#of course it’s still wildly different in LOTS of ways. but there are some key elements there so impossible to deny

[dichenlachmandaily]

Watch Dichen Lachman's never-before-seen Severance audition as a wildly different Ms. Casey

You've never seen Ms. Casey like this before.

When Lumon's soft-spoken wellness counselor — played by Dichen Lachman — first appeared on Severance in season 1, she was simultaneously soothing and eerie as she delivered random pieces of information to severed employees about their Outies. She was calm, graceful, but concerningly innocent, and it was clear there was much more to her story. The season 1 finale finally confirmed that theory when it was revealed that Ms. Casey is actually Gemma, the presumed-dead wife of Mark (Adam Scott), shockingly alive but trapped inside Lumon for reasons that are still unclear after season 2.

But Ms. Casey wasn't always a serene, impassive employee. Entertainment Weekly has an exclusive look at Lachman's original audition for Severance in which she played a very different version of the character, as much more aggressive, direct, and fierce during her wellness session with Irving (John Turturro).

"This video shows my very first audition," Lachman tells EW. "As you can imagine, the secrets of Ms. Casey and Gemma at this point were closely guarded, so I had very little context for the characters when I began reading."

Lachman worked closely with the show’s casting director, Rachel Tenner, during the audition to figure out how to portray this mysterious character.

"Rachel was so helpful and so generous with her time, talking me through as much as she could, so I’d be able to find even the tiniest window into the world and approximate what this character might sound like," Lachman says.

Tenner says she had been given scripts in advance, so she knew more about the story than others during the audition process. That said, casting Ms. Casey was "really difficult."

"We were trying to navigate this odd, complicated character without giving away too much of the story that was about to unfold," the casting director tells EW. "When I saw Dichen audition, it was undeniable that she had exactly what we needed. She had beauty, mystery, complexity, and her instincts were on point from the very beginning. She felt different from everyone else and tonally was a wonderful match."

It wasn't until Lachman landed the role that she finally started to understand who Ms. Casey was.

"Once I got the job, I finally read all of the scripts and had conversations with [creator] Dan [Erickson]," Lachman says. "And that’s when everything began to change for me in terms of where Ms. Casey, and by extension Gemma, was coming from internally."

It took a long time and a lot of work, but Lachman ultimately found the final version of the character when it was time to begin filming.

"Ms. Casey’s voice especially started to take shape once we got on set," Lachman says. "It’s not Gemma's voice, but there are aspects of her that had to trickle through Ms. Casey. [Executive producer] Ben [Stiller] was key to dialing into what was needed in terms of tone. John Turturro was an incredible first scene partner, and after that day, I think we all knew how she would fit into the world of Lumon."

Watching Lachman make Ms. Casey (and Gemma!) her own throughout filming the first two seasons has impressed the casting director, especially knowing where it all started in the audition process.

"I loved watching how much warmth, vulnerability, and naiveté Dichen brought to Ms. Casey over the course of filming," Tenner says. "I think in her initial read, she was much more austere and almost practical in her efficiency, but she ultimately brought something truly unique and open and lovely to the role. I loved watching the cast react to this strange bird in their midst."

It all culminated in the explosive season 2 finale, in which Mark finally reunited with Gemma (and, for a moment, Ms. Casey, while they made their way through the severed floor) but refused to leave Lumon with her. Lachman recalls the episode's intense ending as some of the most difficult scenes she's ever filmed.

"The entire final sequence — from Mark extracting Gemma from the Cold Harbor room, to their presumed escape from Lumon, to those excruciating moments at the hallway door — is one of the most technically and emotionally challenging things I’ve ever had to execute in front of a camera," Lachman says. "The pressure of nailing something like that can be daunting for any actor, but with a scene partner like Adam and a director like Ben, I felt truly empowered and prepared to seize this enormous moment, and this life-changing character."

[notiddygothgf]

21. Freedom

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ It'll pass. ❞

★ c.w.: hayakawa family, aki being perfect, legal divorce jargon, emotional lowkey idk.

★ a/n: so how we feeling about that last chapter lol.... ANYWAYYYYYYY!!! to make up for that emotional rollercoaster, this one is comprised of the afteraffects of the divorce. it realistically should have been two chapters but i didn't want to bore yall so I crammed it all into one! i'm not gonna say too much, but enjoy the calm!! ugh i loved writing soft aki this chapter has such a soft spot in my heart. i hope you all enjoy it too!! pls leave all ur beautiful comments, they inspire me to update quicker!!!

★ w.c: .10k

shameless ; chapter index

LATER THAT NIGHT, in bed with your knight in shining armor, you sat awake with his laptop propped up on your legs. The harsh blue light from the screen practically burned your eyes. A few inches away, Aki was fast asleep, boyish features relaxed after a long and tedious day. A notepad lay open on the nightstand.

You were scanning through the search engine results for divorce attorneys in your area. A few names and faces popped up, but so far nothing had caught your eye – still, because you couldn't afford to be picky, you were noting them down, taking down numbers and names for future reference. Ideally, you would be able to call around tomorrow to see who could bring you through the divorce process under short notice.

Furrowing your brows, you sighed, dropping your head into your hands – the fight playing on repeat in the back of your mind.

"Is she hurt?"

"I'll fucking kill you."

"I'm taking you home."

You massaged your temples, feeling an awful lot like the future divorcee you were. You could see why so many people went off the deep end during the whole process. Hell, it had just started for you, and you were already at your wit's end.

And, of course, there was the doubt – the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, you were making a mistake. You were no longer in any position to go back. Still, you had made mistake once by marrying Tanimoto. You were terrified of making the same one with Aki.

But he's not Tanimoto, you reminded yourself. In fact, the two couldn't have possibly been more different. Where Tanimoto was strong-headed and cocky, Aki was kind and patient. He waited for you to come around so many different times – put up with a great deal of your emotional turmoil – and still stuck around. 

He was crazy about you. He had shown you that much from the very beginning. You had just been too blind to see that you were just as crazy about him.

"The apartment down the hall is up for lease, I've heard. It's not exactly the same as your house, but it could be a start," Aki tilted his head slightly, trying to offer a comforting smile, "We could make it work."

He's my peace, you thought, drumming your fingers on the keys of Aki's laptop absentmindedly before closing out the tab with the attorneys and opening a new one. Into the search bar, you typed in the name of Aki's apartment complex. Surprisingly enough, it popped up on the first page. How techy.

You scrolled through their page for a while, pursuing the site like you weren't currently nestled in bed with one of the complex's tenants. Then, clicking on the option for vacant housing, you looked at some of the options they had available. 

1 bedroom, you clicked.

Then, casting a stray glance at your lover, you softened, watching him sleep for a moment – the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the flush in his cheeks, the way his lips were parted ever-so-slightly. His hair was touseled, laying wildly over the white pillowcase. Above all else, he looked like he was at peace.

In a moment, this could all disappear, you thought. Hesitantly, you traced a line from his cheek to his forehead, reveling in the way he twitched beneath your touch. He could disappear. It's not uncommon in our line of work.

And then, you realized that you didn't care. You couldn't care less about the fact that this – all of this – could be gone tomorrow. All it took was one look at him for you to come to an understanding; you would rather have a minute with him than live a lifetime without him – hell, without the little family the two of you had created between the two of you and the two gremlins. You loved it all enough to know that, however fleeting it might be, you wanted to ride until the last stop.

You imagined a life with Aki – the domesticity of it. You imagined waking up in your own bedroom, right next to his. A space you could call your own for the first time. A place you were free to decorate as you pleased. You imagined walking into the kitchen and – rather than finding that your husband had left without a goodbye again – find him standing there before the stove, cooking breakfast for you. Would he turn to you when he heard your footsteps? Would his permanent scowl soften into that lovestruck grin he always seemed to wear around you? Would he lean down and kiss you good-morning, voice raspy with sleep?

And then, you imagined the other two. You imagined Denji and Power running into the kitchen, fighting with you about portion sizing while you set the table. Denji would ask an invasive question, as he typically did, and Power would inevitably run around flaunting her glory in the way that only she could. 

Would you look at all of that and finally be able to think 'This is home'?

You went back a page, clicking 4 Bedrooms instead. You know, just to humor yourself. That's all.

7:45 AM

TANIMOTO: Today's our check out day. I need your hotel key by 11.

TANIMOTO: and if you want your stuff, come get it.

The elevator jolted slightly as you pressed the button for the proper floor, the soft hum of machinery filling the small space. It felt suffocating inside of it – you exhaled, slow and steady, watching the numbers climb. It's just a quick stop,you reminded yourself. In and out. He can't hurt you.

Worst came to worst, Aki was waiting outside in the car, having had insisted upon driving you in case your husband tried anything funny. His words of encouragement played in the back of your mind like a mantra:

"You don't have to explain yourself to him. I'll be waiting outside. If you're not back in 20 minutes, I'll come up there and find you. If he tries to lay a finger on you, just text me. I'll be there quicker than flies on shit."

In. Out. Your chest rose and then fell again.

"I love you. You can do this. I love you."

His words had been firm, steady, grounding in the way they always seemed to be. Now, as you rode up to the floor where you knew your husband was staying for the first time in God knows how long, you held onto them. Carried them in your mind, in your chest like a protective talisman. 

Aki's fingers had been tight around the steering wheel as he told you, "Get in, get out. Don't give him the chance to pull you back in."

The soft chime of the elevator reaching its destination pulled you back to the present. You straightened out slightly, exhaling again, smoothing your hands out over the sleeves of your sweater – the one you had borrowed from Aki's closet earlier that morning.

Can I really do this? You couldn't help but wonder. Still, your heart was steady – like it knew you had no other choice.

Just in, then out, you reminded yourself.

Yet, as the doors slid open, you hesitated before stepping out into the empty, quiet hallway. The number 400 glared at you. It wasn't the right room, but you were close. Closer than you had been since... well, since he had grabbed you by the collar that night at the party. Closer than you had been since you watched him get pummeled into the ground by the very same man who stole you away from him.

The numbers ticked up as you continued down the hall. 401, 403, 406, 409, 412.

Your heart was racing in your chest by the time you turned to your left and saw those numbers you had been dreadingseeing – 413.

The number 413 loomed in front of you, an impassable threshold between past and present. You exhaled, slow and measured, and raised a fist to knock. For a moment, you hesitated, staring at the peeling paint on the doorframe, the tarnished brass of the room number. Your fingers curled in on themselves. It would be so easy to turn around, to walk away. But you weren't that person anymore. You forced yourself to knock.

The door opened almost instantly. Tanimoto stood in the doorway, his face shadowed by the dim overhead light. A dark bruise swelled around his left eye, his lower lip cracked and healing. The sight of it made something cold settle in your stomach. He looked different—hollow, diminished.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, uncertain.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, keeping your expression unreadable. The weight of everything between you pressed down on your chest, but you pushed through it. "I came for my stuff."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. His hand flexed at his side like he wanted to reach for you but thought better of it. "Right. Yeah." After a moment's hesitation, he stepped aside, giving you space to enter.

The room was surprisingly neat, stripped of the usual signs of his disorder. Your duffel bag sat near the door, already packed. A small act of consideration that did nothing to soothe the wariness in your bones.

"I packed everything for you," he said, voice careful, almost measured. "Figured that's what you wanted."

You nodded, stepping forward. Your fingers brushed over the bag's zipper, checking its weight. Everything felt accounted for. But you still had the lingering thought that something was missing—not a possession, but something deeper, something intangible.

Tanimoto lingered near the door, watching you with an unreadable expression. "I'm ready to go too," he added, as if that would change something.

You reached for the handle and turned toward him. "Thank you." It was clipped, distant. Still, you bowed your head slightly in acknowledgment, a final courtesy before leaving this part of your life behind.

Just as you moved to leave, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

Your body locked up instantly. The air in your lungs turned sharp, unsteady. His grip wasn't bruising, wasn't forceful, but it didn't need to be. A part of you recoiled before your mind even caught up, instincts long trained to flinch at his touch.

"Wait, I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, his fingers releasing you just as fast. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, looking exhausted, defeated. "I just... do you wanna get coffee or something? I think we should talk."

Your heart pounded, but not from fear. From anger. From frustration. From everything you had buried deep just to make it this far.

"There's nothing to talk about." Your voice was firm, your body already half-turned toward the door.

"Please," he tried again. "I just—I wanna talk, that's all." His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying something more. But you didn't care.

You sighed, shaking your head. "I'm leaving, Tanimoto. He's waiting for me outside."

His jaw tensed, but he didn't move. His hands clenched at his sides as he took a slow breath. "I just want you to explain why—where this is all coming from."

Your lips parted, but instead of answering, you heard Aki's voice in your head. "You don't have to explain yourself to him."

Your expression hardened. "I don't have to explain myself to you." The words were clipped, sharp, a finality in them that left no room for argument. "You lost that right the moment you started hitting me."

His face paled. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His shoulders sagged as the weight of your words sunk in, as if he were only now realizing the full impact of his actions.

You turned toward the door, but he shifted, stepping into your path.

Your fingers twitched toward your phone. Aki was just downstairs. But no. You wouldn't call for help. Not this time.

Instead, you straightened. "I'm seeing a lawyer."

His expression cracked. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something, but the words never made it past his throat.

"Please, don't leave."

Your fingers tightened around your bag's handle. "You're too late."

Tanimoto's shoulders slumped. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "I don't want a divorce."

You met his gaze, unflinching. "It doesn't matter what you want anymore, Tanimoto."

He swallowed hard, his face a storm of emotions. He was losing you, and he knew it. The realization was written all over his face.

"I'll bring you the papers soon," you continued. "Until then, don't contact me. If you refuse to meet up and agree to terms, it will have to be resolved in court." Your voice was steady, unwavering. "And if we go to court, I will bring up everything you've done. Everything you don't want getting out."

The silence between you was suffocating. He knew exactly what you meant. The bruises, the excuses, the nights spent walking on eggshells. It would all be laid bare.

"If you want this to be done peacefully," you said finally, "then I suggest that you cooperate."

He didn't say anything.

You nodded once. "Excuse me."

This time, when you reached for the door, he didn't stop you.

You stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind you. The tension in your shoulders slowly began to unravel, bit by bit, with every step you took toward the elevator.

And just like that, it was done.

The office smelled of old paper and polished wood, the scent of ink lingering in the air like a tangible reminder of the bureaucracy that would soon unfold. You sat stiffly in the leather chair across from an attorney – Kaya Fujimoto – hands folded tightly in your lap, fingers laced together as if to hold yourself steady. The room was neat, precise, the kind of place where every detail had been carefully curated to exude control. If only you felt that way.

The attorney, a woman in her late fifties with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense air, adjusted her glasses and gave a polite but professional nod. "I appreciate you coming in today. I understand you're here to begin the process of filing for divorce."

You swallowed, nodded. "Yes."

The attorney folded her hands on the desk. "All right. To start, I need to get a full picture of your financial and legal situation. The first thing I want to ask is, do you and your husband own any shared assets?"

"Yes," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to speak with more clarity. "We own a house together."

The attorney didn't look surprised, simply nodding as she made a note on the yellow legal pad in front of her. "Is the house fully paid off, or is there a mortgage?"

"There's still a mortgage. We bought it together a few years ago. Both of our names are on it."

The attorney clicked her pen, jotting something down. "That will complicate things slightly, but it's manageable. Now, do you both contribute to the mortgage payments equally? Or is one of you primarily responsible?"

You hesitated. "We've both paid into it. We have a joint account, and the mortgage is withdrawn from there every month."

The attorney nodded again. "That brings me to my next question—joint finances. Do you and your husband share any bank accounts beyond the one you mentioned? Savings accounts, investments, anything else of significance?"

