#no explanations. incomprehensible posts Only

[peliginspeaks]

Hey gang I just realized that I don't think Null can pass the mirror test? Which in the context of their past profession and Flondon in general is. Hilarious

Context: the mirror test is a test of intelligence for animals (and development for small children) to see if they realize that the person in the mirror is Them and not another baby/cat/whatever. I'm pretty sure it tests the intelligence needed to realize how reflections work, but it also needs a sense of self, and since Null straight up Doesn't Have One I just... don't think they would pass. Which is hilarious because by sheer luck their assumption that the reflection is a whole other person is in fact kind of right in the Neath.

[seithr]

scientists are calling the situation "like if cortana sucked and was a gay knight"

[ches-nogat]

Me listening to an ASMR video: I'm terrified of death, arent i? Damn

[au-roulette]

To celebrate the fact that we are halfway through the month of June and only a couple of weeks from the start of AU Roulette, have a post detailing the 36 AUs included in this year's challenge!

Like last year, this year's AUs have been curated to be intentionally broad, in the hopes that they will encourage unique takes on each prompt and the creativity of the authors participating. You are welcome to write anything that falls under the umbrella of your assigned AUs, whether it's an original universe, a fusion inspired by another fandom, or something else entirely.

(What's AU Roulette, some of you might be asking? An explanation can be found here, along with the link to sign-up!)

Without further ado -- the AU list, under a cut:

Roleswap - Maybe you want to switch two characters' places, do a class-swap for a D&D fandom, try your hand at an age-swap fic, or you have another idea.

Superhero -- Invent an original universe or do a fusion with one of the many popular big-screen superhero stories. Play it straight and give your favorite characters cool powers, or try a deconstruction of the genre. With great AUs comes great responsibility

Gothic Horror -- Castles. Ghosts. Vampires. Drama. Love that conquers Death. Take your inspiration from classic literature or a newer entry in the genre, like The Locked Tomb books. But be sure to make things spooky.

Post-Apocalypse -- Will the world end in fire or in ice? Or maybe economic collapse, war, zombies, or one of many other options? You write what happens next!

Fairy-Tale -- Pick a classic tale from the Grimms, Hans Christian Andersen, Asbjørnsen & Moe, Charles Perrault, or another favorite author to inspire your AU, try out a more modern re-telling, or use fairy-tale elements to craft your own story.

High Seas -- Including but not limited to Pirate AUs and other Age of Sail adventures. Try out something more historical, or throw in as many fantasy elements as you'd like -- or a bit of both.

Time Travel -- For fixing mistakes, making things worse, or time loops. Or maybe you want to write a fusion inspired by a piece of popular time travel media, like Doctor Who.

Western -- Another AU where writers are free to do their history research or to lean into more outlandish genre conventions. Cowboys, cowgirls, and cowpokes all welcome, of course.

Mythology -- Write a story inspired by your favorite myths and legends, from a whole host of different cultures. Or maybe you'd like to try your hand at writing some epic poetry?

Coffee Shop -- A classic everyone knows and has strong feelings about. Play it straight or add a twist, whichever suits your fancy! After all, no one said where the coffee shop has to be...

Ghost/Cryptid Hunters -- Maybe you want to write a story starring the next Scooby-Doo crew, or maybe there really is something strange in the neighborhood. Or maybe it'll never be clear what really happened -- it's your choice!

Secret Agent -- Code words, code names, you name it. Write a story about spies, cryptographers, or any other clandestine operators. Take inspiration from history or from James Bond. Just don't spill your secrets too soon.

Cyberpunk -- Time to write cyborg identity crises and fight the machine (literally)! Take inspiration from classic media like Neuromancer or Blade Runner or make a totally new cyberpunk universe of your own creation.

High Fantasy -- Elves and dwarves and gnomes, oh my! This AU could encompass everything from Middle Earth to D&D AUs to your favorite high fantasy books you read over and over as a kid. Or maybe you have your own spell to weave.

Band/Musicians -- Whether you decide to make the characters in your AU famous pop stars, part of an orchestra, students at a conservatory, jamming together in their garage, or otherwise musically-inclined, have fun with it!

Cosmic Horror -- You don't have to love Lovecraft to get creative with this AU. Make characters comprehend the incomprehensible, send them messages from beyond the stars, and get a little creepy.

Space Opera -- The genre encompassing works like The Expanse, Imperial Radch, Mass Effect, and Star Wars, brimming with galactic empires, alien species, and chivalric adventures. Write a fusion set in the universe of your favorite work in the genre, or invent a new one!

Sports/Athletics -- Pick a sport, any sport -- whether a team game like hockey, an individual one like archery, a paired one like figure skating, or something a little unconventional, like roller derby or HEMA. Then it's ready, set, write!

Historical Era -- An AU type absolutely bursting with potential, from medieval romances to 1920s Prohibition AUs, to ones inspired by historical fiction like Les Miserables. Whatever era of history strikes your fancy, you can write it.

Space Exploration -- Whether you want to write modern-day astronauts, a futuristic Star Trek AU, or something inspired by the space race, the sky isn't even the limit with this AU!

Urban Fantasy -- For all your modern-with-magic settings. Write an AU inspired by something like Teen Wolf, Artemis Fowl, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Rivers of London, or invent your own world where witches and websites coexist.

Library/Archives -- What secrets are hiding in the stacks? Whether it's some kind of ancient evil or just some mis-shelved books, a librarian's work is never done so long as there are materials to catalog and patrons to assist.

Camping/Wilderness Survival -- Could be anything from a fun summer camp or camping trip to a nightmare survival scenario. Write everyone having s'mores around the campfire or something inspired by media like Yellowjackets, where they might be having... something else.

Steampunk -- A fantastic opportunity to get creative with your worldbuilding. Try your hand at some alternate history, or invent a world of airships and other flying machines of your very own.

Shapeshifter -- Can the characters in this AU turn into anything they want? Or maybe they're more limited, like selkies -- even unable to control their shapeshifting at all (can I get an "awoo" from the werewolf fans?)

Classic Literature -- An AU somewhat more dependent on fusion ideas, but still very flexible! Pick a favorite classic book or play and let it inspire your writing!

Dystopian -- Create your own awful society or let a favorite piece of media guide you, like writing a Hunger Games AU. Will the characters break the cycle, or end up trapped in it?

Scientist/Mad Science -- Write characters as normal biologists, physicists, chemists, the next Frankenstein, or as hapless experiments themselves!

Mecha -- Giant fighting robots, what's better than this? Opt for a classic Pacific Rim AU, one based off your favorite anime, or something of your own creation.

Medical/Hospital -- Are the characters working there, or the victims of some unfortunate accident? Or maybe it's a bit of both. Take it wherever you feel like.

College/Academia -- Are the characters in your AU students? Professors? Weary adjunct? Throwing hands at a conference? Some mix of the above?

Stage Performance -- Theater, ballet, stage magic, circus performers -- there's no end to the possibilities for this AU. But whatever you choose, the show must go on!

Fusion -- Mix your chosen fandom with another of your favorites! Perfect for classics Daemon AUs, or for newer popular choices like Severance. The choice is entirely up to you!

Mystery/Detective -- Whether you're writing the world's greatest detective or some meddling kids, play up the mystery! Use a classic locale like 221B Baker Street, or invent your own.

Archaeologist -- Send your characters to work at a dig or a museum, or possibly toss in a little extra adventure, Indiana Jones style. Or maybe you just want to nerd out about pot sherds.

Heist -- Will you write a story about master thieves? Vigilantes righting some wrong? What's being stolen and why? Try a Leverage AU, or a caper of your own making.

[communistkenobi]

something I’ve been thinking about is like, the internet is this magical system of technologies, never before seen in human history, and one of its capabilities is to answer virtually any question you ask of it. Which is not even remotely a novel observation obviously lol. But I’m thinking about this in the context of a point that Adorno & Horkheimer made (in The Culture Industry I think?) about the radio: that to expedience the radio, to live in a social context where there is this vast incomprehensible system of technological infrastructure that you do not understand or control, and which allows you, a mere peasant, to listen to news broadcasts, music, and advertisements, is effectively like listening to the voice of god. Like the average person’s relationship to modern telecommunications is so mystifying, incomprehensible, and abstract that we experience technologies like the radio as an all-powerful, indestructible authority, and this (obviously) shapes our relationship to the information that is shared through it. People make jokes on here about how transmission towers are angels, but like tbh that is essentially how we experience them - vast, incomprehensible, highly dangerous objects whose impact on our lives are at once all-consuming and unknowable. We do not just turn on the radio and listen to the news, we tune into what the voice of god has to say today - right now he’s selling toilet cleanser!

and all that to say, I always find something a bit incomplete about discussions about wilful ignorance online - that we live in an age of mass information and yet people still seem as ignorant as feudal peasants, or whatever. Nobody googles things, nobody tries to branch out and experience new kinds of art, nobody educates themselves on important topics they don’t understand. and like this frustration is very real and well taken, I feel it frequently, but what I’m grappling with is whether this is the correct framing - that maybe “why don’t people just google things” is the wrong question to ask, because I tend to find the explanations offered unsatisfactory. Like specifically I’m thinking of discussions on here that are about like, “anti-intellectualism”, kids these days are so ignorant even though they grew up with the internet, reading comprehension is piss poor, and so on. Recently I’ve seen a lot of weirdly moral-panicky posts about children not knowing how to type on computers because back in my day we were forced to learn how to touch-type by age 8 even though we couldn’t look up any tutorials on YouTube to help us, etc etc. And like I just do not buy that people are individually choosing to be ignorant, that people are “getting dumber,” and that this state of getting dumber is inversely related to the amount of information we have access to (which makes “getting dumber” even more dumb). An unstated assumption that goes into a lot of these “anti-intellectualism” discussions is that “information” is this universal object that has a standardised enlightening effect on the people who interact with it - that the only reason to have an ignorant, sheltered, or ill-formed opinion on something is because you have individually chosen not to Look At Information that will cure you of your ignorance. And so going back to the god radio thing, having regular access to the google search bar is not just having access to an encyclopaedia or dictionary - it is like having a direct line of communication to god, this authority that can answer any question you ask of it. But it’s not just one answer, it’s many answers, more answers than you could ever possibly read through. Google reports the number of hits it returns for whatever you type in - you will regularly get millions of answers to your question. And these answers are embedded with advertisements, just as radio news broadcasts are. Like if god is selling you toilet cleanser while telling you the number for a suicide hotline or news about what’s happening in the world, how do you psychologically deal with that, how is your relationship to capital-I Information shaped by this relationship?

