with yours. As he moved in and you, painstakingly slow, you leaned up to kiss him, needing to be even closer to him.

With your eyes closed, he entered your mind, rubbing soft circles against the edges of your walls. Somehow, it tickled something just right because you bucked your hips, squeezing him tighter. “Seems like I found the inner spot.” He whispered.

The juxtaposition between him in your mind and in reality, combined with the pleasure he was giving you right now, made you dizzy. “Er…” you whimpered, moving your hips along with his.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he said, slowly increasing his speed. “And I love these little noises you’re making for me. The look of bliss on your face.” He said, flashing the image of you under him to your mind. You groaned and let go of his hands, bringing them to his back. He smirked against your neck, nipping at it as he increased his pace again.

You leaned up, wrapping your legs around his waist to suck him in deeper. “You feel so good.” You whispered to him, hands tracing the scars along his back, ones his father gave him and ones Amarantha gave him. “I love you…” you whispered. “And I love the way you feel inside me. The growls when you get possessive. The small whimpers when you finish.” You whispered in his ear, nipping at his earlobe. “And I love it when you cum inside me.” You said, causing him to increase his speed.

It was a steady pace, him bringing a hand down to your clit to rub it while you both chased your highs. “Cauldron boil me… (Y/N)!” He groaned. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and at that and him yelling your name, your core tightened.

“Eris… keep going.” You whispered, leaning back to kiss him deeply.

He moaned into your mouth as you released together, joined in mind, soul, and body. He chased your highs while moving in and out. Your legs loosened their grip on his waist, body relaxing as you came down from your climax.

You let out a small gasp as he pulled out, kissing you again. “Was that better than our first?” He teased.

You let out a small, breathy laugh. “So so much better.” You said and looked over to him. “I love you, Er.” You whispered.

He cupped your cheek. “I love you, princess.” He whispered.

His eyes darkened after a moment when he caught your scent from the gentle breeze through the window. “Let’s see about that wall now.” He said and smirked, laughing when you when you giggled and straddled him.

“Not until I get my go at you.” You said, holding him down on the bed.

He smirked and let his fingers intertwine behind his head. “Your wish is my command, High Lady.” He said and smirked.

You returned the look, leaning down. “You may regret that, High Lord.”

A/N: I debated making this a drabble but it felt closer to the actual story line than anything else... also the poll I posted yesterday technically wasn't closed but I started writing this earlier anyway... and it's winning.

Taglist

Tagging (thank you for all your lovely comments, they fuel my writing for the better every day): @96jnie @rcarbo1 @circe143 @bookwormysblog @stuff-i-found-while-crying @acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @optimistic-but-very-realistic @minaethrym @herondale-lightworm @saltedcoffeescotch @faridathefairy @alliex-o @mariahoedt @falszywe @d3ad-ins1de @anyzandy @mulledwinetea @myromanempiree @ysmtttty @dumblani @brighterthanlonelythoughts @micaxrocky @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @windblownwinston @the-golden-jhope @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @homeslices @todaystheday @quackquackhun @Kayhud05 @forgiveliv @of-outerspace @darkbloodsly @sarahswiftie23 @edance2000 @myrtlethai @superspideyparker @tothestarsandwhateverend @adharanotfound @deancodedgirlie @plants-w0rld @confusedsezure @theanxietyqueen17 @megzdoodle @batboyslover @grace-mint @adaliajaycee @tortured-artists @tenshis-cake @andreperez11 @thesongofselene @ibysworld @marielouiseva @inky-sun @high-speed-r @lilah-asteria @antonia002 @fallingforharry-1 @azrielswhore @theshekinahb

@lostpirateinwonderland @tamara8646 @bluesylveon2 @microwaveallthedemons @paleidiot @krowiathemythologynerd @saverockandroll54 @elizastea-529 @aurorab99 @eve_the_tree @theravenphoenix26 @mybestfriendmademe @anmasca @Fairebayatch

[spiderwcd]

sense | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x medium ! f ! reader

summary: colby meets a new medium for their video, but he didn't expect to have a crush on her 

w.c.: 5.4k

warning(s): talk about paranormal, creepy activity, a lil steamy moment

a/n:  like sleep tight, the hauntings are made up and the story line does not exist. i do want to add that, i suck at writing a lot of like investigative stories so please don’t judge me. also I had requests for this type of story, ironically I was already working on it so hope you guys enjoy it

images from pinterest !

"Is anyone gonna join us?" Colby asked, packing his camera into his bag. 

"Actually, yeah, some girl that Celina referred from the home town," Sam replied. "She's supposed to be a medium." He added. 

The two guys finally we're going to investigate the infamous orphanage that is supposedly haunted by the spirits of the children that died. They had finally done the research and were ready to go investigate. 

"Cool, what's this girl's name?" Colby inquired. 

"Uhm, I think it's y/n?" Sam stopped to think, pulling out his phone. "Yeah, I texted her this morning letting her know we're going to catch a flight there, she's our ride." Sam chuckled, putting away his phone into his pocket. 

Colby let the name sit in his brain for a little, hoping to remember it later. It wasn't long before they were on their flight there. It was quite a while, editing and looking over their notes. 

When they landed, Sam kept searching for her face and Colby totally lost who they were supposed to look for. Sam's eyes soon lit up, recognizing her in the crowd. He waved at her, bringing her attention towards them. 

Colby finally noticed who they looked for, catching a glimpse of her. He felt his body heat up, flustered at her beauty. She was gorgeous, her hair running down her shoulders and her smile radiating through the crowds of people passing, he was surprised he didn't notice her earlier. She'd look like your typical medium, having a great style in all black, wearing an oversized band shirt, black sleeves underneath that hung over her jeans. 

"Hey guys!" Y/n greeted them, hugging Sam then moving over to Colby.

Colby felt his heart flutter and couldn't help but take her scent in, practically intoxicating. As she pulled away from her embrace, Colby couldn't help but feel disappointed. She offered them a smile and a hand with their luggage, but they declined the help. 

They moved their things into her car, ready for the trip over to their hotel. On the way there, she played music that practically matched Colby's taste. He felt as if he found his soulmate then and there. 

Sam kept asking her about herself and getting to know her. 

"So tell me, what type of medium are you?" Sam wondered. "If you don't mind me asking, of course." 

"It's okay, I like answering these, well, it's weird but I sorta have different types of abilities," Y/n began, steering the wheel. "I can let spirits communicate through me, so I'll channel them into my consciousness, letting them talk." She answered. 

"Other abilities? like what?" Colby asked, curious as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Well, I'm sure you have other mediums with my ability to see beyond what you guys can see," Y/n chuckled, amused at their curiosity. "I sort of have a heightened sense and I can see actual spirits walking around and hear whispers." 

"You know, I think you're the only medium we met who can just surrender themselves to let spirits talk through them." Sam chuckled. 

"Oh well I don't do it often, only with spirits I trust." Y/n added. 

As she finished her sentence, they had finally made their way to their hotel. It didn't take long before the three of them were inside the room, talking about random stuff. Colby couldn't help but watch her as she laughed and moved around the room. 

"What's so interesting about Nebraska?" Sam joked, starting a conversation. 

"If i'm being honest," Y/n sighed. "Nothing." She laughed. 

"Oh, that's great," Sam laughed back. "I don't want to get into the video already, but tell me, why is Nebraska so significant with orphanages?" He continued, pulling out his camera and beginning to record. 

"Well, do you guys know about the Orphan Train Movement?" She asked, leaning back on the bed she sat on. 

"No, never really heard of it." Colby replied, shaking his head. 

"Well, Nebraska is like the center of all the railways, so in the 1850's all the way until the 1920's, people would send orphans on the train from like the crowded East Coast cities into the midwest, mostly Nebraska," Y/n explained. "So, we used to have a lot of orphanages just like Haven Orphanage." She continued. 

"Really? that's really interesting." Sam commented, facing the camera towards her. 

"Yeah, again I don't really have much knowledge about it but that's what I know," Y/n corrected. "Hopefully the guide will explain it better." 

Y/n decided it's best if she lets them settle in, letting her also collect herself and prepare for their investigation. she said her goodbyes before leaving. She had to admit, she had a crush on Colby for a while. But she didn't want to feed her delusions and say he felt the same, telling herself he was probably being friendly. 

When she had left, Sam turned over to colby. 

"You so have a crush on her." Sam laughed. 

Colby turned red, covering his face, "Shut up." He muttered. 

"Hey, I just never seen you so quiet around a girl," Sam admitted. "Come on, you gonna make a move?" Sam enticed him.

Colby sighed for a second, looking at his best friend, "I-i don't know, she's only being nice, I don't want to embarrass myself and get rejected." 

"Really? Colby Brock getting rejected? Haven't seen that happen yet." Sam teased. 

Colby rolled his eyes, playfully. "Whatever, let’s just focus on this investigation for now." he averted the subject. 

Sam just gave him a look, as if it wasn't over just yet. He agreed to his friend's idea, pulling out his notes and taking more notes. 

Six o'clock came a lot earlier than they hoped, making their way to the orphanage. As they pulled into the building, they noticed y/n already waiting out front for them. Colby felt his heart beat a bit faster seeing her there. He examined her outfit and her demeanor, admiring her. 

They began making their way up towards the front doors, seeing the guide also there. It didn't take long for y/n to turn around and notice them, putting a smile on her face and her heart to melt a bit seeing colby. 

"What's up guys?" Y/n offered them a smile. "I was just talking to Morgan here about the building." She pointed towards the other woman. 

They greeted their guide, offering a warm greeting. They all introduced themselves, joking and laughing a bit. 

"Well, are you guys ready for the tour?" Morgan asked them. 

"Yeah, for sure lead the way." Sam nodded, following her. 

"Well this building was built in 1863, it was originally an orphanage named Haven Orphanage for Moved or Unwanted children," Morgan started, pointing towards the building. "It's said to be haunted, due to cruel conditions like overcrowding and shortage of supplies. The government didn't really want to pay for any orphanages, unfortunately causing it to be absolute hell for the children and staff." She continued, clasping her hands together. 

"Yeah, off the bat I already feel like some negative energy," Y/n motioned with her hands towards the building. "Like I feel a negative spirit lurking." 

"Yeah, so that you're feeling is Ruby," Morgan clarified. "She was one of the staff, she was very cruel to the children and it's rumored she sold her soul to the devil for the place to keep standing, but unfortunately she passed away from unknown causes." She continued. 

Everyone looked around, widened eyes painted on their faces. 

"Wow, okay so more demons." Sam chuckled.

"Well, it's not all bad energy," Morgan stopped him. "There's a lot of children spirits in here, they're rather playful and kind. But they do like to mess with you so don't get too scared from it." She added. 

"Wait, why am I kinda excited," y/n replied, covering her smile. "I never talked to children's spirits before." She admitted. 

"Well, it'll be a new experience for everyone then." Morgan chuckled, "Shall we start the tour then?" She suggested. 

The group agreed, making their way into the building. Immediately everyone looked around the place, noticing the different decor and admiring the ceilings. 

"So, as you can see, the building has a lot of character to it," Morgan pointed out. "But don't be fooled, there are a lot of dark corners of this building." 

Aas they went deeper into the hallway, they looked around seeing the admission office and different classrooms. 

"This was the classrooms, they would attend school here but the staff wasn't very kind," Morgan began. "A lot of the staff would use punishments that were unorthodox, like paddling which was spanking with a wooden paddle." She added. 

Colby looked over to Sam, "Maybe I should be punished." He whispered, causing y/n and Sam to laugh a bit. 

They soon wandered up the stairs, examining the stained glass on their way up. Y/n smiled as her eyes traveled around the beautiful structure, while Colby couldn’t help but watch her move and how beautiful she was. 

When they made their way up, they noticed the many bedrooms with bunk beds. As y/n began following the guide, she heard a loud metallic thump in one of the rooms. She jumped a bit, surprised by the sound. Unexpectedly, she jumped back into Colby's arms, causing her to become embarrassed. 

Colby's hands were wrapped around her for a moment before y/n, releasing her when she cleared her throat and looked down flustered. “Sorry, that just scared the shit out of me.” She muttered, placing a hand on her chest. 

“That's probably Billy,” Morgan mentioned, pointing towards one of the darkened rooms. “He likes to mess with tourists, he’s a prankster but he’s harmless.” She added. 

Y/n couldn't help but notice a small figure move out of her eyeline, causing her to swing her head towards the room. The guys followed her swift movements, examining the dark room. 

"Did you see something?" Colby asked her, looking back at her. 

Y/n tried focusing her eyes into the darkness, but nothing came up, "Could've sworn I saw something..." She whispered. 

As Sam pointed the camera towards the darkness, he zoomed into the room. "Well we definitely have to come back here for something," he commented. 

As they continued making their way further into the building, Colby couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was beautiful at every angle, he wanted to protect her from anything and everything. Y/n noticed his gaze, being a medium and all, and turned to him. Colby quickly averted his gaze off her, flustered yet again and awkwardly kept walking. 

Y/n blushes as well, trying to rationalize. She cleared her throat as she began making her way towards one of the bedrooms. 

"This was one of the girls' rooms," Morgan explained, pointing towards the different bedsheets of muted pinks and purples. "This doesn't have much activity besides a little girl who likes to sing from time to time, she's a rather sweet ghost." 

"Sam, this one should be your favorite," Colby teases, mentioning the Sallie house. 

Sam laughs, facing his friend, "I think I'm okay without another attachment." 

They all exchanged laughs as they averted their attention towards the sudden faint sounds of footsteps, followed by the rocking chair in the corner slowly creaking as it rocked back and forth. 

They went silent, looking at each other and back at the scene. But the chair just ceases its movements. 

"Okay, what the actual fuck." Colby whispered, covering his mouth in shock. 

Y/n felt a cold touch travel down her arm, as if someone swiped her arm. She looked around, trying to find the source. She felt a faint whisper in her ear, a name. 

"That was the little girl, her name is Beth if you would like to talk to her." Morgan suggested.

Y/n's jaw flew down, realizing what the name was. "You're kidding," she gasped. "I literally heard like a whisper or something with that name." She announced, crossing her arms as she felt the cold begin to engulf her. 

Sam and Colby turned to her, eyes widened in surprise. 

"Oh my god, maybe Beth wants to talk or something?" Sam considered, pointing the camera towards her direction. 

Y/n nodding, agreeing. She had experiences like this, but never this strong. She felt like her body was vibrating and buzzing with the constant movements and voices. 

"Are you okay?" Colby asked, furrowing his brows as he noticed her body shake. 

Y/n nodded slightly, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Yeah just there's so much happening right now, I keep hearing different types of voices and seeing figures around the corner of my eye." She mentioned. 

Colby's eyes washed over with concern, having the need to protect her. "Did you want to take a break or anything?" He asked her, worry coated in his voice. 

Y/n smiled at his empathy, "I'll be okay, just my body is buzzing a bit, but thank you." She breathed out, flustered at his concern. 

Before they knew it, they had made their way to the darkest part of the building. The basement was where supposedly a lot of the children died from cruel punishments, creating a lot of angry spirits. 

"Okay, so before we make our way around," Morgan began, turning back to the group of people. "There is a lot of negative energy here, they will try to hurt you. People always leave here with scratches and even have been pushed off the stairs going to the basement." She warned. 

The group felt tense, nervous about what comes next. When they entered the dimly lit room, they could barely navigate through the dark basement as they stayed close to each other. 

