#I can’t speak for outside the USA however I have seen the

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

--

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

--

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

--

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!”  he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

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[ionlytalktodogs]

POV I am your intrusive thoughts about mobility aids:

Most CVS-like convenience stores have canes for around $20 or sometimes $25. You can try out all the different options, maybe they even have folding ones or different patterns. I got my first cane from CVS for 25 bucks and it has flamingoes on it. And maybe you’ll try it and and decide it’s not right for you but it can’t hurt to try right? Maybe they’ll have one in your favorite color. Yeah maybe you don’t need it all the time but what about that time you took a really long walk and had to lie down for three days afterward? Maybe you wouldn’t have had to lie down if you had a cane. A cane for 25 bucks from CVS or a similar convenience store near you. Stop saying you aren’t disabled and you don’t want to be ‘offensive’ to disabled people. Buy the cane. Just do it.

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 7

WARNINGS: absolutely nothing except Umbridge

Chapter 7 - Bill's Birthday Present

Dear Eric,

thank you for sending me a birthday present a week earlier – it was a nice surprise as always! Of course, Fred, George, and I already ate all the candy you sent me but that scarf is stunning and will come in handy as it’s currently snowing outside.

Your present got me all excited about my birthday. I know Fred and George are planning something because they are constantly giggling and whispering when they think I’m not paying attention. I will officially be an adult in the Muggle world. I am not sure what to do with that information but I can’t wait either way!

I admire you for having faith that our mother will stop pushing me to be more like you. You asked if she had a change of heart yet about the shop and the answer is no. She doesn’t want to hear about it and when I mentioned it when I was home for Christmas, her face got all screwed up and green as if she’s going to vomit.

I appreciate that you are trying to persuade her to give me a chance but since I have given up hope a long time ago, you don’t have to waste energy on it either.

Oh, and speaking about the shop! Fred and George think we might have finally found the right place! It’s in Diagon Alley, which is perfect if I say so myself because Diagon Alley doesn’t have a joke shop yet and I reckon that will be great for business.

I haven’t seen it yet. Fred and George went there during Christmas break. They said that it would need quite a lot of work but they think it’s going to pay off! We are going to go and talk to the owner during Easter break to arrange matters further. We don’t want to get too excited – we still have to graduate and pass our N.E.W.T.s. Mum would have my head if I don’t finish school, can you imagine!

I would like you to know that I am still keeping our family legacy of Filch pranking alive! As I told you before, he is the perfect test subject for our products and since we perfected the Screaming Yo-yo over the summer, the twins and I couldn’t resist throwing one into his office while he was asleep. I wish you could be there when he started screaming. He ran into the hallway and actually said to me that I was just like my brother – disobedient and good for nothing.

I think that might just have been the sweetest thing Mr. Filch has ever said to me! Can you believe he remembers you?

However, I wish I could say that Mr. Filch is our biggest concern these days. That Umbridge woman has completely lost her mind. DADA has never been so boring and we keep getting detention! But we have it easy, you should have seen what she’s done to Harry! She’s mental that one. Hermione told me that she made him write lines because he is lying that You-Know-Who is back.

Who would ever lie about something like that? The Ministry is losing it and I am glad that you are in the USA and not here to witness this nonsense.

Ms. Pink Lady Toad keeps creating rules that just don’t make any sense. We can barely whisper in the hallways now. A couple was snogging on a bench on the second floor the other day and she not only pulled them apart but gave them a month’s worth of detention. A MONTH!

Anyway, there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a reason I asked you to send me that advanced spellbook you used for your Auror training. Harry is recruiting people to start some sort of a defense class. Godric knows that Umbridge isn’t going to teach us anything and he is taking matters into his own hands!

Hermione made us these coins to know when our next meeting. Fred and George can’t wait and we all know it’s going to be better than any class.

I have to go now, I have DADA in 15 minutes and I have to send this letter to you before I go in case I die of boredom in that class.

Thank you again for the birthday present and for supporting me in what I want to do with my life – it means the world to me.

I miss you and know that I can’t wait to see you over the summer!

Love and a big hug, Theo

PS. I remembered that you mentioned that you have an annoying co-worker in one of your previous letters so I am sending you a bag of Invisibility Powder. It’s a product Freddie and I developed. You mix it in someone’s drink and their hair is going to turn invisible for 3 days making them look as if they were bald. Have fun with it and reminisce on your mischief days!

—

“Late again, Miss Cork.” Professor Umbridge said sluggishly when Theodora entered the classroom.

“I apologize, professor. I was in the Owlery, sending a letter.” Theodora bowed her head and went to sit next to George.

“A letter?” A hollow laugh escaped Umbridge’s mouth. “And who might you be writing to?”

“I think that is none of your business,” Fred said through his teeth.

“That’s professor to you, Mr. Weasley. I am Hogwarts High Inquisitor and I have the power to make it my business to know who the students are writing to.” The professor stepped closer to where Fred was sitting, her head slightly tilted to the side.

“I was wr-”

Theodora had nothing to hide so she just wanted to get the attention off her by telling Umbridge who the letter was for but George’s hand over her mouth stopped her.

“You don’t have to tell her anything,” George whispered to her.

“Oh, but she does.” Umbridge’s lips curved into an evil grin and Theodora knew what was coming. “Perhaps we should establish a new rule. No letters in or out without me knowing about them.”

“Are you mental?” Fred stood up.

“That's privacy invasion!” George followed.

“Sit down the both of you!” Umbridge glared at them until they did what they were told.

“She’s right to be concerned, you know.” Theodora turned to George, with a mischievous expression on her face.

She knew what she was about to say next will get her in detention but she didn’t care. She simply had no energy to listen to Umbridge trying to boss people around.

“Elaborate, Miss Cork.” Umbridge cleared her throat.

“I was writing a letter to one of my confidants in America. We are forming an alliance with them against the Dark Lord.” Theodora smirked.

If she wanted information that had nothing to do with her, might as well lie about it and make her furious.

“How dare you!” Umbridge turned as pink as the bow around her neck. “What is wrong with you students?” She furrowed her brows and started walking towards Theodora’s desk, slowly. “How many times do I have to say that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back?!”

“And how many times do we have to tell you that he is?” Fred rolled his eyes and slammed a book against his head.

All Gryffindors started to laugh, while Slytherins made faces of disgust and shock.

“That’s enough!” The professor hit the floor with a loud thump of her foot.

Silence filled the classroom.

“Would you like detention again, Mr. Weasley?”

“Gladly!” Fred hissed at her. “At least it won’t be as boring as this class!”

Umbridge and a few Slytherins gasped.

“A month, Mr. Weasley! Starting in this classroom, tonight at 7!” She said, shaking.

Fred shrugged his shoulders, put his book in his bag, glanced at George and Theodora, and started towards the door.

Exchanging one look, George and Theodora stood up as well and followed Fred.

“And where do you think you are all going?” Umbridge questioned them.

“You already gave detention to my brother, so I see no point for him to stick around and we always serve detention together so you’ll be seeing both of us tonight, professor,” Fred replied.

“And I am joining them because this class is as dull as they get and without Mr. and Mr. Weasley I might just die of boredom in your class. Honestly, professor, I fear for my life.” Theodora said sarcastically, making Fred and George giggle.

George put his arm around Theodora’s shoulders and without saying another word, they left the classroom, leaving professor Umbridge speechless and with her mouth opened.

—

“I still can’t believe you went after me,” George whispered to his two friends, the second Umbridge left the classroom during their detention.

“What else were we supposed to do, I hate that woman.” Theodora frowned.

“We have to come up with something and get her out of this school.” Fred thought out loud.

“That would do everyone a favor.” Theodora rubbed her chin. “But what?”

“I don’t know yet but it’s never too late to start brainstorming,” Fred smirked while the other two nodded in agreement.

“So, Theo,” George prodded her, “your birthday’s in a week. What are your plans?”

“I don’t have plans.” Theodora chuckled.

“Good.” Fred clapped. “I mean, whatever.”

“Right, as if I don’t know that you two are up to something.” Theodora lifted an eyebrow at her best friends.

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t.” George sent her a wink.

“18 is a big one! You’ll be able...you’ll...wait what are you allowed to do when you turn 18?” Fred asked puzzled as he couldn’t come up with a single thing.

“In the Wizarding world nothing much since we come of age at 17 but in the Muggle world she will finally be a grown-up.” George giggled.

“A grown-up? She will have to mature for that.” Fred joked.

Theodora pursed her lips playfully and smacked them both over the head, then joined them in a fit of laughter.

Their faces straightened and they went back to writing lines when they heard Umbridge coming back, pressing their lips together hard, not to continue laughing.

—

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fred sat down next to Theodora, almost making her spit out her porridge – startling her.

“The last time I checked it’s called eating?” Theodora blinked at him.

“I mean, running away from us like that. Don’t you think we don’t know what day it is today?” Fred explained his question.

“I didn’t run away.” Theodora laughed. “I woke up, saw that you two weren’t in the common room yet, and went down for breakfast.”

“Sounds like running to me, what do you think, Georgie?” Fred’s eyes turned from Theodora to his brother who was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” George said with a smug expression on his face.

“Then I would like to deeply, from the bottom of my heart, apologize to you,” Theodora said in a dramatic voice, placing her hands over her chest.

“Apology accepted.” Fred grinned.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” George stood up, climbed across the table, and sat on Theodora’s other side, “happy birthday, Theo.”

The twins kissed Theodora’s cheeks – one on each side – and hugged her.

“Thank you.” Theodora giggled with a hand over her mouth.

“You’ll get your present after the Quidditch practice,” Fred said excitedly.

“Please tell me, we are not pranking anyone today?” Theodora pleaded.

“Nothing of the sorts, we promise.” George smiled innocently.

Before Theodora could ask more about her present an owl dropped a letter in her lap. George got up and crawled under the table to sit back on the other side, while Fred sat a bit away from her so she could read the letter in private.

Theodora wondered who the letter could be from. She already received her gift and birthday letter from Eric. He was always afraid that it wouldn’t arrive in time so he sent it a week in advance every year.

She knew she couldn’t expect anything from her mother. It would be a miracle if she would even remember that it’s her daughter’s birthday. The last time she heard her mother say ‘happy birthday’ to her was when Eric was still at school.

She opened the envelope and took out the neatly folded piece of parchment. Before she could fully unfold it, she saw the name signed below the message. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened.

She folded the letter back up – without reading it – and put it back in its envelope. She never expected to get a letter from this person and she most certainly knew she can’t read its content in front of the twins.

The letter was from Bill.

“Who’s the letter from?” George asked upon seeing Theodora’s flustered expression.

“It’s...uhm...it’s from Eric.” She mumbled knowing they won’t ask further questions if it’s concerning him.

“Do you always blush when you get a letter from your brother? Because that’s concerning.” Fred raised his eyebrows at his best friend.

“No...I...” The red on Theodora’s cheeks deepened. “I think I just got my period.” She blurted out and stood up.

She couldn’t get out of the Great Hall fast enough. She knew that the twins won’t buy her lie about her getting her period. They knew when she was grumpy and need to give her space and that’s not happening for another 2 weeks.

She also couldn’t deny that the curiosity about why Bill sent her a letter was growing in her chest with each minute.

She hurried up the stairs to the second floor – where better to have a private moment than in Myrtle’s bathroom?

She double-checked if she was alone, besides sobbing Myrtle in the second bathroom stall.

She put the toilet lid down and sat on it. She took the letter out of the inner pocket of her robes and stared at the envelope, her hands shaking.

She would be lying if she said that she forgot all about Bill and the time they spent together during the summer. She was hoping she will stop thinking about him once she returned to Hogwarts but wasn’t so lucky – she missed him.

After that disastrous day of them being locked in the broom closet together, they didn’t say another word to each other until Bill’s departure to Egypt when they said an awkward goodbye.

Bill was mostly in his room and once Fred and George apologized to her for the 10th time for what they have done and she asked them to never talk to Bill about her again, she convinced them to work on their products even more than before so they barely left the room.

It was January now and even though she still sometimes couldn’t sleep – thinking about him – she was certain that Bill forgot she ever existed. The letter in her hands proved her wrong and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

She didn’t see much of the letter in the Great Hall but she could swear she saw the word birthday written down. She didn’t know that Bill knew when her birthday was.

She took a deep breath and took the parchment out of the envelope. She closed her eyes and unfolded the paper – perhaps that way she’ll get more courage to read it.

She opened one of her eyes, the other still closed, pretending she wasn’t dying to read what Bill wrote to her.

Dear Theodora,

I hope this letter arrives in time. If my calculations are correct, you should receive it with owl post in the morning on your special day.

I know this is short but a longer letter and a gift will be waiting for you on your bed after your Quidditch practice today.

Happy birthday, Theodora.

Bill

Theodora was staring at a letter as if it was a death threat – all color left her face and she forgot how to breathe. She can’t be reading this correctly, Bill didn’t just send her a letter telling her he has a gift for her?

She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, opened her eyes back up, and reread the letter 5 more times. She wasn’t losing her mind, this letter was real. Her chest was falling and rising fast, her heart drumming loudly against her ribcage.

She knew she wasn’t over him but the way she was feeling – the anticipation of seeing what Bill got her – proved just how strong her feelings still were.

Another deep breath.

She has to calm down. It’s just a letter and just a small gift. She can’t afford to overthink this. They became really good friends over the summer so he sent her a little something – as a friend. That’s all, so she has to calm down.

“Oh, a letter from a boy.”

Theodora jumped in the air, hearing a voice behind her.

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to read a letter behind someone’s shoulder, Myrtle?” Theodora said with a shaky voice. “What got you all agitated and annoyed?” Myrtle felt offended.

“Never you mind, Myrtle.” Theodora put the letter back in the envelope and put it inside her bag.

“Where are you going?” Myrtle questioned when Theodora exited the stall and headed toward the exit door.

“I have Quidditch practice.”

“But I thought we were going to talk about boys.” Myrtle cried.

“No, thank you.” Theodora tried not to look terrified of that idea and rushed out of the bathroom.

—

“Cork, what is it with you today! Don’t you know how to score!” Angelina Johnson shouted across the Quidditch pitch.

“Sorry, I’ll try harder!” Theodora yelled back and sighed.