The corollary to “we live in an age of mass information” is “we live in an age of mass misinformation,” but they both show up as answers on google (again, not a novel observation). but in the face of that how do you not simply stop asking questions? & of course this decision to stop asking questions is given form and substance by social circumstance, it reinforces systemic privileges and violences, and so this decision is not one free from consequence, and in many cases it is not an innocent decision. a white person deciding not to read the news because it’s too hard to figure out what is happening/too frightening/etc has the consequence of reinforcing the white supremacist outlook that is foundational to the social context of white people because they’re not reading anything that challenges that outlook. ignorance has many social contexts and many of them are violent. etc. like the consequence of “why does nobody google anything” is just a continuation of the status quo, just with this supposedly glaring and easy fix to it (simply google it). but that just leads us back to a discourse of individual choice, of people individually choosing not to “google shit.” it is a deeply individual fix to a systematic social problem. and so maybe the question is not, why doesn’t anyone google shit, but rather, why is the primary delivery system of knowledge a god that sells you toilet cleanser 

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTY (see full series list here)

warning: bit of an emotional start, sorry

October 31st, 1981

“Hey, love, are you feeling any better?”

After a lot of straining and groaning, you manage to turn your head just enough on the pillow to be able to take in the person who’s just entered the room: Sirius, your husband — and for the past two days, your servant, practically.

You sniffle, one of your nostrils completely blocked, giving a wry smile. “Not at all.” Your voice comes out raspy and it grates against the back of your throat. “I don't know what I did to deserve this but fuck I am never doing it again.”

He chuckles softly, gently stroking your hair out of your face. “Look on the bright side. At least you're not in St Mungo’s.”

“Not yet.” You blink lethargically at him, fighting the urge to drift off to sleep, sighing. “Have we gotten any trick-or-treaters?”

He raises an eyebrow, chuckling. “What are you on about?”

You raise a hand lazily, waving it about in front of him in strange explanation. “It’s a Muggle thing…kids dress up and come to the door…give them sweets…”

Sirius listens while you babble incomprehensibly about Halloween and Muggles, and places a cold wet cloth on your forehead, relieving the immense heat emanating from your skin. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“We don't have any pain relief left,” he says gently, as if he’s worried talking too loud will irritate your body even more. “I’ll pop out and get you some in a little bit.”

You shake your head vigorously, alarm bells going off in your head. “No, no, stay here. Don't leave tonight…have a bad feeling…”

“Probably because you’re sick,” he answers with an amused smile, placing a fresh box of tissues on your bedside table. “I won't be long.”

But you really do have a bad feeling, and you know it's not from the illness. You have a sinking feeling in your stomach of worry, a sense that something bad will happen tonight. You want him to stay by your side just in case.

“No, stay, Sirius, please,” you say weakly, your body betraying your brain as your eyelids get heavier and you have to fight to keep them open. “Please, don't go…something bad will happen.”

He continues stroking your hair soothingly, wiping the cloth across your forehead. “Nothing bad will happen, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You grab his arm with what little strength you have, your body aching with the movement. “Please, please don't go. I’m being serious, stay here, please…”

He stands up, tugging the covers closer to your body. “Get your rest, love. You’ll feel better when I have your medicine.”

You open your mouth to say more, but this time the words don't come out. You bring a hand to your throat, feeling it burn each time you try to say anything.

“Sirius…”

But he's gone. He's left the room and soon, as your eyelids finally shut over your eyes, you can hear the revving of his motorbike outside and the sound of him driving off into the night.

Bright light when you’re jolted awake by someone shaking you vigorously tells you it’s morning. Your eyes snap open, feeling extremely disoriented, and peer up at the unfamiliar face above you.

“Come on, get up now…”

“Huh…?” You blink, bringing a hand to your eyes and rubbing them, your head pounding. When you open them again, Barty Crouch is wide-eyed, staring back at you. In a mixture of sickness and shock, you let out a string of rattly coughs and he jerks away from you, wrinkling his nose. “Mr Crouch?”

“Get up.”

With effort, you manage to sit up against the headboard and take in your surroundings. You realise that what you had taken for the morning sun streaming in through the windows is actually just the lights in your bedroom, making you squint. Crouch isn’t the only one here — there’s about six other official-looking people — a few other Aurors you recognise from the Ministry.

What the fuck is going on? Are you dying? What was in that medicine Sirius got you?

“Mr Crouch what — what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t hear what happened, then.” He looks back at his co-workers, and they start muttering to each other conspiratorially. Can’t they just leave? Can’t they see you need rest right now? This must be a dream because if it were real Sirius would keep them out of your room.

“You’re going to have to come with us.”

“What?”

Crouch leans to say something to another man, and you manage to catch the end of his sentence: “ — no state to answer questions, we’ll have to take her in.”

You groan, reaching for the water on your nightstand and gulping the glass down. You feel sick, and you don’t know if it’s from anxiety or your flu.

“Where’s…where’s Sirius?” you say, craning your neck to look past the people in case he’s hidden behind them.

Crouch bites his lip and exchanges a glance with the workers, another set of mutterings passing around the group.

“Just…come with us, and we’ll explain everything. We’ll get you a potion for your illness.”

You look around at all the sets of eyes staring at you. One man standing near the back is glaring at you as if you’ve just killed someone.

“No, where is he?” You pull back the covers and feebly swing your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. “Where the fuck is Sirius?”

The man who’s been glaring at you steps forward from the back of the group to speak to Crouch, though he makes no effort to hide his words. “Stop being so nice, Crouch. Let’s get this over with.”

Crouch looks down at you, frowning, as he takes in your appearance: dishevelled and in your pyjamas, nose and eyes red.

“You’ll need to get dressed.”

You stare around at them, shaking your head. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“You’ll find out. Get ready.”

“Tell me what’s going on or I’m not going anywhere.”

Crouch hisses in frustration but before he can get another word out, the angry man steps forward and produces his wand. “This isn’t a fucking tea party, Barty. Stupefy.”

When you wake, you're sitting in a chair. Blinking rapidly, you take in your surroundings: Crouch’s office. He sits across from you, hands folded in front of him as he stares at you.

“You're awake.”

You groan, your limbs stiff and sore. “Fuck — barely.”

Crouch sighs and looks behind you, and when you turn around you notice Moody standing behind you, leaning on his staff with a grim expression.

“Sir?”

Crouch pushes a tall glass of water towards you across the desk. “Have a drink.”

Your heart is pounding — what is going on? Have you done something wrong? Oh god, what about that paperwork you forgot to file last week? It was a complete accident, you just lost track of time —

“Go on.”

Nervously, you pull the glass towards your lips and gulp it down, grateful for how it soothes your throat. Oddly, you don't feel sick anymore — your headache is gone, your nose is clear and you don't feel the urge to cough and sneeze every ten seconds. They must have given you a potion while you were out. How long were you out?

Crouch waits while you drink and doesn't speak until you've finished every last drop. Then he clears his throat. “Last night, James and Lily Potter were murdered by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

The monotone way he says it makes you feel like you've heard him wrong.

“What?”

“They were betrayed by their Secret-Keeper. By Sirius Black.”

You don't say anything. You can't say anything. James and Lily are dead? This can't be happening. This is just a nightmare, right? It's a horrible, terrible nightmare. There is no way that in the real world, your best friends are dead. There is no way that in reality, your best friends are dead and your husband is the reason why. Sirius would never do that, you know he would never do that — he wouldn’t even tell you anything about where they were hiding, he would never compromise their safety like that —

“Sirius Black killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles in one blast.”

Wake up, wake up. This is just a nightmare. Your brain is just playing a cruel trick on you — maybe it was the medicine…yeah, that sounds about right. Potions and medicine always make your brain act funny —

“You got all that?”

“No, I – I don’t underst—”

“Harry Potter survived. No one knows how. He destroyed the Dark Lord. They are calling him ‘The Boy Who Lived’.”

This is all too much for you. You don’t understand — what does he mean James and Lily are dead? And — and Sirius is the reason why? And how could Harry survive, he’s barely a year old — it can’t be real. How could they be dead? And where is Sirius? You need to see him, you need to talk to him, you just need him right now —

Slowly, you look over your shoulder at Moody, still standing silently against his staff.

Your lip trembles and when you speak it's barely audible. “Tell me I’m dreaming. Please, please, please tell me this is a fucking dream.”

His magical eye swivels and stares back at you, studying your face. It feels like he’s analysing your face, like the answer is written on your cheeks as plain as day. There are dark, ashy bags under his eyes. His lip is cracked and split on one side, crusty with dried blood. Did he sleep at all last night? Probably not — Moody never sleeps. But this looks different, not the usual after-effects of his insomnia — it’s worse than that.

He shakes his head and your stomach lurches.

This is happening.

Crouch’s expression remains the same. “I have no tolerance for Death Eaters or anyone who aids a Death Eater in any shape or form, Mrs Black, so I am going to waste no time playing nice. Are you, or have you ever been, a part of the Dark Lord’s following?”

“No.”

The answer comes out of you before you can think — you barely even register the question in your head before your mouth is blurting out the word — oddly monotone for your current state: trembling from head to toe, trying your best not to vomit, eyes stinging.

“Did you know of your husband’s involvement with the Dark Lord?”