Y/n heard something fall, causing her to jump forward and instinctively grab the person's hand. That person being Colby. She blushed as she realized who it was, clearing her throat and mumbling an apology. 

"It's okay," Colby assured, smiling but she couldn't see it. "You can hold my hand if you want, I'm sorta shitting bricks right now too." He chuckled, stretching out his hand to her. 

She felt her heart skip a beat, hesitantly reaching for his hand. As she grabbed onto his hand, she felt her body rush with electricity. Y/n was glad that the room was too dark to see her flustered face. 

"Alright guys," Morgan sighed, stopping under a lightbulb. "This was where most of the children actually died." She mentioned. 

Y/n felt a wave of sadness coarse through her body, her lip beginning to quiver. Colby looked over to her, seeing the glisten of her tears. 

"Hey, you okay?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with worry. 

"Y-Yeah, I just felt this wave of sadness," she sniffled in response. "like I feel them telling me something so horrible happened to them." She added. 

Colby felt sad to see her cry, wanting to wipe her tears away. Instead he gripped onto her hand firmly, reassuring her. 

Morgan nodded at her comment, "It was actually gruesome," she began. "The kids would be punished here, starved, even beaten. A lot of that resulted in death." 

Everyone in the group frowned, so much remorse for the poor children's lives that were lost. 

"But," Morgan cut in. "Like I mentioned before, there is an adult spirit who haunts here, Ruby. It's rumored she was murdered down here or the other theory was she was pushed out of one of the windows." 

They thought for a moment, feeling a cold chill rush through them causing them to shiver for a bit. 

"Did you guys feel that?" Sam asked, pointing the camera towards them, ignoring their grasp on each other. 

The two nodded, their eyes darting throughout the basement. 

"Man, I don't like the vibe I'm getting here." Y/n whispered, trying to inch closer to Colby. 

Colby agreed, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her closer to his body. He felt so protective of her, wanting her to be safe. 

"Yeah, we don't want to be down here for too long," Morgan began making her way back to the exit. "People get seriously hurt here." She added, sternly. 

Y/n's eyes widened, looking up at Colby. He looked back once he noticed her glance and smiled as he guided her towards the exit. 

Once they exited the creepy basement, y/n let go as she thought Colby wouldn't want Sam to see their hold, causing Colby to become disappointed. 

Morgan led the group towards the front of the building, Y/n walking alongside with her as Sam and Colby hung behind them. 

"Dude, I saw you guys down there," Sam smirked, grabbing Colby's attention. "You know, holding hands," He teased. 

Colby rolled his eyes as he flustered at his best friend's teasing, "So what?" He murmured. 

"Admit it, you like her, don't you?" Sam asked, wiggling his brows slightly. 

This only caused Colby to get more embarrassed, looking away from his best friend. 

Sam only chuckled, reaching the doors to the building as they parted ways with Morgan. They thanked her, offering her farewells, and advice. 

As soon as Morgan left, the group looked at each other. Y/n tried to avoid her gaze on Colby, not wanting to seem desperate for his attention. 

"Alright, I think we should use the spirit box," Sam began, rummaging through his bag. "And I have some toys that might interest the kids." Sam added as he pulled out various children's toys and the infamous Alice box. 

"Okay, sounds good." Colby agreed, nodding with the plan. 

Y/n bit her lip, trying to figure out something she heard in the building. She figured it was nothing, brushing it off slightly. They began making their way back towards the doors they just exited, seeing the dark hallways stretch down. 

Y/n froze for a moment, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Soon, she started making her way towards the two who had already made it halfway down the hallway as they discussed plans. 

She tried to catch up to them, but stopped when she saw it. She stopped at the intersection of hallways, staring down the much larger hallway. 

Colby looked behind him, seeing y/n stuck in a trance like state. He made his way back to her, nudging her to see what's wrong. 

"Y-You guys don't see it don't you?" She whispered, her eyes glued on the other side of the barren hallway. 

Colby and Sam looked over to where she was staring, unable to locate the problem. 

"No, Y/n we only see the hallway." Colby shook his head, worry creeping into his skin. 

As Sam tried to begin his sentence, Y/n quickly cut him off. 

"Holy fuck, that thing just moved." Y/n whispered, her hands shaking a bit. 

"What? What did you see?" Sam asked, looking around the hallway. 

Y/n turned to the two, her eyes widened slightly. 

"Okay, as I was about to make my way towards you guys," y/n explained. "I stopped because I heard this whisper, almost telling me to come over here kinda. So I look down the hallway and I see this fucking thing, it was like tall and black and clothed with some weird black clothes, it kept staring at me even when you guys came over. Then it grinned and walked away." She elaborated, her voice beginning to shake as she covered her mouth a bit with her shaking hand. 

Sam and Colby look at each other for a moment, worried. 

"Yeah, okay so already a lot of shit is happening." Sam sighed, feeling a pressure build up in his chest. 

Colby nodded, licking his lips as he began to speak, "let's just get this investigation over with so we can leave," he suggested. "Are you okay to keep going?" He asked Y/n, his brows furrowed. 

Y/n nodded her head, exhaling a deep breath out. "Yeah, just that freaked me out but i'm sure it's nothing." She convinced herself. 

With that, the three made their way to one of the bedrooms, trying to contact one of the nicer spirits. 

"Okay guys, so we have the new Alice box," Sam pointed the camera to the machine. "It's like a spirit box, reading through channels and frequencies so the spirits talk through it." He explained. 

Y/n looked around the room a bit, examining the surroundings well. Colby couldn't help but stare at her face, watching as her eyes darted around. Y/n looked over to Colby's glance and Colby smiled a bit, causing her to blush yet again. She's lost track of how many times she caught him doing things that she keeps reading into. Clearly he's being friendly, but really how friendly?

"Okay let's ask some questions for the little girls that stay in this room." Sam began, clasping his hands after he turned on the small device.

"...hello?..." 

A female voice rang throughout the room, the echo bouncing off the walls. Y/n furrowed her brows, pulling out her notebook as she began to scribble words that came up in her mind. 

She stopped at the word, she looked down and thought of it for a moment. She noticed something, a pair of eyes on her notebook. But it wasn't a spirit, just colby snooping. She smiled a bit, turning her notebook over to Colby. 

He looked at her then lined the pieces of paper with the random ink on letters and drawings. As he read the words, suddenly the Alice box answered. 

"...chair..."

Colby's jaw hung open, looking over to Sam and the paper. Y/n's actions mimicking his. 

"Dude," y/n gasped, displaying her notebook to Sam and the camera. "I wrote that not even 2 minutes earlier, Colby saw it too." She explained. 

Sam’s mouth hung open a bit, shocked. "No fucking way." 

But before they could say anything else, the Alice box spoke again. 

"...girl..." 

"I mean, this is the girl's room." Y/n explained. The two guys nodded, still confused what the spirits are trying to say. 

"...man... hallway..." 

Y/n froze, goosebumps running down her body. "Oh my god, it's talking about that thing I saw." She whispered. 

"Do you know the thing that Y/n saw in that hallway?" Colby asked into the open air. 

The Alice box stayed silent for a moment, occasionally spewing random words that didn't make sense. But as they were about to turn it off, it spoke. 

"... can't say..." 

"Can't say? Why can't you say anything?" Y/n asked yet again, scribbling into her notebook. 

"...won't..." "...let us..." 

"He maybe has a hold on them," Sam suggested, rubbing his chin slightly. "It's possible it's a demon." He added. 

"...evil..." 

They looked at each other and didn't say anything for a moment, Y/n turning her notebook over to reveal the word written on the paper. evil. 

Then the rem pod near the door started going off, a chill running down Y/n's back as the room became cold.

"Okay, this is actually so freaky," Sam chuckled a bit, pointing the camera towards the door. "The rem pod went off after Y/n wrote evil AND the Alice box said evil." 

Y/n sat up, ears perking up a bit as she listened carefully to the air. "Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but the room went completely freezing, and I feel something negative in here." She blurted out. 

"Yeah, I feel the cold," Sam agreed. "Could it be that thing you saw earlier?" He inquired. 

Y/n shook her head, "No, that was like paralyzing fear," She noted. "This one.. it's just mad." She whispered out. 

Concern painted on Colby's expression, clearly reading her body language as uncomfortable. 

"Hey, maybe let's end it in this room," Colby proposed. "A lot more places to investigate." 

Sam nodded, reaching for the equipment as he turned it off. Y/n sat up, but quickly recoiled forward. Colby noticed it, confused. 

"You okay?" he asked, helping her stabilize herself. 

Y/n looked around as Colby held onto her arm. "Y-Yeah, just something pushed me," She answered. "like I was standing up, and I felt a shove on my upper back." 

The group quickly exited the room, making their way down to the basement. They were going to explore more of the place, but seeing how y/n kept being targeted clearly for her abilities they weren't comfortable making her go through it. 

The feeling of uneasiness returned, entering the frigid basement. The dim light still remained on, barely illuminating the space around them. 

"Alright guys, we're going to the basement," Sam mentioned into the camera, showing the dark room. "We're going to do the Estes method down here, Colby is going to do it today." he spun the camera towards Colby's direction, zooming into his face. 

"Wow, face of excitement right there." Y/n joked, causing Colby to break his monotone expression to light up with laughter. 

She felt her heart jump, hearing his laughter brightening her spirit up. She could listen to it all day if she could. Colby soon sat on the barren concrete floor, Y/n handing him the blindfold followed with the headphones. His hands brushing up against her, followed by a smirk on his face. 

She cleared her throat, backing away from him. 

"Alright Colby, can you hear us?" Sam asked, testing out the volume. Colby doesn't say anything, listening to the random static coming through the headphones. 

"Okay, whoever dwells in this basement, are you the supposed member of staff that passed away?" Sam questioned, awaiting Colby's answer. 

"Perhaps." Colby replied. 

"So it's a bit sassy." Y/n chuckled a bit followed by Sam's chuckles. 

"Well, is it true you did rituals to keep this place running?" Sam added. 

Colby stayed silent for a moment, trying to listen carefully to the voices ringing through. 

"Force." Colby blurted. "protect," he continued. 

They looked at each other, trying to decipher what was spoken. 

"What did you do to protect this building?" Y/n asked, furrowing her brows. 

"Colby." Colby said. "Crush." 

Sam looked over to y/n and smirked a bit, "I think it's speaking for you." 

Y/n smacked Sam playfully, a blush covering her face. 

"Kissing," Colby furrowed his brow under his mask. "Tree." 

Sam bursted into laughter, nearly dropping to the floor. Y/n covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Colby, still oblivious to what's happening, is still spewing out words. Sam tapped him, alerting him to pull out of his trance. 

Colby removed his blindfold, followed by the headphones. He noticed Sam's laughter and Y/n's embarrassed face behind her hands. 

"What? What happened?" Colby asked, curious why Sam was practically rolling on the floor. 

Sam calmed down, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “It said kiss and then tree,” Sam coughed a bit. “It was teasing you.” He pointed towards Colby. 

Colby's face became warm, blushing until his face was red, “Yeah real funny, Sam.” Colby muttered with a sigh. 

Y/n cleared her throat, cheeks still flaming hot. "Well, let's just continue what we came here for." Y/n grumbled, her arms folded on her chest. 

Sam wiped his eyes, cooling down from his laughter. "Wow, that was too good."

Sam began making his way towards the stairs, leaving Y/n and Colby behind his trail.

"Sorry about him." Colby let out with a sigh, rubbing his neck. 

Y/n smiled up at him slightly, "I-Its okay, I know he's just teasing." She blushed. 

Colby simply nodded, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. It wasn't too long before they had explored the whole place, investigating where they could. But then the time to sleep in the actual building came, which y/n began overthinking about. She knew she agreed to sleep alone, but she was too scared after her encounter with that thing in the hallway. 

"Alright guys, it's time for us to split up and sleep in separate rooms," Sam urged. "We figured with the whole Y/n seeing the spirit in the hallway, we're going to sleep in rooms next to each other just to ensure safety." Sam explained. 

Y/n fiddled with her fingers slightly, anxiety beginning to heighten. She bit her lip as they began setting up camp in their rooms. She grabbed her sleeping bag, making their way towards one of the girl's rooms. her heart began beating against her chest as she sat on top of her sleeping bag, listening to every crack and noise around her. 

She rubbed her face, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. But then she heard a faint knocking on the window directly behind her. She just stared at the moonlight that illuminated through the glass in front of her. She quickly sat up, quickly walking towards the closed door. As she opened the door, Colby's chest pressed up against hers. She yelped as she got freighted by the unexpected visit. 

Y/n pressed her hand onto her chest, trying to calm herself down. "Holy shit Colby, you scared the fuck out of me!" She lightly slapped his chest. 

Colby chuckled a bit, trying to lighten up the mood, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep, plus I knew this was your first time staying alone in a haunted place so I wanted to keep you some company." He admitted. 

Y/n felt her heart softly flutter, touched by his gesture, "Yeah, I sorta kept hearing things, I was gonna go to you." She confessed. 

Colby smiled, glad she found comfort in his presence, "Mind if I sleep in the same room as you then?" He requested. 

"Not at all," Y/n quickly replied, walking back to her sleeping bag onto the floor. Colby followed, his pillow and sleeping bag in his hands. "I wonder if Sam is shitting himself alone." She chuckled as she hugged her knees close to her chest. 

Colby sat next to her as he laid out his temporary bed, chuckling at the comment, "He'll be fine," He waved off, "After he laughed at us,he can sleep by himself." 

Y/n laughed a bit, looking down towards the floor. Colby couldn't help but stare at her, admiring her features in the moonlight. She noticed his gaze, moving her attention back towards him. 

"W-What?" She asked him, confused. 

"Nothing," Colby shrugged. "You're just really beautiful." He whispered. 

She flustered as she looked away as her cheeks painted with a deep color, "Oh, stop it." She muttered, playing with her fingernails. 

Colby's fingers landed on her jaw, moving her to face back towards him. She looked up into his eyes, seeming to get pulled closer towards him. 

"Well, it's true," He added, but couldn't help but lean towards her lips as his eyes kept glancing to her eyes and back to her lips. "I couldn't stop staring at you all day," he revealed. 

She felt her body heat up, unknowingly pressing closer to him. "Well, maybe I knew," She replied, feeling his hand on top of hers. "Maybe I was staring too." 

With that, Colby's lips landed on her. She gladly accepted as her lips pieced together perfectly. Colby's hand laced with hers, like previously that night. He lightly held her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

But soon, Colby pulled away, leaving them panting as they rested each other's forehead on one another. Y/n couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit, causing Colby to wonder. 

"What?" He wondered. 

"Nothing," She added, rubbing her thumb on his hand. "Just, there were at least three little girls in here giggling." She confessed. 

Colby let out a laugh, pulling away as he looked around the room, "Well, you guys should give us some space." He announced into the room. 

The next morning, the sun began to shine through their window. The rays of light hitting their eyes, causing their eyes to flutter open. Y/n was the first one to notice him, seeing his wide smile on his face. Sam pointed the camera at the two, giggling as he noticed her to wake up. 

Y/n looked over next to her, noticing the boy clung onto her as he laid onto her chest. She threw her pillow towards Sam, causing him to laugh loudly which woke up Colby. Colby rubbed his eyes, adjusting his vision to the bright room. 

"What the-." Colby grumbled, looking up towards y/n's tired face. 

"Dude, how long have you guys been cuddling?" Sam exclaimed, putting away the camera. 

"Shut up sam." Colby muttered, his head landing onto his pillow. y/n sat up, covering her face. 