"We share all of our money," you admitted, the words heavy on your tongue. "We never separated finances. Everything goes into one place."

For the first time, the attorney's gaze lifted fully from the notepad, studying you carefully. "And who primarily controls those funds?"

The question made you shift in your seat. "It's... technically both of us, but he usually handles the big decisions. I don't go through every transaction."

"Has he ever restricted your access to money? Prevented you from withdrawing funds, or monitored your spending?"

You knew what the attorney was asking, and for a fleeting moment, you considered being honest. But you had already decided—you wouldn't bring that into this. You wouldn't give him that power over your case, wouldn't let this become a battle of accusations and counterclaims.

"No," you said, carefully neutral. "We've just always used the same account."

The attorney held your gaze for a moment longer, as if weighing your answer. Then, nodding, she returned to her notes. "Okay. Since there is no financial separation, everything in that account is considered marital property. This includes any savings, investments, or debts in both of your names. Divorce proceedings will determine how those assets are divided."

The weight in your chest grew heavier. You had spent so long trying to separate yourself from him, to untangle yourself from the life you had built together, and yet here you were, realizing how deeply enmeshed you still were.

"I need to ask," the attorney continued, her voice steady, "is there a prenuptial agreement in place?"

You shook your head. "No."

This time, the attorney exhaled softly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "That means that, legally, all assets accumulated during your marriage are subject to division. Without a prenuptial agreement, there's no predetermined structure for how things will be split. We'll need to negotiate that through the divorce."

Your stomach twisted. You had known this, in theory, but hearing it stated so plainly made it real. You had spent years building a life with him, and now you would have to fight for your share of it.

"I assume there's no formal postnuptial agreement either?" the attorney asked.

"No. Nothing like that."

The attorney tapped the pen against the legal pad. "All right. The house will likely be the biggest point of contention. Typically, there are a few options. You can sell the home and split the proceeds, one party can buy out the other's share, or—depending on the situation—one spouse may retain ownership, with financial compensation provided to the other. Do you have a preference?"

You shivered, thinking about all of the memories that lived in that damned house – like ghosts.

You hesitated. "I don't want the house."

The attorney paused, flipping through a few pages before looking back at you. "Are you prepared for the possibility that he may not cooperate? If he refuses to sell the house or give you your share, we may have to take the matter to court."

Your fingers tightened on your lap. "I don't want to go to court," you said, your voice low but firm, as if speaking the words aloud would solidify your resolve. "I just want to be done with him, with all of this." You gestured vaguely, as if the walls of the office were somehow closing in on you. "If that means I walk away without getting the full value of the house, I'll take it. Whatever gets me out of this faster."

The attorney's sharp eyes studied you for a moment, then she nodded, understanding the weight behind your words. "I understand. Divorce is often more about the emotional closure than the financial settlement. But you should be aware that his refusal to comply can still delay things. It won't be over quickly, even if you take the loss."

"I don't care," you replied quietly, almost to yourself. "I just need it over."

The attorney held your gaze for a moment longer, then gave a small, acknowledging nod. "I'll make a note of that. It's important to know what you're willing to accept, and it sounds like you're ready to move on. But just be clear—if he's uncooperative, I will do everything in my power to ensure you're not taken advantage of."

Your throat tightened, but you nodded in return. "Thank you."

"What if he refuses to sign the... uh... the papers?"

"Then we take it to court. Judges don't look kindly on one party trying to hold the other hostage in a divorce."

You nodded, absorbing the information. The attorney's calm, methodical approach made it easier to stomach, but it didn't change the reality of what you were about to step into.

"As for your finances," the attorney continued, "I strongly recommend you open a personal bank account immediately and begin transferring your share of the funds. Since everything is joint, your husband has equal access. If he suspects a divorce is imminent, he could drain the account before proceedings begin."

Your breath caught slightly. You hadn't thought of that, but you should have. "How much should I take?"

"Half," the attorney said without hesitation. "That's what you're entitled to. If he challenges it, we can address it in negotiations. But do not leave yourself financially vulnerable."

You nodded, making a mental note to do it as soon as you got home. The thought of him realizing you had moved the money made your stomach churn, but the alternative—being left with nothing—was far worse.

"That leads me to my next point," the attorney said. "Divorces can be civil, or they can be contentious. Based on what you've told me, I want you to be prepared for the possibility that he will contest the terms. It may be beneficial to gather any financial records, emails, or messages that support your contributions to the marriage. Documentation can be invaluable if disputes arise."

You let out a slow breath. "I understand."

The attorney closed her legal pad and offered a small, reassuring smile. "This process can be overwhelming, but you're not alone. My job is to ensure you leave this marriage with what you're legally entitled to."

For the first time since stepping into the office, you felt the smallest sliver of relief.

You had spent so long feeling trapped. Now, for the first time, you were beginning to see the way out.

"Thank you," You smiled. "I really do appreciate it."

That evening, after you came home from the attorney's office, you entered Aki's apartment. He had texted you earlier to let you know that he'd left the door unlocked for you. You assumed that he had said that because he was asleep or in the shower, or something of the sort, so you were a little surprised to see the outline of his lean form perched over the balcony. 

Still, kicking your shoes off, you entered the space that had become your home and followed him out there.

He was still wearing his Public Safety uniform – clearly just recently having clocked out – leaning over the ledge with a cigarette perched between his fingers. His hair was down, and it looked almost blue beneath the moonlight. As blue as his tired eyes were when he turned slowly to meet your gaze.

"Hey, troublemaker," He smiled – softly, though there was a hint of fatigue that lingered behind it, like the work day had drained him.

"Hey, Baby," You replied, walking up a little closer and then slipping your hands around his waist. It all felt so natural, so easy. It felt like coming home after being at war. When you buried your nose into his back, you smelled that beautiful aroma that was so distinctly him – his detergent, the warm notes of his cologne, hints of smoke from the stick between his fingertips. 

"Baby," He hummed. "I don't think you've ever called me that outside of the bedroom."

You grinned, face flushing, nuzzling your cheek into his back. Truthfully, the nickname had slipped out. It felt so natural, you hadn't even realized you'd said it.

Then, he sighed, shoulders slumping. His hand rested over yours, drawing shapes over your clasped fingertips. 

"Rough day at work?" You asked.

He chuckled, "You have no idea."

"I don't, you're right," You replied, "I can't imagine being a Captain, truthfully. Having to think for everyone – I'd much rather take orders."

"I'm not even gonna comment on that last part 'cause my mind's in the gutter," Aki huffed out a quiet little laugh. When you shoved him forward, he pulled a hit from his cigarette, continuing, "How was the meeting?"

He turned around to face you, then, wrapping you in the tightest bear hug he could manage. For a second, you felt as if you had died and gone to heaven. You wouldn't mind suffocating in his arms.

"Provincial," You smiled. "She told me I'm entitled to half of the income and... God, a whole lot of other legal jargon. I'm so over it."

"It'll be worth it when you're free," Aki hummed in response, cigarette perched between his lips. Faintly, a few feet away, a CD player was playing some tune you faintly recognized. It sounded like something from the 80's. Mindlessly, perhaps, you began to swing back and forth.

"That's what I'm trying to remind myself," You rested your head on his chest, letting him continue to swing you back and forth to the beat. It was somewhere between swaying and dancing – content to bask in each other's presence. Your hand snaked its way up his arm, "Let me get a hit of that?"

You plucked the smoldering cigarette out from between his fingers and held it up to your own lips. As Aki continued to move you side to side to the rhythm of the song, you breathed in, feeling the smoke enter your lungs, the nicotine slip into your veins – and then breathed out. 

When you were finished, you stubbed the cigarette out and flicked it over the edge of the balcony. You had gotten your fix, and you were now content to lose to yourself in the rhythm, in the little bubble the two of you had created. For a minute, you weren't just a twenty-something on the edge of a divorce, a Public Safety worker with a ticking clock over her head – for a minute, it was just you and your lover, swaying together beneath Tokyo's evening skyline with your head on his chest. Below your cheek, his heart beat steadily, a reminder that this was all real.

"I love you," you sighed.

Aki tilted your chin up so that you were eye-to-eye with him, "I love you more."

Then he was leaning down – quite a bit, as he was a great deal taller than you were – and his lips were on yours, gentle and languid, as if he had all of the time in the world to kiss you. You sighed into it, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer – all the while swaying to the song. 

"I have nothing left except you now, remember that," You breathed out. It was true. Once the divorce was through, you'd have no one else but Aki to pick up the pieces (the way he always did).

"How could I forget?" He smiled, pressing a kiss to your crown, gazing down at you with that starstruck look – like you were the only thing he had ever wanted, "You're my happiness, my everything."

And then, on the balcony of your not-quite-boyfriend's apartment, swinging to the beat of some song you couldn't name if someone paid you, swaddled in his arms, you realized that things really would turn out okay. As long as you had him by your side, you could handle anything.

YOU: I have the papers, and I would like to meet up in person as soon as possible so you can sign off on it.

YOU: please be mindful that this is the peaceful way to do things. I'll be out of your hair in no time.

Typing...

TANIMOTO: Okay. When should we meet?

YOU: Tomorrow?

TANIMOTO: Yeah, that works.

YOU: Great. I'll go to Kyoto. We can discuss terms over coffee.

Typing...

TANIMOTO: I miss you, yk that?

Seen 11:42 PM

Two weeks had passed since your first consultation with the attorney. Two weeks of what felt like an endless back-and-forth – tied between days with Aki, at home and at work. Two weeks of living with the Hayakawa "family" (and resolving the numerous arguments that broke out between the three. Denji always had something to do with it). Two weeks of bliss combined with the greatest headache ever – the process of a legal separation from your soon-to-be ex husband. 

Two weeks had passed, and now that you were here, you were having doubts. Unreasonable doubts, sure. You knew you wanted this, but they were doubts nonetheless

Two weeks, and now you were seated in the backseat of a busy cafe with the divorce papers neatly stacked and stapled together in your lap. You had spent countless days reading over all of the terms and conditions your attorney had drafted up. Four pages. Four perfect, white pages, each detailing some aspect of the divorce. It felt like a brick in your lap, heavy and uncertain.

And, as you ran your eyes over the front page one last time, just to make sure that you really wanted to go through with everything, the bell at the top of the cafe's door rang, and Tanimoto walked in. 

He was dressed like it was just another normal day. White dress shirt, Public Safety suit jacket buttoned up – he looked as if he had just gotten off of work. If your memory served you correct, he usually worked until four in the afternoon on Wednesdays. That would mean that he came straight from Public Safety by train.

The two of you had agreed to meet halfway in the middle at a cafe he had recommended in Narai-juku. The train ride wasn't unreasonable, but it did nothing for your nerves to know that you were here alone. Aki was in town with Denji and Power, undoubtedly being suckered into the arcade Denji had spotted in the cab on the way over just up the block. He was a call away, as always, upon his insistence, but he wasn't sitting across from you.

No, instead, it was Tanimoto that sat down, solemn expression worn on his tired face, hair looking utterly disheveled. His eyes were baggy, like he hadn't slept. The one on the left still wore the remnants of a black eye, a painful reminder of the fight he had gotten into.

For a moment, neither of you exchanged greetings. What more was there to say?

Wordlessly, you set the document on the table. It felt a lot heavier than it actually was. Tanimoto seemed to mirror your hesitance on a much greater level, eyes already hazy. He stared down at the packet between the two of you like he couldn't believe it, like the years the two of you had spent together were flashing through his mind. 

"This doesn't feel real," He finally acknowledged the elephant in the room.

Tanimoto's fingers hovered over the stack of papers before he finally reached for them. He exhaled sharply, as if bracing himself, then flipped open the first page. His movements were sluggish, like he was deliberately slowing time, drawing this out longer than it needed to be. 

You sat perfectly still, watching as his eyes moved across the first few lines, the muscles in his jaw tightening with every word he absorbed. His thumb ran absentmindedly along the edge of the paper, the same way he used to trace lazy circles against your wrist when he held your hand. You forced yourself to look away. 

That was another lifetime ago. 

His voice, quiet and strained, finally cut through the silence. "So, other than half of the money, you're not asking for anything," he murmured, not quite a question, but more of a realization. 

You nodded, shifting in your seat. "I don't need anything from you. I just want a clean break." 

He lifted his head. "And the, uh... the house?" 

The house. The house you had once called a home. Four white walls, sleek modern interior, a place you had never quite felt was your own.

You swallowed. "It's yours." 

His lips parted slightly, as if taken aback. His gaze searched yours, as if waiting for you to change your mind. 

"I'm looking to downsize," you continued, voice steady. "I have some apartments I'm already looking at in Tokyo." 

"With Captain Hayakawa, right? You're..." He swallowed like it hurt him to do so, "You're moving in together, aren't you?"

You weren't planning on it. Hell, you hadn't even started showing some of the listings to Aki yet to get his opinion. Everything was so... up in the air. 

Plus, you would never ask him that. Living with someone was a commitment, something not far from marriage. Aki was still young. You doubted he would want to give up the space he'd been inhabiting for so long just to share one with you.

Still... you had endured Tanimoto's abuse for years. You wanted to milk it a little longer.

"That's none of your business, honestly," You replied. 

He let out a sharp breath through his nose, shaking his head. "Guess you've got it all figured out." 

You said nothing. There was nothing left to say. 

The café buzzed around you—muffled conversations, the hiss of steaming milk, the rhythmic clinking of cups against saucers. Outside, the sky had deepened into a dusky shade of blue, streaked with the last traces of sunlight. It was the kind of evening you once would have spent together, sharing a quiet meal or walking home side by side. 

Now, you sat on opposite ends of a table, separated by a mere few inches and a lifetime of things left unsaid. 

Tanimoto turned another page, skimming over the terms like he wasn't really reading them. His hand rested on the corner of the stack, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the paper. 

Then, after a long pause, he exhaled and leaned back. "Should I take this home?" he asked, rubbing at his temple. "Go over it a little more before signing?" 

You shook your head without hesitation. "No. I want you to sign them here." 

His lips pressed into a thin line. 

"I took the evening off," you added, folding your hands in your lap. "I have time to wait." 

Tanimoto let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head again, but he didn't argue. Instead, he flipped through the final few pages, slower this time. His expression hardened, but beneath the forced indifference, you could see it—the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, the tight set of his shoulders. 

You knew that look. It was the same one he wore when he was trying not to let something hurt. 

And then, without looking up, he said, "I don't have a pen." 

You had expected this. You figured he would try and pull a stunt at the last minute.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a sleek black pen and placed it on the table between you. "That's okay," you said, voice soft. "I brought one." 

A breath of laughter left him, quiet and bitter. "Of course you did." He picked up the pen, turning it between his fingers, as if testing its weight. Then, finally, he looked at you. His eyes were glassy, reflecting the warm light overhead, and for a moment, he didn't speak. 

"Look," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know about this..." 

Your chest tightened. You swallowed against the lump in your throat. 

"Don't," you said, cutting him off. "Don't do this. Please. Just sign the papers." 

His grip on the pen tightened, his knuckles paling. "I don't want to lose you." 

It was barely a whisper, but it still hit like a punch to the ribs. 

For a second, you almost faltered. You almost let the years you had spent together, the familiarity of him, the ache in his voice, shake your resolve. 

But then you heard Aki's voice in your head, steady and sure. 

"Stay strong."

You blinked, steadying your breath. "You'll lose a lot more than just me if you don't sign off on the terms," you said, and even though it hurt, even though your throat burned from holding back the emotion threatening to break through, you didn't waver. "This is the best way to do it. Please, just... just sign it." 

A heavy silence settled between you, thick and suffocating. You could feel him watching you, searching for something—hesitation, regret, anything that would let him believe there was still a chance. 