“No.”

Again, you don’t even realise what he’s asking when the word falls out of your mouth. It’s like you have no control over what you’re saying at all.

“What — what the fuck — “

“Did you ever cover for Sirius when he was spying for the Dark Lord?”

“No.” You stop, hissing in frustration. “No, no — Sirius, he — he wasn’t a Death Eater, he isn’t a Death Eater, he would never — “

“He is,” Crouch says. “Whether you knew it or not, he has been working with the Dark Lord for quite some time now.”

You shake your head, unable to stop yourself from crying. “N-no, no…Sirius was James’s best friend, they were like b-brothers — he would never sell them out like that —”

“Then how did the Dark Lord find out where the Potters were hiding?” Crouch says sharply. “No one knew that information but Sirius. No one was able to reveal that information but him —”

“No,” you sob. “No, no, no, no, no —”

“The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can move on.” Though his words might seem sympathetic and comforting to some, he says them with little to no sympathy whatsoever.

“There must be a mistake,” you sniffle, skin burning from the tears streaming down your cheeks. “That’s not what happened, Sirius, he — he was just gone to the shop —”

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder. “There were witnesses. They saw him kill Pettigrew and those Muggles.”

You shake your head, sobbing. “No, no, no, no, no! T-that’s not what happened, that can’t be what h-happened —”

“Have you ever acted on orders given to you by the Dark Lord, or any of his followers?”

“No.”

Your hand flies to your throat instinctively, as if there’s something wrapped around it that you want to release, and you stare back at Crouch, the light on his desk pulsing in the corner of your eye. Your eyes wander to your empty glass on the desk.

“Did you — d-did you give me fuck — fucking truth serum?”

A vein bulges in his neck, his lip twitching. “Of course I did. Did you expect me to just take everything you say as truth? You’re married to a Death Eater.”

A million different emotions are coursing through you. You feel like getting sick. “Sirius isn’t a Death Eater, he isn’t — and I’ll p-prove it to you, let me show you his arm, he doesn’t have the m-mark —”

“That is no surprise. He was a spy!” Crouch snaps, voice raised. “If he had the mark he would never be trusted by the Potters!”

This is too much. You can’t think in this — it’s too warm in this office, your clothes are sticking to your skin and it's suffocating, your throat is burning, you need some fresh air —

“Where is he?” You gasp. “Sirius. Where is he? Please, let me talk to him, please —”

“He is on a one-way trip to Azkaban,” Crouch spits. “And he will never return. For what he has done, he deserves no better.”

“When can I see h-him?” you say desperately. “His trial, his trial, when is his trial — “

“There won’t be one.”

Your heart feels heavy and you close your eyes, falling back in your chair as you sob. “What? What do you mean there won’t be one?”

“He is a mentally deranged and dangerous criminal,” Crouch says, hatred in his eyes. “We have an eye-witness account for what happened, there is no point in arguing when the verdict is clear. It is a waste of time.”

“No, no, that’s not fair, he deserves a trial just like everyone else.” You’re breathing heavily and suddenly it feels like there isn’t enough air in the room to fill your tired lungs. “You — you can’t just send him to Azkaban like that!”

“I can.”

“But — “

“The man has murdered thirteen innocent people!” Crouch bellows, his face red with anger. “Poor Peter Pettigrew, he was your friend! He tore after Sirius, told him just what he thought of his betrayal, and was murdered for it! Twelve innocent civilians, victims of his sick and twisted mind! James and Lily, betrayed by their closest friend — Harry Potter, betrayed by his godfather!”

His eyes are bulging out of their sockets and his fists are clenched on the desk. The room goes silent but for your uncontrollable sobs and Crouch’s heavy breathing across the desk from you. You screw your eyes shut and silently beg anyone listening to take it all away, to make this day never happen. To turn back time and keep your friends alive. Anything to get rid of this obliterating feeling.

“You got what you wanted, Barty,” Moody grunts from behind you. “Give the girl a break.”

When Moody takes your arm and pulls you out of Crouch’s office, you can barely see straight. You desperately try to process everything that’s going on, but it’s impossible. The very notion that James and Lily could be dead is inconceivable to you. Not your best friend, not your Lily, who promised you’d be best friends until you were old and frail. How could someone so sweet and wonderful, so full of life — how could she ever die? How could someone ever snuff out that perfect, unending light that was her soul? She always told you that your kids would grow up together, that they would be the best of friends just like you were — how can you ever come to terms with the fact that she will never get to see that become a reality? How will you ever adjust to life without James’s grins, without his constant jokes and laughter — who will you and Lily laugh at, how will you watch the way her face lights up when he enters the room if he’s dead?

Workers stare at you as you pass through the halls with Moody, they turn and anxiously whisper with their colleagues, but you don’t even notice. When Moody sits you down in his office, he doesn’t say anything. He says absolutely nothing and lets you stare at the chipped wood of his desk, lets you sob and weep and scream and wail, lets you mutter and babble incoherently.

The next day the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, gives you more Veritaserum and interrogates you with similar questions to Crouch. You scream and roar about Sirius — you just want to talk to him, you just want to see him — and when it gets you nowhere Moody takes you back to his office and silently lets you stew for hours again.

This routine continues for a week. Every day someone seems to have a new question to catch you out — one that will finally reveal that you knew something, or you helped someone — each new person bringing a fresh glass of water laced with a hefty dose of Veritaserum. You've actually gotten good at tasting the difference between the water they give you and the water Moody gives you, which is clean and potion-less, straight from his hip flask.

When you get home it doesn’t feel like home. You step in the door and cry, hot tears stinging your eyes. You spot a photo on your kitchen counter — it’s you and Sirius, on your birthday. You're sitting at the kitchen table, and his arm is around your waist while you lean into him, a gleeful grin on your face. It sets you off and in a fit of rage you throw it against the wall, shattering it. The second the photo hits the floor you’re filled with regret, and you rush to assess the damage. You try and repair it with your wand but you can’t focus properly on the spell, and spend an hour trying to carefully glue it back together with shaky hands.

You can't do anything. You feel bad doing the things you enjoy, like listening to music or reading a book — Sirius can't do these things in Azkaban. James and Lily can't do these things in death. You have no appetite and the days seem to blur and blur until you have no idea what time it is.

Why did this have to happen to your family?

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

December, 1995

You don’t think you’ve ever been as excited when Christmas break finally arrives. The last two years have been spent at Hogwarts, and the others at your parents’ house with Remus. Your parents love Remus — he’s like a son to them. And now you finally get to spend it with everyone you love, especially Sirius. However, getting to Grimmauld Place for the holidays isn’t as easy as expected.

A few days before the end of term while you’re helping decorate the entrance hall, Umbridge approaches. “Excited for Christmas, professor?”

It takes you a second to get over the initial shock of her actually speaking to you, and you turn back to your decorations. “Yes.”

“And where will you be staying this Christmas?” she asks. “As Hogwarts High Inquisitor, it is pertinent that I know where all staff are over the period in case I should need to contact them with anything urgent.”

She smiles at you and you resist the urge to gag at the sight of her.

“I’m going to my parents’ house,” you reply, lifting some tinsel in the air with your wand and lining it along a portrait of an elegant woman standing beneath an apple tree.

“How festive!” the woman in the portrait comments.

Umbridge cocks her head with interest. “Your parents? But I have heard that you usually stay at Hogwarts.”

You shrug. “Thought I’d switch it up this year.”

“Is there any particular reason this sudden change was brought on?” she asks, smiling condescendingly.

You pick up the box of decorations with one hand and turn to her. “I miss them.” Before she can interrogate you any more, you march away from her, fixing boughs of holly and mistletoe branches as you go.

You join the rest of the students on the Hogwarts Express back to King’s Cross, taking the time to carefully wrap presents and write cards. It’s a lot of work to get home. You’re not going to risk heading straight to London to Grimmauld Place, not with the chance of being followed — which you expect every time you leave Hogwarts. You go to the house first, pick up some extra clothes, before getting on another train to your parents’ house. You have dinner with them there and trade gifts until nightfall, when you pack up your things again and, disguising yourself as best you can, make your way to Grimmauld Place with Dubh sleeping soundly in your bag as you go.

“Well, you better be honoured that I went through all that zig-zagging across the country just to see you,” you say when Sirius greets you at the door. You don’t think the grin on his face could be any wider when his eyes meet yours. Remus follows him through the corridor, smiling.

“Believe me, I’m more than honoured,” Sirius says, striding forward to place both hands on your cheeks and bring your mouth to his, kissing you desperately. You drop your bags in surprise, chuckling against his lips. When you pull back, his head follows you and you laugh, putting your hands on his shoulders to gently push him back.

“Easy, Sirius, we’ve got company,” you tease, nodding at Remus, who rolls his eyes.

Sirius turns to Remus, grinning. “Can’t let me have a moment, can you?”

He shrugs. “Guess not.”

You give Remus a hug before heading into the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley is busy preparing dinner. There are bags under her eyes when she turns to greet you, the stress of Arthur’s injuries clearly getting to her.

“Let me give you a hand, Molly,” you say, and though usually she would tell you not to be silly, this time she accepts your help gratefully, allowing you to take over most of the workload while she busies herself with setting the table.

Sirius is in a brilliant mood, singing Christmas carols as he sets about the place putting up decorations. You don’t think you’ve seen him this happy in a long time and it calms your anxious heart. He works tirelessly up to Christmas Day, determined to make the house unrecognisable — and he actually manages to do a pretty decent job of turning the dusty old place into a warm, cheerful home. Garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers hang from the chandeliers, and a great twinkling Christmas tree, acquired by Mundungus, hides the Black family tree from view. Mistletoe branches are placed over the entrances to different rooms, and every chance he gets Sirius is pulling you under one to steal a kiss. Even the elf heads on the wall are wearing little Santa hats and beards.

He wakes up early on Christmas Day like a child desperate to unwrap their presents and shakes you awake, much to your annoyance.