"Sam, it's too early for this, can you please leave us alone." Y/n groaned.

"Fine, fine I'll let you love birds be." Sam teased, wiggling his brows a bit before he shut the door behind him as he left. 

Y/n looked over to Colby who was laying on his side. She smiled a bit, still exhausted. He returned the smile, still amazed by her beauty. 

"Does this mean you'd go out with me? or do you already know that I was gonna ask you out?" He finally asked. 

Y/n chuckled dryly, "Colby, I’m a medium, not psychic," She rolled her eyes playfully. "But yes, I will go out with you."

[artsekey]

Disney's Wish

Look, Disney's Wish has been universally panned across the internet, and for good reason.

It’s just…kind of okay.

 When we sit down to watch a Disney film—you know, from the company that dominated the animation industry from 1989 to (arguably) the mid 2010’s and defined the medium of animation for decades—we expect something magnificent. Now, I could sit here and tell you everything that I thought was wrong with Wish, but if you’re reading this review, then I imagine that you’ve already heard the most popular gripes from other users across the web. So, let me focus in:

The biggest problem with Wish—in fact, the only problem with Wish—is Magnifico.

Whoa, that’s crazy! There’re so many things about Wish that could’ve been better! The original concept was stronger! The music was bad--

I hear you, I do. But stay with me here, okay? Take my hand. I studied under artists from the Disney renaissance. I teach an adapted model of Disney’s story pipeline at a University level. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting degrees in this, and I am about to dissect this character and the narrative to a stupid degree.

First, we need to understand that a good story doesn’t start and end with what we see on the screen. Characters aren’t just fictional people; when used well, characters are tools the author uses (or in this case, the director) to convey their message to the audience. Each character’s struggle should in some way engage with the story’s message, and consequently, the story’s theme. Similarly, when we look at our protagonist and our antagonist, we should see their characters and their journeys reflected in one-another.

So, what went wrong between Asha & Magnifico in terms of narrative structure?

Act I

In Wish, we’re introduced to our hero not long into the runtime—Asha. She’s ambitious, caring, and community-oriented; in fact, Asha is truly introduced to the audience through her love of Rosas (in “Welcome to Rosas”).  She’s surrounded by a colorful cast of friends who act as servants in the palace, furthering her connection with the idea of community but also telling us that she’s not of status, and then she makes her way to meet Magnifico for her chance to become his next apprentice.

Quick aside: I'm not going to harp on Asha as a character in the context of Disney's overall canon. Almost every review I've seen covers her as a new addition to Disney's ever-growing repertoire of "Cute Quirky Heroines", and I think to be fair to Asha as an actor in the narrative, it serves her best to be weighed within the context of the story she's part of.

As Asha heads upstairs for her interview, we're introduced to the man of the hour: Magnifico. He lives in a tower high above the population of Rosas, immediately showing us how he differs from Asha; he’s disconnected from his community. He lives above them. He has status. While the broader context of the narrative wants us to believe that this also represents a sense of superiority, I would argue that isn’t what Magnifico’s introduction conveys; he's isolated.

Despite this distance, he does connect with Asha in “At All Costs”. For a moment, their goals and values align. In fact, they align so well that Magnifico sees Asha as someone who cares as much about Rosas as he does, and almost offers her the position.

… Until she asks him to grant Saba’s wish.

This is framed by the narrative as a misstep. The resonance between their ideals snaps immediately, and Magnifico says something along the line of “Wow. Most people wait at least a year before asking for something.”

This disappointment isn't played as coming from a place of power or superiority. He was excited by the idea of working with someone who had the same values as he did, who viewed Rosas in the same way he does, and then learns that Asha’s motivations at least partially stem from a place of personal gain.

Well, wait, is that really Asha's goal?

While it's not wholistically her goal, it's very explicitly stated & implied that getting Saba's wish granted is at least a part of it. The audience learns (through Asha's conversation with her friends before the interview) that every apprentice Magnifico has ever had gets not only their wish granted, but the wishes of their family, too!  Asha doesn’t deny that this is a perk that she’s interested in, and I don't think this is a bad thing.

So, Is Asha’s commitment to Saba selfless, or selfish? I’m sure the director wanted it to seem selfless, wherein she believes her family member has waited long enough and deserves his wish granted, but we can’t ignore the broader context of Asha essentially trying to… skip the line.

Then, we get our first point of tension. Magnifico reveals his “true colors” in snapping at Asha, telling her that he “decides what people deserve”. This is supposed to be the great motivator, it’s meant to incite anger in the audience—after all, no one gets to decide what you deserve, right? But unfortunately for the integrity of the film and the audience's suspension of disbelief, at least part of Magnifico’s argument is a little too sound to ignore:

Some wishes are too vague and dangerous to grant. Now, there’s visual irony here; he says this after looking at a 100 old man playing the lute. The idea that something so innocuous could be dangerous is absurd, and the audience is meant to agree.

... But we’ve also seen plenty of other wishes that might be chaotic—flying on a rocket to space, anyone? The use of the word vague is important, too—this implies wording matters, and that a wish can be misinterpreted or evolve into something that is dangerous even if the original intent was innocuous. His reasoning for people forgetting their wish (protecting them from the sadness of being unable to attain their dreams) is much weaker, but still justifiable (in the way an antagonist’s flawed views can be justified). The film even introduces a facet of Magnifico’s backstory that implies he has personal experience with the grief of losing a dream (in the destruction of his home), but that thread is never touched on again.

              What is the audience supposed to take from this encounter? If we’re looking at the director’s intent, I’d argue that we’ve been introduced to a well-meaning young girl and a king who’s locked away everyone’s greatest aspiration because he believes he deserves to have the power to decide who gets to be happy.

              But what are we shown? Our heroine, backed by her friends, strives to be Magnifico’s apprentice because she loves the city but also would really like to see her family's wishes granted. When this request is denied and she loses the opportunity to be his apprentice, she deems Magnifico’s judgement unfair & thus begins her journey to free the dreams of Rosas’ people.

              In fairness, Magnifico doesn’t exhibit sound judgement or kindness through this act of the film. He’s shown to be fickle, and once his composure cracks, he can be vindictive and sharp. He's not a good guy, but I'd argue he's not outright evil. He's just got the makings of a good villain, and those spikes of volatility do give us a foundation to work off of as he spirals, but as we’ll discuss in a bit, the foreshadowing established here isn’t used to the ends it implies.

              While I was watching this film, I was sure Magnifico was going to be a redeemable villain. He can’t connect with people because he's sure they value what he provides more than they value him (as seen in “At All Costs” and the aftermath), and Asha’s asking for more was going to be framed as a mistake. His flaw was keeping his people too safe and never giving them the chance to sink or swim, and he's too far removed from his citizens to see that he is appreciated. Asha does identify this, and the culmination of her journey is giving people the right to choose their path, but the way Magnifico becomes the “true” villain and his motivations for doing so are strangely divorced from what we’re shown in Act I.  

Act II:

His song, “This is the Thanks I Get!?” furthers the idea that Magnifico’s ire—and tipping point—is the fact that he thinks the people he’s built a kingdom for still want more. Over the course of this 3:14 song, we suddenly learn that Magnifico sends other people to help his community and doesn’t personally get involved (we never see this outside of this song), and that he’s incredibly vain/narcissistic (he's definitely a narcissist). I think feeling under-appreciated is actually a very strong motivation for Magnifico as a character-turning-villain, and it works very well. It’s justified based on what we’ve seen on screen so far: he feels under-appreciated (even though he’s decidedly not—the town adores him), he snaps and acts irrationally under stress (as seen with his outburst with Asha), and he’s frustrated that people seem to want more from him (again, as seen with his conversation with Asha in Act I).

              But then… he opens the book.

Ah, the book. As an object on screen, we know that it's filled with ancient and evil magic, well-known to be cursed by every relevant character in the film, and kept well-secured under lock and key. But what does it stand for in the context of the narrative's structure? A quick path to power? We're never told that it has any redeeming qualities; Magnifico himself doesn't seem to know what he's looking for when he opens it. It feels... convenient.

I think it's also worth noting that he only turns to the book when he's alone; once again, the idea of connection and community rears it's ugly head! Earlier in the film, Amaya-- his wife-- is present and turns him away from taking that path. In her absence, he makes the wrong choice.

This decision could make sense; it contains powerful magic, and if it were framed in such a way that the people of Rosas were losing faith in Magnifico’s magic, as if what he can do might not be enough anymore after what they felt from Star, going for the book that we know contains spells that go above and beyond what he can already do would be logical. Along the lines of, “If they’re not happy with what I do for them, fine. I, ever the “martyr”, will do the unthinkable for you, because you want more.”

            It would keeps with the idea that Magnifico believes he's still trying to help people, but his motivation has taken his self-imposed pity party and turned it into resentment and spite.

 But, that’s not the case. Instead he talks about reversing that “light”, which has had no real negative or tangible consequences on Rosas. Everyone had a warm feeling for a few seconds. Again, it’s meant to paint him as a vain control freak, but… he hasn’t lost any power. The citizens of Rosas even assume the great showing of magic was Magnifico.

Act III

              Then, we get to the consequences of opening the book (and perhaps my biggest qualm with this film). The book is established as being cursed. Magnifico knows it, Asha knows it, and Amaya—who is introduced as loyal-- knows it. The characters understand his behavior is a direct result of the book, and search for a way to save him. This is only the focus of the film for a few seconds, but if you think about it, the fact that his own wife cannot find a way to free him of the curse he’s been put under is unbelievably tragic. Worse still, upon discovering there is no way to reverse the curse, Magnifico—the king who built the city & “protected it” in his own flawed way for what seems to be centuries—is thrown out by his wife. You know, the wife who's stood loyal at his side for years?

              It’s played for laughs, but there’s something unsettling about a character who’s clearly and explicitly under the influence of a malevolent entity being left… unsaved. If you follow the idea of Magnifico being disconnected from community being a driving force behind his arc, the end of the film sees him in a worse situation he was in at the start: truly, fully alone.

              They bring in so many opportunities for Magnifico to be sympathetic and act as a foil for Asha; he’s jaded, she’s not. He’s overly cautious (even paranoid), she’s a risk-taker. He turns to power/magic at his lowest point, Asha turns to her friends at her lowest point. Because this dichotomy isn’t present, and Magnifico—who should be redeemable—isn’t, the film is so much weaker than it could’ve been. The lack of a strong core dynamic between the protagonist and antagonist echoes through every facet of the film from the music to the characterization to the pacing, and I believe if Magnifico had been more consistent, the film would’ve greatly improved across the board.

I mean, come on! Imagine if at the end of the film, Asha—who, if you remember, did resonate with Magnifico’s values at the start of the film—recognizes that he's twisted his original ideals and urges him to see the value in the people he’s helped, in their ingenuity, in their gratitude, & that what he was able to do before was enough. Going further, asking what his wish is or was—likely something he’s never been asked— and showing empathy! We’d come full circle to the start of the film where Asha asks him to grant her wish.

Pushing that further, if Magnifico’s wish is to see Rosas flourish or to be a good/beloved king, he'd have the the opportunity to see the value in failing and how pursuing the dream is its own complex and valuable journey, and how not even he is perfect.

 The curse and the book (which, for the purposes of this adjustment, would need to be established as representing the idea of stepping on others to further your own goals/the fast way to success), then serve as the final antagonist, that same curse taking root in the people of Rosas who’ve had their dreams destroyed, and Asha works with the community to quell it. Asha’s learned her lesson, so has Magnifico, and the true source of evil in the film—the book—is handled independently. Magnifico steps back from his role as King, Amaya still ends up as Queen, and Asha takes her place as the new wish-granter.

This route could even give us the true “Disney villain” everyone’s craving; giving the book sentience and having it lure Magnifico in during “This is the Thanks I Get!?” leaves it as its own chaotic evil entity.

All in all, Magnifico's introduction paved a road to redemption that the rest of the film aggressively refused to deliver on, instead doubling down on weaker motivations that seem to appear out of thin air. Once the audience thinks, hey, that bad guy might have a point, the protagonist has to do a little more heavy lifting to convince us they're wrong.

Look at the big-bad-greats from Disney's library. There isn't a point in the Lion King where we pause and think, "Wait a second, maybe Scar should be the guy who rules the Pridelands." Ursula from the Little Mermaid, though motivated by her banishment from King Triton's Seas, never seems to be the right gal for the throne. Maybe Maleficent doesn't get invited to the princess's birthday party, but we don't watch her curse a baby and think, Yeah, go curse that baby, that's a reasonable response to getting left out.

What do they all have in common? Their motivation is simple, their goal is clear, and they don't care who they hurt in pursuit of what they want.

Magnifico simply doesn't fall into that category. He's motivated by the idea of losing power, which is never a clear or impactful threat. His goal at the start seems to be to protect Rosas, then it turns into protecting his own power, and then-- once he's corrupted-- he wants to capture Star. The problem is, there's no objective to put this power toward. Power for power's sake is useless. Scar craves power because he feels robbed of status. Ursula believes the throne is rightfully hers. Maleficent wanted to make a statement. Magnifico... well, I'm not really sure.

[dragon-ascent]

Hey uh... *tugs at your shirt* my mother said that you can tell me about how Morax/Zhongli is mischaracterised with attributes from a western dragon and what attributes he'd actually have as an eastern dragon if it's fine with yours... (please say yes I love hearing people yap)

Tell your mother she brought you to the right place! Keep in mind I'm not the messiah of dragon mythology; but everything is nonetheless based on medium-levels of research & informal conversations with Chinese friends of mine. Still, feel free to take everything I say with a grain of salt.

Let's start with traits belonging to many Western dragons, which people tend to mistakenly attribute to Zhongli when it comes to his portrayal in fan work or even discourse:

Cruel & domineering: I see this a LOT especially with like, Morax/Rex Lapis portrayals where he's this arrogant man asserting his dominance over his nation (or even his partner!!!) in quite forceful ways, even taking human sacrifices in exchange for peace. Pls guys, he wishes not for dominion, but he cannot watch the common folk suffer. Also, there's a difference between being dominant and being domineering! Yes, he's established his dominance, but with absolutely no arrogance or cruelty.

Brutish: I know Venti seems to say that he's a blundering, brutish buffoon in his voicelines, but in CN he simply says the Geo lord is a blockhead who doesn't understand human emotion - which at the time is fair! Zhongli was still learning about the intricacies of humanity, learning while ruling. More importantly, there is no mention of him being a brute in the original line, and nothing in the in-game text pertaining to Liyue history supports the claim. So, if you see someone claim he doesn't care for humanity, kindly punt them on my behalf.

Self-centered: A pet peeve of mine, really. Although many Western dragons are seen as selfish and greedy, putting their wants above all, we see that Zhongli is the exact opposite. He puts his people before himself, always focusing on protecting the land, even if it means he will have to make choices that will hurt him, such as having to seal his close companion Azhdaha (and possibly even slaying Guizhong with his own hands, but that's another can of worms which I won't get into because canon has not touched upon this yet).

Now, there are some characteristics of Western dragons that can be applied to him since they're common traits in Eastern dragons as well:

Being unforgiving: Western ones might be more vicious in this regard, but it's mellowed into his duty as the God of Contracts. We know that there is no mercy for people who breach contracts, regardless of whether they are friend or foe. In this regard specifically, we can say that he is indeed unforgiving.