But you had made your choice. 

Tanimoto exhaled, long and unsteady. His shoulders dropped, and his head tilted slightly downward, his eyes falling to the paper in front of him. 

"If this will make you happy," he muttered, pressing the tip of the pen to the page, "then I'll be glad I did at least one thing right." 

You knew what he was doing. He wanted to make you doubt. To make you regret. 

And maybe, in some small way, it was working. 

But you forced yourself to remember why you were doing this. 

Tanimoto picked up the pen with a trembling hand, steadying it over the line at the end of the packet. Then, hesitating slightly, he scribbled his signature down, ink pressing deep into the paper.

And you exhaled. Finally, For the first time in thirty seconds, you breathed out.

It's over. It's finally over.

You stood up only a moment later, grabbing your coffee and the papers before he could change his mind. "I'll come by the house and pick up my stuff while you're at work sometime this week," You hummed, sticking the papers into the folder in your purse. When you were all zipped up and ready to go, you looked him one last time – got a real good look at him because you knew you might never see him again after all was said and done.

And he was crying. His eyes were wide and watery, tears streaming gently down his cheeks – it was something you hadn't seen him do before... ever. Lips trembling, he whispered, "You don't have to do this. It's not too late to call it off."

That's the thing about abusers. They're very convincing. You felt the waterworks building up in your own eyes, biting your lip to keep them at bay. A stray tear slipped out, down your cheek – one you quickly wiped away. He wasn't worth any more of those.

"This is goodbye, Tanimoto," You said the words you had been aching to say for so long. As you breathed them out into the air, you felt lighter, somehow, like a weight had been lifted. Then, turning on your heel, you made your way towards the door.

"Will I ever see you again?" He called after you, making you pause mid-step. 

A shopgoer passed you by. Then another. Your coffee felt heavy in your palm, hot enough to burn the tender skin there. 

Slowly, then, you looked back at him – at the pathetic man who had once been your husband, and felt the weight of the papers in your bag. 

"Stay strong," Aki's voice echoed in your head one final time.

Then, you straightened out, answering, "With all due respect, I hope not."

You didn't wait for his response. You didn't even spare him one last glance.

Instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the café, pushing the door open with more force than necessary. The bell above jingled in protest.

The evening air hit you like a slap to the face—cool, crisp, and sharp enough to sting against the heat of your skin. Your feet moved on their own, faster than they needed to, carrying you up the block as though you could outrun the weight of what had just happened. The coffee in your hand sloshed dangerously against the rim, but you hardly noticed.

You didn't stop. Not when the streetlights flickered on overhead. Not when a group of people passed by, chatting about something insignificant. Not even when you realized you had started trembling.

It wasn't until you turned a corner, out of sight from the café, that it hit you all at once.

The tears came before you could stop them—silent, hot, and endless. Your breath hitched, and then you were sobbing, shoulders heaving, body curling inward as if you could fold yourself small enough to disappear.

You doubled over, your free hand gripping your stomach like you had been physically struck. It hurt. God, it hurt.

Then, you dropped into a squat, setting your coffee down and curling into a ball.

People were staring. You could feel their eyes on you, confused and mildly concerned. Some of them hesitated mid-step, as if debating whether to approach. Others simply walked around you, pretending not to see.

You didn't care.

You didn't even know why you were crying. He was horrible to you. He had torn you down piece by piece, made you question yourself, made you feel like you were nothing. You should be relieved. You should be free.

But all you could feel was the sharp, crushing weight of the years you had wasted on him. Of the love you had given so freely, only for it to be twisted into something unrecognizable.

A hand touched your back.

You flinched at the contact, but before you could jerk away, you recognized the warmth of it. The familiarity.

Aki.

He didn't say anything at first. Just stood beside you, solid and unwavering, as if anchoring you in place. His touch was firm but careful, rubbing slow, grounding circles into your back.

When you finally dared to lift your head, you saw the bouquet of white flowers in his other hand.

Your breath hitched.

Aki was watching you, his expression unreadable beneath the dim streetlight, but his eyes—his eyes told you everything. He knew. He knew what this meant for you. He had known before you had even walked into that café.

Behind him, Denji and Power stood a few feet away, both staring at you like you had just grown a second head.

Denji's mouth was half-open, like he was about to say something, but for once, he didn't. Power nudged him, but even she stayed uncharacteristically silent.

"You two go ahead and buy some icecream over there. I'll be right behind you," Aki rustled around in his pocket and slapped a bill into Denji's hand, "Give us a minute."

The two of them pissed off rather quickly then, practically skipping off with the money – their hunched over kinda-roommate long forgotten. Then it was just you on the floor and Aki, towering over you.

"You okay?" He asked, breaking the silence. "I got these flowers for you. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

There was an unspoken threat behind his words, an unspoken "Do I need to go over there and talk to him?". On any other day, you would have cracked a smile at it.

Instead, you shook your head, "I don't... know why I'm crying."

He sighed, then knelt down to your level. Long fingers reached out to cradle your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear and out of your face. "It's a lot to process, Honey. Being strong doesn't always feel good."

You sniffled back, "I guess you're right."

"Stand up," He smiled at you – not with teeth, but a lippy smile, like he was head over heels for you, even when you were... like that. "We can talk about it when you're ready, okay?"

"I'm ready now, I just..." You stood up, shivering at the gust of wind that blew your way. You tugged at the sleeves of Aki's sweater around your wrists. "It's just hard. I mean, we were married for quite some time, and I just... I have so much to say. So much to feel."

Aki wrapped you in his embrace – his warmth, and you melted against his much taller body. And, for a moment, nothing more had to be said. He understood everything.

"It'll pass," Was all he said in response. 

"I feel like I just let an entire marriage go," You asked, "Will it really get better?"

"It'll get easier every day," He replied, bringing a hand up to massage the back of your scalp. "Plus, I'll be with you every step of the way."

You leaned into his touch, his embrace, and let the tears begin to flow again, carelessly soaking his sweater. He held you through it, whispering words of endearment and cooing in your ear.

"I want you to call your lawyer up and tell her you're gonna drop the papers off tomorrow," He added.

Your heart squeezed at the sound of it – at the sound of his voice, at the idea that you were that much closer to being done with your husband, you weren't entirely sure which one. 

"He told me it's not too late to back down, Aki," You sighed. "I'm scared."

"We can take it one step at a time," He replied easily. "Wanna talk about it over ice cream?"

You looked at him – at your lover, then up at the pearly blue sky. It seemed like it was a little brighter that afternoon, a little more colorful. Faintly, hues of pink were beginning to creep onto the skyline. You took a moment to take it all in.

Then, you smiled, "Yeah... I would like that."

Aki released you from his hold, only to take your hand up in his own and place a chaste kiss to the back of it. 

You had heard people tell you that freedom came with a great deal of difficulty, that it often took a while to start feeling good. You agreed. Now that you had the signed papers in your bag, you didn't know how to feel – what to make of everything. 

Still, you felt a little better knowing that you were walking towards freedom hand-in-hand with the man you loved.

You were well on your way to separation with your not-quite-ex husband. The divorce papers were signed, dated, and dropped off at the attorney's office earlier in the morning. The only thing left? 

Packing. So much of it. For a moment, you wondered if you would even be able to pack away your twenties. Would they be able to fit in the cardboard boxes you had picked up? Would you be able to carry them, or would the crushing weight of the divorce be too much to handle?

On the ride over, you had plenty of time to think about it. You and Aki had rented a moving truck from one of those moving chains, and in the back were a few piles of cardboard boxes. Oh, and the other two. Denj and Power were having the time of their lives back there, sitting criss-crossed applesauce on the floor while Aki drove. In his words, they were devils, and if they got injured on the way over, he would just have to give them some blood whenever they got home and they would be as good as new.

Your hands were neatly folded in your lap. Five hours into the five-and-a-half hour commute, and it was safe to say that you were going insane. The papers were sent in – it was final, no going back. Could you finally call yourself a free woman? 

After all of those years?

One look at Aki and his glorious side profile – sharp angles and boyish eyes illuminated by the sunlight filtering in through the window behind the two of you – and you knew that going back was never an option. Not after you met him, anyway.

You glanced at the kids in the back. Currently, they were playing one of the board games they had brought along for the ride. Checkers, it looked like. Denji moved a black piece right as the truck hit a bump in the road, and their progress went flying.

Denji slammed his hands down on the ground, "Dammit, ponytail, you SUCK at driving!"

"Get a license, then we'll talk," He grumbled back. "Fuckin' freeloader."

You laughed, cheeks pulled taut at the corners. "Be nice, Aki."

"He's been getting on my nerves the entire car ride," Aki turned to you briefly, blue eyes narrowed into slits. He gestured towards the road. On the radio, one of his CDs was playing a quiet tune. "Are we there yet, this and I have to piss, that."

"I'm pretty sure this is the longest he's ever been in a car," You tried to add.

"If he's lucky, I won't pack him into a box and fucking leave him in here," He hissed at you.

"Eat a bag of dicks," Denji piped up from the back.

There was a tick in Aki's jaw, then, eyes widening as he shouted into the rearview mirror; "Go fuck yourself."

"Kids, please," You cut in. "There's only thirty minutes left. Can we please be nice?" You gestured to the road exasperatedly, "Left at the light, by the way."

The road stretched long and open before you, the low hum of Aki's music filling the car. The quiet tune had blended into the background hours ago, like the rhythm of the tires against the pavement, like the steady presence of the man beside you. The golden glow of the setting sun slanted through the windshield, bathing the dashboard in soft, flickering light. Outside, the landscape rolled by in a blur of greens and browns, endless fields giving way to clusters of trees, and the occasional gas station sign flickering against the dimming sky.

"Left at the light," you reminded him, voice soft, watching as the green overhead turned yellow.

Aki nodded, fingers flexing on the wheel before smoothly guiding the car into the turn lane. His profile was sharp in the fading light, the angles of his face accentuated by the dusky hues. The sunset caught on the edge of his jawline, turning his skin molten, almost delicate. You wondered, fleetingly, if he knew how easily you could get lost in looking at him. If he could feel the weight of your gaze.

Instead of giving in to the impulse, you settled for words. "It's nice out."

"Yeah," he murmured, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror before returning to the road. "Warm for this time of year."

The soft breeze from the slightly cracked window tousled a few strands of his hair. You resisted the urge to reach out, to tuck them behind his ear. You weren't sure when that particular habit had formed—this desire to smooth the edges of his exhaustion, to make things a little easier for him. Maybe it had been there all along, just waiting for the right moment to surface.

Another lull stretched between you, comfortable but weighted. Then—

"Rent's getting ridiculous lately."

You huffed a small laugh, shifting in your seat. "Tell me about it. Feels like the prices jump every time I check."

Aki drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, an almost absentminded motion. His brows furrowed slightly, as if working through a thought. Then—

"How would you feel about living together?"

The words settled between you, unexpected yet not entirely surprising. Your breath caught for just a fraction of a second. It wasn't as if the idea had never crossed your mind—you'd thought about it in passing, imagined what it might be like to share a space, to wake up and find him already in the kitchen, hair tousled from sleep, brewing his first cup of coffee. But hearing him say it aloud, hearing the intent behind it, made your pulse skip in a way that left you unsteady.

You blinked, fingers tightening around the fabric of your pants. "Like... the—" Your throat bobbed. "The four of us?"

"Yeah." His gaze flickered toward you, brief but searching. "The four of us. Get a bigger place."

Your heart did something odd in your chest—something light and quick and startling. You wanted to say yes, immediately, to latch onto the idea before it could slip through your fingers. Aki wasn't the type to bring things up unless he'd thought them through. If he was asking, that meant he'd considered it. That meant he wanted it.

But—

"Aki, I don't know..." Your voice was hesitant, careful. You could hear the uncertainty in it, the part of you that still held back. "I'll think about it. It's just—moving in with someone so quickly, you know?"

He nodded once, slow and understanding, his grip on the wheel remaining steady. "That's valid." A pause. Then, quieter, "Take as much time as you need. If you say no, I'll totally understand. Just let me know. My lease is up soon, at the end of the year. I'll renew it if you want."

There was something about the way he said it—if you want—that made your chest ache. Like the decision was entirely yours, like he wasn't pushing, just offering. Giving you an out, if you needed it. But the truth was, you didn't want an out. 

The answer wasn't no, You just weren't sure if you were ready to say yes.

You swallowed, nodding slowly. "Yeah, okay. I'll—I'll think about it."

Aki hummed in response, the sound low and thoughtful. He didn't press further, didn't push for a quick decision. He just let the conversation settle into the space between you, quiet but not stifling. It was one of the things you liked about him—the way he let things breathe, the way he never made you feel rushed.

The rest of the drive passed in a silence that felt charged but not uncomfortable. There was something brimming beneath it, something unspoken yet understood. A shift, subtle but unmistakable.

In the back, Denji and Power had finally tired themselves out. The board game lay abandoned between them, the checkers pieces rolling lazily across the floor of the car, forgotten. Power had slumped against the window, mouth slightly open in sleep, while Denji leaned back with his arms crossed, head tilted at an awkward angle. They looked peaceful, in their own chaotic way.

You exhaled slowly, watching as the last traces of sunlight dipped below the horizon. The sky darkened, deep blues bleeding into blacks, the first stars blinking to life above.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were heading somewhere you wanted to be.

The rest of the ride went surprisingly quietly. The weight of Aki's words still lingered in the air, settling somewhere deep in your chest, heavy and uncertain. You watched the scenery blur past the window, streetlights flickering on one by one as dusk fully descended. The once-vivid hues of sunset had bled into an inky darkness, and with it came a creeping anxiety that made your fingers twitch in your lap.

Your keys felt foreign in your hands, the cool metal pressing into your palm as you turned them over absentmindedly. You hadn't used them in what felt like years. Time had stretched and twisted, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly when you had last walked through the doors of this house. The thought made your throat tighten, a lump forming that you stubbornly swallowed down.

Aki parked the car in the driveway, the familiar crunch of gravel beneath the tires sending a shiver down your spine. For a long moment, neither of you moved. The house loomed ahead, quiet and still, its windows dark. It looked smaller than you remembered. Or maybe you had just grown.

"You okay?" Aki's voice was gentle, careful.

You let out a shaky breath, forcing a nod. "Yeah. Just... a lot."

He didn't press further. He never did. Instead, he reached over and squeezed your knee, a quiet reassurance before pulling the key from the ignition. You took that as your cue, slowly stepping out of the car. The air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, the same way it always had.

Your hands trembled as you fit the key into the lock. It turned smoothly, with an ease that made your chest ache. Like the house had been waiting for you to come back. The door creaked open, revealing the dim interior, the familiar scent of aged wood and dust greeting you like an old friend.

Stepping inside felt like stepping into a memory. The floorboards groaned under your weight, the walls holding echoes of years past. You walked further in, fingers brushing against the edge of the doorway, as if grounding yourself in reality. Aki followed behind, his presence solid and steady, the only thing keeping you from feeling like you might dissolve into the past.

Your breath hitched. You had told yourself you wouldn't cry. That you were stronger than this. But the moment your eyes landed on the living room—the worn couch, the coffee table still marked with the rings of old mugs, the bookshelves slightly askew—it all came rushing back. Every laugh, every fight, every late-night conversation that had once filled these walls.

Your husband topped off your glass of champagne with a grin, crooning, "Here's to our first night in our new home."

"Cheers," You replied. Your glasses clinked together in the middle.

"Our future begins here," He laughed.

The first tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Then another. You covered your mouth with your hand, squeezing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to compose yourself.

"Hey." Aki's voice was soft, his hand warm as it found the small of your back. "It's okay."

You shook your head, a choked laugh escaping. "I feel so stupid."