“Sirius, this better be good —”

“Just look.”

He points at the window, grinning, and after rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you turn to look at what he’s pointing at.

There, at the window, is a brand-new telescope, aimed at the sky above. A glittery gold bow has been stuck to the top of it.

“You were complaining about not having your telescope here over the summer, that the one at home is too difficult to transport, so —”

You beam, throwing your arms around him gleefully. “Oh, I love it, Sirius!”

You kiss him, lingering for several moments to relish in the feeling of his lips on yours, unable to fight the smile on your face while you do. You thread your fingers through his hair, giggling.

“How did you even buy it? Don’t tell me you left —”

“I didn’t leave the house, no,” Sirius says with a roll of his eyes. “I sent Remus to get it and gave him the money.”

You smile good-naturedly at him. “Poor Remus.”

He snorts.

You kiss him one last time. “You are the absolute best. I love you.”

He smiles and you pull away to reach under the bed and produce his present, neatly wrapped in red and gold wrapping paper. Curiously, he unwraps it to reveal a small bottle of dark blue liquid, turning it around in his hands before his eyes widen in shock, laughing.

“I — how did you get this?” he says in disbelief. “I thought it would be discontinued by now.”

You beam. “I never reveal my secrets.” You nod at him, smiling. “Go on, test it out. I want to see if it’s actually the same.”

Sirius pulls the cap off the bottle, aiming the nozzle at his wrist and spraying it, rubbing it in with the other before holding his wrist out to you to test. Leaning forward, you sniff and laugh, grinning at him. It’s the cologne he used to wear for years before his capture, he used to say it was his signature scent. The same cologne you remember smelling inside your Amortentia potion in sixth year.

“Perfect.”

He smiles at you, pulling you towards him to kiss you again. “Thank you,” he breathes between kisses, smiling against your lips. “You’re perfect. I love you.”

When you finally disentangle from each other, you get dressed and head downstairs — though not before you’ve thoroughly inspected your new telescope, delighting in the cleanness of it and the crystal-clear focus of the untouched lenses.

In the kitchen, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are peering into Kreacher’s den opposite the pantry and Mrs Weasley is standing at the stove, sniffling when she wishes you both Merry Christmas. You’re about to check what’s wrong when Sirius taps your side, silently shaking his head.

“Percy,” he whispers near-imperceptibly into your ear, and you nod in understanding. Then he raises his voice, “I’ll get the turkey.”

He heads into the pantry and you make your way over to the kids, smiling. “Happy Christmas, guys. What are you up to?”

“I have a present for Kreacher,” Hermione explains, laying a package on top of the rags and blankets in the dingy cupboard, right beside the glass photos Kreacher hoards of Sirius’ family. She frowns. “But he’s not here…I guess he’ll find it later, it’s fine.”

“Come to think of it,” Sirius says, emerging from the pantry carrying a large turkey as Harry closes the cupboard door, “has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?”

“I haven’t seen him since the night we came back here,” says Harry. “You were ordering him out of the kitchen.”

“Yeah…” Sirius frowns. “You know, I think that’s the last time I saw him, too…he must be hiding upstairs somewhere…”

“He couldn’t have left, could he?” Harry suggests. “I mean, when you said ‘out’, maybe he thought you meant get out of the house?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, no, house elves can’t leave unless they’re given clothes, they’re tied to their family’s house.”

“They can leave the house if they really want to,” Harry contradicts. “Dobby did, he left the Malfoys’ house to give me warnings two years ago. He had to punish himself afterward, but he still managed it.”

Sirius looks slightly disconcerted for a moment, meeting your eyes, before he shakes his head. “I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother’s old bloomers or something…of course, he might’ve crawled up into the airing cupboard and died…but I mustn’t get my hopes up…”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though Hermione looks reproachful.

“Thanks for the presents, by the way,” Harry says, smiling at the two of you.

You beam back at him, thinking of the book on defensive spells and the treats from Honeydukes you had left at the foot of his bed last night. “You’re very welcome!”

You receive an assortment of different kinds of magical teas from Remus, noting with interest the box of earl grey that apparently makes the drinker see everything in black and white for a few minutes, and the green tea that gives levitation. In return, you buy him a set of expensive oil paints which he delights in, promising that you will be the first person to get a painting made with them.

After you have dinner, the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione, head to St Mungo’s to visit Arthur along with Moody and Remus to escort them. You had intended to go, but upon seeing the look on Sirius’s face when everyone leaves, you decide against it.

Before they go, you shove two small bags into Remus’ hands. “Give these to Frank and Alice, will you? Oh, and give this to Arthur.”

You hand him a paddle with a ball attached to it by a string — another Muggle game you hope will keep him entertained in St Mungo’s.

“Of course.”

The place is oddly quiet without everyone else, and you feel a rush of sympathy for Sirius at how lonely the house feels without anyone in it. It reminds you of the silence in your home without him there.

But at the same time, it’s nice. You stand side-by-side as you wash the dishes, handing them to him so he can dry them with a tea towel, and relay all your grievances about Umbridge.

“And then she said, ‘I know you’re hiding something…or should I say someone?’ and she smiled — you do not want to see her smile, by the way, it’s unnerving — but she thought she was well clever, as if she’s the first person to ever think that I could be hiding you away somewhere —”

“Well, you are, to be fair.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know for sure. She just thinks I am,” you say matter-of-factly, handing him another plate.

The scene is so domestic, that it’s almost foreign to you. You went over a decade without him and strangely, it’s little moments like this that you missed the most. Quiet, everyday things.

“Oh, and Mam and Dad said to tell you they said hello,” you say, smiling. “I think my dad misses you quite a lot — or maybe he just misses having someone to order around.”

Sirius chuckles, plates clinking as he returns them to the cupboard. “He always made me work every time we visited. And it’s not like I could say no, either — don’t want to get on the wrong side of the in-laws.”

“A flawless plan, really.”

He hums in agreement, sighing. You hand him the last few cups and he places them in the press before dusting his hands off. “I suppose I should look for Kreacher, before he decides to turn our bedroom into a shrine for my mother…”

Later, it's revealed that Kreacher had been hiding up in the attic — Sirius found him covered in dust, no doubt searching for more Black family relics.

When everyone else turns in for the night, it's just you and Sirius left in the kitchen. You let out a yawn as he drums his fingers on the table, before his face lights up with intent and he stands up and moves away from the table. Curious, you watch as he produces an old record player and blows the dust off of it, then he carefully pulls the needle onto the record and with a crackle, soft music starts playing.

Sirius extends a hand to you, smiling. “Care for a dance?”

You laugh, looking up at him in disbelief. “Oh, you're not serious…I haven't danced in forever —”

“That doesn't matter. Neither have I.”

He pushes his hand further to urge you, and you hesitantly place your hand in his and allow him to pull you out of your seat and into the middle of the floor. The space you have in the kitchen is limited, but it doesn't seem to bother Sirius at all.

Gentle but firm, he places the hand not holding yours on your lower back, and you place your free hand on his shoulder, your face inches from his.

He starts to lead you in a slow sway, and strangely enough you find yourself moving without thinking, muscle memory kicking in. Sighing contentedly, you slot your head into the crook of his neck. You can smell his new (or old?) cologne on his skin.

“Do you think we would’ve been good parents?” you ask softly. “If we had got the chance.”

You feel the nod of his head as he hums. “We would’ve been the best parents, love. And our kids would be lucky enough to inherit all our incredible genes.”

You chuckle, reaching your hand up to his hair to gently pull at the soft strands. “I think they would get your hair.”

“And your eyes, I hope.”

“They’d be clever.”

“And funny — and they'd all be Gryffindors, no doubt.”

You raise an eyebrow. “They’ll all have my smarts, you know. They could be in Ravenclaw.”

Sirius laughs. “Oh, really? Well, if you were so smart then why weren't you placed in Ravenclaw?”

You shrug, biting back a grin. “I look better in red.”

He gently spins you around to the music, and your eye catches on one of the Weasleys’ scarves on the kitchen counter, red and gold sparkling in the light.

“Everyone would love them,” you say, smiling sweetly. “They'd ace every subject and brag about how cool their parents are.”

“They'd dress cool and have incredible taste in music.”

You chuckle, heart aching at the what-ifs. The what could have happened. “They’d be kind to everyone.”

“But not afraid to stand up for themselves.”

“They'd be like you.”

“They'd be just like you.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

On the very last day of the holidays, you sit at the kitchen table beside Sirius, the room completely silent, as he glares across at Snape. You're not sure, but you think he might be trying to incinerate the man with just his eyes — though so far he has made no progress.

Harry enters the kitchen, looking quite puzzled and nervous to see Snape sitting there. “Uh.”

“Sit down, Potter.”

“You know,” Sirius says, leaning back on the rear legs of his chair as far back as he can and looking up at the ceiling, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see.”

An ugly flush rises in Snape’s face. Harry sits down on Sirius’ other side, the three of you facing across at Snape.

“I was supposed to see you alone, Potter,” Snape says, a familiar sneer curling his lips, “but the Blacks — “

“We’re his godparents,” Sirius says loudly.

“I am here on Dumbledore’s orders, but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel…involved.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sirius lets his chair fall back onto four legs with a bang.

“Merely that I am sure you must feel — ah — frustrated by the fact you can do nothing useful for the Order.”

Snape's lip curls in triumph and your fist clenches under the table.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, though still loud enough for Snape to hear, based on the way his eye twitches slightly.

Snape turns to Harry. “The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.”

“Study what?” Harry says blankly.

“Occlumency, Potter. The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one.”

“Why do I have to study Occlu — thing?”

“Because the headmaster thinks it a good idea,” Snape says smoothly. “You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?”

“Yes,” Harry says, thumbing the sleeve of his jumper nervously. “Who's going to be teaching me?”

“I am,” Snape answers.

“Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?” Sirius says aggressively. “Why you?”