She couldn’t concentrate at practice at all. She was mad with herself for not waiting to open Bill’s letter after she got back to her dormitory. All she could think about was the fact that he wrote to her, that he remembered it was her birthday and that lingering question in the back of her mind why...why did he send her a gift?

“Give her a break, Angie. It’s her birthday.” Fred flew to Angelina and sent her a wink.

“And she’s on her period.” George appeared on Angelina’s other side.

“You didn’t just tell me that, George.” Angelina pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before flying away from them.

“What? What did I say?” George turned to his brother.

“Girls.” Fred shrugged.

“Okay, team! Let’s try this again before we all become snowballs.” Angelina said to her teammates.

Theodora frowned and positioned herself next to Katie Bell, who was shaking on her broom. Playing Quidditch while it was snowing sucked. Theodora just wanted it to be over so she could go take a shower and crawl into her bed. She didn’t feel like celebrating her birthday at all. She hated that she couldn’t kill the curiosity in her head – the never-stopping question of what is waiting for her in her dormitory.

“You okay?” Fred whispered to Theodora once the practice was over.

“I just wasn’t feeling it and I don’t like flying in the snow. My fingers are freezing.” It wasn’t the whole truth but she wasn’t lying either.

“You’ll get warm soon enough.” George giggled.

“Okay, the practice is over. Are you going to tell me now what your big surprise is?” Theodora raised her eyebrows.

“Patience, oh, little one.” Fred patted her on the head.

“Just meet us in the common room in 10 minutes.” George tried to hide his grin but failed.

Theodora rolled her eyes and walked to the girl’s changing room. She took her time to change her clothes and she took the longest route back to the Gryffindor Tower, trying to deny herself the fact that she couldn’t wait to see what Bill got her. The twins said 10 minutes – she has to give them time to prepare whatever they have planned. This wasn’t about Bill at all – she lied to herself.

She stopped in front of the common room, the Fat Lady waiting for her to tell her the password.

Why was she making such a big deal out of this? It’s just a gift. She has to calm down.

After gathering the courage to say the password, the portrait hole opened and Theodora climbed inside.

“SURPRISE!”

She was so busy dusting her robes that she didn’t see a group of people standing in the middle of the common room. She jumped into the air, her hand on her chest as they scared the living ghost out of her.

A smile painted her face when she saw the familiar faces. Fred and George were standing on the sides, throwing confetti in the air. Ron, Harry, and Hermione smiling at her, holding birthday presents. Her three roommates were standing next to Ginny who had the biggest grin on her freckled face. Lee was singing happy birthday into a microphone and Angelina and Katie were waving two small Gryffindor flags.

Theodora didn’t know how to react. It was so nice that they threw her a little birthday party. Nobody has ever done that for her before. There was a table in the left corner with a punch bowl and cupcakes. Candles lit all around the room and a big Happy Birthday banner hanging from the ceiling.

After they all congratulated her and gave her the gifts, the crowd dispersed, and other Gryffindors joined the party. Some were drinking punch, others were eating cupcakes. A group decided to play Exploding Snap and most of the girls were giggling about something in front of the fireplace.

Theodora was leaning against a wall observing the guests of her party. She tried to enjoy it. She was so happy how it turned out and she was proud of the twins for pulling something like this off.

Her eyes escaped to her two best friends who were trying to sell Canary Cream to a third year, convincing him that it’s completely harmless, making Theodora shake her head and chuckle.

“Hi, Theo.”

She turned around to see Eddie, a boy in her year, stand next to her.

“I didn’t have a chance to wish you a happy birthday before.” He scratched the top of his head.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Theodora smiled at him.

“Well, happy birthday.” The boy said and hugged her awkwardly, despite Theodora’s extended hand – expecting a handshake.

“Thank you.”

“I...I wanted to ask you something and it’s okay if you say no,” Eddie mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Okay,” Theodora replied slowly.

“I kind of fancy you for a while now and...and I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime.” He blabbered.

“Oh.” Theodora breathed.

She didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth and didn’t know how to reply. She couldn’t deny that Eddie was extremely handsome – awkward but handsome. But she also couldn’t deny that she would rather be in her room, opening Bill’s present than talking to him which meant she wasn’t ready to move on.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m flattered but I am kind of getting over someone.” She decided not to lie to him.

“Oh, I understand.” Eddie smiled sheepishly, trying not to sound disappointed. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Happy birthday again.”

Theodora nodded and bestowed him with a gentle smile. He turned on his heels and walked away.

“What’s wrong, Theo?” Fred leaned on the wall next to her.

“Don’t you like our surprise?” George bowed his head.

“I love it!” Theodora exclaimed. “I’m just tired and I was just asked out.”

She told the twins everything and it was killing her that she couldn’t discuss Bill’s letter with them but at the same time, she knew that they would tease her and make her go to her dorm to open the gift at once and she wanted to stall for as long as she could.

“By Eddie McNeal?” George sounded impressed.

“So when’s the big date?” Fred made a kissy face.

“I turned him down.” Theodora sighed.

Maybe she did that too quickly. Perhaps she should’ve said yes to him – he could help her get over Bill.

“Why?” George asked, puzzled.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Theodora replied honestly.

“Want to dance then?” Fred stepped in front of her and offered her his hand.

Theodora laughed, pushed herself away from the wall, and decided to forget about the world and spend her birthday with her amazing two friends.

—

It was 2 in the morning when Theodora started walking up the stairs to her dormitory. She had the biggest smile plastered on her face. She couldn’t believe how much fun she had with all her friends. This was definitely a birthday to remember.

She yawned as she reached her room and couldn’t wait to go to sleep. It wasn’t until she saw a rose, a letter, and a package that looked like a wrapped book on her bed that she realized she had so much fun that she forgot about Bill’s gift.

Her roommates were already asleep, which meant she could open it in private but it didn’t make her any less nervous.

She decided to unwrap the package first – just to get it over with and to avoid reading the letter for another minute or so.

She let out a silent gasp when she saw that Bill got her a book about how to start your own business. The book was on her reading list but she simply didn’t find the time to go to a Muggle bookstore and buy it.

She told Bill about the book one night when they were stargazing and she couldn’t believe he listened to her so attentively that he remembered she wanted to get it.

She put the book on her nightstand, excited to read it, and turned her gaze to the letter next to the rose. She hated how her heart was beating faster and faster in the anticipation of finally reading it.

She broke the seal and took two pieces of parchment out – Bill was not joking about this letter being longer.

Dear Theodora,

I hope my gift reached your dormitory and is set on the right bed. I was thinking for the longest time about what to buy for you and then I remembered the book you so enthusiastically talked about one night when we were outside observing the sky.

Hopefully, you didn’t already get it for yourself otherwise this will be one lousy present.

I wanted to gift it to you, to show my support and admiration of just how brave I think you are for standing up for yourself against your mother, supporting my brothers, and embarking on this journey with them.

I was thinking of getting you a white rose – knowing it’s your favorite color – but the symbol of a white rose is innocence and you, striving to achieve your dreams is more daring than innocent. I am proud of you for knowing what you want and not letting anyone tell you otherwise.

I hate to admit that I pondered for the longest time which color to get for you. I decided to go with orange in the end. It’s far from ordinary and they aren’t as common. Besides its meaning – being a symbol of enthusiasm and passion – it reminded me very much of how I see you.

You are incredibly gifted and extraordinary and people like you are hard to come by. You are enthusiastic and passionate about what you want to become and I wanted to get you something to remind you of that.

I hope I didn’t cross any lines with my gift. The last thing I would want is to make you uncomfortable on your special day.

Happy birthday again, Theodora.

Sending you a birthday hug,

Bill

Theodora sat on her bed with her mouth open. Her eyes, shining with tears – her eyelids gently fluttering – moved from the letter to the rose, untouched on her bed.

She picked it up and slowly brought it closer to her face. She closed her eyes and took a whiff of it – its beautiful smell filling her lungs.

She pressed the rose to her heart and reread the letter one more time, her mind completely blank. She didn’t know what to think of the letter at all. She definitely didn’t expect it to say what it did.

They were just friends, he was proud of her as a friend and friends can give each other flowers too, right?

She couldn’t allow herself to think too much about it – there was nothing she could do about the letter except to reply. Should she reply? And if so, what would she write back?

She tried remembering what Charlie sent her this morning, the owl waking her up by tapping on her window with her beak. She was friends with Charlie but he didn’t get her flowers. His letter was sweet and to the point – telling her he misses having her around, wishing her a happy birthday. Along with the letter he sent her a colorful beanie which he knitted himself ‘to warm you up when hot chocolate can’t’ – he explained in his letter.

She shook her head, smelling the rose again. Bill’s letter was just as friendly as Charlie’s and that’s all it is to it.

She put the rose inside a glass she had on her nightstand and disappeared under the covers, clutching Bill’s letter in her hand. With the help of the light coming from her wand, she reread it two more times before going to sleep.

Who was she fooling, thinking she’ll be able to fall asleep. She reread Bill’s words so many times that she knew them by heart now. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and she couldn’t stop beating herself with the question if she should reply to him or not.

Two more hours have passed and she was getting annoyed with herself. She has never spent a sleepless night thinking about a boy before. She can’t let this get to her. It was just a birthday present and she’s going to prove it to herself!

She got up, walked to her desk, and sat down. She picked up her quill and a piece of parchment and started replying to Bill. She will send him an owl in the morning and when Bill won’t reply to her, she will know for certain that she is overthinking this whole situation.

Dear Bill,

the gift reached me as you planned and I am deeply touched by it. I can’t believe you remembered which book I was blabbering about over and over. I was certain you stopped listening the second I mentioned it was about business.

Don’t you worry, I didn’t have the time to buy it for myself so you spared me some time and nobody else got it for me since you were the only one I told about it. I know what I am going to be doing for the next week when I don’t study for N.E.W.T.s!

I would like to thank you – not only for the gift but for being so supportive of me and your brothers. I know it’s a tricky path we are walking on but I feel it in my heart that it’s the right one.

My mother didn’t even congratulate me on my birthday so with everything I told you last summer you can imagine how much your support means to me. It’s nice to know that you are appreciated and cheered on and you have done just that with your letter, the book, and the rose.

The rose. I reckon I never saw an orange one before and you’re right, it isn’t ordinary at all – it’s beautiful and it smells divine. I am thinking of casting a spell on it so it doesn’t wither away. It’s a nice reminder of why I am doing what I am and I can’t find the words to express myself how thankful I am for it.

I have to admit that your gift pleasantly surprised me and it was far from crossing any lines or making me uncomfortable. It was a nice conclusion to my special day.

Thank you for the birthday wishes and the very thoughtful gift – it left me speechless.

Returning the birthday hug,

Theodora

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

yesterday, i came out as transmasc to my mum, at first she tried to pretend she was supportive, then she got mad and said a lot of transphobic and hurtful things and said she wanted to keep it a secret until it goes away and when i was asleep she woke me up and said sorry and told me that she loves me no matter what and that this is my life and im the one who is living it so the most important thing is that im comfortable and happy, however she said she'll always call me by my deadname bc it's "a beautiful name" and she'd never be able to stop calling me that or some weird shit, i guess I should be happy that she is not mad and she told me she wants to help me but she told me a lot of things that traumatised me before I came out and now i can't trust her or my dad, im very confused bc im afraid of my parents and I feel guilty for not trusting them and idk how i am supposed to feel, they didn't hate me for being trans or pretend I never said anything but im afraid that they want to manipulate me and control everything i do in every aspect of my life and now that I've told them im afraid of losing my freedom to be me regardless of what they want me to be/ to do, im very confused bc even though it all went "good" i still feel the need to hide around them :( is this a common trans experience ? am i the only one who feels like this ?

Hi nonnie,

I'm sorry that your coming out to your parents hasn't been great. I know you say at the end that it was "good", I think from your reaction and feelings from it that it wasn't, especially since you can't trust right now that your parents will support you.

I can't speak for the whole trans community of course, but I do think that parents having confusing and contradictory reactions to their child coming out as trans isn't Uncommon. Most parents who are cishet never consider the possibility of having a trans child and so when their child does come out, it blindsides them and they don't know how to react. And they do say transphobic things that they've internalized from society even as they're saying they want to support you. This isn't to excuse them, because obviously it still hurts and leads to a lot of fear and confusion, and you are valid in feeling that.

For me, I initially tried coming out when I was in high school and got totally shut down by my parents - they told me it was okay I was gender nonconforming and not straight but they would never support me doing anything "medical" to my body, and were against me being seen as male. I ended up coming out 2-3 years later and they were much more supportive and had totally forgotten saying all that to me back then.

I also think it's pretty common for parents to need to earn the trust of their trans kids back, whether they realize it or not. Until they do start using the right name and pronouns, and helping you to see a gender therapist, etc. it's okay to be confused and wary about the type of support you may get from them.

I'm not sure how old you are or where you're from, but there may be some organizations or resources that you can give to your parents that may be able to help educate them. I'm American so I always recommend PFLAG which typically has both info and support groups for allies as they unlearn their queerphobia. There might be a similar organization in your area if you're not from the USA.

It's frustrating to have to wait and to deal with the microaggressions, but parents do learn and change their actions sometimes. I was lucky and my parents did. It sounds like your parents might as well but having to do that waiting to see if things change is really hard. I hope you have support outside of your parents as well, from friends and stuff.

Good luck in your transition & I hope things get better from here on out ❤

Wes

[daisyachain]

There’s a nuanced discussion to be had about the way asexual/aromantic behaviour is read as a combination of ‘queer,’ ‘deviant,’ and ‘acceptable’ by the cisheteronormative paradigm without calling aspecs straight lite or denying that it exists in a dimension separate from the gay-straight spectrum. ‘Same-sex’ and ‘opposite-sex’ will be used in some cases because the cisheteronormative paradigm we’re talking about (We Live In A Society) by definition doesn’t include trans people because it’s bad.