"You're not stupid," he said firmly. "You lived here. Of course it's gonna hit hard."

You turned to him, your vision blurred with tears. He was watching you with quiet understanding, his blue eyes holding none of the impatience or awkwardness you had feared. Just patience. Just Aki.

He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "Be strong."

The words shouldn't have meant so much, but they did. Maybe because they came from him.

You nodded, sniffling. "Okay."

Aki let his hand drop but didn't step away, waiting until you had taken a steadying breath before speaking again. "Where should we start?"

Your gaze drifted up the staircase, heart thudding painfully in your chest. "The bedroom."

He nodded. "Alright."

The creak of each step beneath your feet was like a ghost of the past, whispering stories you weren't ready to hear. The hallway was lined with old photos, their frames slightly crooked. You hesitated at one—an old picture of yourself, caught mid-laugh, a younger version of you that felt like a stranger now.

Aki waited patiently, hands in his pockets, giving you the space to process. When you were ready, you pushed open the bedroom door.

The air inside was thick with nostalgia. The bed was still unmade from the last night you had spent here, as if frozen in time. Your old desk sat by the window, covered in dust, a few forgotten papers scattered across the surface. Everything was still. Untouched.

Aki moved first, stepping toward the closet. "I'll start in here."

You nodded, making your way to the drawers, fingers hovering over the handles before finally pulling one open. Clothes you had long forgotten stared back at you—old sweaters, worn-out T-shirts, a jacket you used to love but hadn't thought about in years.

You picked it up, running your fingers over the fabric. It still smelled faintly of home.

Aki glanced over, watching you carefully. "You wanna keep that one?"

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and nodded. "Yeah."

He didn't question it. Just kept folding, packing, moving forward. The steady rhythm of it was grounding, the quiet presence of him beside you a comfort you hadn't realized you needed.

Piece by piece, the room slowly emptied. Every item placed into a box felt like another part of your past being neatly stored away. It hurt, but it also felt necessary. Like closure.

At some point, Aki sat back on his heels, glancing at you. "You good?"

You looked around the room—at the half-packed boxes, at the dust motes drifting in the air, at the man who had somehow become a constant in your life.

You nodded, a small, exhausted smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think so."

At the end of a long, emotional, and tedious day—during which Denji and Power had a competition to see who could pack up your books the fastest, leading to at least three toppled stacks and a heated argument about what counted as 'packed'—you stood idle in the middle of the remnants of what was once your home.

The house was eerily quiet now. For hours, it had been filled with movement, voices, the rustling of cardboard and tape being stretched over boxes. But now, with everything packed, the silence felt thick, almost suffocating. You turned in place slowly, taking it all in—the empty shelves, the dust-covered corners, the pale outlines on the walls where frames had once hung. It was strange, seeing it like this. A hollowed-out version of what it had once been.

Your fingertips skimmed the edge of the kitchen counter as you walked past it. Every surface felt different, unfamiliar, as if stripping the house of its belongings had also stripped it of its warmth. You had spent years here. Laughed here. Cried here. Loved here.

A lump formed in your throat. You swallowed hard against it.

Aki stood near the doorway, watching you carefully. He wasn't rushing you, just waiting, like he always did. Letting you take your time.

You exhaled shakily and turned your gaze to the boxes stacked neatly near the entrance. Everything you had deemed worth keeping was in those boxes. Everything else was being left behind. It was a sobering thought. You had built a life here once, but now that life was packed away, ready to be carried off to someplace new.

This is it.

Your fingers curled into a loose fist at your side. You weren't sure if you had expected closure, or if you had expected something louder—some final, dramatic feeling to mark the end of this chapter. But all you felt was exhaustion. A quiet, aching kind of finality.

Aki took a step toward you. "You ready?"

You nodded, but it felt more like an instinctive reaction than a real answer. Still, you forced yourself to move. Your steps were slow as you made your way to the counter. The key felt heavier than it should have, the cool metal pressing into your palm as you turned it over one last time.

For years, this key had meant something. It had been yours. It had been home. Now, it was just another thing to let go of.

You placed it on the counter with deliberate care, the soft clink of metal against wood ringing through the empty space. It sounded final. It sounded like goodbye.

You let out a slow breath, staring at it for a moment longer, as if expecting it to change, as if expecting to feel something different now that it was done. But the weight in your chest remained the same.

Aki didn't say anything as you turned back toward him. He didn't need to. His expression was calm, steady, a quiet reassurance in the midst of your uncertainty.

You nodded once. "Let's go."

And with that, you walked to the door. Your hand hesitated on the handle for only a second before you pushed it open, stepping out into the cool night air.

The door clicked shut behind you.

It was only when you took that first step away from the house that something in your chest loosened. The weight that had been pressing down on you all day lifted, if only slightly. You could still feel the sadness, the ache of leaving behind something so familiar—but beneath it, something else stirred.

Relief.

Freedom.

a/n: anndddd just like that its officially over. on a scale of 1-10 how relieved are we? i'm a 12, bc i was the one who had to write all of that bs LMFOAOAOA!! OUR GIRL IS FINALLY FREEEEEE GRRRAAAAAAA!!! i cannot believe this story has come this far. it's drawing to a close in a few chapters, though, and i just wanted to take some time to thank all of you for coming along on this ride. this is officially the longest fanfic ive ever written. i loved writing the development of their relationship theyre so marriage coded.  let me know what ending you hope for!!!! (who knows, I might incorporate it into what i have planned ;))) stay tuned! mama loves u all xx

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[beifong-brainrot]

I really want to see your post about how Katara is forcefully matured by the fandom, please!

Ok, while I wasn't ready to make that post in earnest, and frankly never might be, here's some of my cursory thoughts on the topic. I'd gladly talk about it in detail more but also ✨️fear✨️

So, let's get the obvious out of the way. Katara is a 14 year old. A child, barely a teen. In fact, the entirety of the gaang is made up of children.

Now, I haven't been fully active in the atla fandom in quite some time, mostly lurking on the peripheries, because the fandom is a shitshow. One of the reasons being the fact that most fans cannot, for the life of them handle the Gaang's inherent childishness.

This isn't just a Katara problem. Other than her, Aang suffers the most for the egregious crime of being a 12 year old survivor of a genocide. Suki is, of course, mainly ignored. The interpretations of Toph can vary wildly, from her being horrifically matured to being dissmissed as a chaotic, rude child. Zuko and Sokka's immature moments are looked at more permissively, being an angsty boi™️ and a goofy goober respectively.

I do find it odd that Aang doesn't get the "boys will be boys" pass, but ok, we'll blame it on him being... bald? a nice boy? not concerned with his own masculinity?

As for Katara, her maturity is treated like... a given. She's the mom of the group, the proverbial love interest, the feminist icon, the badass fighter, the trailblazer filled with feminine rage. The trophy wife to Aang, the (Lore Olympus style) Persephone to Zuko's Hades.

And true, she is, or at least can be, a lot of these things.

However she is, first and foremost, a child. This fact is presented to us on a silver platter in the first episode, when her and Aang are penguin sledding.

Katara : I haven't done this since I was a kid!

Aang: You still are a kid!

Katara is a child forced to mature. Her circumstances forced her to try to fill her mother's place and to fight for those who couldn't do so themselves. The fandom brands her as a mom friend. Sees her purely as an icon of empowerment. Or worse, degrades her character to being a love interest.

(im talking about both sides of the kataang/zutara debate. I have my biases, but I'm sure there are kataangers who treat her like this as well. I simply have encountered very few of them.)

Her story, while yes, has many themes of female empowerment is in huge part, a tragedy. The tragedy of a young girl forced to grow up much too soon.

Sadly, this is rarely spoken about. It's not spoken about directly and therefore a lot of the fandom doesn't see this. (Or simply doesn't want to see it)

This is not to say that Katara's more mature aspects should be dismissed or buried. She displays a lot of maturity for her age, to the point of being able to go toe to toe both intellectually and physically with the (admittedly usually incompetent) adults of the show. Additionally, she evolves as a character through the durtation of the show.

But a huge chunk of her maturity being forced and therefore unhealthy is a key aspect of her character.

I think what upsets me the most is that while the critiquing the idea of Katara being treated as the mom of the group in fanon is becoming more and more common, the treatment of her as something akin to a YA protagonist is on the rise.

Both these interpretations are so insulting to the character of Katara, what is wrong with you people?

I'm currently rewatching atla with a focus on Katara as a character (while also trying to give zutara a chance I am doing my best guys) and her childishness is an integral part of her. It's sad to see her treated as an adult by the fandom. And honestly unsettling, especially with how much of like a child she acts.

I wanna finish my rewatch before I give my full ramble on the topic. I also wanna look more into the many different opinions people in the atla fandom have on Katara's treatment by the show. Though even trying to skim the surfce was like injecting lemon juice directly into my tear ducts. Also I really, really don't wanna get sent death threats again.

I want to give the topic of Katara my full attention. However I don't think I'll ever make this post, actually. The atla fandom is a rabid horrid pack of creatures and I'm not sure if I wanna engage with all that.The post would probably bash a lot of things considered key arguments for Zutara, since, looking at Zutara through a child's doesn't exactly scream 'romance' and do I really want that on my blog?

Katara's role as a child isn't valued as much as her role as a woman and I just don't want to deal with people calling me mean names for talking about a little girl being traumatised.

I'd be glad to have a discussion but I made this blog mainly to have fun and enjoy a piece of media I like. I met some truly amazing people whom I can have really great discussions with, even if we don't agree. I don't want to jeopardise that by being a pretentious dick on a soapbox.

Call this and the last few posts I made on Katara me testing the waters.

[strqyr]

Yknow I was thinking about whether or not Oz knew about the Ever After again, and i remembered something

The vaults aren't on Remnant, and neither was the central evacuation point (since it used the mention of the vaults as a blueprint). We don't know how they were made, just that they could be connected to the Ever After since they seem similar. Plus, when the evacuation point was made, the place looked extremely similar to the Blacksmiths workshop and led directly into the Ever After

Of course, pocket(?) Dimension creation isn't a particularly unique idea, but we don't know if normal magic is capable of such a thing and the Staff definitely didn't create them. So like,, HOW did Oz make the vaults?? How did he get the idea? Why are they seemingly connected to the Ever After?

And I'm just. Lost LOL I think these things are connected but my only idea is that Oz somehow only knew about the Blacksmith/the Blacksmiths Workshop and not the Ever After, but idk. The vaults are so WEIRD why are they Like That. Ofc we don't know anything abt the other Relics, so maybe they were involved somehow, but who knows loll. Thoughts??

yeah, the vaults are definitely a HUGE question mark in all of this. like. . . who even made them in the first place? oz makes sense, since there's a lot about the vaults that is connected to him—the maidens being the keys to them, their location within the academies (with vale being the odd one out, and oz saying he made finding the relic there more challenging)—, but then, how did he do it? like you pointed out, certainly not with the staff, and if it's something he's capable of just doing, why not. . . like. . . do it again? but in different spot? to keep the lamp safe instead of out in the open?

unless it's tied to his waning magic, that is, but still; making something like that with just magic, a space that's not even on remnant so how did oz have access to that space in the first place if he didn't know about it (was he trying to access the space he met light on, and the rest is just, idk, happy accident?) is definitely like. where's the limit in all of this.

the other possibility for the vaults is that they were made by the god of light to house the relics until ozma found them, and while there could be an explanation for the maidens being keys (the keys are really the four gifts, and oz gifted his to the maidens so he's no able to open them anymore, but each maiden is their own corresponding vault), it would be wildly convenient for each vault to be located in a place where the biggest cities of the kingdoms would eventually be build.

and again, oz did say he made finding the crown of choice more challenging to find, and at this point in time it doesn't sound like salem's crew at beacon has even managed to find the old location—say, an empty door frame like the one in haven—after a year or so of searching, so i'm not getting the vibe that he moved the relic / vault at later date from beacon to somewhere else; rather, it was always planned as being different from other vaults in terms of location.

and then like. okay, oscar says oz "has no explanation what might have happened to [those who fell]", and if i'm right that this switch from "our friends are dead" from nora's section of the epilogue to "searching for an answer for what might have happened to them" with oscar (+ sun and neptune doing the same in their own way) happened due to qrow arriving to vacuo with raven, who, thanks to her semblance, would know that yang is alive, but unable to reach her. . . they'd have to have some idea, bc oscar and oz would know that team rwby used the vaults as an example for what they wanted the evacuation zone to located in; it's just the question of what's below (the ever after), but then it raised the question of where the blacksmith's realm is located in, and if that's the same as the central location or not.

like the orbs are there. that's a shared thing, but they're also different colors—orange and teal—, same as choice and knowledge. so is it the same space but different location of it? or completely different realms altogether?

also what's up with the big structure in the central location. ambrosius did not create that. why is it there in an otherwise empty space???

i'm not sure if any of this makes sense, got me rambling for sure lmao but, i guess, as a result of all of this, i get the feeling we simply don't have enough information to come to a real conclusion. it's just bunch of ??? but wait, what about. . . and then some more ???

really feels like it's missing that one piece of crucial information that would make it make sense, but we don't have that, so instead here i am, running around like a headless chicken LMAO

[dragon-susceptible]

We know Kim'dael is still out there, still bound to the royal Sunfire family, and still habouring a grudge against the moonfam. What are your theories about how the next confrontation with her will go?

I have a lot of different thoughts, and I honestly don't know which direction the show will take it. Kim'dael has her grudge against the moonfam, but she also has beef with Janai, and I don't know which one of those things will end up taking priority. Ideally (for her), she'll find a way to break free of Aditi's collar so she can take revenge on both of them with impunity, so I would guess that's what she's been lying low doing since we saw her in season 5. She's focused on trying to properly break free, since she doesn't expect Janai to actually release her (as well she shouldn't, if we're being honest, Janai really shouldn't release her).

So, I'm somewhat disappointed we didn't get to see her come up with Rayla after Karim summoned her. That's definitely something I would have expected them to talk about, at least in the form of Amaya updating her nephews about the attack and Rayla hearing about it thirdhand. Even though we didn't see it happen, I would assume that they did share the information and Rayla knows that Kim'dael has returned again.

Rayla might go hunting for Kim'dael now that Aaravos is temporarily out of commission, to eliminate at least one threat to the world. I could see that being a plotline for Runaan, too, as Kim'dael's Order of the Blood Moon may have been the original reason the assassins were created as a guild. There would be a certain poeticism in Runaan, the assassin, ending his part in the cycle of violence by ending the reason his guild exists in the first place before dismantling it. Of course, that would require them to figure out how to kill her in the first place, which is a nasty little snag in that plan; Callum may be key to that solution, with his general interest in magic and deep magic lore.

Alternatively, Kim'dael might try hunting the moonfam down first. I doubt she'd recognize Rayla now, she'd certainly know Runaan and Ethari, and she's intelligent enough to guess if she saw Rayla with either of them. She could likely figure out that Rayla's been a major player in how the world has changed so wildly in the past few years, and try to risk capturing her to force her to help remove her magical collar. The fight scenes would be fascinating, especially with Stella's teleportation abilities compared to Kim'dael's. Rayla might also allow herself to be captured just to learn more about Kim'dael and perhaps set up a trap to be sprung by her allies. I don't actually see them killing Kim'dael in this version, but I do potentially see Janai participating in Rayla's rescue, and Kim'dael doing something that leads to her own death.