“I suppose because it's a headmaster’s privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,” says Snape silkily. “I assure you I did not beg for the job.” He gets to his feet. “I will expect you at six o’clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anyone asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them.”

He turns to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.

Sirius sits straighter in his chair. “Wait a moment.”

Snape turns back to face you, sneering. “I am in rather a hurry, Black…unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time…”

“I’ll get to the point, then,” Sirius says, standing up. “If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to.”

“How touching,” Snape sneers. “But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?”

“Yes, I have,” Sirius answers proudly.

“Well then, you’ll notice he's so arrogant that criticism bounces off him.”

Sirius pushes his chair aside roughly and strides around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he goes. Snape whips out his own. They square up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculated, his eyes flicking between Sirius' wand to his face.

“Sirius!” You say loudly, but he appears not to hear you.

“I've warned you, Snivellus,” he says, face barely a foot from Snape’s, “I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you're reformed, I know better —”

“Oh, but why don't you tell him so?” Snape whispers venomously. “Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother’s house for six months very seriously?”

You would jump in but before you can even think about opening your mouth, Sirius is biting back at him.

“Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog’s working at Hogwarts, isn’t he?”

“Speaking of dogs,” Snape says softly, “did you know Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform…gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in the future, didn't it?”

Sirius raises his wand.

“No!” You yell, moving to try and get between them. “Don’t be stupid —”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Sirius snaps at Snape.

“Why, yes, I suppose I am.”

The door opens and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, enters the kitchen, all looking very pleased with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst, dressed in a pair of striped pajamas.

“Cured!” he announces brightly to the room. “Completely cured!”

He and all the other Weasleys freeze when they take in the scene before them: Sirius and Snape with their wands drawn and pointing into each other’s faces, and you and Harry beside them, watching on in shock.

“Merlin’s beard,” says Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face. “What's going on here?”

The two men lower their wands, both wearing twin expressions of the utmost contempt. Snape pockets his and sweeps across the room, saying nothing to the Weasleys as he passes, and pauses at the door.

“Six o’clock Monday evening, Potter.”

He leaves, and Sirius glares after him, wand held tightly in a white-knuckled grip at his side.

“But what's been going on?”

“Nothing, Arthur,” you answer, stepping forward to greet them, “nothing to worry about.” Over your shoulder, you shoot Sirius a reprimanding look, before turning back and plastering a smile on your face. “So, you're cured? That's brilliant, Arthur, really! Great news, honestly…”

“Yes, isn't it?” says Mrs Weasley, leading her husband into a chair, beaming. “Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake’s got in its fangs, and Arthur’s learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, haven't you, dear?” she adds, rather menacingly.

“Yes, Molly, dear,” Mr Weasley responds meekly.

Dinner that evening is a cheerful one, though you can tell that Sirius is far from the happy face he's putting on at the moment. When he's not laughing at loudly at Fred and George’s jokes, or offering everyone more food, he falls back into a sour expression.

When you get ready for bed that night, taking off your jewellery, you look over at him.

“I thought you would know by now not to listen to Snape’s goading,” you say. “He only says that stuff to rile you up.”

“I know, I know—”

“Didn't seem like you knew that,” you say, a bitterness lining the edges of your words.

“You heard what he said about James, about Harry,” he mutters angrily. “What kind of person would I be if I didn't defend them?”

“You don't need to defend them with your wand. He only wants to get a reaction from you, and you're giving him exactly what he wants. Leave the wand in your pocket next time. He has nothing on you.”

With a clink, you drop your earrings into the little ceramic plate on your nightstand.

He huffs in disagreement. “He's right about one thing: I’m of no use to the Order sitting here.”

You turn to him sharply, moving forward to sit on the bed beside him. “Forget the Order. Sure I'm not much use to it either, staying at Hogwarts all the time, am I?”

He opens his mouth to refute this but you continue talking before he can say anything.

“You’re of use to Harry. You don't realise how much he needs you,” you say softly, pulling a lock of hair behind his ear. “He really loves you, Sirius, and he is a lot better off now that you're in his life. Nevermind what Snape said — he might be doing the most for the Order, but that doesn’t automatically make him a good person. He is cruel and enjoys ruining the happiness of others. You do not, and for that you are a million times better than him.”

He leans into your touch, sighing. “I would have killed him.”

You snort, laughing. “He would've killed you. You might've been good with your wand when you were twenty, but Snape’s got a decade of practice over you while you were in Azkaban.”

He moves against your hand to press a kiss to the inside of your palm, before falling back on the bed with a loud, exasperated sigh.

“I hate him.”

You laugh. “Me too, Sirius, me too.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

>>read chapter 31 here!

→ all kinds of interaction greatly appreciated! ♡

not to sound like a broken record...but sorry for the delayed upload. also sorry for the sad start to this chapter, hope i made up for it later on :) happy christmas everyone! I can't begin to describe how kind everyone who has read this series has been to me. You have all been absolutely lovely and writing this would not be possible without all your endless support. I love you all ❤️

As always, the biggest hugs and kisses to my taglist loves:

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @navs-bhat

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[inarjollyhound]

Fixed Points in time in BDFI's Timeline

TPOT 15/BFDIA 17 Spoilers

I think it's very interesting which events are either completely or mostly unaffected or resistant to any of changing timelines in TPOT 15 and BFDIA 17.

Voting Results

Even before One bestows everyone with the knowledge of the original timeline- none of the vote results are changed- Aside from the implication that Taco won the 1-vote difference in that Post-split BFB episode in the Pillory Ruins.

2. The Challenge for TPOT 15.

This could have been put at risk- if all of the active hosts hear that the OG timeline involved them not being the host (Especially Four and Announcer). Thank fully, it seems that only a couple of them heard the implication that someone else was supposed to be the host.

Thankfully, despite all the variation, most of them can agree that the stability of the timeline/saftey of the world is more important than their ambitions or personal interests.

Which in contrast- says a lot about how strongly pencil feels about getting eliminated

3. The Shift/The BFDIA/TPOT Yoyalite time travel catalysts.

Despite the collapsing time-periods, It seems that the universe is pree-desposed to avoiding a grandfather paradox at all costs- Which is to say, *None of the timeline shifts Prevent either Golf-Ball or Nickel from getting sent forward in time- nor do they change how the rejects in TPOT get sent back in time.* The Yoyalite time-travel events seem to be canon events in it of themselves. So fate seems to be weighted in favor of self-preservation.

In fact, this could probably be the explanation as to why Leafy being invited into Dream Island was so destructive- It's probably one of if not THE most destructive Grand-father Paradox-esque type cf change that could happen to the time-line.

(This also implies that Leafy's loss of Dream island and Firey/Tax Income Document's relationship is also a canon event)

4. Marker's Color/The Present Contestant's appearances

This seems like something that's really not all that stable or un-affected given the start of the episode- but I do think it's notable that Marker only changes Color *Once* in the wake of all the changing timelines hosts and artstyles in the very begining- and also remains the same after it's mostly stabilized.

And to a lesser degree- One giving all of the contestants knowledge of the prime timeline seemed to also prevent them from changing their art-style, like what happened at the intro.

This could imply that either External Knowledge inherently maintains a level of stability in the present- or Four did just a little more than keep everyone's memories.

5. The other Timeline Anomaly Events.

Akin to what I described on #3, it seems like almost none of the times that the Rejects teleport to are changed beyond recognition by any other timeline change from another contesting going even further back- that is, beyond Firey getting replaced by Tax Return Document.

CONCLUSIONS

From this- two possibilities come to mind-

The Timeline is Ultimately predisposed to avoiding any divergence to a change in canon or fate- keeping things from being as bad or incomprehensible is it *Could* be.

1a. It's not fate or the Universe, One has been keeping the timeline a bit more stable to drag things out- so to convince Gaty to sign the contract more efficiently.

1b. It could also be Black Hole- either locking in and keeping things together, or he's just unintentionally/instinctually keeping the fabric of the universe together- while being unaware of their portential.

2. Yoyalite can Access Alternate Universes, in addition to Time Travel.

The present timeline isn't especially Stable or resistant- Yoyalite is just capable of allowing it's users to *Leave it entirely*

The butterfly effects and grandfather paradoxes *ARE* happening, the Yoyalite is just capable of sending people to whatever specific parallel dimension or event is happening- even if not a part of the current timeline.

The Contestents having the knowledge of the Prime canon timeline, is the sole reason that none of the contants are lost to the infinite possibilities and time-line splits. The know which paralell universe splits to go to, therefore the Yoylelite can take them there.

The only major Anomaly here- Is the fact that the Changes in Total Firey Island are so substantial- That they can somehow over-ride the universes contants visit from that moment onwards.

Perhaps There's something Unique about Total Firey Island that gives it a higher level of influence of all the universe than what they Yoyalite can do.

(Perhaps this means Yoyalite is a canonically viable means access other realities- like Inanimate Insanity, or other object shows- if you don't consider the Meetup skits to be canon as is.)

-ANYWAYS.

I'm a huge dork about timetravel in media, and have a lot more fun coming with conclusions than conceding "oh welp, i guess that's just a plot hole"

So if anyone found any interesting implations from my theories- ENJOY i gues xD

[thatdeadaquarius]

That language SAGAU but the Reader can only communicate writing on paper.

Either the Reader is mute and they (characters) don't know/understand sign language or they somehow lost their voices on their transmigration to Teyvat and can only write now. But the characters are left trying to decipher what the Reader wrote.

Examples:

Kaeya: "I may say, that was very unexpected your grace. One such as yourself should be more aware of who you are."

Reader: "wat, y u sayin dat?"

×

Gorou: "Oh, your grace! Careful now. I am most certain that you stepped on something unsightly right now. Let me clean your feet, your grace."