Descriptor 1 ‘queer’: people without known opposite-sex love interests are read as specifically gay in both history and fiction. Characters in fiction are queer-coded by showing a disinterest in the opposite sex as much as by showing interest in the same sex, especially in contexts where queerness is so marginalized as to be unspeakable in the mainstream (e.g. USA 1930-1990). Men without known female liaisons were usually suspected to be gay in 19th-20thC Anglo-American cultures (probably all Euro-related ones but I can’t speak to that literature and history). Women weren’t considered to be lesbian as much, but only because that cultural milieu couldn’t compute wlw until the 20th century. As soon as it could, the lesbian stereotype becomes ‘man-hater’ more than ‘woman-lover.’

Part of this is just sexism, but the parallels with the Confirmed Bachelor of earlier decades indicate that queerness manifests in two ways: failing to follow the cisheterosexual norm (birth -> childhood -> single youth -> heterosexual relationship) and following a path that diverges from it. Asexuality/aromanticism exists in a grey area here, it presses a ‘pause’ before the heterosexual evolution is complete. It can be interpreted within the heterosexual paradigm as heterosexual…BUT too immature/too busy/too distracted to think about/get involved in/want heterosexual relationships. However, the assumption is always that asexuality/aromanticism is failed or stunted heterosexuality, not a complete form of being. The workaholic, the trauma victim, the weirdo, the individual who is so ugly or undesirable that they can’t be viewed as human, and so they can’t be viewed as heterosexual. Asexuality/aromanticism neither confirms nor denies heterosexuality, and it also neither confirms nor denies being bi/gay. It’s unknown, unclassifiable, suspicious, odd, in a word, queer.

Descriptor 2 ‘deviant’: I don’t mean this in the ‘things a christian call you’ way but in the strict sense of ‘something that deviates from the norm.’ Parts of 21st century queer activism have focused on the similarity between heterosexual experiences and bi/gay experiences to build bridges. Attraction, romance, romantic sexual life partnership, the whole thing is the same except for the gender (relationships are no longer strictly opposite-gender). This is a way to build understanding, it got a bunch of cisgendered straights on side, etc. What it also does is obscure the ways queerness is different from cisheterosexuality. Where partnerships aren’t guaranteed to be reproductively viable, it’s difficult to build families solely based on biological descent. And in a community born outside of societal norms, then other societal norms are all up in the air. One thing that this rhetoric also excludes is asexuality/aromanticism. When gay/bi-straight alliance is based off of the common experience of monogamous romantic/sexual attraction and partnership (‘love’), then the leftovers outside of that common experience have negotiable humanity. Queerness of all sorts is marginalized/punished/reviled ofc, but as has been noted before, the most mainstream support of queerness is based off of ‘universal’ experiences that are decidedly not universal. In the old paradigm of heterosexuality and the small-but-mainstream paradigm of love-is-love, asexuality/aromanticism is a deviation from the acceptable narrative.

Descriptor 3 ‘acceptable’: in the same way that asexuality/aromanticism doesn’t fit into any of the mainstream conceptions of human life priorities, a lot of people don’t understand it. 19th century bourgeois accepted Boston Marriages because they didn’t understand how women could possibly desire lives that weren’t with men, they read the relationships as asexual/aromantic (not unacceptable) and also as subordinate to heterosexual marriage (not approved). Asexuality/aromanticism is seen as acceptable ONLY if the alternative is being gay/bi. Look on any dudebro discussion of gay-coded male characters, and they’ll immediately jump to describe them as asexual. If the character/ has any relationship with women, though, and the argument will be that they like tits, they can’t possibly be gay/bi. If you look at discussions of characters/people who could possibly be asexual/aromantic, they fall all over themselves to either insist they’re banging hot chicks (bc female characters aren’t allowed to even get as far as ace-coding, they must constantly be available) or to insult them (sometimes as a way to relate, projecting their own incelness on to some innocent cardboard cutout). Another place where you see mentions of asexuality (not aromanticism) in the mainstream is discussion of sterile/genetically abnormal people/characters. Clones, artificial humans, robots, aliens are fair game because sexuality is inherently tied to humanity. This, anything inhuman must be asexual. Rather than being good (heterosexual) or bad (gay/bi), asexuality/aromanticism is alien. Real people can’t possibly understand asexuality/aromanticism, which means it a) can’t be judged, b) must be a failure to achieve humanity, c) must be native to inhumans.

[rwbyremnants]

WARNING: This chapter contains use of a couple of racist terms for Italian-Americans and Chinese-Americans by a particularly bigoted character; no offense is intended toward the readers and the words used do not reflect the views of the author, but rather the historically accurate attitudes of the 1950s era in the USA. Please be advised that you may wish to skip this chapter if you prefer to avoid terms like those.

Well I knew writing would take up most of last month... sorry about that. I'm gonna try to do better about posting from now on. Hope you guys are having a fun hot girl summer~

=Chapter 38

Before long, Kali did come by to wake them up, and was almost alarmed that the girls were already up and chattering with each other. Though they quieted quickly at being commanded to get ready for school, knowing doing anything else would probably get them in even hotter water than before.

But Kali's eyes remained shrewd on Blake the entire morning, and seemed to be reading Weiss like a book. She knew. That would have surprised her before the past month of insanity, but by now she fully appreciated that Kali Belladonna was nobody's fool. She just had to hope the woman would leave the situation up to them instead of butting in.

And she did… sort of.

“Weiss,” she said as they moved toward Blake's motorcycle to head to class. She stayed back.

“Yes, Kali?”

“I trust you… slept well.” Her eyes were still discerning, stabbing into her as if she had x-ray vision.

“I did. Thank you for asking.” When the silence was growing stale, Weiss prayed that her cheeks weren’t pinkening as she asked, “Was there something else?

Kali shook her head, a half-smile hitched into place. “No. Just be careful. As you've been learning, this world of ours… has a lot of hidden pitfalls. Don't make a mistake that you'll wind up regretting. But I'm probably worried about nothing, right? You're a smart girl. Just don't forget to be smart.”

With those ominous parting words, Blake's mother went back inside and Weiss went back to Blake herself.

“What was that about?” she asked while handing over her spare helmet.

“Oh, nothing, I suppose. But I think your mother was trying to warn me not to make out with you.”

“Mm.” Only after their helmets were on and they were both seated on the bike did she burst out, “WHAT?!”

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

That day at school was very strange for Weiss. As if she had woken up on the wrong side of the bed - which, in a manner of speaking, she did.

As had become usual, Yang spent a lot of time making eyes at her in the hallway, finding excuses to touch her. They didn’t have actual classes together, but the rest of the day found her slipping a hand down below the hem of her skirt and teasing her thighs before drawing it away, making sure nobody would notice. That was normal - though it had lessened during certain points where one or neither of them were in the mood, or were in the hospital. After their fun on the lakeshore, Yang was back at the top of her game, and it was almost more relief than exhilarating.

Now, however… it wasn’t just Yang. Though she didn’t get nearly so bold, Blake was also winking at her occasionally, finding an excuse to whisper something into her ear that probably could have been said out loud without anyone caring. She never did it in front of Yang, but it still happened. Weiss didn’t respond as favourably to her, but neither could she seem to completely ignore this new attention.

She felt like a cheap floozy. It wasn’t fair to herself, and she knew it mentally, but her emotions were another story. So what if Blake let off a little steam? Technically, she didn’t even help her directly; just encouraged her to take care of herself. But she knew her more prudish friends might not see it that way, even if it was all that had transpired.

After classes, Yang took her to their spot at the abandoned depot. They did kiss for a little while, but it wasn’t quite the same; Weiss felt that morning hanging over her like a dark cloud, threatening to crack open and pour down on the whole situation.

“I’m sorry.”

To Weiss’s surprise, she hadn’t been the one to say it. She pulled back to ask, “For what?”

“There’s just so much happening, y’know? With your dad, and…” Yang sighed and reached up to caress over Weiss’s neck. “It’s dumb, but I keep thinking about Ruby and Qrow.”

“No, it’s not dumb. But what have you been thinking about them?”

“That it’s all my fault we got so… so- I mean, I shoulda known they didn’t hate me. Seems pretty obvious now. But I let myself get all wrapped up in my mom’s anger, and…”

Her girlfriend looked so stricken that Weiss couldn’t help leaning up to kiss her forehead. “You didn’t know. Weren’t you a little girl when this all happened? It is dumb to expect a child to understand what’s going on when she’s already dealing with losing her mom. Or step-mom.”

“Yeah.” She nodded very faintly at first, then a little stronger. “You’re right. I only wish I knew then what I know now, I guess.”

“Mmhmm. Was there something else? You still seem…”

“Well, yeah, there are a couple of things. Like your dad, and you and your mom having to shack up with Mrs. B., and Cinder still not being back in class… it’s just so much. Feels like we can’t catch a break lately.”

Guilt fluttered in her stomach. And here she had been about to add to Yang’s worries by asking about that “free pass” to try making out with a few other girls. As if she even needed to, really! “I’m sorry. So much of that is my fault, in a way. Your life just got more complicated when I came along.”

“Complicated in good ways, too,” she said with a half-smile. But Weiss didn’t return it, so she tilted her head a little. “Hey.”

“Huh?”

“Something’s off with you. Did you and Blake have a fight? She’s been acting weird, too. Pretty much… all day. And I saw you two whispering a lot.” Weiss didn’t even have to answer; the way she looked away biting her lip was enough. “Nnnnnot a fight. Got it.”

“Yang-”

“It’s okay, everything’s boss. I’m hep.” But she didn’t look it. Weiss didn’t think she had ever seen Yang so confused and out of sorts before. She wasn’t angry, or scared; just highly confused and maybe a little sad.

“This isn’t what you think,” she tried, knowing that only made it sound worse. “Blake… she just has been really lonely lately. Nothing happened between us, exactly. But I did…” She felt like she would be sick. “I did help her a little.” Her face was burning, definitely, and maybe even her ears and neck. “Mostly I just watched… and told her she didn’t have to stop. Th-that was all.”

Yang forced a smile that only hurt both of them. “Didn’t I just say I’m fine? And… I never said you had to pin me, and I haven’t pinned you. Neither of us is wearing handcuffs, neither of us is committed. You can do whatever you want with her.”

“But I don’t! I want to be with you, Yang! She just… like I said, she’s been so lonely, and I helped her out a tiny bit. That all. And trust me, I’m not the one she wants to be with - but I can’t go into detail.” Yang didn’t answer. “Do you trust me?”

She still didn’t answer - right away. But when she glanced up and saw Weiss looking as if she had just been shot, she relented. “Of course I trust you! Sorry, I'm sorry, Princess. I just… haven't had to think about…” She swallowed hard and reached up to grasp Weiss's shoulders hard. “I've never had a steady girl before. Ever. So this is all brand new! But I think… maybe I really would be alright if you and Blake-”

Weiss's hand came up and pressed very gently into Yang's mouth. “Don't say that right now. Okay? Just, um, just think about it for a while and get back to me later. You have a lot on your plate, and… I didn't even know how to bring this up to you. It seems cruel when you're already dealing with so much. But it's way less important to me than making sure you and I are hunky dory.”

Before Yang even nodded, she was already kissing the fingertips. Weiss felt her knees go weak and was glad for the old couch they were seated on. The lips kneaded more and more against her fingers until they ran up to take the middle one inside, tongue swirling around it teasingly. It didn't completely distract her from their conversation… but went a long way toward doing so.

“We're hunky dory all the time,” the Dragon finally told her without a hint of hesitation. “And… I know how we feel about each other. I've just never had something I could lose like this before.”

“The only way you'll lose me is if you don't want me around anymore. That's it. Even if things get rough, and my father tries to take me away, and a million other girls want to turn my head, I promise I will find my way back to you. Bet on it, Xiao Long.”

Nothing could have kept the two apart after that.

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

A little while later and they were heading back to the Belladonna house, physically sated even if they were still a little emotionally frayed. Once they parked and started to dismount Yang's motorcycle, she reached out to stall Weiss from heading up to the house.

“This thing that Blake's dealing with… whatever it's about. Or whoever. Should I tease her to make it seem less big, or is it too big even for teasing? Just don't want to make the wrong move here.”

Weiss had to fight down a surge of panic. “Nooooo, no, don't bring that up, at all! Please? You're her best friend and she would be really embarrassed if you found out from somebody else. And if you hint that you know part of it, she might accidentally say the rest and then we’ll all feel awful.”

“Right, okay: I don't know anything. I'll be cool.” A little grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “But I'm glad you're looking out for her, even if it's frustrating not knowing what the hell is going on. She's a good friend.”

Privately, Weiss cringed on Blake's behalf at that last line. And because they were slightly dancing around the notion of opening their relationship up to outside parties. But there was no time to lament such things - especially with Yang standing right there, focused on the situation.

The instant Blake looked up from setting the dining room table and saw the two of them there, her face went through a few quick transformations. Anger, annoyance, sadness, embarrassment. Jealousy in spades. But there was a more pure form of longing there, as well. And that quickly, it all vanished, replaced with an honest gratitude to see her two friends.

“Hey, girls. Mom says it’s almost ready - cacciatore tonight.”

“Great!” Yang glanced at Weiss, her eyes full of an intense question: ‘What is going on with her?!’ Clearly, now that she knew to look for it, she had seen the same transformations Weiss had. But she kept the question in her eyes only, and even that faded away before she turned back to Blake. “Um… so… what’s new?”

Weiss wanted to groan, but it would have been a dead giveaway. Blake blinked and said, “Huh?”

“Seems like I haven’t talked to you much lately is all.”

“Nothing, really. I mean, my news is the same news as your news. By now, you know about Weiss’s dad, right?”

“Yeah! Ain’t that kooky?!”

The rest of the dinner was taken up with chatting about Weiss’s father, and other Dragons goings-on. Kali turned out to have one or two ideas for a new base of operations, even if they weren’t currently workable; she had been ruminating on the problem. The solution just might take time.

“Blake, finish your beets. They’re good for you.”

“Mom, I’m enjoying the chicken,” she sighed weakly. “Don’t ruin it with those red tiddlywinks.”

Weiss may have been the only one to catch the knowing glint in Kali’s eyes as she said in the same casual, matronly tone, “You looked a bit flushed this morning. I’m worried about your blood pressure.”

Instantly, Blake was choking on the bit of beet she had reluctantly nibbled. Yang was quick to go pound her on the back, even though Kali was there nearly as quickly. Weiss was at the far end of the table with her mother, so though they both rose to their feet that was as far as they got before Blake was breathing normally again.