Cunning tactician: Yes! Zhongli is a master strategist, outwitting foes and coming out on top. Yes, we hear about his sheer strength warding off adversaries, but he also uses his wit to his advantage. You can read one such story of his in the teapot furnishing description for the item "Dainty Fists."

Now let me highlight some Eastern dragon traits, some of which are canon to Zhongli's personality, and some of which I feel should be more popular when it comes to creating fan content of our beloved Li:

Wise: Even at baseline, I think we can all tell that Zhongli is a wise and philosophical individual. His wisdom is the result of the accumulation of millennia galore, and most of his appearances in-game involve imparting valuable advice or knowledge to other people. Besides this, it's important to note that before his 'death,' he was responsible for carrying out administrative tasks for the nation (as mentioned by Keqing). He provided commercial & fiscal suggestions every year during the Rite of Descension based on his own observations throughout the year, analyzing the best way forward for the next year to ensure a thriving nation.

Possessive of art & knowledge: While Western dragons are often portrayed hoarding gold and other worldly things, Eastern dragons have an appreciation for art & literature, collecting precious stories and tasteful artifacts that reflect civilization's progress. This is something Zhongli does, too, purchasing wonderfully-crafted items made by the people he's nurtured for centuries, and listening to stories.

Love of humanity: Eastern dragons LOVE humankind, as opposed to their Western counterparts. They even transform into humans of different cultures to try and understand them firsthand. Zhongli is known to shapeshift - I hope to write some pieces soon where he briefly assimilates into other nations' cultures to get closer to them! But other than that, it's safe to say he's taken on various human forms within Liyue itself to get to know his people on a deeper, more personal level.

Bonding with the special someone: Now here's where I get a bit more self-indulgent. Eastern dragons, when they find a human they really really like, will introduce this lovely soul to their vast aforementioned collection of art. The dragon may like to share stories with this beloved person, and even calligraph new ones together. Zhongli loves telling stories of course, but just think how wonderful it would be to sit with him, brush in hand, as he tenderly guides you to create a narrative together on carefully-maintained parchment saved for this very occasion - perhaps outlining anecdotes of his, or even adventures of yours. Things he'd like to immortalize on paper. This sharing of art is a very special thing for dragons to do, so it's practically a once-in-a-millennium activity for them!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Freewriting

Freewriting - the practice of writing without a prescribed structure, which means no outlines, cards, notes, or editorial oversight.

In freewriting, the writer follows the impulses of their own mind, allowing thoughts and inspiration to appear to them without premeditation.

Benefits of Freewriting

CREATIVE EXPRESSION

Many writers embrace freewriting as a way to find unexpected inspiration.

Outlines and notes can be wonderful for the purpose of staying on task, but they can sometimes stifle the creativity that comes from free association.

This is where freewriting comes in.

By starting with a rough idea, but without pre-planned details, a writer opens themself up to discovery and new found inspiration.

WRITER'S BLOCK

Writers who feel in a style rut, or who actively experience writer’s block, may benefit from a freewriting exercise as part of their formal writing process.

By forcing themselves to put words on a page, a writer may be able to alleviate their anxiety about writing and allow them to be more creative.

SPEED

Freewriting is typically faster than other forms of draft writing or outlining.

Because you are simply writing without a strict form to follow and without organizing your thoughts.

5 Tips and Techniques for Freewriting

JUST WRITE

Any writing coach or writing teacher will tell you that you must segregate your writing process from your editing process.

When it comes to freewriting, first drafts are repositories for every idea that comes to mind, however vague or tangential.

Don’t worry about word count, don’t worry about market viability, don’t worry about sentence structure, don’t even worry about spelling.

Unleash your creativity, let the ideas flow, and trust that there will be time for editing later.

This rule applies whether you wish to write a novel, a play, a short story, or a poem.

GATHER TOPICS BEFOREHAND

Freewriting doesn’t mean you write without having an idea about your topic/story.

Even the most committed freewriters tend to have some degree of a prewriting technique - they ruminate on their subject matter in a broad, general sense.

You don’t have to pre-plan details before you start writing, but it helps to know in the broadest sense what it is you think you’ll write about.

TIME YOURSELF

If you are experiencing writer’s block, commit to getting words down on the page within the first 60 seconds of writing.

Perhaps those first words will not yield anything, but think of them metaphorically as the first drops you put into the five gallon bucket that is your novel.

There is nothing to be gained by staring at a page or computer screen for any great period of time.

COMBINE FREEWRITING WITH TRADITIONAL OUTLINES OR NOTES

While it can be quite satisfying to say that one wrote an entire novel using freewriting techniques (as Jack Kerouac is said to have done with On the Road) what readers care about most is the quality of your writing.

With this in mind, start a project with a substantive freewriting session.

Depending on what you produce, you may want to use that content as fodder for a formal process that more closely conforms to the traditional rules of writing (outlines, notes, etc.).

Let that outline or set of notes guide the remainder of your writing on the project.

Remember, too, that you can always toggle back to freewriting at any point.

BRING IDEAS TO YOUR SESSIONS

Some writers, particularly poets, begin sessions with no ideas or themes they plan to tackle—they simply begin writing with the first word or phrase that comes to mind, and then they let the process unfold from there.

While you can work toward this point, if you’re new to the medium of writing and are seeking to unleash the writer within, plan your freewriting sessions when you have a strong idea of your story or theme.

The most effective writing has thematic or narrative consistency, and starting with a small germ of an idea may help you achieve that consistency.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x Reader (no pronouns used)

SUMMARY — James comes home just in time to help with dinner

WARNINGS — one almost dirty joke

NOTE — This is a request from the winner of my fic lottery @anayame The concept was so cute to write and I hope you like it!

Middle picture credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

It had been a while since James could confidently say he had come home to the smell of food being cooked in the kitchen. The sound of onions sizzling and sauces bubbling was like a fanfare welcoming and inviting him into the space. 

“Hey, you got back home just in time,” he heard your voice call from the kitchen. “I need an extra pair of hands, get in here.” 

“Normally when people say that it means the food is already finished cooking,” James teased, after having taken off his shoes and rolled up his sleeves so that you could put him to work. 

“And let you miss out on this fun?” you scoffed. “No way.” 

“Where do you need me?” he asked, coming to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Cause I’m more than happy to just keep doing this.” 

“Ease up, lover boy,” you chuckled. “Steak needs searing and I know how particular you get about your perfect medium.” 

“Steak, are we celebrating?” he asked. 

“Yes, the fact that you made it home on time for dinner,” you looked over at him to gauge his reaction and he couldn’t fight back a smile and shook his head. 

“How was work?” he asked, side-stepping your comment. 

“My arch-nemesis is an eight-year-old named Justin, how do you think work went?” you asked and James laughed at your response. “I’m kidding, it was alright, Justin has a cold so he wasn’t in class today.” 

“I’m excited to come in for career day and meet all these eight-year-olds that occupy every story you tell,” he said. “Who knows, maybe Justin will like me.” 

“I doubt it, he only likes his friend Asante and even then sometimes Asante still gets caught up in his whirlwind. Kind of like you and House actually.” 

“I do not get caught up in his whirlwind,” James looked at you, offended, and you looked over at him to ask if he was serious. 

“You lied to the police for him, you most definitely got caught up in it.” 

James opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but shut it seeing as you had made a very valid point. 

“How was your day at work?” you asked. “Did Cuddy finally approve that expansion for the playroom?” 

“Not quite yet, but I think I’m almost there. Maybe if I throw House under the bus when he goes behind her back that’ll sweeten the deal,” he thought to himself. 

“But at what cost, House is gonna fight back and you’re gonna regret every decision you ever made.” 

James weighed his options before giving up and saying he’d decide what to do about it later. 

You moved over to the stove where James was to pour some pureed tomatoes into the onions frying on the stove to make a sauce to go on the side with the vegetables and the steak. What you didn’t realize is that James, in his haste to turn down the heat on the stove, would knock the spoon out of your hand, making it fall in the dish and making the tomatoes splatter all over your shirt. 

“Oh my God,” James’ eyes went wide, seeing the splotch on your shirt. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I should have known having you in the kitchen would only result in disaster,” you teased, not at all upset by the mess. “It’s nothing a little TLC can’t take care of.” 

“Can I make it up to you?” James asked. “I know how much you liked that shirt.” 

You used your finger to scoop off some of the pureed tomato off your shirt and place it on his nose. 

“I don’t know, can you?” you asked with raised brows. 

James wiped the sauce off his nose before grabbing your sleeves and giving you a signal with his eyes for you to slip your arms out of them before he helped pull the shirt off your head without contaminating anything else, leaving you in a thin tank top. 

“I think you’re just making it up to yourself,” you laughed, looking down at what you were wearing. 

“If I were making it up to myself, I would have done this,” he took the spoon out of the tomato sauce and flicked it at you, now getting your undershirt dirty. “Oops.” 

“Oh, you’re so going to pay for that,” you shook your head and just to spite him you kept the tank top on even though it was dirty. 

By then the butter in James’ pan had melted and was beginning to bubble so he turned his attention back to the stove so that he could begin searing the steak. You cooked in tandem for a while, and once the steak was cooked James stole a few kisses from you, apologizing again for your shirt and you assured him he could take it off later if he really wanted to. 

“Do you want me to set the table?” James asked, after washing his hands and having set the steak off to the side. 

“That would be nice, it could be like a little home date,” you smiled while putting some potatoes in the oven to cook. 

You watched as James dug around the cupboards for a tablecloth and candles, carefully setting everything up on the dining room table so that it was just right. 

Slowly, one by one, the dishes made their way onto the table as they were ready and when everything was set up you looked down at yourself and wondered if maybe you were a bit underdressed. 

“Maybe I should change into something a little nicer,” you said while James lit the candles on the table. 

“Change, what for?” 

“I’ve got tomato all over my shirt, James. I thought that one was pretty obvious.” 

“No, I mean this is a home date, isn’t the whole point that it can be as messy as we want it to be?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t have to wear this tie,” he pointed to it as he came closer to you, prompting you to take it between your fingers and feel the fabric before helping him untie it and throw it off to the side. 

You unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and for good measure he took a spoon of the sauce and poured it on his shirt. 

“There, we match.” 

“And need to do a load of laundry after this,” you chuckled and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. “I love you, and I love cooking with you.” 

“Me too, to both of those things,” James agreed and you grinned before turning him around and pushing him in the direction of his seat, insisting that you were starving and needed to eat. “So, I was thinking,” James started while serving you some sides. 

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” 

“I was thinking,” he repeated. “Our anniversary is coming up. Do you want to do something special?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “We could both take a sick day,” you suggested. “Or a few, go up to Connecticut, rent a cabin.” 

“Cook all day,” James teased and you smiled. “I think that sounds like a great plan. We’ve always talked about doing something like that haven’t we?” 

“Yeah, it just…I don’t know, never seemed like the right time.” 

“You sure you won’t miss your kiddos too much?” he asked. 

“As much as I love them, a few days just the two of us is too enticing to pass up,” you sipped your drink. 

Eating dinner was not nearly as fun as cooking it together, but you both made do with what you could and James stories were nothing short of interesting especially when they included House and his team. 

“Alright, I think I’m stuffed now,” you leaned back in your seat. “But we should clean this up before I go into a food coma.” 

“I wash, you rinse?” James asked. 

“We have a dishwasher, James,” you chuckled. 

“I know, I just thought you might want to spend more time, but I know when my company isn’t wanted,” he feigned offence. 

“Awe, that’s actually really sweet,” you let out a small laugh. “Alright, I’ll suffer through dishwashing for you, Wilson.” 

“Just for that, you’re washing and I’m rinsing,” he gave you a look and you conceded, standing up from the table and clearing the leftovers before getting started on what was in the sink. 

“James, be careful with that, you’re accidentally spraying water all over me,” you nudged him with your hip. 

“Oh sorry I meant to actually spray water all over you,” he turned the moveable faucet in your direction and you gasped when the water hit your shirt. “I mean you did say we needed to do laundry.” 

“Is this why you wanted to wash dishes? To get me wet?-I heard it James don’t you dare make a comment,” you immediately amended and he fought back a chuckle. 

“I love you,” he smiled again and you wished he would wipe that stupid grin off of his face because it made it really hard to be annoyed with him. 

“You think you can just say I love you and it’s gonna make it all better?” you asked. “Cause you’re right, it is,” you grabbed his face with your soapy hands and pressed a kiss to his lips, sandwiched between smiles and chuckles. 

To say you both looked ridiculous by the end was an understatement, but James couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun at dinner and it became very clear that maybe he needed to come home a little early more often.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @/shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

[missterious-figure]

Part 1

(Just a little scenario I thought up. This takes place a little after y/n first gets Sun and Moon)

"Ring-a-ring!"

You groaned as you heard your phone vibrate with each blaring sound. What in your right mind were you thinking when you made this your ringtone? You opened one eye, looking to the window to gage the time. There was no light streaming through the curtains, so you could tell it was still dark outside. Lazily sitting up, you slapped at the dresser next to your bed a few times, catching nothing but an empty palm, before your hand landed on your phone. Just as you did, the ringing fell silent.

Giving a sleepy yawn, you used your thumb to tap the screen, and it turned on. You weren't prepared for the sudden flash of light in your eyes and, with a startled growl, you almost dropped your phone onto your lap. Squinting through the glaring light, you swipped down the brightness level. Good, now you could actually see. You pressed the missed calls icon on your phone. Who was calling so early in the morning? You froze at the number. Your dad.

You immediately put your phone back on the dresser and tucked yourself back into bed. You didn't have the energy to deal with him right now. He and your mom had always been so controlling, and were probably only calling to try to guilt trip you into abandoning your fish store and coming home to work at the family business. This business was a restaurant, and a shabby one at that. And they would probably try to pawn you off as a spouse to one of their friends' kids as well. You hated that they had literally already been thinking of ideas for your wedding when you were like, what, ten?

Anyway, enough about that. You didn't want to think about them anymore. Just knowing they were trying to contact you again made you tired. You conked out only a few minutes later, eager to let sleep take you back.

***

Later that morning, after you had gotten ready and eaten, you went down stairs to the floor bellow your home. Your fish shop. A while back, you had bought a cheap two story building that had been for sale on a small shopping district in town. Sure, there wasn't much space inside either floor, but you could make it work. You lived om the top floor and set up your store on the bottom one.

Rows of small to medium sized fish tanks lined the walls. There was a long island in the middle of the floor, and it also had its own row of tanks. A few bar lights hung from the ceiling, ready to be turned on. Your shop brightened up and you grabbed a few different shakers of fish food from behind the checkout counter near the front of the store. This was almost your favorite part of the day. Feeding the fish. You made sure to give the right type of food to the right type of fish. You just loved to see how excited they would get as you walked to each tank.

Soon your little task was done. It was almost time to open. You needed to do one last thing: check on the "fish" outside. You walked to the back of the store and out a door to your backyard. Three large ponds resided at the right side of your yard, a shed and a few potted plants taking up the left side. A tall wooden fence bordered it all the way around. Large bushes poked up from outside the fence.

A loud splash caught your attention. From the pond closest to you, two familiar eyes peeked out. You ran to the ponds edge and kneeled down. The eyes had disappeared. You peered into the water, excitedly calling out,

"Come on, Sunny! I know you're in there!"

As you finished your sentence, a large creature popped out of the water. It's yellow top half resembled a human with a circular face, pointed teeth and sharp claws. Instead of hair, it had seven white rays adorning it's face and orange, veil-like fins that flopped all the way to it's back. It also flopped over it's face. Even stranger, it had a white and blue fish tail starting from it's hips down.