Another possibility I see is honestly that Kim'dael starts her revenge against the Moonfam and potentially injures one or more of them (again) but isn't able to kill them. She's also unable to break free of the Queen's Mercy collar. So I could see her going back to Janai and attempting to trick her by becoming a temporary ally to our protagonists. She'll work for Janai for a little while, to try and gain her forgiveness, and Janai, having had all this plot leading to her being an actually merciful queen, would grant it - only for them both to discover with horror that the spell placed on the collar is also part of what's kept Kim'dael alive, and since she hasn't been permitted the blood that was sustaining her otherwise, removing the collar just results in her crumbling to dust or some shit.

There's definitely a lot of potential avenues and different ways they could go about it, but that's the broad strokes of my three main guesses.

[puella-1n-somn10]

🥠PMMM x PKMN AU: Miscellaneous Notes🥠

Sorry, all! No magi/witch analyses are available at the moment! Not only am I still busy, I'm also writing down a separate analysis post that is kinda unrelated to the AU as a whole, and am still gathering up notes and inspiration for Penny's megapost; progress is going slowly, but swimmingly now that I've gotten a clear idea of what I am aiming for in my head. Sincerest apologies for the delay on that aspect ^^;

Though, as a sort of milestone achievement, now that I have over 5k posts on this blog, I've figured that perhaps I could share some of the notes I have on my persons in regards to the development of Hop and Hau's magi and witch form designs, and how they've changed throughout the time in between the conceptualization of their megapost to the final product. I know this isn't enough to properly thanks you all for the support y'all have given me, but, for time being, what better way to immortalize this moment than by sharing the journey we took along the way?

Quite the cheesy way to celebrate such an occasion, I know, I know- but, hey, isn't the process of immortalizing the journey we have taken to reach the point we are at right now just as important as the finish line just before us? The roads we have taken to get so far deserve to be cherished; with these struggles- with the blissful highs and the crushing lows, came the memories we have experienced along the way, all of which possessing flavors that move us all and allow us to carry on to the next day. What, pray tell, would constitute a better way to celebrate such a milestone?

Of course, I'm also open to any and all questions regarding characters that haven't received their own megaposts, since I will also be talking about the possibility of whether certain characters and their cursed forms are going to debut or not. The AU as a whole is still taking shape and form, after all; a lot of things are still not completely set in stone and, as stated earlier, I am open to accepting constructive criticisms and suggestions from y'all.

So, with all that said and done, let us all raise the curtains and take a peak at what went on behind the scenes...

-The Brief, yet Entertaining Development of Hop and Sayf al-Muharib-

Fun fact, I've actually had the barebones concept for his design for quite some time now- anyone who knows me is well aware that I am a sucker for character depth, theories, and, best of all, worldbuilding, and Galar got two out of three points down in my books (if only the worldbuilding was a biiiiiiit better, but oh well; am gonna thank the crunch hours for that fuckup- we do not blame developers for the hubris of their higher-ups in this house). I wanted to show the whole world that Hop was his own character- that any and all comparisons he had with Hau are purely born from simply design similarities and the fans' inability to read and just assume the plot's progression through their desire to just mash A and move with it, and safe to say I think I've gotten the assignment down!

So, starting from the very top; you guys might remember that, way before I began to work on his megapost, I've mentioned that, if Hop ever witched out, he would become "The Gladiator Warlock, whose nature is self-abandonment". Now, you might notice that he's kept his type and some key design elements (the golden calf imagery and how his labyrinth resembles the Roman Colosseum mixed with a football arena), but that his nature is wildly different from that of the final version's. It is also important to note that it sounds a lot like Ophelia's nature, as well- as a matter of fact, his earliest design was inspired by the Wudan Witch more than I'd like to admit. ^^;

After analyzing his character, backstory, and how he began to develop throughout SWSH, though, I slowly began to realize that this term really doesn't ring right with Hop as his own character. After inquiring with a good friend of mine, @bluethepearldiver, they came up with a much better nature for him in all honesty; admiration. It was simple, right there, nailed his motivations to a T, yet I just couldn't see it. It had that riiiiiight amount of dissonance and tragedy that is synonymous with the witches in Madoka, and describes what would bring Hop to his end on fleek! Such a complex character, such a riveting motivation- such an ironic and bittersweet end to the tale of his legend...

Unto the earliest version of his design- it was quite simple, really. For starters, he was supposed to be this...faceless sheep hybrid donning golden armor and is fused to a chariot; what was supposed to be the "horse" is in fact a piece of said chariot and is either seen as an extension of the warlock or something resembling living armor. As for the labyrinth, it was certainly not as dim and oppressive as it is now; just a coliseum arena where his familiars jeer and mock at him, with the main color scheme present being a mix of gold and bits of shining red.

As I said, the Ophelia inspiration was as clear as daytime and I was still in the midst of analyzing Hop as a character, so I had to yeet all that out of the window. I may have kept the themes and design elements associating him with fire as an element and meshed it with metal-working and how swords and shields are forged (hence, him still trying to reforge himself to be in Leon's image), but, in all honesty, I still do like the freakiness of said earlier design itself and am currently regretting scrapping some of the early design details present here and there (him being fused to the chariot especially, reflecting him seeing himself in Leon's light and wanting to be like him), so....who knoooooows...? Maybe a remaster of the OG post is on the horizon? Eh, later- I still need to work on Penny's and [REDACTED], after all.

Flash forwards to when I was finally actually writing down the megapost; it might come across as a surprise, but he actually had a different surname during development; Sayf al-Jundi, which means "The Soldier's Sword". I had the idea of him fighting for Leon's honor and to make him proud of his little brother; how he felt indebted to Lee for raising him and actually giving a shit while his own mother and grandparents couldn't, like it was some finite resource/favor.

After much brainstorming, however, I felt like it didn't "fit" Hop's journey completely, either; boosts his themes of incompetence and being lesser-than, indeed, but it did not reflect Hop's development as his own character outside of Leon's image and his desire for his validation, nor did it..."feel" like a witch's name. After thinking abt it more, I went with a surname that bears the same meaning but has more of a kick to it- al-Muharib, meaning "The Warrior"; boosting the idea of Hop's karmic potential being possibly higher than the MC's and the theme of performances Galar has going on!

As for his familiars- to be frank, they sure did take me some time to develop! At first I just wanted them to be the audience partaking in cheering at the spectacle and ridiculing him, but, as I was looking at gameplay of Pokemon Shield on the side whilst writing down the post, I knew I just HAD to bring in Hop's desire for knowledge, him learning all there is about battles from Lee and his achievements, his destiny to become a professor, and how he's seen as a sort of "know-it-all" by the beginning as he guides us through the game. It was quite tough; trying to balance Hop's traits so that both Sayf and the newly-created familiar would share it equally- but I think I did a decent job at it! While the audience, Al-Dajij, are still here, his little rambunctious archivists, the Abatil, have also stepped in to the spotlight, stole any and all trinkets/records related to Leon, and, with them, they took our hearts! Honestly, when compared to the audience and their warlock, they are just. So, so adorable- just like the Anthonies and Walpurgisnacht's heralds!

Finally- in regards to his labyrinth, it was simple, really; the halls leading up to the arena were, indeed, decrepit and claustrophobic, with traps here and there, but the vibes weren't *there*. Once again, I NEED to thank Blue here, especially with them introducing the video "My House Tour" to me and the idea that there is a nasheed that is constantly playing in the background. With its further development, came Hop's simple origins as a little farm boy who was raised by his brother after almost every other adult failed him; hence the outside of the arena being a rainy farmland with shadowy sheep in the distance and a broken windmill. Ah, once more, the true tragedy of Hop's home and the way he was raised strike once more- dear goodness, it's always the sublime horror that gets to ya...

While he's now looking a little more basic when compared to the witches who have arrived after him, I'm still really proud of how he and his witch card turned out! In fact, I'm happy that I've had so much fun writing all that and analyzing Hop's character- it was quite the writing exercise, I must say! Perhaps, one day, I'll redo the design itself and descent to despair, but the witch card and familiars? I am happy with how they turned out; hate to brag, but I've def cooked there....

...Unlike with a certain SOMEONE-

-The Development Hell that was Hau and Kealamauloa Kinimaka-

This. This has been a conceptual NIGHTMARE. I could have just looked at his base character, his present actions, and just made him a Charlotte clone based on Iki Town and malasadas-

But nope, my stubborn ass just had to dig deep, didn't she? Doesn't help that the G7 anime series is also a piece of comfort media, so I was more than willing to dive in to his depiction there, draw out the similarities and differences, map out the reasons behind these differences, AND went out of my way to constantly update said megapost to add in more details and iron out any typos/unfinished sentences. It was a fun journey, yeah, but, boy, was it a tough one.

Okay, okay, starting from the earliest incarnation and its name, which, I might say, was quite the wild ride; unlike Sayf, who at least had his first name stick around, Hau's witch form had a wildly different name that, honestly, stemmed from a horrible and ignorant idea during the earliest days of development- a decision that, honestly, should have been avoided since day 1-

Initially, I had the idea to give their warlock a name that wouldn't feel too out of place from either Tart Magica and Kazumi Magica respectively; to drive home that, in Alola, witches are seen in a similar lens as we view fae, alongside them being treated as separate forces of nature. A decent concept, that's for sure, but the way I've initially approached it wasn't respectful to the Hawaiian language at all, and I honestly should have at least learned the basics.

The grave mistake?

I tried to use Google Translate to come up with the name.

A silly thing to beat myself up over, I know, but it's also really not; the Hawaiian language is being suppressed by the US with many a native being punished for practicing their right of speaking in their mother tongue, and I tried to use GT, of all things?! That was an idiotic decision; I've made the mental note to never do that again- I promise that!

...Right, the old name; with it, I wanted to capture Hau's themes of duality, the aforementioned desire to portray witches as worldly forces beyond anyone's control, and how his relationship with Kahuna Hala influenced his worldview- so, with both the aforementioned meguca spinoffs in mind, I went with the term "Another Cloudy Day", which GT translated it to "ʻO Kekahi Lā ʻŌpua". Butchered to Hell and back, I am well aware- thank goodness I've noticed the error in that decision and decided not to go with that name just around the time I've decided to write down and finalize the witch card.

After mentally kicking myself for noticing how insensitive that idea was, I've decided to take another route and began looking for some Hawaiian names instead. Fun fact: I've found his surname, Kinimaka, and its associated history long before I've settled on his first; the list of options I had for that, aside from Kealamauloa, consisted of Halani, Kahoku, Kairin, Kalani, Makai, and Akamu.

I was also struggling with which name I should choose for his familiars, as well; all of which fitting the vibes and true threats of the labyrinth itself- Noelani (Heavenly mist), Hoku (Night of the full moon), Inoa (name chant), Māhealani (heavenly haze; full moon night), Miliama (drop of the sea), and, of course, Halia (remembrance of a loved one).

Though I am content with what I chose, maybe I might reuse some of these names for other witches hailing from Alola? Like a certain...trial captain? :3c Reem, stop spoiling your plans again; esp not so early into the development of Penny's megapost-

I should mention that I also had "Kealamauloa Leleo Kinimaka" on the list of options as well, but I've figured that it might have been a bit too disrespectful to the history of Hawai'i and its royal family, so I went with just using the surname instead. Again, I am not at all an expert, nor am I Hawaiian myself; I would really love some corrections on that front especially, and am happy to accept any and all criticisms from Hawaiian folk in regards to this little bugger especially.

As for the design- wait, actually, I wanna talk about his labyrinth first, because I think this was the aspect that went through the most changes throughout development. From the very beginnings, it merely resembled a picturesque city near the beach that appeared frozen in time- literally; the food was always there - prepared and steaming hot -, the sun was setting on the beach before it, and everyone, or whatever you may dub these numerous static "statues" around you, appeared to be having a good time. To represent the unchanging, eternal, yet isolating and fake vibes of the labyrinth, his familiars didn't look like glass hummingbirds at the time- rather, they were old phonographs scattered across the labyrinth. Indeed, it was a picture-perfect image of the world at its most peaceful...

That is, until you knock one of these statues onto the floor, and it is apparent from the frozen blocks on meat and speckles of blood that these were the warlock's victims; their joy and whimsy now immortalized as they act as the backdrops made to lull the labyrinth's newcomers into a sense of security. Serving as a chilling reminder that, even if this warlock was once Hau, he's still a manifestation of his own curses and despair- on top of it being a bittersweet reference to the photo the MC takes with him and Lillie.

As terrifying as this concept sounded, it also felt...dull- like, what was the warlock even doing in this labyrinth save for flying around? It was his familiars' duty to freeze his visitors, and all he did was watch? It didn't feel like Hau, and went against his free, easygoing nature. Yes, it did symbolize his weaknesses in the SM games - that being him only able to watch the disasters around him and was unable to stop them himself -, but I wanted to add in something, anything, so that the labyrinth wouldn't feel as hollow as it did.

Another concept for the labyrinth was that it consisted of dingy-old subway tunnels and stations, with advert screens and worn-away posters showcasing a tropical paradise for all to visit. Alas, all one is able to hear through these walls are the pitter-patters of afternoon rain. The warlock would be at the center, either locked in his own small aquarium within a dark room or is patrolling the dingy ol' city outside the labyrinth halls now that he's sealed his victims within the street lights. I might revisit this concept and turn it into Guzma's? Or even Gladion's? Who knows?

Here's where touching grass did me a lot of favors; it was the dawn of Summer here in Jordan at the time, so, after strolling outdoors for a bit and taking in the fresh warm air, I began to rework the vibes of his labyrinth from the ground up. Taking the initial concept and Anemonether's witch card she made for him into account, I've multiplied the ethereal factor by tenfold while also giving the barrier an illusion of liveliness and freedom; Hau's bright-eyed approach to the world is now a cage for his warlock's victims, just like how Hala had tried to keep him sheltered away from his own anger and how disappointing reality can be. Again, I really went all-out with this kiddo's design and labyrinth, and I'm glad with how they turned out!

NOW back to the warlock himself- I am going to be real, I was actually winging it as I went! Unlike Sayf and (Penny's witch), who had basic yet solid concepts to use as bases for what was to come, all that I had for Kealamauloa were three things: Turtle, Dragon, and Flowers. This is where I have to return to that moment where I touched grass because, and I shit you all not, I was also listening to some Pokemon OST at the time- and one of the songs that popped up? None other than the battle theme against the Tapus.

It was then that I had a sort of epiphany- I totally forgot to integrate Hau's culture and status as the Kahuna's grandson into it! A vivid image of the tapus' respective ruins hit me like a well-deserved smack to the back of my head for my idiocy; so I went with a turtle dragon with flora growing from his body, one that appears as though it is a part of these divine sanctuaries- and it was all history from there as I continued on with my research on Hawaiian symbology and beliefs. Honestly, scrolling through all these sources relating to said symbology is quite fun- and I might keep them in mind once I start analyzing yet another character who's native from Alola and bring their despair to life!

Again, this was a nightmare. Did I enjoy dissecting Hau as a character and was genuinely shocked by how deep he and his character development are? Absolutely. Would I subject myself to this torture once more? Fuck no. Nonetheless, I am very happy with how he and the warlock turned out; I could absolutely see him being a MagiReco unit with Kea as either a doppel or a boss thanks to the amount of detailed I've poured into the design!

-Where We are Going from Here-

As of right now, as I've already stated, I already am compiling various notes needed to get a headstart on Penny's megapost; Scarlet and Violet, dear God- I really want to give the story justice, moreso than I did for Alola, and we all know how much the G7 games mean to me. I have my gripes in regards to G9's graphics, indeed, but they've knocked it out of the park with just about everything Paldea else had to offer. Frankly, I am going to blame the drive for them to be more like "Breath of the Wild" and the backlash from G8 causing them to rehaul every God damn pokemon model from the ground up- all while their shit CEOs refuse to give them more time, but that's another rant for another day. Every day, I am reminded of how Game Freak is repeating Sonic Team's history; I have nothing but pity for the both of them honestly, and anyone who tries to tell me that "umm aktchually, they're just lazy-" is getting the hard block.