“You aren’t supposed to breathe them!” Kali was chuckling gently, still rubbing up and down her daughter’s back. “Calm down, I only said you looked like you were a bit… strained.”

“MOM!” Blake gagged in annoyance. Everyone laughed, and she looked even more mortified.

“Alright, alright,” Weiss finally said with a wave of her hand. “Lay off her.”

“You laughed, too, Princess!”

Yang smirked and folded her arms over her chest. “Hey, I thought I was the only one that got to call her that.”

“Since when?” Weiss asked.

“Since forever!” When both Blake and Weiss looked at her curiously, Yang laughed again, going back to her chair. “I'm kidding; I don't actually mind, you know.”

“Oh…” Plopping back down, Weiss picked up her fork again. “Good. But don't worry, I still like hearing it from you the best.”

This time, the retching sounds from Blake were feigned, but her mother still turned back to her as if it were a real crisis. That started the laughter again, especially from Willow who saw much of her own parenting reflected in the other mother - even if she had taken an extended leave of absence, thanks to her husband and hundreds of bottles of wine.

Following dinner and dessert, they were relaxing in the living room in front of the TV when they heard a car pull into the drive. “I’m not expecting anyone,” Kali said.

“Me, either.” Blake glanced around at everyone else, then back to her mother. “Is Salem back? Already?”

It certainly wasn’t Salem. When they gathered on the porch to see what was going on, they found themselves staring at none other than Jacques Schnee, leaning on a diamond-topped cane that he had certainly never needed before with his hair and mustache a little too perfect. He was standing in front of an actual squad car, with two actual policemen in the front.

“Porco cane!” Kali hissed under her breath, eyes narrowed. But she made no other sudden movement.

“So this is where you two have squirreled yourselves away,” he sighed in a disinterested voice. “How very… pedestrian. Is it even up to code? I wonder if I could have it condemned…”

“What do you want here, Jacques?” Willow said in as even a tone as she could manage. It wasn’t fiery, and it wasn’t firm. She was terrified that he had found them - as was Weiss. Though she was content to stay in the background of the encounter for as long as possible.

“Why, honey, I thought that would be obvious. I wish to reunite my family.” His smile was genial, like he thought he was Santa Claus. “Whitley misses the both of you.”

While she was trying to come up with a reply for that, Weiss found her voice. “We have a family. Right here.”

“Oh, is that what you call this? Such a random collection of rabble - a couple of black-haired dago greasers and some chink girl? That passes for family to you now? My, my… how the mighty have fallen.”

Kali nearly lost it. In fact, she took a single step forward, but Blake managed to hold her back at the last second. The gentle pressure on her arms reminded her of their situation, of the cop car waiting just behind the enemy, and she brought her temper back under control.

“You see?” he laughed harshly, gesturing with a hand. “Animals that can scarcely control themselves. Come home, Willow. We’ll sort this out later.��

By now, the Schnee matriarch’s anger was starting to overtake her fear, even if marginally. “Come home? So… s-so you can spank me as if I were a spoiled little girl? We have had this discussion, Jacques. I will never sleep under the same roof as you again.”

He only wasted a few seconds digesting her words, glaring daggers at the woman he had claimed to love when he married her. Then he grinned darkly. “Never say never, my dear.” His fingers snapped toward the car, and one of the officers exited to stand next to him. “Fetch the bitch.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Yang drawled out, cracking her knuckles. “She ain’t done anything wrong. You can’t just go sticking people in handcuffs for no reason.”

“Ah, but they can, and they will. Who’s going to stop us? You? If you resist, we will claim that you were shot in ‘self defense’ - and who will the judge believe?” His hand pressed into the center of his chest. “A respected pillar of this community, running for the office of mayor? Or an unfaithful wife who runs away from her problems and into the waiting arms of a handful of thugs? None of you have a leg to stand on.”

“You’re right,” Kali announced, eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. “But first, you would all have to make it back to the station in one piece.”

Then her gun was aimed at Jacques. Weiss hadn’t even noticed her produce it - and neither officer had theirs out yet. The one already out of the car went for his piece-

BANG! His hat went flying from atop his head, spinning off over the car and toward the ditch that lay between the Belladonna’s front yard and the street.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said in a dangerous tone. “I actually don’t want to kill a police officer. But that doesn’t mean I won’t if given no alternative.”

“You are committing a serious error in judgement, miss,” the officer said, speaking for the first time. “We could have you locked up on counts of-”

“Spare me. What you are doing is immoral and illegal, even if no one else ever finds out about it. And you will have to live with that for the rest of your life. Now…” Her eyebrow rose as she lowered the barrel, just enough to be noticeable from a distance. “Do you want to spend the rest of that life being able to make love to your wife, or not?”

That definitely got him to gulp, and he raised his hands up over his head. By this time, Blake reappeared - when had she left?! - and had another pistol aimed at the two men, sliding along to the end of the porch. Jacques rolled his eyes skyward.

“You expect me to believe this pipsqueak knows how to use that? We ought to run you all in for harbouring too many dangerous weapons and putting them into the hands of children.”

“I’m not as good as my mom,” Blake admitted easily. “I might miss the cop and hit you instead. Now, take out that piece nice and slow - two fingers. That’s it… toss it on the grass. Cock it before you do and I’ll take you off here and now.”

She hated to admit it, but Weiss was impressed. The Belladonnas didn’t mess around. Once he had disposed of the gun, she nodded sideways at Yang, who dropped down and crawled over to pick it up by the trigger guard with her pinky. Once backed out of firing range of the two women packing heat, she stood again, holding the gun the same way.

“Isn’t she a great shot, too?” Jacques teased irritably.

“I don’t believe in guns,” Yang snapped. “I’d rather have a clean, honest fight any day. The other guy - he can toss us his gun, too. And the keys.”

They obeyed. Jacques looked hopping mad, but he didn’t protest as Yang caught two guns with the same pinky, then circled around the squad car with a wide berth before she unlocked the trunk. At this point, Jacques tensed as if he was going to try something stupid, but Blake cocked her gun and he went still.

“You wouldn’t. You might hit the blonde.”

“We’ve all been shot before,” Yang answered for her. “Or stabbed. But you know all about that, right?” She locked the trunk again with the guns inside, then circled around to the passenger’s side. “Pop that glove box, will ya?” He did, and she tossed the bullets inside. “Good boy.”

“Now,” Kali announced as Yang rejoined the others, tossing the keys in through the driver’s side window. “You’re going to get back into that car, and vacate my property. And don’t bother seeing if this firearm is licensed; it is. I have a legal right to bear arms under the constitution. You don’t want anyone to know what you were doing here any more than we wanted it to happen, so you won’t push this matter. Get back in that car and go away. And if you ever set foot on my property again without a warrant, or an actual legitimate police reason, I won’t be so welcoming.”

“Listen to them!” Jacques snarled. “As if they have the right of w-”

“And if you ever come here again, you will meet your death, future Mayor,” she snarled, and Weiss felt her blood run cold at the level of fury she had reached - especially considering she was smiling, fierce and vicious. “I told you that you shouldn’t thank me. But I doubt you even remember that now.”

His white eyebrows twitched together. “Remember what?”

“GO.”

“What about my hat?” the officer asked.

“You’ll get a new one.”

That seemed to be that. However, Jacques couldn’t seem to resist a parting comment. “You’ll regret this, Willow. Mark my words. You’ll rue the day you ever crossed me. I made you, and I can unmake you. Watch your back.” Then he sneered at Weiss. “That goes for you, too, Junior Hooker.”

Yang pounded one fist into her open palm to emphasise that they were wearing out their welcome yet further. They sped away.

“I can’t believe that,” Willow breathed in shock. “What he called my Weiss… his daughter…”

But Weiss could barely spare any thought for that. She was still shaking from having heard a gun go off so close to her ears, and aimed in the general direction of a family member - no matter how terrible he turned out to be. It had taken a lot of concentration to keep from wetting herself again. Maybe she had some kind of bladder problem. Passing a hand over her eyes, she turned to blink at the others, seeing her shock only truly reflected in her mother’s face.

“You’re not a hooker,” Blake provided instantly, and Yang nodded firmly. Kali merely looked drained from the confrontation, but satisfied with the results.

“I… I know I’m not.”

“Yang,” Kali finally said with a sigh, “would you… be a dear and fetch that hat for us? We’ll need to burn the evidence that they were ever here, and I fired at an officer of the law. Then we need to hide Blake’s piece again; just because my gun is licensed doesn’t mean the other one is.”

They got to work. As they went about trying to erase all indication that their pleasant evening had been interrupted, Weiss reflected that her father had accomplished exactly what he meant to do: he had brought a family closer together. Now, all five of them acted and moved as one, making sure to occasionally touch each other on the shoulders or flash a smile of reassurance.

Her real family was stronger than any illusion of one.

[kendrixtermina]

The “Genocidal Edelgard” Shallowtake

I was not going to make a post about this because it’s most likely futile and not going to convince anyone nor do I believe in dinifying the purity police with attention, but maybe it will let some ppl know that they dont have to let themselves be shamed for liking the wrong video game character

Whatever might have been the case in the distant past when Nemesis was around, by the “present day” the Nabateans are not at all some commonly oppressed stereotyped minority - the setting is chock full of characters that fit that bill a lot better like Dedue or Cyril. Characters that are ordinary humans not magic dragons. 

And even that is more founded on general purpose xenophobia than from the specific, relatively new early modernity construct of racism. (the dedue situation probably comes the closest)

Sure, Seteth and Flays have to hide from their old enemy the Agarthans, I see how some might find that relatable etc. but most of the population isn’t aware that they exist at all. They hold high status positions, are worshipped by the local religion and Rhea all but rules the entire continent (and says so herself to Byleth in that speech about how she was just “ruling this wayward country in your stead”, “you” being Sothis) - though that is mostly Rhea’s doing of which Seteth and Flayn are relatively innocent. 

The interviews pretty much confirmed that the Nabateans constituted the local aristocracy and that many humans genuinely saw the Elites as liberators - though there was definitely also an element of ppl going around killing random Nabateans to gain superpowers, not to speak of Nemesis’ very obvious very unambiguous mass murder. Not wanting to be ruled over by foreign powers is understandable, though obviously killing them all down to the last civilian was just flat out evil - its certainly not a simple situation, we can all agtree Nemesis & the Agarthans were evil but there is no clear defined good guy. 

There are historical conflicts you could compare this to, perhaps some conflicts in Africa or the middle eastwhere different groups took turns being the ruling class after the latest war,  but it’s not at all like the modern USA or early modernity colonialism, and forcing every real or, in this case, imagined scenario inherently dependent of fantasy elements, into this one framework from the present or near past isn’t conductive to understanding at all. 

And in the present day, by the time Edelgard is alive, we are talking about three specific people that she has good reason to dislike individually. Not any sort of group at all. 

She calls Rhea a cruel beast because that’s all she’s ever seen Rhea to be. She’s the shadow tyrant who rules her world, who created the crappy world Edelgard grew up in. It’s no different Cubans thiking badly of the castros after suffering through famines - or, no need for such extreme examples really, ppl call their least favorite politicians monsters all the time. 

She’s wrong to assume that Seteth & Flayn are wholly on board with this, but on the other hand, it’s not at all a far-fetched assumption to make: They hold high positions in the church though they ostensimbly just appreared out of nowhere one day. Do you have to be an evil bigot to assume that the brother and right hand man to the tyrannical god-queen is condoning & supporting her actions?

The truth is of course that underneath her pseudo-parental facade Rhea is sort of a scared girl, very lonely, very afraid, and ashamed, in a shallow, childish way, for “breaking the rules” just because they are rules. She says she can’t trust anyone, that she feels lonely & isolated... and while no one can blame her for distrusting humans after the slaughter of her people, but the reason she can’t trust Seteth is that she’s keeping her bad deeds secret from him. He wasn’t there the whole time, he just showed up a few decades earlier. 

She sees herself only as filling out for Sothis and doesn’t quite grasp that she’s in charge, very much a follower personality bent on stasis & regularity. 

Is Edelgard obliged to try & unravel the complex psychology of the tyrant who rules her home to correctly deduce why she would deceive even her own family? By all intents and purposes, Edelgard is the one getting rid of an oppressive government that doesn’t let ordinary humans let a say at all. A government where ppl of others faiths and nationalities are typically oppressed unless they work directly for the church.

It’s like having a disdain for, say, Ivanka Trump. She holds a high position in her father’s administration despite having no obvious qualifications, she appears to be profiting & making bank from her father’s atrocities, she certainly hasn’t done anything to stop him or disavow him the way that, say, her cousin Mary did - if you suffered under Trump’s regime you’d be very justified in assuming that Invanka is probably a bad person.

Flayn only looks young (She might not if we saw her in other clothes). I mean, Kronya could badly impersonate a schoolgirl. At the very least they’ve supported the regime by refusing to question their own side and they show some however benevolent belief that it is their duty to “guide” the people. Leaving her to the Agarthans is certainly questionable, but no more so than doing it with Rhea herself, under the assumption that she’s guilty and that it’s a sacrifice that will prevent larger chaos. The agarthans had their plan long before they created Edelgard as we know her, and she couldn’t stop their plots all on her own. 

You could say that it’s callous, distasteful or a deal breaker - as the death knight is her direct subordinate & she makes a personal appearance in mask, I would argue that she definitely knew & sanctioned the kidnapping - but she’s no more callous towards Flayn than towards anybody else. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean they’re evil, or that they deserve to die.... and Edelgard would agree with me.  She doing all this to prevent death – flipping the lever on the trolley problem so it crushes one person instead of five so to speak. She always gives her enemies the chance to surrender, unwilling allies the chance to leave, and jails enemies whenever leaving them alive wouldn‘t lead to further death… even the ones she has the most personal reason to hate, like the PM.

As servants of the church who have chosed to back her enemies, she’ll certainly kill them if she has to, but not any more than any other enemy. At no point anywhere in the story does she say anything like that they need to die on principle. Nowhere at all. Indeed there is much evidence to the contrary.

The church paints her as being completely against the religion or even wanting to set herself up as a satanic godess cause it‘s good politics & they don‘t get what she‘s doing – to an extent her own credibility & messaging is compromised by her secretive and at times unscrupulous actions, no one said she was perfect. In truth all she wants is to have the church out of politics, you know, what we have in nearly every modern country outside the vatican and saudi arabia.