"Sunny! There you are, boy!"

You giggled as the creature chattered, confused, as he looked in vain to find you. Reaching a hand out, you gently swept his fins up and out of his face. He squeaked excitedly, now that he finally could see you. He pulls his chest out of the water and onto the edge of the pond next to you, folding his arms underneath him as support. Moving into a sitting position, you cup his round face in you hands. In a friendly response, he purrs and leans into you soft touch.

"Hey, Sunny! Couldn't wait to see ya! You like getting pets, right buddy?"

He nudges your hands with his cheeks, as if asking for cheek rubs. Which, of course, you generously give. This is your favorite part of the day. Even though you haven't known him long, it feels like he is your very best friend. He seems to understand you, and even tries to comfort you when he notices you look sad. He warbles and gurgles at you, and you like to believe, personally, he's trying to really talk to you. He has even sung to you a handful of times. He always tries to do things specifically to make you smile and you know it. Nobody has ever been this kind to you. Not like Sun.

Sun suddenly jerked away from your hands, interrupting your thoughts. You pulled them back towards your chest, startled by Sun's odd behavior. He's looking towards the fence, a low growling emitting from his throat. You hope maybe he just heard a raccoon or stray cat. You nervously ask, as if you would get an answer,

"What is it, Sunny?"

Of course, there's no response as he keeps growling, eyes lazer-focused on the direction of whatever he heard.

Link to part 2 below!

[alexandraisyes]

Online Harassment

Online harassment has become an increasingly pervasive issue, affecting individuals across all platforms. From subtle microaggressions to outright threats, harassment takes many forms, each with its own set of consequences. In this post, we'll break down the different types of online harassment, their impact, and what can be done to address them.

Important vocabulary: Misinformation is false or inaccurate information—getting the facts wrong. Disinformation is false information that deliberately intends to mislead—intentionally misstating the facts.

Let's start with what does not count as harassment:

What Doesn't Count as Harassment

Constructive Criticism: Offering feedback aimed at improving someone's work or behavior. For example, a manager providing an employee with feedback on how to improve their performance.

Disagreement or Debate: Engaging in a civil disagreement or discussion on a topic. For example, two colleagues having a heated but respectful debate about a work-related issue.

Enforcing Rules or Policies: Applying rules or policies in a consistent and fair manner. For example, a teacher enforcing classroom rules or a supervisor addressing attendance issues according to company policy.

Isolated Incidents: A single, non-repetitive instance of a comment or action that might be offensive but is not part of a pattern of behavior. For example, a colleague making an offhand remark that could be seen as rude but immediately apologizes.

Perceived Slights or Misunderstandings: Situations where an action or comment is misinterpreted or taken out of context. For example, someone feeling slighted because of a misunderstood joke that wasn’t meant to offend.

Friendly Banter or Jokes (If Mutual): Light-hearted exchanges that both parties understand and accept as non-offensive. For example, friends or close colleagues teasing each other in a way that both find funny and acceptable.

Normal Management Actions: Legitimate management actions taken in the course of business, like performance reviews, promotions, or disciplinary actions. For example, a supervisor assigning tasks based on job performance and business needs.

Cultural Differences: Actions or behaviors rooted in cultural norms that may be misunderstood but are not intended to be offensive. For example, a greeting or gesture that is customary in one culture but may seem strange or awkward in another.

Refusal of Unreasonable Requests: Declining a request that is not reasonable or within someone’s rights to refuse. For example, an employee refusing to work overtime that was not agreed upon in their contract.

Addressing Harassment: Communicating to someone that their behavior is harassing you, when it is true. This can help make the individual aware of the impact of their behavior, seek resolution, validate your experience, set boundaries, and follow legal or organizational procedures. For example, telling a coworker that their repeated comments about your appearance are making you uncomfortable and asking them to stop.

Now let's break down what does count as harassment:

Disinformation and Defamation of Character

Definition:

Disinformation: This refers to false information that is deliberately created and spread to deceive or mislead others. It’s often used to manipulate public opinion, discredit individuals, or cause confusion.

Slander: This involves making false spoken statements that damage someone’s reputation.

Libel: Libel is similar to slander but involves false statements made in a fixed medium, typically written or published online.

Defamation of Character: This is a broader term encompassing both slander and libel, referring to any false statement, whether spoken or written, that harms a person's reputation.

As Harassment:

Disinformation becomes harassment when it is used maliciously to harm an individual's reputation or cause them distress. This might involve spreading false rumors about someone’s actions or beliefs, or fabricating stories to discredit them.

Slander/Libel/Defamation become harassment when false statements are made with the intent to damage someone's character or standing in the community, leading to social, professional, or personal harm. This is particularly damaging when spread online, where false information can quickly reach a wide audience.

Examples:

Disinformation: A group creates and spreads a false narrative that a well-known activist has engaged in illegal activities, with the aim of discrediting their work and damaging their public image. The false information is shared widely across social media platforms, leading others to believe the activist is untrustworthy.

Slander: During a live podcast, a speaker falsely accuses a colleague of being involved in unethical business practices. Even though the accusation is baseless, listeners begin to question the colleague's integrity.

Libel: An online blog publishes an article falsely claiming that a local politician has been accepting bribes. The article spreads rapidly, causing the politician to face public scrutiny and potentially affecting their career.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: The victim may experience anxiety, stress, and a sense of powerlessness as their reputation is attacked. This can lead to mental health issues such as depression or anxiety disorders.

Social Isolation: As the false information spreads, the victim may find themselves ostracized by their community, friends, or professional network. They may be unfairly judged or treated differently by others who believe the falsehoods.

Professional Consequences: Defamation can result in job loss, damage to professional relationships, or loss of business opportunities, especially if the victim’s reputation is central to their work.

Financial Damage: The victim might incur legal costs in attempting to clear their name or experience a loss of income due to damaged reputation.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: In many jurisdictions, victims of defamation of character can pursue legal action against the perpetrator. They may sue for damages to compensate for the harm done to their reputation. However, these cases can be complex, requiring proof that the statements were false, made with malicious intent, and caused harm.

Platform Policies: Many social media platforms have guidelines against spreading false information and may take action by removing content or banning users who engage in such activities. However, enforcement can be inconsistent.

Ethical Implications: Even if legal action isn’t taken, spreading false information or engaging in defamation is ethically wrong and can have serious consequences for both the victim and society as a whole. It undermines trust in information sources and can contribute to a culture of misinformation and cynicism.

Disinformation and slander/libel can be deeply damaging, both personally and professionally, and are forms of harassment that are taken seriously both legally and ethically.

Amplifying Disinformation and Slander

Definition:

Amplifying Disinformation: This refers to the act of spreading or sharing deliberately false or misleading information created by someone else. It involves reblogging, retweeting, sharing posts, or forwarding messages that contain disinformation, even if the person amplifying it isn’t the original creator.

Amplifying Slander: This involves spreading spoken false statements about someone that are damaging to their reputation. It often occurs in social interactions, such as sharing gossip or rumors.

Amplifying Libel: This is similar to amplifying slander but involves sharing written or published false information that harms someone’s reputation. It typically occurs on social media, blogs, or other written formats.

As Harassment:

Amplifying Disinformation becomes harassment when it is done with malicious intent or reckless disregard for the truth. By spreading false information, individuals contribute to the harm caused to the victim, including damage to their reputation, emotional distress, and social or professional consequences.

Amplifying Slander/Libel becomes harassment when the person sharing the information knows it is false or harmful but continues to spread it, thereby further damaging the victim’s reputation and standing. Even if the person amplifying the content isn't the original source, they are still participating in and perpetuating the harm.

Examples:

Amplifying Disinformation: After seeing a tweet that deliberately spreads a false narrative about a political figure being involved in a criminal activity, a user retweets it with a comment that suggests they believe it, spreading the disinformation to their followers. The false claim quickly gains traction, causing the political figure significant public backlash.

Amplifying Slander: During a group chat, one person repeats a false rumor they heard about a coworker being unfaithful. Even though the rumor is baseless and was created with malicious intent, it quickly spreads through the workplace, damaging the coworker’s reputation and personal relationships.

Amplifying Libel: A person shares an article on their Facebook page that falsely accuses a local business owner of engaging in fraudulent activities. Although they didn’t write the article, their act of sharing it contributes to the spread of the disinformation, leading to a decline in the business owner’s customer base.

Impact on the Victim:

Increased Harm: The more widely disinformation or slander is shared, the more damage it can cause. As the false information reaches a larger audience, the victim may face increased social ostracization, professional setbacks, or emotional distress.

Difficulty in Correcting the Record: Once disinformation or slander is amplified, it can be challenging for the victim to correct the falsehoods. The spread of false information can take on a life of its own, making it hard for the truth to prevail.

Reputational Damage: The victim may suffer long-term harm to their personal and professional reputation, which can affect their relationships, career, and social standing.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Amplifying disinformation, slander, or libel can expose the person spreading the false information to legal liability, particularly if they knowingly shared it with the intent to cause harm. In some cases, they may be sued for defamation or held responsible for damages caused by the spread of false information.

Ethical Responsibility: Even if there is no legal liability, those who amplify false information have an ethical responsibility to verify the accuracy of what they share. Spreading disinformation or slander without regard for the truth is unethical and can contribute to a culture of harassment and mistrust.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms often have policies against the spread of disinformation and may take action against users who repeatedly amplify harmful content. This could include warnings, suspensions, or permanent bans.

Amplifying disinformation and slander is a serious issue that can cause significant harm to individuals and communities. Those who engage in this behavior, even if they aren’t the original creators of the content, play a crucial role in perpetuating the damage and may face legal and ethical consequences.

Cyberbullying

Definition:

Cyberbullying involves the use of digital platforms, such as social media, messaging apps, or online forums, to repeatedly target, intimidate, or belittle an individual. It is a form of bullying that occurs online and can include various forms of aggressive behavior.

As Harassment:

Cyberbullying becomes harassment when the behavior is intentional, repeated, and causes significant emotional distress or harm to the victim. It can involve sending threatening or abusive messages, spreading rumors, or using online platforms to isolate or degrade someone.

Examples:

Personal Attacks: A student repeatedly sends mean-spirited and threatening messages to a classmate through a messaging app. These messages include insults, threats of violence, and derogatory comments about the victim’s appearance and personal life.

Public Shaming: A group of people creates a social media page specifically to post embarrassing photos and make derogatory comments about an individual. The posts are shared widely, leading to public humiliation.

Spreading Rumors: An individual creates fake profiles to spread false and harmful rumors about someone, such as accusing them of dishonest or immoral behavior. This false information is shared across multiple platforms, damaging the victim’s reputation.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims of cyberbullying may experience feelings of anxiety, depression, and low self-esteem. The constant online attacks can lead to severe emotional distress and a sense of helplessness.

Social Isolation: The victim may withdraw from online and offline social interactions due to fear of further harassment. This isolation can lead to a decline in social support and relationships.

Academic and Professional Impact: For students, cyberbullying can lead to decreased academic performance and school avoidance. For adults, it can affect job performance and professional relationships.

Physical Effects: The stress and anxiety caused by cyberbullying can result in physical symptoms such as headaches, sleep disturbances, and a weakened immune system.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws specifically targeting cyberbullying. Legal actions can include restraining orders, criminal charges for harassment or threats, and civil lawsuits for damages. Laws vary by location, so the availability and extent of legal recourse depend on local regulations.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms and online services often have policies against cyberbullying. Users who engage in such behavior may face account suspension, bans, or content removal. Reporting mechanisms are available for victims to report abusive behavior.

Ethical Implications: Cyberbullying is ethically unacceptable as it inflicts unnecessary harm and distress on individuals. It contributes to a toxic online environment and can have severe consequences for victims. Promoting respectful and positive online interactions is crucial for fostering a supportive digital community.

Cyberbullying is a serious issue with far-reaching effects on individuals’ mental health and well-being. Addressing it requires both legal action and ethical responsibility, with efforts focused on prevention, support for victims, and creating a safer online environment.

Doxxing

Definition:

Doxxing (or "doxing") is the act of publicly revealing or publishing private, sensitive, or personal information about an individual without their consent. This information might include details like home addresses, phone numbers, email addresses, and workplace locations. The term "doxx" originates from the word "documents," reflecting the sharing of documents or personal details.

As Harassment:

Doxxing becomes harassment when the intention is to harm, intimidate, or distress the individual whose information is being exposed. It can be used to provoke harassment from others, incite physical threats, or damage the victim's privacy and security.

Examples:

Public Exposure: An individual’s personal details, such as their home address and phone number, are posted on a public forum or social media site after a heated online argument. This leads to unwanted contact and harassment from strangers.

Threatening Behavior: An online user publishes sensitive information about a journalist who has been critical of certain groups. The journalist starts receiving threatening messages and is forced to take security precautions.

Intimidation Tactics: After a disagreement in a gaming community, a player’s real-life address and contact information are shared with the community, leading to in-person threats and harassment.

Impact on the Victim:

Safety and Security Risks: The victim may face threats of physical harm or stalking due to the exposure of their personal information. This can lead to a heightened sense of vulnerability and fear.

Emotional Distress: Victims often experience significant emotional stress, including anxiety, fear, and a sense of invasion of privacy. The knowledge that their personal information is publicly accessible can be deeply unsettling.

Social and Professional Consequences: The victim’s reputation can be damaged, leading to unwanted attention and negative interactions in their personal and professional life. They might experience social ostracism or job-related issues as a result of the doxxing.

Financial Impact: In extreme cases, victims may incur costs related to increased security measures, legal fees, or changes in their contact information.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions consider doxxing a criminal offense, particularly if it involves threats, harassment, or incitement to violence. Laws related to privacy, harassment, and cybercrime can be applied to address doxxing. Victims can often seek legal protection or file complaints with law enforcement.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms and online services typically have policies against doxxing. They may take action such as removing the offending content, suspending accounts, or providing support to affected users. However, enforcement can vary.

Ethical Implications: Doxxing is ethically problematic as it involves a deliberate invasion of privacy and can lead to severe consequences for the victim. It violates principles of respect and confidentiality and contributes to a hostile online environment.

Doxxing represents a serious breach of privacy and security, with the potential for significant harm to individuals. Addressing doxxing requires both legal measures and a strong ethical commitment to protecting personal information and respecting others’ privacy.

Stalking

Definition:

Stalking involves persistent and unwanted attention or surveillance of an individual that causes them to feel fear or distress. It can occur through various means, including physical following, digital monitoring, or repeated harassment through communication channels. The intent is often to intimidate or control the victim.

As Harassment:

Stalking becomes harassment when it is done with the intent to cause emotional or psychological harm, invade the victim’s privacy, or exert control over their actions. The behavior is characterized by its repetitive nature and the fear it instills in the victim.

Examples:

Physical Stalking: An individual repeatedly shows up at the victim’s home or workplace, waits for them outside, or follows them in public places despite being asked to stop.

Digital Stalking: A person continually monitors the victim’s online activities, sends frequent and unwanted messages or emails, tracks their location through social media check-ins, and creates fake profiles to gain more access.

Harassing Communication: The stalker sends numerous threatening or intrusive messages, calls, or letters, making the victim feel unsafe and overwhelmed. This can include persistent contact despite clear requests to cease communication.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims often experience high levels of anxiety, fear, and paranoia. The constant sense of being watched or followed can lead to severe emotional trauma and mental health issues, such as depression or panic attacks.