In regards to Penny herself, well, her witch's name and the "first form" I've created rn are highly subject to change, while her labyrinth is a huge WIP. Do not get me started on her Descent to Despair; I have no idea how this shit is gonna go down, though I do have my ideas. Afterwards, who knows? Maybe I'll work on Kiki's next, since the name and nature are finalized, or even go for the home run and work on [SPOILER]'s! It honestly depends on what I'm feeling at that moment, so expect the unexpected- ooooOOOOOOOooooOOOOO~

I might work on more Pokemon characters later on in the future? But, considering the amount of time each post takes, I am asking of you all to please, please be patient! I've just fixed up most of the errors in the Hau post and am trying to boost what I've written so far throughout other circles, so this takes time ;0; Plus, I still have uni to attend to- fun times for everyone. /s

Now, to close this post on a high note, I, once again, cannot emphasize how much you guys have helped save my ass with these-

@bluethepearldiver

@superstaridolstart

@anemonether

@gummybonebanes

@deepseazombie

@eggchjf

@sweetpie2612

And to all who took the time outta their lives to read my insane ramblings- thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart! Genuinely, without each and every one of you guys, I wouldn't have pulled through with all these! I promise I will do my best for y'all!

And to those reading, I highly recommend reading through PokeManiacal's blog posts that talk about the characters of Pokemon, how they are affected by the narrative, and vice-versa, as well as the Judgemental Critter's own video essays surrounding the witches from Madoka Magica; it is thanks to their respective works that I've managed to capture the characters' true depths and what goes on during the design process of a witch.

So, with all that being said, I just have to thank you all once more- from the very pits and the deepest trenches of my heart, thank you all so much! For the support, for the resources, for hearing me ramble on for days or even months on end- thank you, thank you!! I cannot emphasize how much I hold you all dear- oh my god ;0; Please, to those reading this post, it'd be best if you poured your support to those mentioned- frankly, they deserve most of the praise ;w;

Once again, I must praise you all for the support you have all granted me, and bow; it was a wild ride, but I'm happy that we've gone so far. Thank you all for everything, darlings- may all your journeys be blessed by the deities you all hold dear, if any, and for the fame and glory you all deserve arrive your way. Truly, I am indebted to you all.

Thank you all- have a good night, and I bid you all Alola!

[iamnmbr3]

Maaaaaaan ever since I followed you you've brought up such good points I never even considered.

like how Snape actually SHOULD be allowed to remain bitter about his childhood and the abuse from James because it was genuinely awful

or the fact that Tom's genuinely terrified reactions to dumbledor when they first met essentially made him even more resentful of adults and possibly beyond the point of no return on that front considering how he feels and reacts later on. (Which honestly that whole scene just from dumbledors perspective sounded very biased to manipulate Harry and if Harry wasn't so focused on trying to stop Tom he probably would have empathized with Tom there)

I low key kinda feel like JKR forgot what she wrote halfway through the books because she actually did write some interesting characters just not in the way her current self agrees with (also how does someone's own opinions of characters change that much and that bad??? I still don't understand, tho the guy who wrote Ender's game was homophobic and he literally wrote a book about the gay experience soooo who knows anymore)

Anyway thanks for your interesting takes!

What a delightful message to get!! Thank you so much! I'm really glad you've having a good time with this blog and that my posts have been thought provoking and enjoyable for you. That's so nice to hear.

I definitely think if Harry had witnessed the memory of Tom and Dumbledore's first meeting in a different context he probably would've reacted very differently - especially given his own history of unhappy experiences with adults arounds him during his pre-Hogwarts childhood. Harry is primed to be biased against Tom for the very understandable reason that Voldemort killed his parents, tried to kill him in 1st and 4th year and caused the death of his godfather in 5th year and on top of all that he met diary!Tom in second year and that didn't go well either. So of course the memory Harry sees is filtered through the lens of those experiences and traumas and doesn't raise any red flags.

If the diary had shown him that memory in an attempt to turn him against Dumbledore or he'd seen it in another context without knowing who Tom Riddle became things might well have been different.

And yeah. It's weird. The characterization in the books is actually very good and interesting. It's the strongest aspect of the series in my opinion and why I feel so drawn to the fandom surrounding these characters. The interesting thing is in general the characterization is internally consistent and complex. So it's not just a matter of wasted potential (though there is some of that too) where a character is shallow but could've been interesting or even a case of wildly inconsistent characterization that can be fixed with fandom.

Rather, it seems that what she created was accidental and wildly at odds with her intent. So what she wrote, isn't what she meant, but it's also a lot more interesting than what she meant.

[miitopiaenjoyer]

how do you draw so often it facinates me

Hi, thanks for the question! I honestly had to really stop to think about this one, because truthfully, I'm not entirely sure myself, haha. I don't think I've ever stopped to seriously consider how my brain works during my creative process before. Which means I've got a lot to say, I guess. So hopefully this answer is insightful!

During these past couple of months in particular, I've been wildly creatively inspired, moreso than I think I've ever been in my life. I've been drawing and writing up a storm. And it's all for RTMiitopia specifically, for some reason! Which has been unexpected, but it's definitely nice. But honestly, I have no idea why, lol. I won't get into specifics much, but I've been pretty busy for a while, and only recently got some solid free time. But I was drawing a ton both while I had stuff going on and now that things have calmed down, so I'm pretty sure it's not just a stress thing. Even now, I'm not entirely sure what the deal with that is, but I'm grateful for it nevertheless! It's been really fun feeling so energized and inspired, so I guess it's better not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just enjoy it while it lasts, haha.

More generally, though, I think that the main reason I draw so much is because I genuinely have a lot of fun doing it! More often than not I really enjoy the art I make, and I usually find the process of creating it to be very relaxing. A lot of times when I sit down to draw it's just quick sketches. But oftentimes, when I'm listening to music or a youtube video, I find myself wanting to do something with my hands, so during that time I usually to ink and color the sketches I think turned out especially nice. It's not good to do that sort of thing all of the time, though-- it's important to make sure your hands get plenty of rest and that you don't overwork yourself, even if you're having fun! I'm not the best about that, as I tend to get caught up in what I'm doing and not realize how long I've been drawing without a break, but still.

I'd say that the key, at least in my case, is not to force it, and to go with the flow where possible. While I may be very inspired at the moment, this blog has definitely had long periods of inactivity in the past, during times where I've been caught up in other things. Sometimes that's involved focusing more on my OCs or other fandom-related stuff, and other times it's simply that I've been busy or needed rest. I think it's important not to give up on art entirely during these times, but it's also essential to be patient with yourself. It's worked out the best for me to draw whatever's the most fun when I'm up for it, and get plenty of rest when I'm not! Sometimes I get anxious when I feel like I haven't posted anything on here in a while, but worrying too much about consistency is likely to make me want to draw less, honestly. Or if I'm up for it and I have the time, I'll just post something quick and silly, lol. There are also occasionally times when I'm out of ideas but I still want to draw something, which is rare for me, but super frustrating whenever it happens. When that happens, I tend to consider what I haven't drawn before and what would be fun to try out. Which, for me, usually ends up being drawing Chat and John in different Miitopia outfits, lol.

And, of course, looking at everyone else's art is incredibly motivating for me as well!! Seeing so many talented people and all of their incredible RTMiitopia stuff always makes me want to draw more. This is a pretty small fandom, so I often get feeling of wanting to contribute to it and give back to the people who've inspired me in some way! I'm majorly grateful to be able to see everyone's cool art, so I try to provide cool art for others to see as well! That's also why I've been trying to be less shy about commenting on other people's posts recently. I can personally attest to how awesome receiving positive feedback is, so I've been trying to reply to posts I like more often. All of the drawing I've been doing recently is also an outlet for those warm fuzzy feelings, in a way!! And whenever I get any kind of positive feedback, it tends to get me SUPER amped up, which helps feed into my creative energy even more. It's like a never-ending feedback loop of artistic inspiration! Admittedly, I'm more extrinsically motivated than I'd like to be, haha. Remembering everyone's kind words over the course of my time here has always been a surefire pick-me-up when I need it! I go back to reread the tags and comments on my posts fairly often, and it always makes me smile. :)

So, TL;DR, my general strategy for drawing so often is to not stress too much and have fun!

Anyway, I know this was sort of a long and rambling answer, and that my method definitely doesn't work for everyone, but I hope it addressed what you were wondering about well enough. Thanks for the ask, and I hope you have a wonderful day!! :D

[severalpossiblemusiks]

@lightineventide and I had a short discussion about understanding how to appreciate different music genres, sports, art styles, etc., and I figured it'd be good to make a big old post about how to understand each genre in it's own right, rather than comparing it to another genre. Which kinda falls into a life motto I have been developing: "you can find something you like in anything you look at, you just have to know what you're looking at". Cause once you learn to appreciate each different thing for what it is, all of the sudden you find yourself liking way more stuff than before.

So for music:

Rock, punk, and metal tend to focus on things like tempo, riffs, and look/attitude. So when looking for what makes a band or song appealing in these genres, those are probably the major cues you're looking for: do the riffs sound cool? Is the tempo something you can headbang or mosh to? Do you like the image they present? Of course with how many subgenres of punk and metal and rock there are, you can find more specific things to look for in whichever subgenre you're being introduced to. Elitists will often argue that a certain genre of punk or metal isn't "real" punk or metal for some surface level reason often repeating to the tempo/riff/look combo, among other reasons. But ignore these people. They're the equivalent of right wingers telling you why something sucks cause it's woke.

Classical and opera focuses on the harmonics and musical framework of the piece. Classical is almost a "meta" appreciation. Rather than just liking the music cause it slaps (though this is a very valid way to enjoy classical music), I found my appreciation for classical deepened when I found myself looking for how the music was presented. Of course this meta level of appreciation requires some knowledge of music theory and classical music forms (why a sonata is different from a concerto, which is different from a symphony, etc.). You can still appreciate classical without all the music theory meta, and I actively encourage you to enjoy classical outside of the meta analysis of the music, cause it beats elitists who think you need a BA in music to like Bach when you can also just go "music go weeee".

Jazz focuses on improvisation and phrasing. Most jazz tunes have a kind of pattern: you introduce the main melody of the tune, you play a verse and chorus, then you improvise around those melodies, and eventually you return to the main melody and finish the song. The improvisation in the middle is usually where the magic happens. Experienced jazz players can change keys a lot, reference other famous tunes (I think it was Charlie "Bird" Parker was a great fan of classical composer Igor Stravinsky, and would find ways to work phrases of Stravinsky pieces into his solos). Some kinds of jazz also feature a similar vibe to rap battles, where two members of the jazz group try to outdo each other in their improv sections (very common in bebop jazz and their "cutting sessions"). So to appreciate jazz it helps to notice when they go into the improvisation sections, and see how they change and adapt the original melody.

Folk music is about as "by the people, for the people" as you can get. A lot of the tunes are simple, the words can very massively, even having two totally different songs for the same melody (for example, "Red is the Rose" and "Loch Lomond" have the exact same melody, but wildly different lyrics). Folk is probably best appreciated when you know the history behind the song, if anyone knows what the history is. Folk songs are often steeped in local culture, so understanding a Scottish folk song will be greatly assisted by understanding Scottish history and culture, similarly flamenco will be best understood when you look into Spanish culture and history, cause these different elements of history and culture will affect the musical traditions and explain why the song sounds the way it does. I found I started to appreciate rap a lot more when I thought of it as a sort of modern folk song tradition: understanding the history of black Americans and the racism and abuse they received and how they used rap to touch on those subjects.

I can't think of more musical genres and traditions to use as examples, but I think this gets the idea across (hopefully). Each music genre is very different, and so to appreciate each genre properly you have to understand where they're coming from. And of course you can skip all of that and go "I like this cause it sounds cool", but for people like me who overthink their love of music, stuff like this can be very helpful, because sometimes you do just have to recontextualize your conception of music and cultures to get an idea of why it sounds the way it does, and that recontextualization can also help you find what you like.

Hope this helps somebody, and anyone who wants can reblog with their thoughts, additions, critiques, compliments, etc.

[dreaming-marchling]

With all the POVs in all the fandoms you’ve done including the latest in marked in faith which character has been the hardest to write for or get in their mind? Conversely what character has been the easiest to slide into.

Also, how do you maintain those character separations and characterization so well in the stories especially when there’s a large cast like sometimes in the market in trust series?

When I DM in DnD I have a very hard time keeping NPCs apart before they blend in as a mesh of one character archetype.

This is such a fun question! I live for nitty-gritty writing stuff like this :)

I suppose the characters who are hardest are the ones I've avoided , for instance I'm writing a Malec story where Izzy gets her (I believe) first POV from me and I'm having a hard time finding her voice. The plot means she’s in a tense leadership position so the seriousness is I think conflicting with how I might normally have written her and striking that kind of tone with a character I don't write as much is a challenge. I don't think it would bother me as much if I was more used to her. Jesse in MiT is now the last of the team who doesn't have his own MiF story and though I would love to write for him and do intend to he's got a brain that works very quickly and randomly and I want to do it justice. In terms of who I find hard from characters I have actually posted, I have to be in the right mood for Letty. We're very different, lol. Easiest are Brian and Magnus for sure. They're closest to my own voice and I've written a lot for them so I'm used to them.

On the rest, I'll put under a cut so no one hates me

Re: How I differentiate characters - Firstly, thank you for saying that I differentiate characters well, that's a huge concern of mine so I'm really thrilled you feel that way!

Here are some key ways I like to make their voices distinct (according to how I view the characters, of course, opinions on the below can certainly vary):

Word Choice - It's a very quick way to differentiate characters even in a scene where they're all united and sharing the same sentiment

For instance, Magnus uses often more ornate words than Alec does. Or Letty swears when Mia rarely does. Would the character say that someone was heartbroken or upset or pissed? Letty might say upset or pissed but for me, she’s less likely to use heartbroken. Mia would be much more likely to use heartbroken or upset and sometimes she would used pissed but it wouldn’t be the first word she would reach for unless she was very upset herself. Magnus would use all three but he would absolutely use heartbroken very freely and I would often pair it with a word that would sound ridiculous if Jace said it like “terribly heartbroken” or something. Is Jace saying someone is terribly heartbroken? Probably not, lol, in my opinion. But Magnus totally would.

Sentence Phrasing

For MiT it can often be a little more challenging because they're all roughly the same age. Word choice is still important but I think phrasing is ultimately more key when you don’t have characters who are wildly different like Alec and Magnus. Dom, for instance, doesn't *like* talking so much but he does it for Brian. I often have him drop filler words to kind of give that impression so the way he makes a sentence is more bare bones than the other characters. Vince and Letty speak more similarly but Vince is less casually explosive than Letty so he's not exclaiming things as much. Mia and Leon are similar because they're both much more calm people who speak both gently but also pretty matter of fact to Brian but Mia has a more optimistic tone whereas Leon's is more neutral. Mia often has an undercurrent of concern but Leon tends to be more chill. Is the character supposed to be laugh out loud funny? I put way more effort into giving Brian his weird little one-liners but I don't do much of that for Mia or Alec.

I think re: your character archetype challenge, maybe adding in another qualifier or two could help differentiate tones? I think you could probably cite Foggy, Letty and Brian as sarcastic characters but Foggy is a sarcastic worrier with mothering tendencies, Letty is a sarcastic badass who doesn’t like to be soft, Brian is a sarcastic brat who has a hard time interacting with people. You can further break them down as well with Foggy’s very smooth and intelligent sarcasm that maybe tends more towards wit, Letty’s very blunt sarcasm and Brian’s very defensive sarcasm. Foggy is often wanting to be funny, Letty is aiming not for funny but for cool and Brian is often unaware. What is the character’s background? Do they lend towards highbrow humor or lowbrow humor? Is the sarcasm meant to attack or make them seem lovable?