You can absolutely let Flayn & Seteth go on CF and there is no word, no fuss about it anywhere. No „make sure to kill em all“ which would certainly be there if the narrative wanted to portray Edelgard that way. It requires the mediation of Byleth as someone they would talk to & not immediately assume the worst of, but, they see the church as the embodymet of all that is good & fighting its enemies as their sacred duty so of course it wouldn‘t be possible for just anyone to talk them down. It‘s framed as Flayn letting Byleth go cause they saved her life once, even if we know from behind the screen that she wasn‘t going to survive a fight to the death against the player-controlled faction.

Heck, even when it comes to Rhea, the one most guilty that Edelgard has the most reason to loathe, she‘s ultimately surprisingly gracious. She gives her the option to surrender – and this is not a lie, she discusses this with Byleth in a lecture question, and seriously ponders the possibility. Here Byleth gets a range of options like „stab her in the back“ and „keep the church under imperial control“ but you know which one nets you the support points? „Strip her of her authority so she can‘t interfere in politics“. She wasn‘t gonna mess with the religious folks & their religion at all, just make it so it‘s separate from government. Rhea could even keep being pope, if she could be satisfied without having complete supreme authority (and ripping her precious artifact out of Byleth‘s chest) – even when she puts her down she‘s not 100% without pity, telling her that „Your duty is done“ (the translators mucked this up)

Couldn‘t be any further from „lets kill them all on principle“.

What really annoys me is how ppl go and twist everything Edelgard says out of context to ascribe a motive to her that just isn’t there.

Common examples:

„If you have Flayn or Seteth fight her she‘ll say they need to die because they‘re nabateans“

Actually what she says is this: „You are a child of the godess. You must not have power over the people!“ Not getting to be privileges rulers anymore =/= being opressed. Stay out of politics =/= Diediedie. Also, this is from the VW/SS boss fight, where they have literally come to get her in her own capital.

„Linhard & Leonie don‘t tell her & hubert about Indech, probably cause he expects that she‘ll go & kill him„

What he actually says is: „Lake Teutates is a place that concerns the saints of the Church of Seiros. It may become bothersome should the two of them find out...“

„It may be bothersome“ as in, „we might get in trouble“, for doing the possibly very inadvisable thing of waltzing into what could possibly be an enemy location to satisfy personal curiosity. If it‘s something related to her agenda she might take over and Linny wouldn‘t get to investigate as he pleases – at very most you might construe it as Linny fearing that they‘ll be accused of consorting with the enemy, but „bothersome“ suggest possible annoyance not imminent murder.

The whole scene ends with Linhard telling Byleth to fill her in later. Doesn‘t sound at all like he expects her to go back with a harpoon.

„She said Claude isn‘t fit to be a ruler cause he‘s a foreigner“

What she actually says: „I understand your ideals are not so far removed from my own. But without knowledge of Fodlan‘s history, I cannot entrust its rule to you“

Now without the additional contexts that Claude won‘t get until after the fight, it might easily feel a bit like the former with the raw spots he‘d have from his backstory, but what she means is that he‘s ignorant of the Agarthan threat – which he is. Edelgard is all for making peace with Almyra and sees fostering isolationism & prejudice as one of the many faults of the church.

Once Claude basically kills Edelgard for information, he winds up having to take care of the storm she had been holding back. But to his credit, he DID „finish the job“ and get the info. But he didn‘t have it at that point.

And I don‘t mean any of this in the least bit as a diss of Claude - He is the smartest character, so there would be no plot if he got easy access to the info.  At this point, they both think they can probably do better, and more importantly, both their backstories have made them so that they won‘t let down their guard far enough to cooperate in this scenario.

That‘s also why the outcome in CF is contingent on Byleth‘s choice. - You‘d sort of have to trust that he will also act so as to minimize casualties.

Very disingenious since many players wouldn‘t necessarily trigger these dialogues.

I guess because Adrestia got a vaguely central-european aesthetic (partially; all the countries are hodgepodge mashups and there’s more than enough spanish or ancient roman vibes there) and central europe existed only for those 12 years of tyranny I guess, even though many other places have had similar BS happening, including the US that delights in making craptons of movies about their faraway victory because their governments haven’t added much of value to the planet as of late. -.- 

Faerghus (vaguely french/ russian - not at all places where nothing bad happened ever) has actually annexed some territory from their northern neighbors in the recent past, not to speak of the whole Duscur atrocity - but no one seems to go around laying that at Dimitri’s feet, because it would be nonsensical - he was a child at the time and as an individual he is super against it and champions a policy of reconcilliation if he gets to rule. after all, there wouldn’t be much of a plot if the characters inherited three perfect faultless problem free countries. 

Edelgard, too, is completely against the previous administration under Duke Aegir (which was in charge during the Bridgid war). She deposed him and is plotting to do the same with Arundel once she can politically afford to do so. For all that one can understand why she would chose the other path  (depending on how much she knows about what Edelgard’s doing and why) it makes all the sense in the world for Petra to support her on CF or if not recruited, because again, she got rid of that previous administration. 

[365days365movies]

March 17, 2021: Darby O’Gill and the Little People (1959) (Part One)

Éirinn go Brách! Ireland forever!

Who doesn’t love St. Patrick’s Day? Other than snakes, I guess. Although, for the record, that’s never made any sense. There have NEVER been snakes in Ireland, like, at any point in the geological record. And yeah, I know, “that’s because St. Patrick chased them all away”. Yeah, OK, whatever, hand me a green beer (or a Shamrock Shake; either works for me, gonna be honest).

This is the day where everybody in the USA is an honorary Irish person. And this is coming from a Black dude with distant Scottish ancestry, don’t ask about that last part THAT’S WHERE THE DARK HISTORY IS

...Slavery. ANYHOOOOOOOOOO

Every major city in the USA has a St. Paddy’s Day celebration. Chicago colors its river green, NYC has a massive parade, Boston gets FUCKING DESTROYED every March 17. It’s an American tradition. And you may be wondering why I’m talking about the USA, instead of talking about Ireland. Well, uh...I’m not Irish. And I don’t know enough about their SPD rituals to comment accurately, so I’ll erring on the side of caution, to be honest with you.

Plus, given today’s movie, I actually think it’s somewhat fitting that I’m talking about the American perspective of Irish folklore and traditions. So, with that said...leprechauns.

In Irish folklore, the leipreachán is...barely a thing in early mythology. Yeah, the first appearance of the leprechaun was in a medieval story called Echtra Fergus mac Léti, where a man named Fergus is nearly dragged into the water by three leprechauns, who are water spirits, and tricks them into giving him three wishes. So, uh...WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?

Well, whatever it was, the leprechaun eventually transformed into the green-wearing, gold-hoarding, shoe-fixing, prankster sprite that we know it as. In Irish folklore, it’s one of many MANY different spirits and supernatural beings, but it’s one of the only ones that made it over to the USA. And BOY DID IT. Other than Lucky from Lucky Charms, you’ve also got Warwick Davis’ horror movie version.

There’s also the mascot for the Boston Celtics and the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, not to mention the less-than-great borderline racist association with Irish people by assholes. Honestly, it’s not even borderline. But despite that, it’s still an internationally well-known part of Irish folklore. And part of that renown lies in today’s film, Darby O’Gill and the Little People.

I really should watch more live-action Disney movies one of these years, but this was always going to be the first. A friend of mine always talks about this movie, alongside the film The Happiest Milionaire. You know who you are. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. ALLIGATORS.

But OK, let’s get into it! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin in Rathcullen, a small town in Ireland. A young woman named Katie O’Gill (Janet Munro) is visited by an old woman, the widow Sheelah Sugrue (Estelle Winwood), who impresses upon her the need to get married, as she’s a young woman, and that’s all you can do as a young woman in this time period, other than cleaning house and raising children, of course.

Katie’s a catch, and the talk of the boys of the town, but hasn’t chosen anyone in particular to be wooed by. As they’re having this conversation, the household is visited by Lord Fitzpatrick (Walter Fitzgerald), who’s come to look for her father, the eponymous Darby O’Gill (Albert Sharpe). She goes to get him, as he’s at the inn telling stories. Fitzpatrick walks around the estate, which is his. Darby and Katie simply mind it. When Fitzpatrick comes in, he speaks with widow Sugrue, who IMMEDIATELY BAD TALKS AND BETRAYS THE O’GILLS, in order to promote her own son! FUCK OFF MS. SUGRUE YOU’RE A BAD FRIEND

Her son, Pony Sugrue (Kieron Moore) is a strapping young man, a known brawer, and...well, kind of a dick. In the pub, Darby’s telling stories of a leprechaun that he met once, and Pony mocks him for it. The bartender tells him off, and tells Darby to continue his story. And the story turns into a flashback soon enough.

On a dark night, on a mist-covered mountain, Darby is speaking with the king of the leprechauns, Brian O’Connor (Jimmy O’Dea), having trapped him there with naught but his gaze. He forces Brian to give him three wishes, and he’ll let him go. The wishes are first for his health, then for a large crop of potatoes, and finally, of course, a pot of gold.

However, King Brian asks for his fourth wish, and claims to be a generous man. He asks for three additional pots of gold for three friends. However, this was a trick, as making a fourth wish undoes the rest of them all together. This ends the story, as King Brian does a merry jig and all that. One of the friends that Darby wished for says that he’d never accept the gold, as it comes from the devil himself. Darby says that he’d donate it to the church in his stead. 

But that’s a little awkward, considering the presence of Father Murphy (Denis O’Dea), who’s actually there to get some help in carrying a new bell for the parish. Pony offers his services, but only for cash. Kind of a dick, that Pony. Murphy changes tactics, and kinda manipuates Darby into doing it. But just then, Katie comes in to tell Darby of Fitzpatrick’s visit, and hauls him away from the pub. On the Fitzpatrick estate, the Lord gives a tour to the replacement for Darby, one Michael McBride (Sean Conn...noooo...it can’t be.)

HOLY SHIT IT’S SEAN CONNERY! He was in a Disney movie? Holy shit! And this is before James Bond! So, before playing an English spy, he played an Irishman...and he’s Scottish. Dude, did Connery ever actually play a Scotsman in his career, what the hell?

OK, so Darby and Katie are basically getting kicked out, with Michael set to replace them. After some negotiation of retirement terms, Darby agrees, but doesn’t tell Katie right away. She was born in the house that they’re now being forced to move out of, in about two weeks time. In that time, Michael will stay with them to smooth the transition fully. That night, after dinner, Michael pleads with Darby to tell Katie, but he’s still putting it off for now. Darby goes to his horse, Cleopatra, and heads up a mountain, back to where King Brian was first seen. Cleopatra runs away, though, and Darby goes up the mountain alone. When he catches up to Cleopatra, she’s already at the summit, next to a well glowing gold. And then, uh...she starts to glow.

Cleopatra rears up, and Darby falls to the bottom of the well, which is where he’s found by the eponymous “Little People”, who take him to King Brian himself. There’s a dance going on in front of a large golden throne, with all of the little people in attendance, and King Brian playing a giant bagpipe on the throne itself.

Darby is welcomed in by the king, and allowed to survey the various treasures collected by the little people. The throne, fun fact, once belonged to the throne of King Fergus, from the original myth that originated the leprechaun! Very cool! However, that’s tempered by the new information that he can never leave. This was apparently a favor by King Brian, for spreading the stories of the leprechauns throughout the town, and bringing them fame. This was all meant to prevent Katie from finding out about Darby losing his job.

Seeing that Darby’s upset, King Brian offers him a chance to play a Stradivarius violin, which Darby reluctantly accepts. He plays “The Fox Chase”, a lively tune that’s genuinely quite fun and pleasant to listen to. The little people agree, and dance along with the music as Darby plays. The whole sequence is actually quite impressive and fun. Then, Darby shouts “Gone away”, prompting the lot of them to go on a fox chase on their own tiny horses, in a VERY impressive shot! Seriously, it’s very cool, considering that this is from 1959! 

The little folk, tricked by Darby’s music, leave the lair of Knockasheega on the mountain, leaving Darby alone. He attempts to steal some of their gold, then takes off out of the mountain, escaping the lair. But holes in his pockets cause all the gold to fall out, leaving him with nothing. He finds Cleopatra waiting outside for him, then the two head home once and for all.

Fully expecting Brian to find him again, he prepares for his arrival. Sure enough, King Brian shows up, angry that Darby seems to have spurned his good favor. But Darby, ever the suave talker himself, once again tricks King Brian into drinking an alcohol called poitín, which is also called Mountain Dew. Which is amazing.

As Darby and King Brian Do the Dew, Darby gets King Brian to participate in a singing and rhyming game, called the Wishing Song. And honestly...I’m having a really good fucking time with this movie. It’s folksy, and very heartwarming in tone for whatever reason. I’m just having a real good time with it, y’know?

So, Darby gets Brian good and sozzled, distracting him entirely until the morning. See, in the daylight, leprechauns lose their powers entirely. Darby, decisively with the upper hand as well, uses his cat Ginger to trap Brian. Trapped once again, Brian agrees to grant Darby three more wishes. Having anticipated this, Darby uses his first to make King Brian stay with him while he decides on his wishes. And, to fully ensure that the little king goes nowhere, Darby produces a sack, which he puts the leprechaun in, before shoving him into a chest in the barn.

 Great place to pause, so we can start the second half! See you there!

[break-slash]

[ENG Translation] The Past and The Future

This is one of my favorite Puzzleshipping fancomics on Pixiv. Translated with permission from the artist. Please do not scanlate it unless you have asked permission to the artist directly.

[Page 2]

Egypt, The Valley of The Kings

Driver: We will soon arrive at the place

Driver: Cars can’t enter from this point, so you’ll have to walk by yourself.

Driver: Mister, why don’t you hire yourself a professional guide?

Driver: Getting an extra explanation surely will be a bonus!

[Page 3]

Yuugi: Thank you, but I know more about this place than you probably think.

Driver: You sure about that?

Driver: Good luck, then!

-Mobile Message-

Grandpa: Yuugi, have you arrived safe and sound?