Social Isolation: Victims may withdraw from social activities or change their routines to avoid the stalker. They might also feel compelled to move or alter their personal lives significantly to ensure their safety.

Professional Disruption: Stalking can interfere with the victim’s work life, leading to decreased productivity, job dissatisfaction, or even job loss if the stalking occurs at their workplace or affects their professional reputation.

Physical Safety: In severe cases, stalking can lead to physical threats or attacks, putting the victim's safety and well-being at risk. This may necessitate physical security measures or legal protections.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have specific laws against stalking, which can include criminal charges and restraining orders. These laws address both physical and digital stalking behaviors, providing legal avenues for victims to seek protection and hold perpetrators accountable.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms and online services often have policies against stalking and harassment. Victims can report stalking behavior to these platforms, which may take action such as banning the perpetrator or removing harmful content.

Ethical Implications: Stalking is ethically unacceptable as it infringes on an individual’s right to privacy and security. It represents a severe violation of personal boundaries and can cause lasting harm. Ethical behavior involves respecting others' personal space and ensuring that interactions remain consensual and respectful.

Stalking is a grave form of harassment that involves a persistent invasion of privacy and control over the victim’s life. Addressing it requires both legal intervention and ethical commitment to safeguarding individuals' personal safety and well-being.

Hate Speech

Definition:

Hate speech refers to any communication—whether verbal, written, or visual—that disparages or incites violence or hostility against an individual or group based on attributes such as race, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It involves expressions that promote hatred or violence towards people based on these characteristics.

As Harassment:

Hate speech becomes harassment when it is used to target individuals or groups with the intent to demean, intimidate, or incite violence against them. It often creates a hostile environment and contributes to systemic discrimination and exclusion. The impact of hate speech can extend beyond the immediate target to affect entire communities.

Examples:

Social Media Posts: A user posts derogatory comments and slurs about a specific racial or religious group, encouraging others to join in and spread similar messages. These posts can lead to a climate of hostility and exclusion for members of the targeted group.

Online Forums: On a discussion board, members share and amplify content that advocates violence against LGBTQ+ individuals, including graphic threats and dehumanizing rhetoric. This can make LGBTQ+ users feel unsafe and unwelcome on the platform.

Hate Groups: Organized hate groups use websites and social media to recruit and spread propaganda that targets specific ethnic or religious groups. Their messages include misinformation, inflammatory statements, and calls for discriminatory actions.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Harm: Victims of hate speech often experience emotional and psychological distress, including feelings of fear, anxiety, and depression. They may feel dehumanized or marginalized.

Social Exclusion: Hate speech can lead to social ostracization and reduced participation in community or public activities. Victims may withdraw from online communities or public spaces to avoid hostility.

Physical Safety: In severe cases, hate speech can incite real-world violence or harassment against individuals or groups, leading to physical harm or threats. It can also contribute to a climate of fear and insecurity.

Community Impact: Hate speech can contribute to broader societal divisions and tensions, fostering environments where prejudice and discrimination are normalized.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: The legality of hate speech varies by jurisdiction. Some countries have specific laws that criminalize hate speech, while others protect freedom of speech more broadly, making legal action challenging. In regions with laws against hate speech, victims may have the option to report incidents to law enforcement or seek legal remedies.

Platform Policies: Many social media platforms have policies prohibiting hate speech and may take action by removing content, suspending accounts, or banning users who engage in such behavior. However, enforcement can be inconsistent, and some platforms may struggle to balance moderation with free speech considerations.

Ethical Implications: Hate speech is widely regarded as unethical because it promotes discrimination and intolerance. It undermines the principles of respect and equality, contributing to societal harm. Addressing hate speech requires a commitment to fostering inclusive and respectful communities, both online and offline.

Hate speech is a serious form of harassment with far-reaching effects on individuals and communities. Recognizing its impact and taking action to prevent and address it is crucial for promoting a more respectful and inclusive digital environment.

Trolling

Definition:

Trolling is the act of making deliberately provocative, offensive, or off-topic comments with the intention of eliciting strong emotional responses from others. It often involves disrupting conversations, creating conflicts, or stirring up controversy for amusement or to upset others.

As Harassment:

Trolling becomes harassment when the intent is to target specific individuals or groups with the purpose of causing emotional distress, confusion, or frustration. This involves consistently targeting someone with offensive or inflammatory comments, aiming to disrupt their online experience or provoke a reaction.

Examples:

Social Media Comments: A user repeatedly posts inflammatory or offensive comments on posts related to sensitive topics like mental health or personal identity. Their goal is to provoke arguments, upset the original poster, and attract attention to their own posts.

Forum Disruption: On an online forum focused on a specific hobby or interest, a troll deliberately posts off-topic or derogatory comments to derail discussions, causing frustration and confusion among regular members.

Live Stream Interference: During a live stream, a troll bombards the chat with spam, offensive messages, and provocative statements to distract the streamer and viewers, disrupting the content and conversation.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims may experience frustration, anger, and stress as a result of trolling. The constant need to address or ignore disruptive comments can be mentally exhausting.

Disruption of Conversations: Trolling can derail meaningful discussions and create a hostile environment, making it difficult for others to engage in productive or enjoyable conversations.

Reduced Participation: The presence of trolls can lead to decreased participation in online communities, as users may avoid engaging with platforms or topics where they have previously been targeted.

Psychological Impact: Persistent trolling can contribute to anxiety, depression, or feelings of helplessness, particularly if the troll’s comments are deeply personal or offensive.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: The legal response to trolling varies by jurisdiction and the nature of the trolling. While many forms of trolling do not constitute a criminal offense, behaviors that involve threats, harassment, or incitement to violence may be actionable under cybercrime or harassment laws.

Platform Policies: Most social media and online platforms have community guidelines that address trolling. They may take action such as removing offending content, suspending accounts, or banning users who engage in trolling behavior. Enforcement can vary, and some platforms struggle to effectively manage trolling.

Ethical Implications: Trolling is generally considered unethical because it aims to disrupt, harm, or manipulate others for personal amusement. It undermines respectful and constructive communication and can contribute to a negative online culture. Addressing trolling involves fostering a more respectful online environment and encouraging positive interactions.

Trolling is a form of online harassment that can have significant emotional and social impacts on individuals and communities. Recognizing and addressing trolling behavior is important for maintaining healthy and respectful online interactions.

Impersonation

Definition:

Impersonation involves creating or using a fake identity to deceive others into believing that you are someone else. This can include pretending to be a public figure, a private individual, or a professional entity. The goal is often to mislead or manipulate others for various purposes, including personal gain, harassment, or deception.

As Harassment:

Impersonation becomes harassment when it is used to target individuals with the intention of causing harm, spreading false information, or engaging in malicious activities. This might involve creating fake profiles or accounts to misrepresent someone or to exploit their identity for harmful purposes.

Examples:

Social Media Accounts: A user creates a fake social media profile pretending to be a well-known celebrity or public figure, using it to post misleading or harmful content that could damage the real person’s reputation.

Email Scams: An individual sends emails from an address that looks like it belongs to a trusted authority or organization (e.g., a company executive or a government official) to deceive recipients into providing sensitive information or making financial transactions.

Online Fraud: Someone impersonates a person in an online dating profile, using fake photos and personal details to manipulate or exploit other users emotionally or financially.

Impact on the Victim:

Reputation Damage: The victim may suffer from reputational harm if false or misleading information is spread using their identity, leading to confusion, mistrust, or negative perceptions among their audience or associates.

Emotional Distress: Being impersonated can lead to significant emotional distress, including anxiety, embarrassment, and frustration. The victim may feel violated and powerless, particularly if the impersonation is done in a malicious or humiliating way.

Professional Consequences: For public figures, professionals, or businesses, impersonation can lead to professional repercussions, including loss of business opportunities, legal issues, or damage to professional relationships.

Financial Impact: If impersonation involves fraud, the victim may suffer financial losses or be involved in lengthy and costly legal battles to address the situation.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws against impersonation, including identity theft, fraud, and misrepresentation. Victims may have legal avenues to pursue, such as filing complaints with law enforcement or taking civil action to seek damages. The specifics of legal recourse vary depending on local laws and the nature of the impersonation.

Platform Policies: Social media and online platforms often have policies against impersonation. They may take actions such as verifying identities, removing fake accounts, or suspending users who engage in impersonation. Effective enforcement of these policies can be challenging, especially given the scale of online interactions.

Ethical Implications: Impersonation is generally considered unethical because it involves deception and manipulation. It undermines trust and can have serious consequences for individuals and organizations. Ethical behavior online includes respecting others' identities and avoiding deceptive practices.

Impersonation can be a serious form of online harassment with far-reaching effects on both individuals and organizations. Addressing and preventing impersonation involves understanding its impacts, pursuing legal remedies when necessary, and fostering ethical online behavior.

Spamming

Definition:

Spamming refers to the repeated, unsolicited sending of messages or content, often with the intent to overwhelm, disrupt communication, or promote something, usually in a commercial context. It can occur through email, social media, messaging platforms, or other digital channels.

As Harassment:

Spamming becomes harassment when it is used to intentionally annoy, intimidate, or overwhelm an individual or organization. This might involve flooding someone's inbox with unwanted messages, bombarding a social media profile with repetitive or abusive comments, or inundating forums with irrelevant or harmful content. The goal is often to disrupt normal communication or to cause distress.

Examples:

Email Spamming: A user receives hundreds of unsolicited promotional emails, some of which contain malicious links or phishing attempts. The volume of spam clutters their inbox and makes it difficult to manage legitimate communications.

Social Media Spamming: An individual’s social media account is flooded with repetitive comments or messages from the same user or group. These comments might be abusive, irrelevant, or aimed at disrupting the user’s ability to engage with others on the platform.

Forum Spamming: A user continuously posts irrelevant or disruptive messages in online forums or discussion boards, often to derail conversations, promote products, or harass other users.

Impact on the Victim:

Overwhelm and Stress: The victim may feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of messages or content, leading to stress and frustration. Managing or filtering through spam can be time-consuming and mentally taxing.

Disruption of Communication: Spam can disrupt normal communication, making it difficult for the victim to focus on important messages or tasks. It can also crowd out legitimate content or conversations, reducing the effectiveness of communication platforms.

Privacy and Security Risks: Some spam messages may contain malicious links or attachments that can compromise the victim’s privacy or security, leading to potential data breaches or identity theft.

Financial Impact: For businesses, spamming can lead to loss of productivity, increased costs related to managing or mitigating spam, and potential damage to their reputation if customers are affected.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws against spamming, especially when it involves malicious intent or financial fraud. For instance, the CAN-SPAM Act in the U.S. regulates commercial email and provides guidelines for managing spam. Victims of spam may also seek legal remedies for damages or file complaints with relevant authorities.

Platform Policies: Most digital platforms and services have policies against spamming. Violations can result in penalties such as account suspension, banning, or removal of the offending content.

Ethical Implications: Spamming is considered unethical as it disregards the recipient’s consent and aims to exploit or harass individuals. It disrupts normal communication practices and can contribute to a negative online experience for users.

Spamming, when used maliciously, can have significant negative impacts on individuals and organizations, and is addressed by legal frameworks and platform policies to protect users and maintain the integrity of digital communication.

Making Threats

Definition:

Threats to Harm Others: These are statements or actions that express an intention to cause physical harm or violence to another person. These threats can be explicit (directly stating the intention to harm) or implicit (suggesting harm or intimidation).

Threats to Harm Oneself: These are statements or actions that express a desire or intention to self-harm or commit suicide. Such threats may be made in distressing contexts and can indicate serious emotional or psychological issues.

As Harassment:

Threats to Harm Others: When threats are made to harm others, they can be a form of harassment if the intent is to intimidate, control, or manipulate the target. This can involve direct threats or veiled warnings intended to cause fear or distress. The impact can be significant, causing emotional and psychological trauma, and creating a sense of insecurity or danger for the victim.

Threats to Harm Oneself: Threats of self-harm can also be a form of harassment if they are used manipulatively or to provoke a response from others. In some cases, individuals may use threats of self-harm to exert control or to gain attention, which can create distress and concern among those who are aware of the threats.

Examples:

Threats to Harm Others:

Direct Threat: A user posts a message on social media stating, "I will come to your house and hurt you if you don’t stop talking about me." This explicit threat aims to intimidate the recipient.

Implicit Threat: An individual leaves a comment on a public forum suggesting, "People like you should be careful about what they say," followed by a vague reference to "consequences." This implies potential harm without explicit details.

Threats to Harm Oneself:

Direct Threat: A user posts on a social media platform saying, "I’m going to end my life tonight. I don’t see any way out." This expresses a clear intention to self-harm.

Implicit Threat: An individual frequently posts messages or updates about feeling hopeless and discusses self-destructive thoughts without explicitly stating their intent to self-harm, but hinting at severe distress.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional and Psychological Trauma: For threats to harm others, victims may experience fear, anxiety, and a sense of vulnerability. The threat of violence can lead to psychological stress and trauma.

Behavioral Changes: Victims of threats may change their behavior to avoid potential harm, such as avoiding certain places or people, or taking additional precautions for their safety.

Distress and Concern: For threats of self-harm, friends, family, and others may experience significant emotional distress and concern, feeling helpless or anxious about the individual’s well-being.

Intervention and Support: Threats of self-harm often prompt intervention from mental health professionals or emergency services, which can be disruptive and may lead to involuntary treatment or hospitalization for the individual making the threats.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse:

Threats to Harm Others: Making threats of violence can be illegal in many jurisdictions. Victims can report these threats to law enforcement, who may investigate and take legal action if necessary. Criminal charges can be brought against individuals making credible threats of harm.

Threats to Harm Oneself: While threats of self-harm are not typically illegal, they often prompt intervention by mental health professionals and emergency services to ensure the individual’s safety. In some cases, these threats may lead to involuntary hospitalization or treatment if the person is deemed a danger to themselves.

Platform Policies: Many online platforms have policies against threats of violence and self-harm. Content that violates these policies may be removed, and users making such threats may be banned or suspended. Platforms often have mechanisms for reporting and addressing these issues.

Ethical Implications: Both types of threats raise serious ethical concerns. Making threats to harm others is fundamentally unethical and can have legal consequences. Threats of self-harm require sensitive handling, as they indicate significant distress and necessitate a compassionate response to address the underlying issues and provide appropriate support.

Threats, whether directed towards others or oneself, are serious and can have profound impacts on all involved. They are addressed through legal channels, platform policies, and ethical guidelines to protect individuals and provide necessary support.

Sexual Harassment

Definition:

Sexual Harassment: This is unwanted and unwelcome behavior of a sexual nature that creates a hostile or intimidating environment. It can occur in various forms, including physical, verbal, or non-verbal conduct. Sexual harassment is often characterized by a power imbalance and can occur in both professional and personal contexts.

As Harassment:

Sexual Harassment becomes harassment when it involves making someone feel uncomfortable, threatened, or demeaned through sexual advances, comments, or behavior. This includes behavior that interferes with the victim’s ability to participate in work or social environments and can create an atmosphere of intimidation or hostility.

Examples:

Verbal Harassment: Making inappropriate or suggestive comments, jokes, or propositions about someone's body or sexual activities. For instance, repeatedly commenting on a colleague’s appearance or making unwelcome advances.

Physical Harassment: Unwanted physical contact, such as touching, groping, or brushing up against someone in a manner that makes them uncomfortable. This can also include gestures or displays of sexually explicit material.