I hope any of that helps! I feel compelled to apologize for making you read so much, lol, I just love shit like this. Thank you for asking!

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Okay but imagine

All of the Watchtower ‘civilian hires’ are retired/former heroes or their support system, or otherwise just…. Are not fucking normal.

Danny Fenton is a tech, as is Tucker Foley, although wildly different departments. Sam Manson is usually in charge of the onboard garden (I’m 90% sure they have one), possibly a backup field medic. The Possible twins Jim and Tim are engineers, and Kim is probably still a freelancer that everyone low key forgets is like, Batman lite. They tried to get Wade Load but since Kim is still active, he stays with her, possibly same with Ron Stoppable. Juniper Lee and Danny bond over former astronaut dreams and weird mystic Bullshit, which Arthur “Spud” Spudinski, one of the nurses, is also oddly insightful on. Marinette Dupain-Cheng works textiles and costumes, occasionally roping in one of the cooks, a certain blond named Adrien (no last name given THANKS), to help her with his “natural inclination towards destroying things”. Randy Cunningham is their archivist who has the odd extremely good reflex, who works with Coraline Jones, who has a childhood friend named Wyborn Lovat over in Engineering and Maintenance. Sheldon Cooper specializes in Robotics, although he only works… semi-part time, and is technically the League contact for one Jenny Wakeman. Mabel Pines is maybe certifiably a little nuts but she also can calibrate grapple weapons better than anyone, if only she’d stop getting her brother Dipper from Archives when she does safety tests.

Of course, they all might have some feelings about the protégés, but they also kind of understand that in most—if not all—of these cases, the kids would be out there ANYWAYS so at least this way they have someone to teach them the ropes.

Just… the majority of every hire on the Watchtower being both sympathetic but also completely OVER all of the superheroes bitching. A lot of them were child heroes WITHOUT decent mentors so they’re just like ‘but did you also have to write a five page paper on the American Civil War, read two chapters of the most boring book possible, draw the entire periodic table in color code, and have a trigonometry test the next day? No? Well then’. Like, they get it, this used to be their gig, and they’re kinda lucky in that for most of them, their threats have mostly ended in some way so that they CAN retire, but also. Also. Being a teenager sucks enough AS IS doing the hero thing sucks enough AS IS imagine doing BOTH. AT ONCE.

Then there’s the ones who are still fairly civilian save for That One Time or only dealt with local stuff, so they’re mostly normie and have mostly normie reactions outside of a very tolerant ‘go with the flow’ baseline, but occasionally are like “oh I know just the thing” and seem to pull some deus ex machina bullshit out of nowhere.

And all of them collectively decided that hey, saving the world or their town or solving some local mysteries involving the undead should absolutely count towards their resumes that they sent to literal superheroes who deal with this on the DAILY, so it’s in their files too. It is, again, not their fault no one did the assigned reading.

Batman has concerns about all the children fighting dragons, both metaphorical and LITERAL, but, well. Not much he can do about their PASTS, just be understanding of their futures. And no this is NOT because he has a whole adoption thing, he is NOT brooding, shut up Clark.

Short DPXDC Prompts #648

The League gets incredibly concerned that their main tech mechanic, Danny Fenton, has instances of his heart or breathing randomly stopping. His skin is cold as ice and his skin is deathly pale.

Danny didn’t realize that the League doesn’t look at hiring applications. If they did they would have seen that he put being a half ghost on his resume.

[rigelmejo]

I've mentioned it before, but HP5 really has been a LOT easier than HP4.

When I started HP4 I had to repeat that first hour 4 times to finally get it was in a mansion, in a different town, with wormtail and the snake and stuff. I could not parse full sentences until maybe 1/3 through the audiobook, repeating each hour of audio twice, when I heard the twins were gambling at the world cup, and then later when I heard harry lost his wand in the world cup attack chaos. And it was still many sentences of some unknown words, with some paragraphs mostly unknown words. All the way up until maybe 4 hours from being done. Then I was finally identifying easily each scene I was listening to, and getting irritated at the ending still not being Reached lol.

With HP5 I started it able to identify the scenes I was listening to immediately. I stopped repeating audio twice once I got 4 hours in, because the benefit was not worth the "bore" of having to listen twice. I was already understanding all characters, locations, key items, and many descriptions and verbs in all scenes. I am now almost fucking done... 6 hours left agh. And if I'm paying full attention, I understand a majority of each sentence. Its kind of like listening to Narnia in terms of ease. Except unlike Narnia, missing a word does not prevent me from following the plot. So I've been listening with partial attention (as I do with English), and following the plot fine. They finally took their owl exams. This book is so much longer than it needs to be.

Of course. How listening ease "feels" swings wildly every several hours. Regardless, I can say for certain that HP5 has ben an easier audiobook to follow than HP4 was, which I think indicates I've made significant improvement since before listening to HP4. I expect HP6 and 7 to be around this easy, or feel easier to follow, as the reading level difficulty doesnt appear to get "harder" than HP5. When I looked it up, I think HP6 had less unique words than HP5 and HP7 had around as many unique words as HP5. So while there will probably be NEW words in each book, it won't be more than the amount of new words I've been able to handle in HP5.

[thesnarkerramblings]

Be Careful What You Wish For

In life, there are things we don’t have. Maybe it’s a lack of material things like money, talent, or fame. Perhaps it’s struggling with happiness or receiving healthy love. In some cases, it might even involve injury or illness compounding one’s health. Regardless of what it is, it’s not uncommon for people to wish for better. 

During certain situations - such as anything involving toxic relationships, poverty, or serious health issues - this is understandable. However, we as human beings are not omniscient. We can’t view every single potential factor down to the minute which could potentially impact our lives and paths. As such, it might not necessarily be fun to get what you initially desire.

Take being well known. Fame is sought out by many people around the world, yet few manage to successfully earn it and keep it. By the time they do, though, there can be quite a few drawbacks. 

From creepy fans to deranged haters willing to dox one for the crime of existing, there are obviously issues that can come up with viewers. But even colleagues can end up being problematic. 

Whether they’re equals with abusive tendencies that their rabid followers likely won’t care about if exposed, callous managers with the power to put one’s life in a chokehold if called out, there are sadly people out there in the industry that do not give a care about others’ well beings unless it affects their reputations. 

While not all co-workers in the world of fame are psychos and not all fans are creeps, too many of them are. Needless to say, the world of being widely publicly known isn’t all sunshine and rainbows - despite the numerous privileges it does offer.

Another common wish that can go awry is getting close to someone you desire to get to know better. Maybe this is a colleague you’d like as a friend or a friend you want as a romantic partner.

Sure, you might already know them in one type of relationship. However, the same chemistry that works for said relations could also very well lead to the demise of another type if you are not on the same page or wavelength as them.

Maybe they have wildly different values than you on certain key topics that just don’t get brought up until farther down the line. Perhaps their interests differ so much from yours that you can’t really find anything to bond with them over. When it comes to intimate partnerships, there’s also the matter of whether they truly enjoy being physically close and/or flirtatious with you.

So does any of this mean you shouldn’t ever try to chase your dreams? Of course not. Without goals to aspire to, people wouldn’t be capable of doing much throughout history. There wouldn’t be any good motivation beyond fear and desperation for humans to get things done, and progress would take a lot longer to make.

With that being said, though, it’s important to be cautious. Don’t set your expectations for the outcome of something risky or fragile too high, lest you be disappointed if it fails. That’s not to say to avoid putting in any effort. It’s just that assuming that a result will automatically be something you enjoy isn’t really a good idea.

Above all: keep your mind open. While setting boundaries is important - as is regard for basic human rights - you’re not always going to be right 100 percent of the time. You’re still a human being, after all, and realizing that others can be correct can go a long way in deepening your understanding of subjects and even determining your own desires.

Any other thoughts on this? Let me know in the comments!

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[eazy-group]

Reese Witherspoon on Divorce, Her Keys to Wellness and the Liberation of Her 40s

New Post has been published on https://eazybeauty.net/reese-witherspoon-on-divorce-her-keys-to-wellness-and-the-liberation-of-her-40s/

Reese Witherspoon on Divorce, Her Keys to Wellness and the Liberation of Her 40s

This is a chapter of Reese Witherspoon’s life that she’s writing. Speaking to Harper’s Bazaar, Witherspoon gets candid about announcing her divorce, the freedom of her 40s and what it’s like to finally take a moment for herself.

Witherspoon, 47, is a powerhouse in Hollywood with over 60 acting credits to her name and a wildly successful production company, Hello Sunshine, to run. According to those who know her, Witherspoon rarely, if ever, slows down.

“She is one of the most highly productive human beings I’ve ever encountered,” Jennifer Aniston says. “It’s incredible.”

But now, Witherspoon is taking some time for herself.

“My brain has been going nonstop, and just life changes and running a company…” she says. “But that’s okay. I really believe creativity is infinite and you’re just looking for that next bit of inspiration, so if you go through a little slow period, that’s okay.”

The Keys to Wellness

For Witherspoon, a good green smoothie has been a major component of her day for over a decade. She’s even walked us through how to make it on Instagram, saying that you can use “anything green you have in the refrigerator” for this versatile smoothie.

Her big pro-tip is to pack in some good-for-you sweets to balance out all those bitter greens. She uses an entire apple, pear and banana. Witherspoon first caught wind of the recipe that would become her go-to from longtime friend Kerry Washington. “I was sat next to her at an award show,” Witherspoon says. “And I said, ‘your skin is just glowing, what do you do?’”

Washington told her that she credited it to the smoothie which helped clear her skin and strengthened her hair and nails.

In addition to this longtime staple of her routine, Witherspoon is trying to take it slower and invest more in herself. That includes using binaural beat therapy to fall asleep. “It’s better than any melatonin or sleep aid,” she says. “[It] turns your brain off.”

A binaural beat is an auditory illusion that has been utilized as a form of sound therapy. Essentially, playing two slightly different frequencies in each ear makes the brain create a new, third sound that’s in-between those original frequencies. While the medical evidence for its effectiveness is still being studied, it’s a fairly common form of sleep therapy.

Writing Her Own Narrative

There’s a reason why Witherspoon has been taking it a bit slower, recently. In March, she announced her separation from her second husband, former CAA power agent Jim Toth. She’s not unfamiliar with how this process goes, especially in the public eye. But this time, she’s a lot more in control.

“When I was divorced before, the tabloid media got to tell people how I was feeling or how I was processing, and it felt very out of control,” Witherspoon says. “To be able to talk to people directly about what’s going on in my life and just share it in the way that I share great professional experiences or personal experiences, it feels much more authentic to be able to say things in my own voice and not let somebody else control what’s happening. Then, of course, there’s speculation, but I can’t control that. All I can do is be my most honest, forthright self and be vulnerable,” she says. “It’s a vulnerable time for me.”

And despite what you might assume, Witherspoon says she’s felt more connected and less isolated since going public with her divorce announcement. “I think about how many other people are going through this experience,” she says. “I don’t feel isolated at all. I feel very connected.”

The Freedom of Aging

For Witherspoon, the big change in her life trajectory was having her first child at 22.

“Who do I want my daughter to see? I really want to be a woman she looks up to. … I worked on it a lot,” Witherspoon says.

And these days, she’s got a much clearer picture of who she is.

“I think you start to realize there’s a finite amount of time that you have to accomplish what you want to accomplish in this world and that worrying about other people’s opinions of you is a waste of your precious time,” says Witherspoon. “It’s a liberation in your 40s to feel free of other people’s opinions. I mean, they’re always there. They just don’t matter as much to you, and it’s a great feeling.”

Source

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[kaidatheghostdragon]

Oh shit. Now i have Ideas(tm). They go in a slightly different direction than the other reblogs.

Why is danny called the balance? Its been explained to him a thousand times in different ways, some patient, some patronizing. The gist of it is that he's a sort of emissary between his world and the realms. His job is to keep the peace, prevent any damage caused from having his world so opened up to the realms, and heal the damage that was already done before his creation.

The keys words here are "*his* reality." He's certainly free to help other realities as he wishes, but they arent his responsibility.

But whose responsibility is it?

Another halfa, of course! One native to each reality that requires a balancing force to preserve it.

The reason the ghosts are complaining that the realms itself isnt listening to their pleas and helping this reality? Because they are already doing everything in their power to save it.

The realms have a somewhat shaky concept of time, they exist everywhere and everywhen, often opening up natural portals to wildly disparate time periods in the same reality. Its not their fault, Time didnt exist until sometime *after* the creation of the realms - and he helps as often as he can.

The point is, to the realms, they can see the entire life of each reality all at once and are able to access any point in its timeline as needed. The ghosts complain that the realms arent doing anything to help this reality. The truth is that the realms have been trying to stop the collapse of this reality since the first moment of its creation.

Halfas are the realms' tool of choice. Both danny and vlad became halfas via a tear in reality. The Realms *created* them at the earliest convenience in their world's timeline so they could save it from the destruction the GIW would otherwise cause.

(The whole "lets bomb the realms and destroy it" plot? Cute. Adorable they think they can even scratch such an unfathomably large entity. Unfortunately, their experiments and attacks *do* run the risk of severing their reality from the realms, which would cause it to collapse, which would have a lot of collateral damage.)

Vlad kinda went off his rocker, so a second halfa was needed. Or maybe danny would have eventually become the villian without an example of what not to do. Or maybe vlad's villain era is just an emo phase. Cause and affect are a bit confusing when time isnt linear. (And maybe the realms just enjoys creating halfas and takes every opportunity it can. Maybe the realms care enough that when it saw vlad's cloning experiments, they imparted their power into one of the clones just so she would survive.)

Its in the natural order to create a halfa in every fragile reality, and for that halfa to become the ruler of their section of the realms to ensure the balance they were created to maintain.

The dc universe? Absolute clusterfuck. Everyone and their dog has a god complex and the Grand Idea to rewrite reality in their image, as if they could hold the power of something so vast in the palm of their hands.

There's a reason for that, and the reason is that the realms threw all of the most destructive souls into that one reality to help manage them. Better to have one tumorous growth than dozens, after all.

But innocent souls still got sent to that reality as well, and in order to try to rescue them, the strongest souls volunteered to reincarnate in that reality. Now that reality cant be closed up and destroyed without losing some of the realms' best helpers, they have a vested interest in salvaging this reality.

Just like any other reality, that means the creation of a halfa.

That halfa is jason todd.

Unfortunately, the circumstances of this reality make his transformation into a halfa a bit complicated. Some idiots found a way to collect the ambiant ecto of this universe into something they call the emotional spectrum, and while some of them try to use that power for good, leaving the rest of the universe nearly bone dry of ambient ecto only exacerbates the problem. The best the realms could do was leak corrupted ecto that wouldnt get absorbed into the Lanterns all over jason todd's home world. He'd have to survive on that until their precious danny phantom learns of this reality and blessedly offers his help, finishing jason's transformation.

The various side effects of corrupted ecto on this earth will create a number of complications for jason todd and his reality at large, but the fact that he'll be a halfa means that this reality has a chance to exist long enough to solve those problems.

You know one of the purposes of Lining?

Shock Absorption.

If the Zone is the Inter- and EXTRA-Dimensional Lining, connecting, containing, and generally powering all of Multiversal Creation? The Great Primordial Soup? The Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, from which we came and too which we return?

If the Zone itself is basicly the place between Universe, where your soul goes to get washed down, cleaned up, recharged, and sent out to wherever the next random portal takes it? To BECOME whatever you happen to find? An infinte recycler and Multiversal management?