Yuugi: I just got off from the car. I think I’ll be walking for a while.

Grandpa: It’s already around this time; shouldn’t it be night in Egypt? Be careful out there.

[Page 4]

Yuugi: Don’t be so worried, it’s not my first time anyway.

Grandpa: Haha, true that. You’ve always visited that place once in a year since that time. How long will you be there this time?

Yuugi: We’ll see about that. I’ll have to go to the US too, so I might not return to Japan for a while. There are no city lights around here, so the night sky looks so beautiful. I’ll send you the photos later.

Grandpa: The night sky, huh.

Grandpa: Oh, the news did say that there will be a rare astronomical phenomenon today – a huge scale of meteor shower, it seems.

Yuugi: Meteor shower?

Grandpa: Aren’t you a lucky one? You can see it from Egypt, but I don’t think I can from Japan.

Grandpa: Why don’t you make a wish? Something for my store’s business thriving would be great, for example.

[Page 5]

Yuugi: A wish, huh.

Yuugi: From a long time ago…

Yuugi: Mine has always been…

[Page 7]

Yuugi: My… my other self…?

Atem: Who would you be?

[Page 8]

Atem: Abnormalities in the sky?

Isis: Indeed.

[Page 9]

Isis: The image I saw through my Millenium Necklace.

Isis: It was the time before your coronation. The stars start raining down from the sky.

Atem: What omen does that lead to?

Isis: I apologize; I could only see those images I have described to you.

Isis: Somehow what happens afterwards feels so far away, and I could only see darkness from the range I could perceive through these eyes.

Isis: However, this abnormality would surely cause a disruption to a certain time and space, so please be careful.

[Page 11]

Atem: This must be the “the rain of stars” Isis mentioned before.

Yuugi: Why don’t you warm yourself with this cup of hot chocolate?

[Page 12]

-Cultural exchange-

Yuugi: So, you are a prince from Egypt…

Yuugi: And you will take over the Pharaoh position in a few days?

Atem: Yes.

Yuugi: I still get reception, it seems.

[Page 13]

Atem: That thing you are currently holding.

Atem: It seems to be shining all the time – what exactly is it?

Yuugi: This? It’s called a “smartphone”. It’s something that lets you contact people far away from you.

Atem: Is that your spirit? Does it have a special ability for long-distance conversation?

Yuugi: Um, no… it has nothing to do with spirits. Simply put, this is just a tool.

Atem: Whatever, that thing doesn’t really concern me.

Atem: Tell me who exactly you are.

[Page 14]

Yuugi: I’m Mutou Yuugi

Atem: That’s all? You only gave me a name?

Yuugi: Erm…

Yuugi: I know you all too well, but I’m not so sure anymore how to introduce myself to you.

Yuugi: Then, do you mind me asking how I should call you?

Yuugi: There’s no longer a figure as “Pharaoh” in this era after all.

[Page 15]

Yuugi: This is a future 3000 years later from your era.

Atem: 3000 years...

Yuugi: You don’t seem to be so surprised.

Atem: I have been warned beforehand.

Atem: But I didn’t expect it to be 3000 years…

[Page 16]

Atem: The way I see it, the world 3000 years later doesn’t seem to change much, so I thought I shouldn’t get so surprised.

Yuugi: That’s because we are in a historic ruin. Nobody except archaeologists or researchers come to this place.

Atem: A ruin?

Yuugi: If you appeared first in a city instead, I bet you would not have thought like that.

Yuugi: What will you do from now?

Atem: My people are all waiting for my coronation ceremony.

Atem: This place is not where I come from, so…

Atem: I must go back to Egypt 3000 years before!

[Page 17]

Yuugi: Let me help you!

Yuugi: I mean, you couldn’t possibly stay in this ruin until we find out how to return you back, right? I can act as your guide in this era, and we can look for the way together as well!

Yuugi: The world has changed very vastly in 3000 years! You’ll get lost if you don’t have anyone to guide you around here!

Atem: You’re too close.

Yuugi: Ah! Sorry about that! I got myself carried away…

Atem: Never mind, it wasn’t unpleasant or anything. I was just not used to it.

Atem: Speaking of which, it did feel weird. This was my first time meeting you, but I feel a sense of familiarity coming from you.

[Page 18]

Atem: Since you said there is no Pharaoh at this era… “Atem”

Atem: You may call me with that name.

Yuugi: Ah!

Yuugi: The area of the meteor shower is getting wider!

Yuugi: It is said that you can only see this large scale of meteor shower once in a thousand years!

[Page 19]

Atem: Wait, if this “rain of stars” exists in a future 3000 years later, it means I have not experienced the “omen” of my era yet!

Yuugi: There’s a call from Mokuba.

Mokuba: Yuugi!

Mokuba: There’s an announcement from the US Block!

Yuugi: Really? It’s been decided?

Mokuba: I’ve told you to be standby on your device and keep a contact since these past few days, haven’t I?

Mokuba: Tell me your location later. I’ll send someone to pick you up.

Mokuba: Get adjusted with jet lag as soon as possible too. It’d be troublesome for us, the organizers, if the King of Duelist doesn’t get enough sleep during the duel itself.

[Page 20]

Atem: Oh, this thing can speak too?

Yuugi: Uwaaaah!

Mokuba: Hm? Are you still with somebody else?

Yuugi: It’s my friend! I took him along to watch the stars!

Yuugi: It’s someone unrelated to the tournament, so I’ll continue our talk!

Yuugi: If Atem gets seen, things would get messy.

Mokuba: Oh, I see. I saw the news reporting about the rare astronomical phenomenon in Egypt's sky today.

Yuugi: Is there something else I need to keep in mind?

Mokuba: As the head of the tournament’s executive committee, I should stay neutral, but don’t you dare lose before your match with my brother!

Yuugi: Okay, I got it, Mokuba!

Mokuba: That’s all from me then. Do you need something else?

[Page 21]

Atem: How rude…

Atem: But I’m not annoyed

Yuugi: Ah, Mokuba, there is something I want you to do for me.

The USA

[Page 22]

Seto: Are you finished sending the notice to the duelists, Mokuba?

Mokuba: Yes! I’ve confirmed it with everyone! That Yuugi is in Egypt right now, by the way.

Seto: That place again, huh.

Mokuba: Something’s off, though.

Seto: Hm?

Mokuba: Yuugi asked me to change his hotel room to double bed all of the sudden. Does he have a friend that close from Egypt?

Seto: As long as he isn’t late to the tournament, let him be.

Mokuba: As always, Brother doesn’t care about anything else than dueling, huh.

Mokuba: He isn’t wrong, though. The King of Duelist’s personal relationship is not in our Kaiba Corporation’s jurisdiction.

Mokuba: Alright, registration confirmed!

[Page 23]

Isono: Mr. Mutou, we are sent by the KC to pick you up.

Yuugi: Thank you as always. Have you prepared the clothing I asked for?

Isono: Yes, I’ve put it on the seat.

Isono: And who is this person might be…?

Yuugi: He’s a friend of mine who performed on a stage called “Pharaoh” just now.

Yuugi: He’s here to accompany me.

[Page 24]

Yuugi: This is a “helicopter”, one type of vehicle.

Yuugi: It can fly and take us through the sky.

Yuugi: Interesting, isn’t it?

Atem: There are a lot of spirits with flying skills. I use it quite often.

[Page 25]

Yuugi: Of course you do!

Yuugi: I expect nothing less from my other self. He’s not afraid of anything!

Meanwhile, inside the Prince’s mind

Atem: Vehicle…

Atem: It neither looks like a spirit nor a living being. Is that something human created? How do they make it? I question this world even more now.

Isono: Mr. Mutou, we will depart soon!

Yuugi: Ah, he’s calling for us.

Yuugi: Let’s go!

[Page 26]

Yuugi: I’ll explain about the current common knowledge in our way.

Yuugi: I think you’ll find it interesting.

Atem: I should have… pulled my hand away…

[Page 28]

Phone Screen: Ishizu, there’s something I’d like to consult with. It’s about the Nameless Pharaoh. I’ll explain the details after the tournament…

Yuugi: Millenium Puzzle…

[Page 29]

Yuugi: I thought I’d never see it again.

Yuugi: Hehe, it’s my first time seeing my other self’s face when sleeping.

Yuugi: He didn’t sleep at all last night, so he must have been tired.

Yuugi: I wonder if he’s dreaming of something…

[Page 30]

Atem: What’s this? This dream feels like I’m watching from someone’s point of view.

[Page 31]

Atem: Yuugi…

Yuugi: Why is Yuugi in my dream?

[Page 32]

Atem: Me?

Yuugi: Atem!

[Page 33]

Yuugi: Did you have a bad dream?

Atem: No…

Atem: It’s definitely on that man’s neck…

Atem: Was the Millenium Puzzle trying to tell me something?

Atem: What is with this pressured feeling?

Yuugi: We’ve arrived at our destination. The helicopter is landing down.

[Page 34]

Atem: This is what the world 3000 years later looks like…

[Page 35]

Yuugi: It suits you!

Atem: So, the outside is the city? Why is this country so different compared to Egypt? This really surprises me.

Yuugi: Hehe, the current Egypt actually looks like this too, you know.

Atem: This is the future world even Isis could not predict…

Atem: Do you mind if we go outside?

Yuugi: Well, I still have time before the tournament starts.

[Page 36]

Atem: How prosper everything has become! I can’t believe there are so many people here.

Yuugi: Haha, the world is currently populated by 7 billion people after all.

Atem: 7 billion?!

Atem: I’m amazed with the reign of this country’s king.

Yuugi: How should I explain that the monarchy system isn’t used here...?

[Page 37]

Yuugi: Here!

Yuugi: Ice cream!

Yuugi: Try it out!

[Page 38]

Yuugi: Back then, we were only able to eat one person’s portion.

Atem: It’s a taste I’ve never eaten before!

Yuugi: The ice cream will melt, so be careful not to leave any marks on your face.

Yuugi: This feels like a date…

Atem: About that… you have something on here/this spot.

Yuugi: Just when I wanted to show off my proper adult self to my other self!

Yuugi: By the way, what were you seeing before?

Yuugi: “Duel Monsters”!

[Page 39]

Atem: I thought everything is unknown to me ever since I came to this era, but there are things I am still familiar with.

Atem: If I was not mistaken, this spirit is Mahaad’s… but something is a bit different.

Yuugi: This must be the deck introduction during my debut.

[Page 40]

Atem: This sense of familiarity feels weird. I’m sure I didn’t know anything about this person at all before.

Yuugi: It’s been a while since we talked about “Dark Magician” together. It brings back memories.

Atem: Together?

Atem: Da…?

Atem: It should have been called as “The Magician of Illusion”…

Atem: Does the name change as well?

Atem: I wonder what these characters mean though. They have a weird shape…

Yuugi: Do you mean the content of the magazine?

Yuugi: This must be an article about me. Reading it firsthand is a little bit embarrassing…

Atem: I wonder how Mahaad’s spirit managed to evolve into a stronger being like this…

Atem: He surely would not have thought I would know about this before him!

Atem: Now I am curious about the other spirits’ well-being in the era.

Atem: I need to confirm it with my own two eyes.

[Page 41]

Atem: Are there temples around here? Or anyone with a skill of controlling the slab of the spirits?

Atem: Take me to them!

Yuugi: About that…

Kid 1: I summon “Koumori Dragon”!

[Page 42]

Atem: Why does the monster appear in the city? Where are the soldiers?!

Atem: Furthermore, the controller is…

Atem: A child!?

Yuugi: It’s alright, Atem. This era’s Duel Monsters is different from yours. They have no destructive power. It has become a worldwide game that everyone can enjoy. That’s all.

Atem: What… did you say? A game?

Kid 1: I attack you directly with “Koumori Dragon”!

[Page 43]

Kid 2: No! My life decreases so much!

Kid 1: Hehe, just admit that I am stronger already!

Kid 2: The match has just begun!

Atem: Even if he is hit…

Yuugi: This is the current era’s duel.

Yuugi: As long as you understand the rule, you can play it immediately and feel the fun of it.

Yuugi: Everyone can become a worthy Duelist!

[Page 44]

Atem: Training.

Atem: Talent.

Atem: Burden on one’s body.

Atem: In here, everyone can…

Atem: What is this?

Yuugi: The tournament’s ticket.

Yuugi: Come and check out while you can.

Yuugi: It’ll be easier to understand how this era’s duel looks like if you see the real deal.

Yuugi: I humbly invite you!

[Page 45]

*Bought on his way*

Atem: It’s the same arrow. This must have been the main entrance.

Atem: It took some time to look for the way around.

Yuugi: We can’t go together from here.

Yuugi: Let me draw a map for you!

Atem: He sure has some guts to leave me by myself.

[Page 46]

Atem: It sure is crowded.

Atem: Are these people Duelists, too?

Atem: Everyone seems to be having fun…

[Page 47]

Person A: That’s Mutou Yuugi.

Person B: The champion who hasn’t lost a single match.

Person C: It’s the King of Duelist!

Mokuba: Yuugi!

Yuugi: Mokuba-kun!

Mokuba: This is the tournament chart for the semifinals. I’ve brought it for you.

Yuugi: Thank you. I got too absorbed in adjusting my deck.

Mokuba: Are you nervous?

Yuugi: A little bit, yeah.

Mokuba: And I thought you have gotten used to it from some time ago.

Yuugi: This one is special.

[Page 48]

Mokuba: It is, for sure!

Mokuba: That must be because Brother will be joining as one of the Duelists this time!

*The Strongest Rival*

Mokuba: It’s about time for you to hand over the King of Duelist title!

Yuugi: That’s one of the causes, but…

Yuugi: This will definitely be a harsh battle…

Yuugi: Let us fight together once more, my old comrades!

[Page 51]

This is the scenery the Prince saw as he entered the venue.

Yuugi, who is standing in the middle of countless spotlight and among the cheers from the audience.

His figure emits off such dazzling lights.

[Page 52]

Atem: He shines just like Ra…

[Page 53]

Atem: I have seen this kind of battle before.

Atem: But it was a match I did with Father just to confirm the training result of the Priests. Nothing more.

Atem: However, in here…

Atem: Both the audience and the Duelists – everyone is having fun from the bottom of their heart.