Non-Verbal Harassment: Sending sexually suggestive messages, images, or using body language that implies sexual interest or intent. This includes persistent staring or creating an atmosphere with sexually explicit material.

Online Harassment: Sending unsolicited explicit messages or images through social media, email, or messaging platforms. This can also involve tagging someone in inappropriate content or making unwanted advances through digital communication.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims may experience a range of emotional responses, including anxiety, depression, and fear. The harassment can lead to a diminished sense of safety and self-worth.

Professional Consequences: In a workplace setting, sexual harassment can affect job performance, career progression, and workplace relationships. Victims may face challenges in their professional environment, such as being passed over for promotions or experiencing isolation from colleagues.

Social and Personal Impact: Harassment can lead to a loss of confidence, social withdrawal, and strained personal relationships. Victims might avoid certain places or situations to escape harassment or its reminders.

Physical Health: The stress and emotional impact of harassment can manifest physically, leading to issues such as sleep disturbances, headaches, or other stress-related health problems.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws and regulations against sexual harassment. Victims may have legal avenues to pursue claims, such as filing complaints with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) in the U.S. or similar bodies in other countries. Legal action can result in compensation for damages, changes in workplace policies, or other remedies.

Platform Policies: Online platforms and workplaces typically have policies prohibiting sexual harassment. Violations can lead to account suspension, removal of content, or disciplinary actions against offenders. Reporting mechanisms are often available to address harassment claims.

Ethical Implications: Sexual harassment is a severe violation of ethical standards and personal boundaries. It undermines the dignity and rights of individuals and perpetuates a culture of inequality and fear. Ethical responses involve creating safe and respectful environments, actively addressing and preventing harassment, and supporting victims.

Sexual harassment is a serious issue with significant legal, ethical, and personal implications. Addressing it effectively requires a combination of legal action, supportive policies, and a commitment to creating respectful and safe environments for all individuals.

Understanding and addressing online harassment is crucial for fostering a safer and more respectful digital environment. From the deliberate spread of disinformation and defamation to the invasive impact of spamming and threats, each form of harassment has its own set of consequences that can deeply affect individuals and communities. Sexual harassment, in particular, represents a severe violation of personal dignity and can lead to significant emotional and professional harm.

By recognizing the different manifestations of harassment, from slander and libel to online threats and unwanted sexual advances, we can better equip ourselves to combat these issues effectively. Legal frameworks, platform policies, and ethical practices all play essential roles in addressing and mitigating harassment.

It is our collective responsibility to create and maintain environments—both online and offline—where individuals feel safe, respected, and heard. By staying informed, supporting victims, and holding perpetrators accountable, we can contribute to a more just and compassionate society. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, and it is up to all of us to uphold these values in every interaction.

[skzstannie]

"I'll take care of you"

SKZ-> Felix x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, stranger to lovers wc: ~3,100 cw: Abusive/toxic boyfriend, yelling, violence, Felix is literally the biggest sweetheart

summary: you'd never expect the coffee shop down the street to be your saving grace, but a certain sunshine had other ideas

A/N: Hellooooo! I reached 200 followers today, so THANK U AGAIN! Should I do something special for it?

Part 2 is now posted!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Baby, please," you sob, your cheek throbbing in pain.

"Don't 'baby' me, you know this is what happens when you don't do your chores." His smirk is villainous as he stands over you. "Don't be a bitch! Get up and go do what you were supposed to do," he seethes, making you flinch.

You slowly get up off the floor, brushing yourself off as you stand. You feel his eyes on you as you scramble into the kitchen.

You forgot to do the dishes again. You should've known better than to forget; you know he gets like this every time. You don't necessarily blame him, though. He does so much for you, and you can't even remember to do a simple household chore.

You scrub the plates clean, the hot water burning against your skin. His footsteps echo into the room, coming closer to you.

His hands wrap gently around your waist, holding you close. "You know I don't like to hit you, baby. Why can't you just listen?"

"I'm sorry. I'll be better for you," you tell him as you lean back into his touch.

"I know you will be."

~ ~ ~

"One medium Iced Americano!"

You stand from your seat in the coffee shop, making your way towards the counter to grab your drink.

The cafe is crowded, the queue at least 10 deep. You squeeze past people, muttering the occasional "Excuse me" as you pass.

You're disappointed when you get to the counter, seeing your drink nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me," you call out to the barista behind the counter, "What happened to my drink? The Iced Americano?"

"Oh, some guy just took it. It was yours?" she asks distractedly, another cup already in her hand as she pours coffee into it.

"Yea..." you trail off, your eyes scanning the shop for the drink-stealer.

"I'm sorry about that, I'll whip you up another one. What size would you like?"

"Medium, please." The barista nods her head and gets to work. "Thank you so much."

You sit down at a table near the counter to wait. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about all the work you have to catch up on this week. You're an editor for the local newspaper, and your boss decided to dump a bunch of stories on you last minute. While they weren't set to be published for another few weeks, you were incredibly meticulous with your work, so it usually took you longer than necessary to get through them.

You're brought of your thoughts by a boy walking up to your table. "I'm sorry, but I think I accidentally took your drink. My friend ordered a large iced Americano, and I think this is the medium." His cute face is twisted in an apologetic expression.

"That's ok, she's making me a new one. No worries," you reassure him, giving him a soft smile.

"Oh good, sorry again." You expect to him to walk off, your original drink in his hand, but he continues to stand in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. It's a little uncomfortable, and you're about to get up to avoid the awkward tension when he speaks again.

"Mind if I sit? You look like you could use some company."

You hesitate to answer. If your boyfriend found out you let some random man sit with you, he'd freak out.

"I was actually just about to head out. I have to get back to my boyfriend," you answer, deciding that rejecting his offer was for the best.

"Here you go miss, one medium Iced Americano," says the barista. Her arm is stretched over the counter, your drink in hand.

"Thank you so much," you immediately stand, stepping around the man to grab it.

As you go to step away, the man stops you, "My name's Felix by the way. I've seen you around here before." His eyes twinkle from the dingey lights overhead.

"I'm Y/N," your lips morph into a smile at his kindness.

"I'll see ya around?" there's a questioning twinge to his voice, a hint of hope peaking through.

"Sure. See ya around, Felix." With that, you walk towards the exit, heading back home.

~ ~ ~

"What took you so long?" your boyfriend's voice booms through the house as soon as you open the door.

"Someone else took my drink, so I had to wait for them to make me another," you explain, hopeful that you're calm energy will have the same affect on your boyfriend.

"You think that's a good enough excuse?! For all I know you could've been cheating on me! What am I supposed to think when you're gone for so long?!" he yells, his heavy footsteps approach you quickly from the living room.

"Babe, I promise it was nothing like that," you panic, your eyes darting around the foyer for an escape.

"Next time," he's in front of you now, his face red in anger, "tell me if you'll be longer." His rough hand reaches towards your face, roughly grabbing your jaw between his fingers. You wince, sure it'll leave yet another bruise. "Got it?"

"Yes," you mumble, your jaw stinging from his tight grasp.

"Good." He releases your face and wipes his hands on his pants, like he's disgusted by you.

You hurry off to your bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you.

~ ~ ~

It's been a couple weeks since you've been able to stop by the cafe. Your boyfriend's been stricter since the last coffee incident, not letting you leave the house without him.

"Hi Y/N!" your eyes glance above your computer screen, meeting the happy face of the man you met the last time you came here. What was his name again?

"Hi..." you say, hoping he'll fill in the blank.

"Felix!"

"Oh yea," you chuckle, embarrassed by your forgetfulness, "Sorry, it slipped my mind."

"That's ok!" You're heart warms, his bright and happy personality filling the emptiness of the coffee shop. "May I sit?" He gestures to the chair across from you.

You think on it for a moment. You really need to finish this article, but you guess a little break won't hurt. "Sure."

You didn't know it was possible, but his smile turns brighter at your answer. "Thanks!" He pulls the chair out and sits. It's silent between you for a minute, and you go back to typing away on your computer. "What are you working on?"

"I'm an editor for the newspaper, so I'm just finishing up this story," you reply.

"Oooh, that's cool? Do you like being an editor?"

You and Felix hit it off right away. He asks you more about your job, and you love the way he genuinely seems interested in what you have to say.

You ask him a few questions about himself, too, and you find out he's in a band with his friends.

"That's so cool!" You've finished you're article by this point, and you're nearing the end of your coffee, as well.

His eyes light up as he talks about his friends. They sound like an interesting bunch from all the stories he tells you.

"And then," he stops, letting out an adorable giggle, "he fell right on his ass, in front of everyone!" He laughs again and you join in. Something about Felix's aura just makes you feel so comfortable around him, like you've known him forever.

You both quiet down, and you become a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze. His eyes focus on your chin.

"What happened to your chin?" It's obvious he doesn't mean any harm with his question, pure curiosity taking over his features. However, the attention to your bruises makes you severely uncomfortable, and you instinctually look to flee.

"Oh, it was nothing," you think for a second, trying to come up with an excuse, "I'm just clumsy and hit my chin on my nightstand. No biggie," you tell him distractedly as you hurry to pack up your things.

His eyes widen at your panicked movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he apologizes, standing up as well.

"It's ok, I actually had to go anyway," you lie, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I'll see you around." You quickly make your way out of the cafe, not even giving him a chance to say goodbye. He stands there with a slight tilt to his head, watching you rush out of the shop.

~ ~ ~

Weeks go by before Felix has the chance to talk to you again. He waits for you on your usual days at the cafe, hoping to see your familiar figure walk through the door, but you never do.

His eyes light up one particular Monday morning as you walk through the door, the little bell dinging, alerting the employees someone came in.

His smile falters a little upon seeing the man holding your hand. You're expression is stiffer than normal, your lips pursed in a tight line, replacing the bright smile you usually wear.

Felix watches as the man orders for both of you. "One medium iced Americano and a small Hazelnut latte," he says.

The man looks nothing like he thought your boyfriend would look. His eyes are cold and emotionless, practically burning holes in the side of the barista's face. Felix doesn't miss the way he rudely tosses the money onto the counter, not even gracious enough to hand it to the cashier.

Felix's gaze shifts down to your hands, your boyfriend's grip looking unnecessarily tight around your small hand. He notices the way your fingers are white from lack of circulation, and his blood boils.

Felix manages to catch your wandering gaze, your cheeks heated in embarrassment from the way your boyfriend was treating the staff.

He gives you a small wave, the corners of his lips upturned.

Your eyes widen at his show of friendliness, and you give him the smallest of head shakes. Your expression conveys, "Please don't say anything to me", and his heart clenches at this. Who does this guy think he is?

As much as Felix wants to go up to you and rip his hand from yours, it's clear you don't want him to acknowledge you right now. He knows it is because of the man next to you, and he begins to wonder if those bruises he saw on your chin weeks before weren't from your clumsiness after all.

~ ~ ~

"You never order anything when you're here. Why is that?"

It's a nice, sunny Monday morning, and you and Felix sit in the corner of the cafe.

"I don't actually like coffee much," he chuckles, his face flushing in embarrassment. You raise your eyebrows at that, waiting for him to continue. "I just like the atmosphere here, and now I come for you, too!"

Now it's your turn to blush, a pink shade creeping up your neck. "For me?"

"Yea, I figured we're friends now, and I like to spend time with you." his voice is deep and charming as he speaks, his eyes soft.

Friends aren't something that have come easy to you. Your boyfriend rarely lets you go places by yourself. Work is the main exception, and after some begging a few months prior, he allows you to come to the coffee shop by yourself, too.

Being friends with Felix sounds nice. It's been months since you first met, and most weeks you both sit at the same table, you working on your articles and him doing various other activities. Sometimes he'll bring a book to read, other times he'll just play on his phone until you're finished working.

The silence sits between the two of you as you think, and Felix worries he's made you uncomfortable. "I mean- we don't have to be, like friends, or anything. I just thought-"

You cut off his rambling, a smile gracing your lips, "I'd love to be friends with you Felix."

His shoulders slump in relief, and he gives you a relaxed smile. "Oh good, I was worried I'd scared you off."

"You're practically the nicest person I've ever met. How could you possible scare me off?" you laugh.

"I know I can come off a little strong sometimes, but I'm just a friendly guy, and I like your company," he explains to you, and you can't help but agree with everything he says.

That first day he talked to you he did seem a little overzealous. Now, after hanging out with him numerous times, you know that's just him, and you're ok with that. You love how Felix is able to bring a little sunshine into your life, even if it's only for a few hours every week.

"Well, don't worry about it. I wanna be your friend, too, and I like hanging out with you just as much," you assure him.

"Perfect! As my first duty of being your official friend, I have to ask you to stop lying to me," his voice goes serious, the light in his eyes dimming.

Your breath falters a little at this. "What do you mean?" you try to play it off, taking a swift drink of your coffee. You know he's not stupid; anyone with eyes can see the various bumps and bruises that litter your body.

"All these bruises... nobody's that clumsy, Y/N."

The familiar urge to escape fills your body, and panic bubbles in your throat.

"Felix," you choke out, your gaze lingering on your hands nervously rubbing against your pants. Tears gather in your eyes.

No one has ever confronted you about this. You pushed your family away long ago; it was upon your boyfriend's request, but who were you to tell him no? You've not been close with someone since then. You had friends before, but after so many unanswered texts, they just stopped texting. Stopped calling. Now their contacts sit in your phone as constant reminders of what used to be.

Felix's heart softens as your eyes well with tears, but he stands his ground. If he was going to be your friend, he couldn't let this slide any longer. "No more lies."

"Felix, I can't," the anxiety becomes too much, and you're quick to run out of the cafe, leaving your bag and coffee sitting on the table.

Felix quickly gathers your things and follows you out, earning a few curious glances from the people standing in line.

His eyes find your form, speed-walking down the sidewalk in the normal direction you leave in. "Y/N, please wait!" he calls after you, jogging to catch up.

He only has to run for a few seconds, catching up to you quickly. He reaches out to grab your elbow, and he immediately recoils upon seeing the way you flinch at his touch.

You stop walking, knowing there's no point in running anymore. Your head hangs low, your gaze permanently set on the ground in front of you. You allow Felix to guide you towards a secluded bench, sitting on the side of one of the buildings.

Felix's body immediately kicks into comfort mode upon seeing the tears flowing down your face. He softly sets his arm around your shoulders. You don't flinch, so he takes that as his sign to wrap you up into a hug, pulling you further into his body.

You continue to cry into his shoulder, not sure how else to deal with the emotions that overwhelm you.

"Y/N," he whispers as he rubs your back, "Can you look at me for a second?"

You raise your head from his shoulder, your eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"Please let me help you," he begs, his arms firm around your body.

"Felix, I can't," your sobs return, your arms leaving Felix to cover your face.

"Y/N, you've let him control you long enough."

Your lips wobble, and you don't know what to say. You've dated your boyfriend for years; he's all you know, all you have.

You've listened to his verbal abuse for so long, his words constantly swimming in your head:

"No one else will love you like I do."

"Nobody cares about you."

"Your family and friends left you, but not me. You can trust me."

His physical abuse marks your body. Old scars litter your arms and legs, bruises coloring your jaw and neck. You're always aching, different parts of your body always healing. You know your body needs a break.

"I know you probably feel stuck, like you have no one to go to," Felix continues, hoping that there's room in your cluttered mind for his words to get through to you, "But I'm here now. I'll help you. I won't let him touch you anymore."

Your mind is full of every emotion imaginable.