The great metaphorical Yggdrasil, grown far beyond few branches, into an incomprehensible forest of one?

Well!

That kinda changes things! And also nothing! Because it means that those who remain? Are basicly squatting in the DMV's attic. Have built bunkers, under the country's main power generator. They really SHOULD move along. Granted, there is no one to MAKE them... but like...

That's cause no one thought anyone would NEED too?

Lol. Don't they feel silly? Anyway, I'ma put MY house over-! *wander off to go squat in the rafters*

Yeah, the CONCEPTS are native. But those probably just generate naturally. It's all the Souls constantly flowing through. Lots of background Sentience and Memories and such being washed away into the air. But? Then these lil souls were like "yeah, but if THEY get to stay... me too! D:< " "no, you can-" "ME TOO" and then they stopped listening and did what they wanted.

Good thing we have literally infinte amounts of room.

T...there's so MANY, you guys.

But! Not the point here!

*smacks white board* Realities! The Die too sometimes! And get born! A beautiful process, really. You can find Reality Beads if you know When and Where to look, some times. They, OBVIOUSLY, don't last for very long. Since they are basicly just seed universe. The explosive growth takes them almost immediately out of our range of perception, as they Begin.

Foundations of all Life and such.

But good God are they MAGNIFICENT!

However, sometimes? The REVERSE happens. If you find the area of the Zone your in? Is getting... "wavey" is the best way people describe it. Distorted. Fun house mirror. As though your vision has weird wrinkles that are distorting and stretching your view of things? Get Out. FAST.

If it's only SLIGHT? Barely noticeable? You can grab your Lair. IF, and ONLY IF you are NEARBY! If not? Remember. Things can be replaced. YOU? Can not.

Cause that "wavey"-ness? Is the final stage of Realm Entropy. The universe that portion over the Zone is covering and connected too, is all hollowed out. And about to CAVE IN. You DO NOT want to be there when that happens!

Remember! You see "waves"? Fly for three days!

Get to the edge of the affected area then KEEP GOING for a full three days flight. Warn everyone in you path. We stay safe together, guy. Collapses are NO JOKE. People get... well. Let's just say it's NOT a nice way too go.

Knowing this of course? We should all be SAFE right? Respectful if Awed distance from Reality Seeds, run like he'll if "waves"? We Gucci?

.....Sooooorta.

*flips Whiteboard to other side, to reveal a cartoonishly drawn Supervillian labeled "Asshole"*

Behold! A Terrorist!

It's a charged word. Not used lightly. But THESE fuckers? Oh ho ho! THESE fuckers?! "Ooooh~! Look at MEEEEE! I'm gonna play with FORCES I DONT UNDERSTAAAAAAAND! Destabilize my whole funckin UNIVERSE! Kill countless TRILLIONS OF TRILLIONS! Cause life was bad to me personally and I'm mad about it! Wah wah wah!!" ASSHOLES!

These fuckers? Cause Collapses. Blow Outs. Weird Fucked Up Cancerous Real Growths. You ever seen the Cleaners? No? You don't WANT TOO. They are basically eldritch, deep sea, angler fish looking mother fuckers THE SIZE OF SOLAR SYSTEMS. They travel in SCHOOLS.

BIG ONES.

When Realities collapse, they "fall off" as it were. Detach. And have to get recycled. All the countless impurities of Life eaten way to a blank slate. So it too, can start again. Thus the Fish. But! They ALSO eat anything "problematic".

Like tumors. Cancers. Poisoned, Multiversal Threats. Those quote on quote "God Killers".

Yes. Yes this IS part of why you DONT want to be near a Collapsing Reality.

No I WON'T explain how I know.

I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

*smack the board with pointer* pay attention.

Jason Todd. Not! An Asshole. Sexy thighs. Fancy lil hair strip. We all miss him. But! He's off living his "no really, I'm totally alive, guys" hot girl summer or whatever. We are going to respect that! But!!! How did that happen? When he was DEFINITELY Hella dead?

Superboy Prime-y Pants. Who IS an ASSHOLE.

Because THAT fucker? PUNCHED HIS REALITY SO HARD IT NEARLY SHATTERED. Oh, no, I'm sorry! He punched SOMEONE ELSE'S reality! Because he is a tantruming MAN CHILD! And NOW? Now, Your Majesty, that WHOLE ASS Reality is more hair line cracks then border walls! One good shove? It'll cave in. Killing every soul inside.

The Cleaners are ALREADY circling.

It needs to be patched. Immediately. But that's not something normal ghosts can DO. The Zone won't LISTEN to us. Nor allocate the energy for it. The Concepts of Healing? We can't even FIND them.

We need help.

Please help them, King Phantom. You're the only one who CAN.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[raayllum]

Something I’ve been mulling over bc it also stuck out to me when I first watched the season, took the symbolic reasoning, and then didn’t think too much over it. However, I think I do know the in-character / story reasoning after some time & reflection, so let’s talk about it. Or rather, let’s try to answer

Why didn’t Callum figure out the mirror?

Simply put: because he didn’t, Narratively, need to. 

Let me explain. 

What’s the Point, really, of Callum being interested in the mirror? We know it’s in character because he’s always in curious about magic. We know it’s in character because he already has a tendency to fixate and attach meaning to objects. And we know it’s doubly sound in-universe given that Callum knows from Rayla’s binding and the Storm Spire archway that elven stuff is hardly ever meaningless or without a deeper meaning underneath. 

From a symbolic standpoint, of course it’s meant to show his parallels to Viren, even if his and Viren’s personalities and circumstances are wildly different. However, Callum has even less context for the mirror than Viren did. All he knows is that it’s something Viren has had and is seemingly elvish in design. He doesn’t know it was in the lair of the Dragon monarchy or any hint at all that it’s connected to the archmage mentioned in his father’s letter / that he has a somehow related Key. 

One of the main reasons I thought Callum might go after Rayla into Xadia from a storytelling structure was because 1) we need humans in Xadia as an audience surrogate (hi all the kiddos just going into Xadia with Zubeia and Rayla to provide just that) and 2) I always thought they wouldn’t have the time for Callum to have a full fledged arc with mirror Aaravos the same way Viren had and that it could end being too similar to what had come before. (Turns out I was right because the plot didn’t have time lmao! But I digress)

Don’t get me wrong, Aaravos manipulating Callum through the mirror in terms of conversations could have worked (and I’ve written a few here and here pre season release) but that always felt like it might infringe a bit on Callum’s character for two main reasons

1) Besides Rayla being gone, he has virtually everything he ever wanted; helping his brother, a powerful mage, getting to pursue more magical resources etc. Viren only went to Aaravos out of outright desperation because he believed that had “nothing left to lose” and because he had goals he was chasing. Until Aaravos possesses Callum, Callum is a hot mess, sure, but he’s not particularly desperate. There’s no tangible way in - Callum was offered unlimited power back in 2x08 and still turned down being a dark mage. Just something nondescript wouldn’t really work this time either

2) Callum is skeptical as hell and is accordingly slow to trust, and even barring Rayla’s absence, he still had a support system of people who cared about him at the castle, particularly Ezran and Soren (and even Bait) who would keep an eye on him. Callum can be reckless and let his curiosity get the better of him, but he still listens to his instincts (2x03 with Soren and Claudia) and the people around him.

The main information Callum could’ve gotten from Aaravos, if the Startouch elf had been 1) willing and 2) truthful would’ve been details of his backstory - well before his imprisonment, as everything else (the fact that he is imprisoned, the lack of knowledge about where he is, who put him there, etc.) are all things we really knew. So it’d require more of a switch from Aaravos than Callum in a lot of ways too - elongating and stretching things out, and not necessarily giving Callum a segue into an arc where he’s actually able to start processing his feelings. And again, no desperation as a way in

But with all that out of the way, why have Callum be more obsessed with the mirror beyond the initial scene in 4x01? Why not have him investigating the cube because it’s also related to Aaravos and could communicate the same purpose? Why have it be the arguable C-plot of 4x02 at all if he’s just going to be interrupted? 

Like I said, there’s the very blatant symbolic reason of Rayla’s entrance being what deters Callum from getting too close to the mirror, her halo’d by the moon figure representing the other path he’s going to choose away from the more blatant visible path of darkness (black dark magic eyes, gazing upon a fallen star, “what if i’m on a path of darkness” etc etc) in the end. I do think that’s the Surface Level reading we’re meant to have as a takeaway, kind of similar to when Rayla spares Marcos in the forest in a moment of emotional illumination. Another path.

However, I think it actually goes deeper than that:

Which is to say, step out of the narrative / audience mindset, and look at it from Callum’s perspective. 

You see the six primal sources Rayla has drawn after the craziest night of your life and think of something exciting and familiar. The cube in the Banther Lodge. Conveniently on the way and free of humans. You have to go get it. 

You give up on having it when shit hits the fan. You just want to make sure everyone, especially Rayla, gets out safely. You completely give up on the cube. And even though she’s pissed at you, she tosses it into your lap anyway. 

It turns out that, of all the possible things and secrets your stepfather could’ve given you that you might have missed out on, he intended and left the Key of Aaravos to you. It soothes the ache in your chest. It feels like destiny, especially after a week of being lost and magic-less

You bury yourself in your work to soothe another heart break. You hate the bulk of what you’ve inherited from your predecessor. You learn how to translate runes. But no matter how much you learn, you can’t translate the mirror. The gleam routinely catches your eye. You hate a riddle you can’t solve

You have a feeling the mirror is related to the evil returning to the world due to Ibis mentioning the Fallen Star; the same way you had a feeling that the cube could help you. (A feeling that Rayla couldn’t be trusted, a feeling that the storm made you feel like it did when you cast fulminus.) 

Then you cannot feel anything except numbness as your limbs and mouth move beyond your control and it’s worse. It’s so much worse. 

You worry you’re on a path of darkness, that you will inevitably, accidentally, play into his hands because you almost have three times before without even realizing.

You cannot let go of the cube. 

In every adjacent encounter, Callum has had a step of separation from Aaravos. He thinks and behests they make a heartfelt detour so he can go get the cube, but Rayla is the one who finds it. Before he can even know the cube is more special than it seems (although he already thinks it’s more special than Rayla does and certainly not worthless), Harrow is granting him key ;) information. He didn’t find the mirror, Viren having already stolen and hauled it back into Katolis, as the last thing Runaan ever saw. By the time Zubeia tells him what it is, it is too late.

In so many ways this exemplifies how even before Callum knew it in 1x01 for a decent chunk of the episode, the events that would radically transform and destroy his life had already taken place in more ways than one: assassins spotted, egg stolen. Harrow dead just as the narrative truly begins. 

The cube is his part of the puzzle to decipher, not anyone else’s. Claudia, Viren, and Callum are all needed as equal parts of Aaravos’ plan for his pawns. For Viren, it was the staff and the mirror; for Claudia, it is the quest; and for Callum, it will likely be the cube. This is shown even in 4x01 when the two times Callum is talking about the mirror, he is Interrupted by either the guard coming to fetch him on his brother’s behalf or by Soren messing with the cube, and Callum is interrupted again by the cube glowing and then Rayla’s arrival, literally turning away from the mirror for each. 

The point of the mirror and Callum’s obsession with it wasn’t to solely highlight how he’s like Viren, necessarily (otherwise they could’ve just kept throwing in the same parallels they have from the very beginning), but to show how his agency has been undermined from the very beginning and will be to the end (of S6 at least), that he and Viren are tethered by the same thing that is Worse than Death, and that while more cognizant of it, by the time Viren realized Aaravos was using his Power and that Callum was entangled, it was already, as Harrow says

If Callum had figured out the mirror and that it was a prison or even communicated to Aaravos on his own, he would be able to look back and see and know all the places he could’ve stopped, all the places he actively chose to wander down. But even that is taken away from him. Even with delays, even with self-preservation, even by both repeating and rejecting Viren’s mistakes, it adds to Callum feeling like his destiny is already written, that this path as a pawn is inevitable. That no matter how different or similar he is to Viren, there’s only one way this can end, that there are no divergences, there are no other choices - there are no safe choices except to take him out. That he will continually come back to Aaravos regardless of if he knows it or not, that his own wishes will hook him right back in, that his fate is already sealed. That it’s written in stone. 

Callum has chased agency (magic) his whole arc, wanting to be able to protect his loved ones and make something of himself. However, he’s also had more agency than he was giving himself credit for even in S1, stopping Claudia from going after them, having the final say about going up to the tower or not. Thus S1-S3 is largely Callum deciding who he wants to be with the agency he has and recognizing his strengths, building his confidence. He hasn’t struggled with concepts of agency more than he has since S2, which is one of the reasons S4 mirrors S2 so heavily in how its emotionally structured for the main cast in particular. Realizing that the ability to fully commit to the choices he wants has been within him all along; that’s why he narratively gets the Sky arcanum. So of course an external factor reaching inside him and taking control is the most bone-chilling inversion of that possible.

If he went the Viren arc as a slowburn in S4, we would get the Viren S4 resolution, of Callum unknowingly giving away his agency until he has basically nothing left. If he was driven to figure out the mirror for it or his own sake, we would see him being having Claudia’s arc, falling further and deeper in with a devastating relentlessness. 

Instead, we get that lack of agency on speed run to give Callum the opposite arc of having agency brutally ripped away from him, only to open up a path for him to take it back stronger than ever before. In many ways, Callum has more to lose and more at stake, the fact that he can be possessed an even greater blow now than it would’ve been in Arc 1. 

Arc 1 for him was about acclimating and adjusting to Power. and believing in his own Potential .This first portion Arc 2 is about how much of a say does he have in how he uses that power, now that he’s no longer a child; now that he’s no longer free.  

Callum doesn’t typically worry about making the wrong choice, however. Most of his anxiety tends to stem when he feels like he has no choice. Thus, it sets Callum up to have a really interesting arc of reconciling these dualities rather than just retreading old steps. Viren had full agency when chasing after Aaravos; as Soren says to Claudia, “Dad is dead; you don’t have to do what he wants anymore,” believing that Claudia is merely picking up where Viren left off, not that she’s steamrolling their own father into it in order to save his life. 

It’s one of the reasons that of all characters, Callum arguably also parallels Zym a great deal as well. Like Zym, he’s being treated like a thing and a weapon more than a person. Like Viren believed of Zym, Callum worries he may be forced into a terrible destiny. That:

Callum being possessed is still a form of manipulation, if not also a misdirect, forcing him into a desperate position that makes him even more vulnerable to Aaravos than he ever could’ve been otherwise. But it’s a different form of manipulation than how Aaravos lured in Viren, and a different form than how he’s manipulated Claudia the past two years. Aaravos is terrifying because he knows what strings to pull, not because he’s pulling the same strings every time. For a character with such a strong breath / mouth / freedom motif, being choked / being robbed of his voice / and of his freedom is the absolute biggest smack in the face. I’ve long mandated that the worst possible thing that would rattle Callum the most would be feeling like his mind was unsafe because of Aaravos, not his body. 

Callum seeking Aaravos out in S4 of his own accord is thematically / narratively opposed to the possession plot line. The possession plot line is the ‘replacement’/subversion chosen, but it’s not a bug; it’s the feature. 

It also sets Callum up to have a really interesting arc of battling for control, eventually winning it (S5 and/or S6) but still losing to Aaravos, making the wrong choice or call or being forced into something anyway while he’s cognizant enough to make a choice at all, anyway. It’d be empowering and demoralizing all at once.

But still not without any hope, since, after all: 

Nothing is truly inevitable. Nothing is written in stone. It is never wholly too late, not for anyone. Aaravos just doesn’t know it yet - but Callum will be sure to show him, by S7 at the very least if not sooner.