[Page 54]

Atem: Furthermore, this might be because of the atmosphere, but…

Atem: It makes me fired up as well!

[Page 55]

Commentator: He manages to erase one more Monster from the field.

Commentator: Duelist Yuugi – his Life Point remains so little as he stumbles from his place. This might be the last turn that determines this duel’s result!

Yuugi: I set one card. I end my turn.

Commentator: Look at that! He ended his turn without leaving any wall Monster on the field! Duelist Yuugi is in trouble!

Atem: Yuugi…

Audience: King of Duelist…

Audience: King of Duelist!

[Page 56]

Judai: Hang in there! King of Duelist!

Judai: Come on. The flow of the match changed just after I went to the toilet!

Atem: King of… Duelist?

[Page 57]

Judai: Mister, you are standing over there…

Judai: But you don’t know about the King of Duelist?

Atem: Yuugi is a king? Don’t tell me he’s the ruler of this place?

Judai: Ruler? What’s that?

Judai: King of Duelist is someone who stands on the top of every Duelist out there, and currently Mr. Yuugi is the strongest man in this world!

Commentator: Duelist Yuugi is currently defending himself from the tumultuous attacks from his opponent! Will he be able to prevent the special effects of these troublesome monsters the opponent controls?!

Atem: The strongest man?

Opponent: Mutou Yuugi, it seems the winner has been decided.

Opponent: I’ll make sure to work hard for your part, too.

Judai: Mr. Yuugi has always won since his debut, after all!

[Page 58]

Opponent: Direct attack to the player!

Judai: No matter how strong the opponent is, no matter how bad the circumstances, Mr. Yuugi never gives up!

Commentator: Is this the end for the King of Duelist?!

Judai: He is the Duelist I respect the most!

[Page 59]

Yuugi: Reverse card, open!

Yuugi: I activate its effect! I Special Summon a Monster!

Yuugi: Appear before me, my strongest combination who fights together!

[Page 60]

Yuugi: Battle!

[Page 61]

Commentator: Splendid! Truly amazing! What a terrifying trap combination activated just in time! It’s the legendary Magician Pair!

Commentator: Here comes the comeback! Duelist Yuugi obtains his victory once more!

Judai: See that!

Judai: Isn’t he awesome?!

[Page 62]

Judai: Wow! The King of Duelist is staring at us/looking here!

Atem: His radiance is dazzling, indeed.

[Page 63]

Judai: Man, I’m tired!

Judai: The match made my throat dry!

Judai: Duels are truly the best! Putting things to an end with your strongest rival fires me up the most! (?)

Judai: The cheers from the audience even surpasses the mic!

Judai: Mister, do you drink juice? Let me treat you!

Atem: Oh, what an interesting item…

Judai: A bumpkin?

[Page 64]

Interviewer: Next, we will interview the duelists that are participating in this tournament!

Seto: Regarding the tournament, I, Kaiba…

Atem: That Kaiba person; what is he actually?

Judai: Oh, he’s Yuugi’s rival, and the executive committee of this tournament.

Judai: He debuted before Yuugi, and is a strong Duelist himself.

Judai: I’ve collected the data about his deck, too!

Atem: So Mutou Yuugi is a famous person?

Judai: You must be a person from the countryside if you don’t know about Yuugi!

Judai: When he was 16 years old, Yuugi defeated Kaiba in his first duel and got noticed by the public. He became well-known during Duelist Kingdom afterwards. He later became the undefeated duelist in every public duel he participated. Truly the invincible champion!

Judai: Let me tell you that I have all sets of the DVDs featuring his public matches!

Atem: D…V… D?

[Page 65]

Judai: But later on, Yuugi’s dueling style changed all of the sudden, and nobody has ever seen his old style ever since.

Judai: There’s a rumor that the King of Duelist back then was actually another Yuugi.

Judai: Doesn’t it sound ridiculous?

Atem: The other Yuugi!

Atem: Was that ‘Yuugi’ strong as well?

Judai: Of course he was!

Judai: He obtained the “King of Duelist” title during that time, after all!

Judai: That was Yuugi, you know! The legendary, unquestionable phantom Duelist!

[Page 66]

Judai: One day I want to have a fun duel with Yuugi someday!

Atem: I understand that Yuugi is not a regular person, but I did not know he was this famous…

Judai: Mister, you really are a weird one, you know. You have the King of Duelist’s merchandise, but you don’t know anything about him.

Judai: More importantly, whether it’s the past or the present

Judai: Without doubt, Yuugi is strong!

Atem: Then, the other Yuugi is…

Judai’s friend: Ah, it’s him! That’s where he has been!

Judai’s friend: Judai, the signing event will start soon!

Judai: Got it! I’m going!

Judai: Mister, why don’t you go with us?

Atem: No, I still have to meet someone after this.

[Page 67]

Judai: Well, that’s a shame.

Judai: If you’re really interested in him, you could’ve asked the person directly!

Judai: Well then, I’m going!

Atem: Good bye.

[Page 68]

Judai: Wha…

[Page 69]

Judai’s friend: Judai!

Judai: That’s…

[Page 70]

Yuugi: Atem!

Yuugi: Too much signing wrecks my wrist!

Yuugi: Sorry for being late. There are more people than I expected.

Atem: Aren’t you a famous one? That kind of last-minute strategy – I can’t believe you pulled it off.

Yuugi: Really? That means a lot to me!

Yuugi: So, how was it?

Atem: I’m surprised.

Atem: I know most of the figures from your deck, particularly those two Monster cards!

[Page 71]

Atem: Those cards, “Dark Magician” and “Dark Magician Girl” – their combination effect is way more amazing than I expected!

Atem: I didn’t know you can even pair them with another Spell card! Truly interesting!

Atem: They are actually my friends, but the ones I know are not that strong yet.

Yuugi: You’ve understood the vocabularies used for duel this far?

Atem: I am one hell of a fast learner!

Atem: A few days ago, my priest predicted that I would transcend space-time due to a certain meteor shower. I kept thinking about its meaning until this moment.

Atem: When I saw them in a distant future I couldn’t have expected before, I couldn’t help but want to talk with them right at this moment.

Yuugi: The person who bears the Millenium Necklace can even predict the events happening 3000 years later?

Atem: No, she only said that it would happen before my coronation ceremony.

Atem: And the first meteor shower that I saw was the one that appeared at the night we first met.

[Page 72]

Yuugi: Don’t tell me – does it mean that you will be able to see the meteor shower once more sometime in the future

Yuugi: And that meteor shower will become the key to this mystery?

Atem: This might be one of the clues! Isis did say that the abnormality in the astronomical phenomenon caused the disruption in time and space!

Yuugi: If we are talking about space-time disruption, that means what you experienced is something similar to a wormhole! You must have felt the entrance to the current era at that time!

Atem: What’s a “wormhole”?

Yuugi: I don’t really understand either…

Yuugi: But I’m glad.

Yuugi: I’ve consulted about this to someone who’s an expert on this topic.

Atem: I wonder why this era of all periods, though.

[Page 73]

Atem: If I didn’t experience it myself, I probably wouldn’t be able to imagine it. I still don’t know how I should explain all of this to the Priests.

Atem: In Egypt, controlling the spirits is one difficult task. Only people with royal family blood or those with sublime knowledge who are able to do it.

Atem: Moreover, the basis of “being able to see the shape of the spirits” can only be done after one experienced harsh training in several years.

Atem: However, in this place, even kids can control the spirits and have duels at their will. This era is too mysterious.

[Page 74]

Yuugi: To be frank, a Pharaoh who can do magic is more mysterious to us.

Atem: A Pharaoh who can use magic is a given! It is a sacred skill given to me since my birth, so it should be obvious!

Atem: If I could not do it, how would I be able to protect my people?!

Atem: But here, everyone is a warrior.

Atem: Should they face someone strong, they have no need to cower in fear!

Atem: No wonder this era does not need a Pharaoh!

Atem: When I was a child, I made a promise with my friend that I would create a world where everyone is treated equally. That is why I go through countless training to make it come true.

Atem: However, when my father passed away, I was starting to question it.  

[Page 75]

Atem: My father was born during the war, but he raised me while maintaining Egypt’s peace.

Atem: When I inherited the reign, I wondered if I could maintain Egypt’s prosperity for a long time just like my father did.

Atem: Would I be able to welcome the world I dreamed of with my people together? What kind of world would it be?

Atem: Afterwards, I came to this era, and after seeing the things happening in here, I finally understand.

Atem: This era is precisely the shortcut that leads to the road of the future I’ve always been looking for! That is why I came here!

Atem: The form of that ideal Egypt is starting to burst into my mind!

[Page 76]

Atem: I see!

Atem: This is the future!

Atem: There must be a record about me….

[Page 77]

Atem: It’s the first time

Atem: Yuugi avoided looking at me.

[Page 78]

Atem: Oh well!

Atem: Life wouldn’t be so interesting if we know about the future already.

Yuugi: Atem…

Man: Ah, look at that guy…

Woman: That’s Mutou Yuugi!

Man: The King of Duelist!

Woman: Wow!

Man: Please take a photo with me!

Person A: You guys in the behind, don’t push!

Person B: You’re stepping on others, you know!?

Person C: Get out of my way!

[Page 79]

Atem: Let’s escape!

Yuugi: Uwah!

Atem: Ah…

Atem: I’m tired…

[Page 80]

Atem: Your believers are very passionate, huh.

Yuugi: They are not believers. They’re just fellow fans who love duels just like I do.

Atem: What is this “fellow fans” thing?

Yuugi: Such curiosity!

Yuugi: “Fellow fans” means that our interests or the things we like are the same. In a word, we’re comrades!

Atem: Does it mean we can be called as “fellow fans” too?

Yuugi: Eh?

Atem: I have interest in “Duel Monsters”.

Atem: Would you mind teaching me?

Yuugi: Of course!

Yuugi: I just happen to have another deck with me!

Yuugi: That time, I really did wish for something…

[Page 81]

Yuugi: Right now, I’m so happy it brings me to tears!

[Page 82]

Atem: Oddly, everything feels so familiar.

Atem: This is a deck Yuugi gave to me, but

Atem: It feels like a deck with cards I would definitely choose if I were to make one.

Atem: Mana…

Atem: Mahaad…

[Page 83]

Yuugi: Are you ready?

Atem: Come at me!

Yuugi and Atem: Duel!

[Page 85]

Atem: Oh man!

Atem: You’re the first one to ever win a game from me.

Yuugi: For someone who has never dueled before, being able to put me at the corner is an amazing feat, too!

Yuugi: But, in the end…

Atem: It was a fun duel!

[Page 86]

Yuugi: Thank you…

Yuugi: Atem

Yuugi: For dueling with me here.

Yuugi: If you don’t, I don’t know… when I will be able to get over with “the last duel” I had with my other self.

Yuugi: A duel that symbolizes our parting and sadness…

[Page 87]

Yuugi: What I wished for was so that I can duel with you once more with a smile on our faces/I can have a fun duel with you!

Atem: Those eyes again…

Atem: It’s like he’s having a reminiscence of something…

[Page 88]

Atem: Um…

Atem: I feel like there’s a meaning behind those words.

Yuugi: There is one indeed!

Atem: What is it?

Yuugi: Not telling!

Yuugi: You’ll understand it someday.

Atem: Egypt owes you so much for showing me the way to rule my country!

Yuugi: You’re exaggerating it!

Atem: It is the fact.

[Page 89]

Atem: That’s why I should be the one to thank you!

Atem: When I just arrived here, I always kept my guard over everything around me.

Atem: If you were not there, I would probably seclude myself in that ruins.

Atem: When I saw you the first time…

Atem: Of course…

[Page 90]

Atem: When I saw Yuugi, I understood that it’s a “fate” in one glance.

Atem: Yuugi, what exactly are you…

Atem: If you had been born in Egypt, I would have definitely taken you to the royal palace.

[Page 91]

Atem: I’m starting to like you, Yuugi…

[Page 92]

Yuugi: Ah!

Atem: Don’t stare at me that much…

Atem: I’m flustered too, here.

Atem: Your answer?

[Page 93]

Yuugi: I can feel it clearly now – just how long 3000 years can be.

[Page 94]

Atem: Yuugi…

Atem: You should relax a little bit, Yuugi…

[Page 95]

Atem: You’re too nervous. Is this your first time?

Yuugi: …Maybe…

Atem: Maybe? What’s with that answer?

Yuugi: Is this your first too, then?

Atem: Do I look like I have spare time for this?

Atem: That’s why, if it hurts…

Atem: Say it with words.

[Page 97]

Atem: Yuugi…?

Yuugi: And that’s why –

[Page 98]

Ishizu: You want to know the exact date when the meteor shower happened in Ancient Egypt 3000 years ago?

Yuugi: I was thinking of asking Ishizu-san to search for any possible method…

Ishizu: I understand.

Ishizu: It is possible to calculate the time when the space-time interval between 3000 years ago and this era will open by researching the literature.

Ishizu: I will inform you once we get the result.

Yuugi: Please do. Calculating 3000 years of time before must be difficult…

Ishizu: No problem. It is something related to the karma of history, so I will do to my utmost.

Atem: That woman… Isis?

Ishizu: Yuugi, can I ask you a question?

Yuugi: Yes?

[Page 99]

Ishizu: How do you feel right now?

Yuugi: …I don’t know.

Yuugi: It might be good or bad. It could be both.

Yuugi: What Atem needs the most right now is his era’s Egypt.

Yuugi: Both of us clearly understood about this one fact.

[Page 100]

Yuugi: Compared to this mundane feeling of mine,

Yuugi: Turning back the time needle of the messy history is more important.

Ishizu: I expected those words to come out of you.

Ishizu: Pardon my rudeness.

Atem: Why of all times, it has to be 3000 years later…

Atem: This era is apparently deeply connected to my own.

[Page 101]

Atem: Even both Yuugi and I…

Atem: Don’t tell me there is another Millenium Puzzle in this world…

Atem: Impossible…. That was a mere dream.

Atem: Millenium Items are not something one can create so easily.

[Page 102]

Yuugi: Oh, you’re awake.

Atem: Hey!

Atem: My clothes!

Yuugi: Got it, got it!

Yuugi: Us getting flustered over it on the next day is expected.