You know you can trust Felix. The problem isn't whether or not you can trust Felix. After all these months, he's proven to be one of the greatest people you've ever met. He's kind, loving, caring; everything you're boyfriend is not.

No, the problem isn't whether you can trust Felix; he's one of the most trustworthy people you've ever met. You just don't know how.

"Please, Y/N, I can't sit by and continue to watch you walk into the cafe with new bruises every week. I'll help you get out of this mess; you don't have to stay with him anymore."

Felix's pleas swirl around in your mind. The kindness he emits mixes with the words of your boyfriend like oil and water. If Felix was ice, your boyfriend would be fire; the two polar opposites in every way.

"That boyfriend of yours is no good for you," you remember your mom telling you. It was one of the last conversations you had with her before he made you cut all contact with her.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it is time for a change. Felix has always made you feel safe, like you could tell him anything. He could help you.

"It's your call, don't let him think he has power of you. All you have to do is tell me, and it'll be taken care of. I'll take care of you, Y/N."

You sit in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of your sniffles filling the air.

The cold wind whips past your clouded head, bringing you back to reality. You finally gain the courage to look up at him, and his eyes have never looked softer.

"Please help me, Felix," you sob, your hands going to grip his hoodie as you lay your head against his chest. Your ear presses against his heart, the gentle beat soothing you better than words ever could.

"Oh, sweet girl," he whispers, running his hand through your hair. He's holding you so tight now, like he never wants to let you go. "You'll never have to see him again. I've got you now, nobody will hurt you anymore."

Part 2

[ckret2]

This is the first time I see someone saying that Filbrick kicked out Stan as primarily a protective measure. To me, honestly, he sees his children as investing to make money and found the perfect excuse to throw away the son he never wanted on the streets when a convenient excuse appeared. After all, he already had a bag full of clothes when he throwed Stan in the streets.

It's a cartoon episode that had 22 minute to pack in the entirety of Ford & Stan's backstory. He flung a duffel bag at Stan as a way to tell the viewers "he's serious about kicking Stan out" and we didn't see him pack it because that would've cost 30 seconds to animate a boring scene that's unnecessary to the flow of the story, and where else in the episode would that 30 seconds have come from?

The show takes tons of visual & narrative shortcuts to tell its story. We don't question how a digital clock appears on Stan's desk between one shot and the next in Boss Mabel. We don't question where Soos's Burrito Bites went before and after traveling into Stan's mind in Dreamscaperers. We don't question where the remains of Quentin Trembley's ripped pants vanish to in the crate after he tosses them aside. The only reason we question the duffel bag is because there's a way to weave it into the narrative to make a bad character look even worse; but I think it ignores the spirit and intent of the scene to treat that, and that alone, like it's indicative of Filbrick's character rather than indicative of the restraints of the cartoon medium.

I don't think he saw his kids as investments. I think, prior to discovering Ford could be worth a fortune, he saw his kids as his responsibility. It was his duty to get them to adulthood and make them into proper men. What we know about their upbringing is:

When he thought they were wusses, he sent them to boxing to toughen them up.

When he thinks Stan stole a gold chain from the pawn shop, he also berates him for stealing from other people, starting a crab-fighting ring, and "pickpocketing and monkeyshining." He's opposed to Stan committing illegal or dishonest acts even if they're profitable.

And when he kicks Stan out, yeah, he says Ford "was gonna be our ticket out of this dump," but he also says "All you ever do is lie and cheat, and ride on your brother's coattails."

Before Ford is revealed to be a genius, we have no evidence that Filbrick saw them as future moneymakers. And in fact, given how the show emphasizes how hard he is to impress and how newly impressed he is at Ford's genius, it seems like he DIDN'T previously see any such potential in his kids. This was a new development. Before that, we only know of two things he wanted out of his kids:

For them to be tough enough to protect themselves

For them to be honest, law-abiding, and hard-working

His dreams of making money off one of his kids lasted a few days tops—high school science fairs don't exactly last long. If he was hotheaded enough to kick out one of his kids for dashing some pie-in-the-sky dream that was only a few days old, then either they woulda been kicked out long before then, or they woulda almost been kicked out enough times that that would be their dominant impression of their dad that they'd report 40 years later, not "hard to impress." Yeah, he was mad he could've made a fortune and then didn't, but that alone wasn't the main motivation behind disowning Stan. He was taking out years of frustration with Stan all in one moment.

"All you ever do is lie and cheat" "This time you cost our family potential millions!"

You've been a bad kid and a troublemaker for a long time; this time, your behavior has impacted someone other than yourself—it's harmed your brother and your family—and I won't let you do it again.

(And this is pure headcanon/conjecture, so I'm keeping it as an aside—but I think there's something to his relationship with Caryn in all this. We know from how he treats Stan's lying that Filbrick highly values honesty. We know that Caryn is a pathological liar—it's one of the only things we know about her. We know from out-of-show interviews that Stan's "—the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart—" is him repeating something his father said. We know Filbrick sees their current living situation as a "dump," but lacks the financial means to get out of it. We know now the baby WAS intended to be Shermie, which makes a nearly 18 year gap before the Pines decided to have another kid. I think the twins were an accident, that Filbrick married Caryn out of a sense of duty to his sons and their mother, that he does love his family but still feels trapped; I think he hates that Caryn is such a liar, that it would have been a dealbreaker if there weren't kids involved, and that now he doesn't feel like there's much he can do about it because that's his wife; and I think that's a major motivating factor in his demanding honesty out of his sons—because he doesn't want them to turn out like their mother.)

To be clear—I don't think Filbrick is a good father. But in interpreting him as a bad father, I want to interpret him as the bad father he ACTUALLY IS, not make up some new, different bad father and paste it on top of his characterization. Sometimes fandom has a tendency to take a bad parent and stick entirely new bad parent traits on top of them, in a way that makes it seem like some fans think "well, if they're a bad parent, they MUST do THESE THINGS too, because ALL bad parents do that (and therefore, if they're not doing these things, they must not really be a bad parent)."

And at times I think it's important to hold the line. Based on what we know of him, Filbrick is bad enough to be a Bad Father even if he doesn't do XYZ that fandom assumes all bad fathers must do. Filbrick is bad enough to be a Bad Father even if he didn't see his kids as a way to make money.

I think he raised his boys the way he did because he thought that was the best thing for their future happiness—and he was wrong, and his ideas about manhood are outdated and toxic, and he was a bad father.

I think he saw them as his responsibility rather than as profit machines, and that he cared about their well-being—and his decision to express his caring through emotionally distant tough love was harmful and neglectful, and when he got angry he was verbally abusive, and he was a bad father.

I think he was devastated at the loss of potential millions not because his primary motive as a person is greed, but because his primary motive is being a good caretaker for his family, and his family was in a tough financial spot and that kind of money would turn all their lives around—and even though pinning his financial hopes on his son was a recent development, it was still an awful position to put his kid in, and he never should have done it, and he was a bad father.

I think he cared about his family MORE THAN their finances—but he still prioritized their finances too much, and in a moment of anger prioritized their finances more than one of his own sons, and he was a bad father.

I think kicking Stan out wasn't a consequence of thwarted greed, but of years of anger at Stan's delinquency, and that the issue wasn't the lost money but rather the fact that he thinks Stan deliberately harmed his brother for selfish reasons—and it was still a cruel thing to do and the man seriously needed some anger management classes, and he was a bad father.

He's a bad father even if his intentions are good. He's a bad father even if he cared about his sons. And that's why I'm insistent on maintaining his characterization that way—because it's worth remembering that a parent with good, caring intentions can still be bad, and their intentions don't excuse their actions.

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part Two

Featuring : (future) Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Amarantha is dead and you finally get to go home. Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of ruined wings and skin scarring, canon level violence, not proofread (i'll do it later), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You felt your magic return to you the day Amarantha died. It was such an ordinary day.

You were in your cabin, that Eris had found for you the moment your wings were burned. You couldn't return to the Night Court without putting yourself in danger of Amarantha finding you, so you stayed in Autumn.

You were cooking when it washed over you, feeling as if you could finally breath again. You tested your abilities, seeing how much you could do. You were able to engulf the entire room in darkness when you were satisfied it returned.

You lost hope 10 years prior, when one of the local villagers said that all of Amarantha's court was bound to Under the Mountain. That meant you wouldn't be getting anymore visits from Eris, and even in the 40 years before that, those were few and far between. You were lucky Autumn Court was on her "good" side, because she never looked too deep into the woods. From what Eris told you, Rhys had taken her to bed.

You knew Rhys, and you could guess that he did it to keep her eyes from turning towards the Night Court. Towards you. Or Velaris.

So, you lived your simple life. The cabin Eris gave you came with a horse, that you would take to and from the local village. You were able to maintain a garden. And the best thing about living in Autumn was you never had to brace a bad winter or a sweltering summer. You missed the seasons dearly, you missed Solstices and Starfalls. Most of all, you missed your family.

It still haunted you that Rhys was taking on the burden of the Night Court by himself. You wished you could be there with him.

And, the rest of your family was running Velaris. Without you. You had to wonder if Azriel and Mor ended up together, being trapped in the beautiful, romantic city all these years. You wouldn't if Azriel regretted leaving you that night. Or if he was happy you were gone.

One thing you couldn't get over, even after all these years, was that he left you. Sure, you could handle yourself, but he left you. His best friend. Even when you were young, you always wanted to be around Azriel. Once Cassian and Rhys stopped tormenting him, you were allowed to be around him. He was always the first one to show you techniques with his sword, or new flying maneuvers. But then Mor came alone, slept with Cassian, and that was it. Azriel had been pining after her since then. You weren't resentful of it until he left you the night everything went to shit. When you lost your magic and your ability to fly.

Even know, when the wind was raging in the forest, you teared up. You wish there was some way to be able to fly again. But you grew up in the Illyrian war camp with your mother and brother. You knew what destroyed tendons looked like. There was no hope. Even after Eris and his healers did everything they could to heal them as best as they could. The membrane was in tact, albeit thinner than normal, and you had full function of stretching them in and out. But, the proper strength to fly would never be resorted.

At least you had your magic back. And you waited for Eris to come find you, to placate his father enough that he had time to tell you what happened. You assumed, knowing the depletion of magic was tied to Amarantha, that she died. You really hoped that was the case. You could go home. You could see your brother. You could ignore Azriel for the rest of your life. It never even occurred to you that you could probably winnow back home. You hadn't been able to do it for a long time.

Instead of Eris bursting through the door that afternoon, it was shadows, followed by a heaving Azriel trying to catch his breath.

"(Y/N)!" Azriel exclaimed, bounding over to you. Before you had a chance to step away, he wrapped you in an embrace. One you couldn't help but melt into. You might be mad at him, but after 50 years of being apart, you were happy to see him.

You pulled away, seeing tears in Azriel's eyes as he looked you over. His eyes landed on your wings. "What did they do to you?" He asked, searching your eyes.

"After you left me that night, three of Beron's sentinels burned my wings." You said, taking a deep breath.

"I need to write a note, and then you can take me home. Is Rhys there yet?" You asked.

"I don't know, I've spent all day having my shadows look for you. I was hoping you made it to Winter... I didn't think you would still be here." He said, pausing as you started to write.

You wrote to Eris, letting him know that you would be going back to the Night Court. You also told him that you would support him if he ever needed anything. You tucked the note into an envelop and left it on the counter.

"Okay... can you winnow us?" You asked, holding out your hand.

He gazed over you again, unsaid words clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). For everything. For leaving you. For not coming to get you-"

"Azriel.. please.. take me home. And then we can talk about it." You said.

He nodded, staring at you for a few moments before he took you hand and darkness enveloped you both.

Rhys was pissed.

He may have been happy to see his family, and to tell Mor and you about how he found his mate (even if she was with Tamlin), but the instant he saw your wings, he knew something was wrong. Before even asking the rest of his family what happened, he pulled you into a room alone.

After recapping what happened Under the Mountain, and more tearful hellos, he asked you to sit down. "Tell me what happened." He said.

You looked down, taking a deep breath. "That night that Amarantha took your magic, and you closed the borders to Velaris, I got stuck in Autumn. Azriel had left to go help Mor with something. I couldn't even winnow to the Night Court borders." You told him what happened with the sentinels, how Eris found you, and then watched as Rhys settled into the quiet deathly rage.

"He did this to you?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

"No," you quickly corrected. "Eris helped me." There were tears in your eyes now. "He- Let me just tell you how it started..."

Eris brought you to a cabin on the outskirts of the Autumn borders, close to a village but far enough that no one would look for you here. He had his best healers come to help heal you, but with their lack ox experience repairing wings, they couldn't completely heal them. You back even still had scarring on it from how hot the sentinels burned through them.

When Eris couldn't stay because Amarantha sent for all High Lords and their heirs, he had a healer stay with you. Until you were back to your normal health. And then, he offered to help you get to the Night Court. Said he would personally take you to the Moonstone Palace. But he warned you how cruel Amarantha already was, and how she was taking more and more people prisoner (to be part of her "court") Under the Mountain. You chose to stay in the cabin. If you couldn't go back to Velaris, you didn't want to go to the Night Court. Not when your brother was actively trying to get Amarantha to avoid it. The return of the Lady of the Night Court would surely set her eyes towards you. And Rhys would pay the price.

Eris would visit you as often as he could. Since Autumn was on Amarantha's good side, she let Eris and his brothers out more. When he was able to step away from the Forest House, he would visit you. Bring you more supplied, new clothes, sometimes even new furniture or paint to refresh the cabin. All the while, he kept you up to date on what was happened. One day, you asked why he was helping you.

"Because I can... and it was my family's sentinels that harmed you. You had no one else around. If you were to die out here, what would I tell you brother? It would have caused an even worse relationship between us. And I'm hoping to have his support when I overthrow my father. If we can tackle Amarantha first... and.. I'm hoping one day you can counsel your brother to help me as well." He explained.

"So you're helping me for your own gain?" You asked.

"I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do... and I've grown fond of this little escape." He answered.

That's how it was until three courts tried to rebel, and Amarantha barred anyone from leaving Under the Mountain. Even Eris. You wondered why he hadn't shown up when you went into the village to grab some more food, when you overheard the rumors.

"He truly helped you? He never hurt you?" Rhys asked.

You shook your head. "No, he never hurt me. He never tried anything. He... was kind. And caring. And I owe him my life." You said, looking up at Rhys.

He nodded, thinking for a moment. He paused his pacing and looking at you dead in the eyes. "Azriel left you?" He asked, seeming to recall what you first told him.

"...Yes." You said after hesitating.

"I'm going to kill him." He growled.

Your heart skipped a beat, knowing Rhys might just well kill Azriel for putting you in harms way.

"Wait- no. Please.. go easy on him." You said.

He paused, taking a deep breath. Darkness was pooling around his ankles. You could tell he was trying to reel it in. "I'm going to beat him to a pulp."

Better than killing him, you thought. You relaxed for a moment before Rhys rushed out from the door. You chased after him to see the first blow to Azriel's face. Then to his gut. Then to his legs to knock him on the floor. All while Rhys growled out in between each punch,"You. Left. My. Sister. In. Autumn?!"

Azriel didn't even fight back.

Part Three

A/N: Another tough one... I think this will have 1 or 2 more parts... which I probably won't get to writing until Sunday or Monday night (I know, i'm sorry!) Thank you all so much for your support!

Tagging: @feiwelinchen @circe143 @sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @i-am-infinite @thestartitaness @buttermilktea11 @tele86 @yearninglustfully @bunnyredgirl

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