Reader: "r u srs rn? Fml"

Ooooo, this is nice, this is niiccceeee /ref

this would be the energy⬇️

Man I love this show, I gotta finish it (it’s Komi Can’t Communicate for those who want to see it) where she basically is too shy/introverted to speak (non-verbal neurospicy it seems like to me actually lol) and really wants to make friends and do normal things despite not speaking, her main way of communicating is writing (and her first guy friend who can just read her facial/body language really well lmao)!!

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Headcanons-ish?

Stars: dashes/mention of most characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader/”you” are mute/lost their voice, & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

This kinda falls into that post I made abt texting lingo, abt us being nigh incomprehensible when using texting lang. (its basically a code lol)

but i think it’s always neat to see nonverbal rep so here we are (also i think imma go ahead and say it is both selectively mute but also enforced by video game laws!)

u know a good explanation would be for this is actually abt how we technically are only allowed to freely communicate when we’re in chats,

so I could see that still being the only way we can commnicate in Teyvat (look am i little excited abt taking “video game world” a little too literally in every genshin AU ever- maybe.)

tbh i could see so many allogenes having to either learn to make room for you in convos and u also having to get wayyy more expressive in body language/facial expressions

tbh i think itd be pretty easy to get ur meaning, like in a battle or smth fast-paced where u couldnt write, like how Tinker Bell can?

if u dont know what i mean just search “tinkerbell scenes peter pan” on youtube and u can see ppl just having a full conversation with no words with her, which i think would deffo happen with ppl like Kaeya, Lisa, Lumine, Venti, Heizou, Ayato, Yae Miko, Thoma, Beidou and Itto surprisingly i could see it (ppl in the distance just think theyre all talking to themselves sometimes when ur not as visible hehe)

OMG they get u nice gifts for writing all the time, like the newest compact pens from Fontaine, the finest small, medium, and large notebooks from Inazuma,

like a little compact pocketbook so u can easily fit it in pockets!

u know Im absolutely sure you could literally start the texting appreviation trend in Tevyat like this-

like just so it’s easier to communicate with you, a lot of people are willing to adapt/take on abbreviations like “ttyl, gtg, wth, lol, lmao” even stuff like “etc”

lol u start a whole trend in the writing letters business, hehe silly medieval Teyvat is silly and medieval

yknow I think the quieter vision users would definitely find you to be peaceful to be around and easy to understand just with writing (also deffo most likely to adore the soft moments together of just ur pen scribbling and the sounds of nature or a cafe or something around them),

tbh i also think these ppl would be motivated to talk to you alone, or get you away to just talk the two of you for all the reasons above, like Xiao, Aether, Kazuha, Ayaka, Chongyun, Zhongli, Diluc, Sayu, Ei, Sucrose, Eula, Ganyu, Ningguang, Tighnari, Alhaitham omg he might literally be able to take his headphones off around u bc youd be in such quiet spaces all the time, and bc u dont talk he doesn’t have to worry abt u getting loud either lmao

…and then ofc, there’s the bitches that try and guess what ur writing ahead of timeeee 😭

bein all like, “Uh… you.. would like.. to go to… a restaurant… to get some- OH OH I got this one this time! Some pita pockets! …Oh. A drink. Right. Sorry, again.”

definitely Itto, Cyno, Heizou, Xingqiu, Fischl, Amber, Collei, Dehya, Wanderer, Childe, Venti, Keqing (she just used to being fast ok), Kaveh lmao

☆

I hope my reply was a little fun!! THANK U FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE THIS SM!! Man it’s so hard to make you feel my appreciation for this idea thru the damn screen

like how do i send a virtual hug

ANYWAY, if you or anybody else had an idea for celebrating 1000 followers lmk bc i am STRUGGLING with this same issue for that,

like how to make u guys feel my love 😩 ❤️‍🔥

☆

Safe travels ignihideous,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

[girlcrushart]

There are a handful of girls who've been with me on my tumblr journey since the very beginning. Girls like Alexis Ren and Rachel Cook and a few others will always be OG tumblr girls for me. And I've made a whole bunch of posters of those girls. What's super weird is that this is my first ever Marloes Horst poster, which is practically incomprehensible to me bc I'd put Marloes into the same camp as the other girls and I honestly think that maybe I was just hacked by a very weird niche hacker who's goal was to remove all traces of Marloes Horst from my archive and make me think I've never posted her before. Honestly that must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense. I guess this is how people end up believing conspiracy theories. Today's girlcrushart guardian is Marloes Horst.

[valrayne-faeu]

I was visiting some old posts and you mentioned going from Spring Court to Winter Court isnt good for mortals. Is there any big reason behind that (like an accident?) or is it just because the weather change can be too much for someone?

it's a magical reason! it has to do with the Courts being related to the seasons; Spring comes after Winter, so to travel from Spring back into Winter is considered travelling backwards by the realm and it doesn't like it. all sorts of things can go wrong if you travel through the Courts in the wrong order, and only well-travelled/knowledgeable fae can do so safely.

there isn't one specific incident to point to as the cause of it, it's just how things are; it's one of the weird 'rules' that dictate the realm.

in the interest of keeping things otherworldly/unexplainable/incomprehensible, we won't give a concrete answer for what exactly will happen. we will say that there are many different things that can happen; some benign, some confounding, and some dangerous. just know that travelling that way is like "going back in time" in a realm that isn't dictated by our familiar laws of reality. there's no telling what will happen but it's not worth gambling with it.

(for the sake of some examples, though; you could end up in a completely different area of the court with no explanation how you travelled that far or right back where you started; you could end up in the past; you could end up in the future, the journey having taken significantly longer than it should've; you could find that you've aged or even de-aged; you could end your journey finding that you no longer speak the same language as those around you; losing time from your life; shortening the amount of time you can safely stay in the realm by an unknown amount etc)

[tobiasdrake]

Your previous posts on how much smarter Vegeta was during the Saiyan and Namek Arcs made me think, and I believe I've pondered an explanation. And it revolves around Vegeta's poison.

See, Vegeta CAN be very smart...when he's dealing with the unsurmountable and/or incomprehensible. Problem is, when he's got a handle on the situation, or THINKS he does, he's prone to getting very overconfident and sloppy.

During the Saiyan Arc, he's dealing with the Earthlings and their ki manipulation. As you've mentioned, nobody in the Freeza Force does with Ki what Earthlings do. So he's on his guard, even when it becomes apparent that the puny Earthlings, even their token Namekian can't stand against the Saiyans. Once Goku wins their Beam-clash, he goes Grape Ape on their asses...but instead of going for the kill, draws it out to gloat, giving Yajirobe the opening for some tail-removal.

Namek has him dealing with FREEZA, THE STRONGEST BEING IN THE UNIVERSE!!! And so, instead of going head-on, Vegeta uses guerrilla tactics, whittling Freeza's forces down bit-by-bit while keeping his power suppressed. However, once he thinks he's Zenkai-boosted enough, he gets very cocky...and very dead.

The Android and Buu Sagas are where Vegeta's poisonous pride are at their worst, as he's so sure he's one of the strongest beings that he continually dismisses the warnings given by the Kid From The Future and the God of God (in this universe). "Oh, that terrible threat you're worried about? Big deal, I can take it." We all know how THAT turned out.

The final battle against Kid Buu is probably when we see Vegeta go back to being his tactical, intelligent self, as he lets go of his superiority complex and acknowledges Goku being his superior.

To be fair about dismissing Kaioshin's warnings, he makes a valid point when he brings up the fact that Kaioshin sorely lowballed the Saiyans' abilities.

Vegeta accuses that Kaioshin's been going "WTF HOW ARE YOU SO STRONG OMGGGGGGG" for the entire arc since they started fighting. Kaioshin's idea of a truly insurmountable foe is Dabra, and Dabra was only a threat because Gohan was rusy; Goku or Vegeta would have wasted him in three seconds flat.

Kaioshin's frame of reference is far, far below Goku and Vegeta's. So when Kaioshin says, "This guy is SO STRONG, you have no idea," how seriously are they supposed to take that?

Imagine if Krillin ran in going, "Guys, I'm serious, this is the most powerful foe I've ever fought!" Like. Okay. But that's Krillin talking.

Vegeta isn't right to be so dismissive of Buu. The wise course of action would be to remain cautious anyway, and that is how Gohan approaches it. In fact, being so dismissive of Buu has dire consequences for him and everyone else.

But his chain of logic does connect. It makes sense that he, at least, would think that way.

A far cry from the Semi-Perfect Cell incident, where he was just high on a speedball of mind-altering Super Saiyan effects and his own stupid ego.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The new Oligarchy

+

“We live in a world where the one thing that remains certain remains deeply true: Donald Trump cannot be trusted to tell the truth to anyone, at any time, about anything.”

Steve Schmidt :: @SteveSchmidtSES

+

A day filled with lies.

June 26, 2025

Robert B. Hubbell

Members of the Trump administration spent most of the day on Wednesday lying to the American people, Congress, and our NATO allies. If the major media in America had any interest in holding the Trump administration accountable, any one of the lies could have served as the lead story in dozens of major outlets. Instead, the press not only ignored the lies but repeated them uncritically, providing the lies with a misleading aura of legitimacy and credibility.

How did we get here? Can we do anything about it? Does it matter?

The control of the major media by entrenched politicians and monied interests has been the steady state in American politics for most of our nation’s history. There have been (and are now) notable exceptions of fearless journalists and crusading outlets. But for the most part, the history of the American press is as a tool of monopolists, oligarchs, families with generational wealth, and party bosses. They wielded the press as a reactionary cudgel to protect their interests—money, property, and power.

These tendencies have been exacerbated by the concentration of media properties vertically and horizontally over the last fifty years. Today, a handful of corporations control most of the daily media content consumed by Americans.

The media as a champion of democracy and public interest that holds politicians to account is largely a post-Watergate phenomenon. The mealy-mouthed complacency of the major media outlets in Trump's second term is a regression to type and mean. (Again, there are exceptions.)

However, as Trump and his surrogates lied at a blistering pace on Wednesday, none of those lies made it onto the front pages of any national outlet. (Readers: Prove me wrong, please! Send me examples that disprove my assertion!)

How do we reconcile the deliberate failure to challenge Trump's lies with the outrage that met every statement by Joe Biden that reporters suspected of being anything less than 100% accurate? (Remember the time reporters screamed at Biden’s press secretary because they did not believe her truthful statement that a Parkinson’s specialist who was regularly visiting the White House was not treating Joe Biden? The doctor was, instead, treating military veterans on the White House staff who suffered traumatic brain injury in combat.)

Here is the simple explanation: Most major media outlets are afraid of Donald Trump. More to the point, they are cowards at a moment in history when the free press matters most to the protection of the Constitution. Their cowardice is subtle: Treating the first president to attempt a coup as legitimate; granting his wild lies a patina of credibility; sane-washing incomprehensible gibberish that typifies nearly every statement spoken or written by Trump; treating risible lies with the pretense of neutrality, and applying a false equivalency to competing political parties—one of which is seeking to destroy democracy and the other of which is trying to save it.

I offer the above observation not as a complaint, but as an explanation. It explains why we feel that we are rolling a boulder uphill while our political opponents ride golf carts to the top of the hill, only to have the media report that “Republicans beat Democrats in the race to the top of the hill.” I have quit hoping that the US Supreme Court will provide meaningful support in resisting Trump's lawlessness. I have given up that hope for the media, as well.

Let’s not bemoan our fate, but let’s not pull our punches, either: Our defense of democracy is made more difficult because Trump and his surrogates lie with impunity, having been granted a Golden Ticket by the major media.

We must step into the breach. We must be tireless—no, relentless—in speaking the truth in the face of Trump's lies. The reconciliation bill is a perfect example. It is a battle between truth and lies, reality and fantasy, and integrity and mendacity. Republicans will begin voting on the bill next week, clearing the way for the largest transfer of wealth from the working class to the top 1% in our nation’s history. See The Hill, (6/9/25), Only the Senate can stop the largest wealth transfer in US history.

Check out Jessica Craven’s Chop Wood Carry Water for easy, effective ways to contact your Senators: Chop Wood, Carry Water 6/24 - by Jess Craven. Or sign up for Field Team Six Social Storm Training (on Bluesky) on how to spread the truth far and wide. (Beginner and advanced classes are available.) The principles used for effective messaging on Bluesky can be transferred to other social media platforms.

We must take control of the political narrative. We have some allies in the fight (local press, boutique national outlets, and a handful of national outlets, e.g., The Guardian). But we must be fearless in using social media, newsletters, podcasts, TikTok, YouTube, Facebook, and any other platform that is accessible and effective. It is up to us. The press isn’t going to save us; indeed, we must save the press by demonstrating fearlessness in the pursuit of truth and the defense of democracy.

With the above background, let’s take a look at some of the many lies told by Trump and his minions, and how they were ignored by the press.

[Robert B. Hubbell newsletter]

[sketchalicious]

Hi!! I’m a big Ena fan who’s been doing some digging into fanworks from years past and I came across a mention of your “Bad End Ena” AU. I think the concept and designs are really frickin cool and I would love to know more. Unfortunately I can’t seem to find much information just from searching; would you be willing to briefly explain it, or point me to any pages of yours where I can find artworks/explanations?

Thank you!

oh my gosh hi !!! holy crap i cant believe that au's alive somewhere

im so sorry i havent opened my inbox in ages bc of an influx of bot stuff, I can give you a (not) quick rundown!! Placing it under the cut because of how lengthy this is haha. tldr at the end

Bad End Ena was an au i made in early high school I believe. I have a few comics/artwork on my old instagram @sketchalicious69 (it'll take a bit of scrolling.) i never put out any proper information of the story as that was something I wanted to format into a comic, but I got discouraged halfway through writing the outline. I never really could write things well lol, I figured no one would want the angsty slop i was making so I scrapped it.

tldr the comics portray her as a monarch of sorts who is off her rocker. She has Moony locked in a cage beside her in a throne room atop a massive castle peering over a city.

The main story for this comic was never posted, but to put a summary of what had happened, it was meant to take place after temptation stairway.

Ena had gone mad after peering into something incomprehensible and became obsessed with control and feeling important/like she had a place in her world. In other words, she failed to cope with something she couldn't understand, and dealt with it in the worst way possible. Moony was meant to escape and try to figure out what happened to Ena, as well as finding fragments of her mind to piece it back together. Merci was meant to help her.

I have some concepts on hand here:

i appreciate that you think it was cool though!!! that makes me happy lolol. Unfortunately I don't have much more than these concepts and what I've already posted, I believe I've only got a WIP of some written dialogue somewhere in my google docs besides this.

Maybe one day I'll pick it up again but I'm just not sure... I'd have to get a writer to help me on that haha. if you want I can answer questions/clarify some stuff, this is a really nice blast from the past

TLDR: Besides the few comic things ive posted on my instagram @sketchalicious69, nothing about the story was officially brought out publicly. In the au Ena had gone mad and taken over a majority of her world, while Moony was meant to escape her grasp and help her find herself again. It's literally just Queen Ena but if she was evil and crayze LOL

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday Eden Tobisa!

Turns out our favorite clock girly has her birthday on New Year's Eve! What a nice date for such a nice girl! Let's do a character analysis, fun facts, and songs!

-We know relatively little about Eden's backstory. The most notable thing we know about her life before the killing game, apart from her fascination with clocks, is what is revealed in her chapter 2 secret: "Ever since you kissed her, you were afraid your sexuality would ruin your friendships." Which is pretty straightforward; she's canonically a lesbian and is worried it would negatively affect her friendships.

-Literally the only other thing we know about her backstory is that she lived in Japan for a small period of time when she was younger, before moving back to the US. This was revealed in a Q&A.

(... You know, I made a deranged theory in my Mai post that maybe the girl that Eden kissed was actually Mai. It wasn't very serious, since it was just a silly way to try to explain what the hell Eden's quote in the Mai page could mean. But... we know Teruko was in Japan for a while when she was younger, and it's theorized she knew Mai before being separated from her at some point. Combined with Mai's name being seemingly Japanese, it could imply Mai also lived in Japan at some point. And if that's the case, it's possible she met Eden there? To be clear, that's still an insane possibility, but I do find it a funny possibility, which is why I'm sharing it)

-Apart from that, Eden's defining trait is her optimism and her trust in others. She sticks to Teruko's side even after she starts pushing everyone away in CH 1, and confesses to her that she believes "not caring about others is the worst way to live." She's importantly not naive, she does know their situation is horrible, but still she constantly searches for an exit and tries to build good friendships with the others.

-This includes baking with Min, Rose and Teruko in CH1, inviting Teruko and Arei to make clocks on CH2, etc. Basically, she's awesome and nice and mature.

-Also she loves clocks. Regular Ultimate stuff, she can apparently spend hours and hours working and losing track of time.

-Although for such an optimistic character, her secret quote is quite ominous. "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try." We have zero clue what this means at the moment, but at least it does fit the symbolism of time always moving forward.

-Meanwhile, her quote in the Mai page is "She kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up." This is even more incomprehensible! Eden, what in the world are you talking about?

-Alright, David MV. She doesn't have a color in Color Theory, but her numeral is XII (twelve). Go to 1:48:28 in this video for an explanation. God it's so convenient to have that lol.

Alright fun facts!

-As stated, her birthday (December 31st) lands on New Year's Eve. Maybe representing new beginnings or change, which certainly goes well with her character. How nice!

-Like most of the cast, she's American and right-handed.

-She's one of the only characters with dyed hair. Her hair was originally just brown.

-Her favorite color is daffodil yellow, because it's happy, and her least favorite color is blue, because it's "kind of a downer color." Areden shippers in shambles.

-Her favorite ice cream flavor is honeycomb. I didn't even know that existed but go off queen.

-She enjoys cute fashion, but also enjoys wearing androgynous style clothing.

-She likes food which is fun to make or prepare. How nice!

-She's biracial; her mother is black and her father is Japanese. This is why she spent a bit of time in Japan when she was younger.

-Her name in kanji is 飛佐【とび ・ さ】楽【いーでん】. Gonna leave any actual meaning as homework, but it's worth noting her name was anglicized. I think that would translate to "Iden", but her mother liked the name "Eden", so they went with that instead.

Finally, songs that remind me of her!

-Positive Parade by DECO*27

-Gone Fishing by Ghost & Pals (friendship!)

-Aura by Ghost & Pals

-In Iolite by Ghost & Pals

-Magnet by minato

-Those Who Carried On by Ghost & Pals

-I'm Glad You're Evil Too by PinocchioP

And Happy Birthday! And a happy new year! Well wishes to all you Tumblr peeps. Take care!

[futurechancer]

So, you have so TPTM OCs, don'tcha? What did Epsilon Girl, Genesis Girl, Solar Girl, Pulse Girl, Media Girl, Booru Girl, Corrosion Girl and Atheneum Girl go through, in a brief summary? What do they represent? Sorry for bothering!

LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THIS

EXPLANATIONS BELOW THE CUT

epsilon girl

she's the first girl i invented and was originally meant to be more similar to genesis girl in theme :) but in terms of theme epsilon girl is a bit. complicated.

she's basically a projection of my fears of change, wasting time, and not making a mark on history rolled up into one mess of a girl. she doesn't particularly have much of a backstory aside from feeling like she grew up faster than everyone around her

genesis girl

the girl of the hour (aka the girl i have the most concrete story for)!! her name is more a remnant from when she and epsilon girl were gonna be the same girl than anything else. i kept it because it's. a star thing i think.

she's most often correlated to stars because. something about people taking her at face value and appreciating what shows on the surface yet fearing her incomprehensibility.

she actually has a backstory! basically she's a theatre kid with gifted kid syndrome and undiagnosed autism. she fails to relate to her peers because of these things. now that i think about it like half my girls are basically just that. SHI

solar girl

fun frog fact! genesis girl and solar girl are the same :) consider solar girl to be a b-side to genesis girl that explores another part of her character (take note because this happens again)

solar is basically the gifted kid syndrome aspect, the song itself (so far) basically describing feeling either like an utter failure or a god to be praised with no in-between based solely on successes or failures in daily life. also there's religious imagery in the lyrics it's a fun time i might post the lyrics one day

pulse girl

she's probably the most straightforward in theme :3 hypochondria and otherwise fearing sudden pain and death!! a part of it is wholeheartedly trusting pop science and like. the shit your grandparents tell you. thinking cracking your knuckles causes arthritis except it's constantly checking to see if you're having a stroke despite no predisposition that would imply one

she doesn't really. have much a backstory BUT ONE DAY I WILL GET TO THAT PART. i thinj

media girl

one of my favorites actually :3 she too is pretty complicated so uh. she's basically made to encompass certain fictionkin/fictive experiences (hence 'media'). conforming when the way you work is inherently a deviation from the norm, struggles with identity, desperation to be liked, yk.

i was uh! not in a good place when i wrote this song but it ended up surprisingly rather rid of my more personal issues. media's whole backstory is basically trying to find people of her.. proclivity i guess?? in hopes that they were the missing link, despite having been burned so many times. the lyrics never really imply a sort of. happy ending for her but i think she would eventually feel better about herself

booru girl

but it gets worse before it gets better! this song is the only reason media girl is so rid of my personal issues bc this one's full of them /lh

and whaddya know? booru is media's b-side! :3

booru girl is sort of a delve into a single specific relationship media/booru must have had (that. mirrors the one i was in at the time. at least in part)

her name is in reference to online imageboards and the insane content they can sometimes hold within (it's a minor plotpoint in her story that she. looks at those on occasion idk)

it vaguely goes into her obsession with how people perceive her. her willingness to act for anyone who's willing to offer her any love. her willingness to express her hurt. to be hurt more, even. there's more i'll talk about another time perhaps but there are Implications in her story

writing this song in particular was a bit regrettable if i'm being honest but i also think it's a story that should be shared.

corrosion girl

her entire existence was a split second decision on my behalf

she's gone through her entire life not allowed to feel emotions because she doesn't express them properly! :3 and because of this she trained herself to never. feel basically. because expression emotions has been inexorably linked with hurting others in her head now.

now she struggles to connect with others because of how cold she acts. as if she's a statue. catatonic.

her name is sort of a double entendre? partially being about the thing a battery does and partially being about weathering stone

atheneum girl

the latest girl!!

she's sort of a spin on the whole 'quiet in the library' thing, her name basically just being a fancy word for library

her backstory is basically that Something happened to her in the past and she fears if she speaks up someone related to it will find out and ruin her. she thus feels as if she can't even talk to her therapist about what's really weighing on her! yaaay :)

like booru there are also some implications to her story that!! yeah

but otherwise thematically she's just representative of the fear of speaking up

oh yeah also

gay

[versegm]

What the fuck is up with Mashmorgan

Someone on neocities asked me to explain the appeal of Mashmorgan in a single concise post. Well I did it lads you've got your single post. It's also 1500 words long but that's not my problem. A lot of it is stuff I've already said in scattered posts/fics, so if you follow me this will not be any news for you, but if you ever need to redirect someone to an explanation of this ship you can direct them to this post. Also fair warning this will be incomprehensible without knowledge of lb6. This is by design.

Anyways. Enjoy.

The most basic shit about Mashmorgan is: Mash and Morgan spent a long time together. So long that Mash starts considering herself a part of the Fairy Calendar over the Queen's calendar (see: Totrot having to remind her "you're not the only one who remained, you're the one who is going home! You were never meant to be here in the first place.") Furthermore, Mash and Tonelico didn't just hang out. They were good fucking friends! Tonelico trusted Mash enough to tell her that Tonelico is, in fact, a ball of rage and ressentment wrapped in a savior skin (which is a big deal considering Tonelico lies to Fucking Everyone about her true feelings on things.) It's important to note that the ONLY time Morgan ever smiles during the entire lostbelt is with Mash ("Sure! We did our best, didn't we?" while sending Mash home.)

Speaking of, the fact that Tonelico sent Mash back in the present at all is very telling of Tonelico's feelings for Mash. The excuse she gives Totrot is "well I wanna recruit Mash later," but that's very obviously bull; Tonelico's last conversation with Mash makes it very clear that Tonelico expects them to be enemies later on. Besides, how can you recruit someone you know for a fact you won't remember? Morgan has zero reasons to send Mash back to her own time. She knows she's shooting herself in the foot by doing that. She KNOWS that Mash will turn out to be an enemy. But she's sending Mash back anyways. Because it's the right thing to do? Because it wouldn't be fair otherwise, and Morgan values fairness above all? Because Tonelico failed to save Uther, but she could still help one friend on this bitch of an earth? You tell me.

Now that's our basis to read Mash and Tonelico as exes, or people who pined for one another, or just very close besties, whatever you want. Which means we've now a wonderfully tragic romance (or friendship if that's your thing, but I feel like romance makes it tasties) of two people who do love each other but cannot stand by the same side because of widely differing ideals. Adding to that the dramatic irony of Mash and Morgan never knowing each other at the same time- Tonelico knows who Mash is, Mash doesn't know who Tonelico is. Mash knows who Morgan is, Morgan doesn't know who Mash is.

Mash still holds Tonelico's memory close to her heart- Tonelico (the summonable one) has a line mentioning that though she has no idea who Mash is, Mash keeps looking at her with sadness. Furthermore, while Morgan changed a lot from her Tonelico days, Mash still knows the woman pretty well- when asked if she's willing to fight, she responds "well yeah I know the gal she won't give up without a fight."

Obviously, Morgan doesn't remember Mash. But she still holds the knight in high regards; in the Fairy Cup event, she mentions that "oh lol you guys had Mash with you no wonder you guys turned out fine." Additionally, when you barge in her throne room early lb6.2 to ask her about Mash, Morgan does not remember that name, but she does react to the description of Fairy Knight Galahad. She doesn't remember Mash, but even without her memories something still echoes in her about it.

So that's all our canon basis to go wild. What are the roads we can explore with this ship then?

For Tonelico/Mash, there is obviously a "doomed romance" angle. Whether they're lovers who can't go anywhere, or people pining unwilling to start something at all, the fact is: this romance is doomed, and they both know it. They're from different worlds and times. Mash going home implies Tonelico's failure. This love cannot change anything, but it mattered that it was here.

For Mash/Morgan in lb6, there's the "lovers to enemies" angle. As I said before, they're clearly both still fond of each other on some level. But that's not enough. They both stand on either side of that war, because they each want to protect different things. The agony! The pain! Delicious. Of course, the most tragic part of this is that Mash didn't even get to kill Morgan herself. All of this, and they never got the catharsis of battle at the end. (I should add that I'm a firm believer of the inherent eroticism of homicide.)

Less obvious, but an aspect of their dynamic that I find really interesting is that... Mash is someone who is constantly asked by various nonhuman people for understanding. Goetia, the Lion King, Beryl, all asked Mash to understand their pov and goals. Because Mash, as a homunculus, fundamentally stands at the edge between human and nonhuman. She's legitimately these people's best shot at being understood. But through this pattern, Morgan is noticeably the one person who never asks for understanding. She explains herself, but that's it. What she does ask of Mash, however, is to find a good reason to fight Morgan. Cuz Tonelico just endured 3000 years of the most senseless and brutal violence- she’s just fresh out witnessing her attempt to save Britain being destroyed on a whim. The only thing Tonelico asks is for their fight to actually have meaning for once. Don’t face me just because I’m mildly inconvenient to you. Face me because you are striving for your own star. That, I will respect, and should you succeed in defeating me- I will be fine with that. (Also because Morgan long gave up on being understood, so she's not even trying with Mash, which is why I think it fucks that despite Morgan being a fucking brick wall, Mash still manages to know this girl better than most.)

Post-lb6, on Mash's side, this ship is a case of "this girl I used to love changed a fuckton, but also She's Still Here." On Morgan's side it's "I do not know who you are, but my body does remember you and it's fucking weird." And both these things are haunted by the ghost of "Oh christ we fucking killed each other. We can never go back to who we used to be. How do we build a new relationship after All This Shit? What if she forgives me? What if she doesn't?"

Additionally. Morgan is someone who fundamentally believes herself to be evil. That's why she's always like "ohh I'm a wretched witch I do this because I'm selfish teehee." It's a Sakura behavior, she's rationalizing the bad shit happening to her as "well I was evil anyways so I deserve it." Veering into headcanon territory now, but I think Morgan would see Mash as her total opposite, someone who embodies the good in this world- she's fucking fairy knight Galahad, the purest of the round table. So it's also cool to explore Morgan thinking she's unlovable struggling to understand why Mash would be interested in her. Possibly worried about corrupting Mash too, historically things have never turned out well for people close to Morgan.

Ok this is all my thoughts that have actual canon ground. Now back to making shit up. I think Mash should get to be fucking deranged about Morgan. Mash has lost MANY people since the beginning of the story, but that trauma is shared with Guda. Morgan's however is her trauma and hers alone she ain't got no one to relate. I think it would be a great way to showcase her character development, from someone who struggled to understand Mozart's "yeah humans suck but that's why I love them!" to someone who can be incredibly Not Fucking Normal in her grief. AND that means you get neat Beryl parallels as well. Mash sees her own behavior as something reminiscent of Beryl's, and feeling SO bad about it, but what is she supposed to do? She's lost so much so fucking much can't she just have something to hold onto for once? Something more tangible than a memory? Anyways I think Mash should get to mishandle Morgan's corpse SO fucking bad.

Anyways. Say whatever about lb6, but Morgan did successfully save one thing in Fairy Britain. She did successfully save Fairy Knight Galahad.