Yuugi: I need to calm down as well!

Yuugi: I’m already a grown-up, after all!

Text: Shyness Level

[Page 103]                  

Atem: With whom were you talking just now?

Yuugi: You heard it?

Yuugi: She’s Ishizu Ishtar, an archeologist.

Yuugi: She’s an expert when it comes to the history of ancient Egypt.

Yuugi: I have told her about you.

Yuugi: She’ll definitely be able to look for a way to return you back.

Yuugi: And your tomb guardian as well…

Atem: I see…

[Page 104]

Malik: What happened, Sister?

Malik: You look down.

[Page 105]

Ishizu: I was just…

Ishizu: I was only grieving the fact that the young king will remain clueless of the fate which will block his way forward.

Ishizu: This farewell might be a sadder one compared to the Ceremonial Duel…

[Page 108]

Yuugi: “Month X, Date X, take the Pharaoh to the place where you two met the first time at the Valley of the Kings, and wait for night to come”

Yuugi: The time Ishizu mentioned is today!

Yuugi: This chasm can only fit one person at a time.

Atem: Let’s go.

[Page 109]

Yuugi: I can feel Atem’s heat through his palm.

Yuugi: It’s warm…

[Page 110]

Yuugi: The you who are standing in front of me right now is my other self who lived inside me, but

Yuugi: It’s not the king who went to the afterlife.

Yuugi: The Atem who lived 3000 years ago…

[Page 111]

Yuugi: Even so, I couldn’t do anything but to watch as you get swallowed by the darkness.

[Page 112]

Atem: We can finally see the stars.

Atem: We have to part ways from here.

Yuugi: Yeah.

Atem: Thank you for taking care of me these past few days.

Yuugi: It’s nothing…

[Page 114]

Yuugi: Ah…

Yuugi: No.

Yuugi: I was…

Yuugi: It’s just…

Yuugi: …I couldn’t hold it back.

Atem: Yuugi…

Atem: A farewell is indeed painful.

[Page 115]

Atem: The two of us were hindered by a large gap of time flow.

Atem: If this abnormality hadn’t existed…

Atem: I wouldn’t have been able to know the existence of Mutou Yuugi for my whole life.

Atem: I couldn’t have imagined such a dream-like scenery like this exists in this world.

Atem: That’s why, the sadness from this parting…

[Page 116]

Atem: It’s nothing much compared to the joy I get from my encounter with you.

Yuugi: I feel the same! I’m really glad to be able to meet you!

Yuugi: That’s true… I couldn’t interfere with your past.

[Page 117]

Yuugi: But, at least.

Yuugi: You’ll be able to look for a place to belong to in the future.

Yuugi: I’m really grateful for this encounter I have with you.

Yuugi: My other self… even now, you are still the savior of my heart.

Atem: Yuugi…

Atem: There is something I’ve been meaning to ask until now.

Atem: Have you been looking at someone else through me?

Atem: It feels like your eyes have always stared at somewhere far away…

[Page 118]

Yuugi: I’ve always looked at no one but you!

Yuugi: The current you wouldn’t understand the things we have experienced together, but.

Yuugi: No matter how severe and sorrowful things might be in the future, I ask you to keep believing.

Yuugi: Believe that I would definitely come to save you!

[Page 119]

Yuugi: Just you wait!

Yuugi: Farewell… my treasure.

[Page 120]

Atem: The Millenium Puzzle is resonating with Yuugi!

Atem: Something is flowing inside my mind!

[Page 121]

Yuugi: Let’s meet again in the future!

Atem: Ah… I’ve finally understood why I was sent to this era…

Atem: Will I be able to meet you once more?

[Page 122]

Atem: It’s because you are here!

Yuugi: Definitely!

[Page 125]

Mana: Prince!

Mana: I’ve finally found you!

Atem: Mana.

Mana: Where have you been these past few days? Everyone’s looking for you!

Atem: Is the royal palace safe?

[Page 126]

Mana: Don’t worry! Lady Isis has been consoling everyone, so it was alright for a while.

Mana: I don’t understand the whole “interval between space and time” matter…

Mana: That’s why I got scolded by Master.

Atem: It’s alright.

Atem: Mahaad will definitely think of you better in the future.

Mana: Prince, did something happen to you?

Atem: What is it?

Mana: It’s been a while since I saw your smile, after all.

Mana: O-Of course it doesn’t mean you look upset all the time!

Mana: You are a prince after all – you need to keep your dignity!

Mana: It’s just, the way you are right now…

[Page 127]

Mana: You become slightly gentler

Mana: Just like someone who falters, and decides to put his blade into its sheath.

Atem: Something did happen…

Mana: What could it be?

Atem: It’s a world you couldn’t imagine unless you see it with your own two eyes.

Atem: What remains the same is probably only this starry sky.

Atem: I’ll tell the rest of the story later.

[Page 128]

Atem: For now, let’s take a rest and prepare for the upcoming coronation ceremony!

Mana: Alright!

[Page 129]

Yuugi: Silent Magician! Direct attack on the player!

[Page 130]

Atem: Partner… you are already strong, yet your growth will not stop here.

Atem: I am lucky to be able to see your future with my own eyes.

Atem: Now, I can finally understand the meaning of the words you said to me back then.

[Page 131]

Yuugi: I…

Yuugi: I’m too weak…

Yuugi: You were my hero… my goal… I wanted to be strong… like you…

Atem: You’re not weak… you’ve always had a power that no one else could beat.

Atem: The power of kindness – that’s what I learned from you.

Atem: And that power shows me the path I must take from the past to the future.

Atem: I was able to pierce through my hesitation and face the darkness without fear because of you.

[Page 132]

Atem: I will depart from here. I have no regrets about it.

Atem: I’m not the “other you” anymore…

Atem: And you… are no one else but you!

Atem: You are Yuugi… the only Mutou Yuugi in the world!

Atem: It’s because I know that someone as strong as you will shine brightly among millions of people.

Atem: That is the glory that you have created with your own two hands.

[Page 133]

Atem: Thank you, partner…

[Page 134]

Atem: And let’s meet again in the future!

[apprenticegamemaster]

Pern Au Lore Snippets

Will I ever actually write this au? Probably not. But I DO want to get this nonsense out of my brain, so here’s some bits of lore. Feel free to snag for your RPs or fanfiction or the like if you want, heaven knows I’m probably borrowing from half a dozen other things I’ve seen people write.

The larger holds didn’t always have the large outbuildings and surrounding cots that they do in the “modern” day. Back before the Plague of Moreta, pretty much the entirety of a hold’s population would live within the cliffs, sometimes far enough in that the air was pretty much always stale despite whatever vents were put in when the hold was first carved out. The plague, being a respiratory-based illness, meant that suddenly it was far more important than ever for holders to have access to fresh air both to avoid the illness and to avoid aggravating the lungs of the survivors afterword. The big holds built out more than they carved in from that point on, and eventually many of them kinda forgot about some of the back passageways and rooms.

Speaking of Holds, the majority of cots and small holds are structurally similar to single or multi-generation homes do on Earth, but the major holds tend to operate similarly to Ancient Roman apartment blocks- basically, an individual person might have a room for themselves or share it with a few other people, but sleeping’s about the only thing the whole wing might be set up to do. Bathrooms, restrooms, kitchens, etc, are all in other parts of the hold. Wealthier families might have something closer to a modern college dorm with a suite or pod of rooms that all share a bathroom, but hall-style dorm living arrangements are far more common if the sleeping quarters have a nearby bathroom at all.

Mixing a bit of the “Crafthalls are not Monoliths” lore from another post I saw a while back with something I vaguely remember from the Todd books: There’s been a good handful of schisms in the past between the main crafthalls, the biggest one on my AU being between the Eastern and Western Harper Halls. Generally speaking, most of them were caused either by a few rogue Masters or Journeymen running off to do their own thing or just by way of being too physically far apart to keep from going their separate ways.

Still, the biggest split is between the people who got apprenticed to the various Halls and the people who are engaging in the craft in a vernacular manner, e.g. the guy who learned to make furniture via being apprenticed to a Master versus the guys in the smaller halls that are making furniture because their Hold needs the stuff and it’s too expensive to get something made elsewhere, or the locally-woven cloth versus the stuff made in Weavercrafthalls. In my AU there’s quite a few people that can paint frescoes and the like, for instance, but your local man is probably going to be more along the lines of your average medieval monk’s artistic ability (aka not particularly detailed or realistic), versus the more Romanesque and Renaissance-styled artists you can hire out of the Eastern Harper Hall. There’s a strong element of classism there, but the crafthalls like to think they’ve got the One True Way of doing things even when they really don’t.

Bees made it to Pern. There’s no way that half the crops the colonists brought would’ve made it if the bees didn’t.

Similarly, I’m replacing the llamas that I saw mentioned in the Dragonlover’s guide to Pern with Alpacas, specifically the Paco-Vicuna variety, because llamas are Mean and Paco-Vicunas are Nice creatures that are Extremely Soft. The High Reaches have the overwhelming majority of the herds of them, and has a small Weavercrafthall set up just to make luxury woolens from them. Local holders call them llacuanas or something similar, though, because while the guy who brought them knew what they were, pretty much all the other holders just thought they were llamas and a few wires got crossed.

Cinnamon specifically might have failed to transplant to Pern, but the majority of spices did well enough once the right climates were found for them- mainly in Igen (Ingen? what is spelling). The area’s surprisingly wealthy as a result, similarly to how spices made the Arabian peninsula area wealthy during the days of the Silk Road and the like.

Tillek may be pretty rainy, but that’s because the climate is close to the Pacific Northwest- it’s a lot of temperate rainforest in that area. Pity the local flora doesn’t lend itself to woodcraft- most of the trees are either stubby and spindly and really only decent for firewood (if you can dry it out) or are the super-tough stonewoods that’ll pretty much break any ax or saw if you’re not careful... or if you’re just not lucky. Lots of marshes and fens and the like, too, so fishing really is pretty much the main way to go there.

Fort and Boll are accordingly north and south California. Nerat has a few parts that mimic Florida, but most of it’s tropical rainforest. Benden is just the middle coast of the USA. Heck, to an extent you can just mirror the Continental USA onto Pern’s Northern Continent- there’s general principles to how climate works re: coasts and interiors and the like and it’s just the same on Pern.

There’s been a few tries to get colonies up and going on the various island chains outside the Northern Continent, but none of them really stuck, even as a penal colony. The wyers just can’t extend protection over the oceans during Passes, and getting wooden ships to go out that far when threadfall is a thing was just too much of a risk, and it turns out that 50 years plus however long it took to send out the next few boats was generally long enough for things to go Horribly Wrong. There’s still a few landmarks there that dragonriders can Between to- mainly a couple Stonehenge-like setups- since the cattle that were released/escaped on the two biggest islands have done pretty well, making it a tasty stopoff for dragons. Plus whatever fruits and the like the wyers can scavenge. Most interesting thing otherwise is the unique subspecies of fire lizards, which have larger wingspans with a bit more patterning to the wings. They tend to migrate up and down the island chains as the seasons go.

The Southern Continent as a whole is held in about the same regard by sailors as Medieval kings held the mythical kingdom of Prester John- a super cool legendary location that TOTALLY exists, but is actually nowhere near as mystical and majestic as the stories say. It got lost pretty much the same way the islands got lost- the wyers just couldn’t spread out enough to cover the ocean passage, even if they could cover the landmass areas. By the “modern” time in my AU pretty much only the sailors near Ista and Boll give it any credit at all, and only because there’s always That One Ship that gets seriously unlucky and/or just has a shit navigator and ends up on the other side of the equator before they figure out how to get home. Boats from the Nerat area generally can’t stock enough in their holds to make it to the Southern Continent, much less make it back.

[13reasonstoeatthatcake]

Neil and languages

Neil knowing two languages other than English is already impressive, as I'm sure everyone is aware, but the fact of the matter is, for someone who'd supposedly hid all over the world from his mafioso father, I'm afraid German and French are... woefully inadequate in helping him blend in.

(Just to be clear, Nora Sakavic has absolutely made a masterpiece and I'd never dream of creating something as amazing as the All For The Game trilogy. It's just that I'm a language nerd and also from (Eastern) Europe, and I love forcing my own interests and experiences on characters, and as Neil is one of the only trilingual characters I've ever seen in media I can't pass up on the opportunity to make him a polyglot.)

So, without further ado, I present to you: the languages Neil Josten has had to use while on the run, a very long list of HCs.

English: since it's (presumably) Neil's mother language, he has the most practice with switching dialects in English. Neil can do almost every English accent that he's come across, which is helpful for when he needs to blend in a country where the official language is English (USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand are most frequent but he's also had to do it in India and Malaysia. Not UK, for obvious reasons, and pretending to be tourists in Europe can only hold up for so long)

German: German accents are ridiculous, but significantly easier to pull off than English accents. The Austrian and Hessen accents in particular are hellish for me, but knowing Neil he probably has them all down pat. You can maybe use German outside of Germany, Switzerland and Austria, especially in France and Italy where a lot of people learn German rather than English, but up north? Yeah, no, there it's either one of the holy trinity Danish/Norwegian/Swedish or English. We're not even mentioning Finnish, oh no. A lot of people in Egypt speak German as their third language, as well as Poland and other West/South Slavic nations, but then you risk standing out as that foreign German mother and son combo, which, no. Speaking of German, though,

Yiddish: Is a language very close to German, as in close enough that even I, who can hardly understand German, gets the gist of it. Even if Mary was not a practicing Jew, or knew Hebrew or another dialect better, it's an easy language to pick up when you have German as a base and also creates a fuller backstory. The downside to that is that it's recognisable that a Jewish, Yiddish mother and son combo are walking around, so maybe it's used in rare occasions.

Arabic: I actually hc Mary's family immigrated from Israel years ago and since they both look vaguely Arab/'eastern' enough to pass, and since in the books Neil says they spent some time in Dubai, they've probably had to learn some Arabic. They probably learned Modern Standard Arabic, and depending on how long they stayed in a country, they adapted it to the local dialect. (Arabic dialects vary from each other about as much as Chinese dialects do, aka A Lot. They probably used the excuse that nobody would understand their mother dialect and that's why they communicate in MSA only, but again, no matter how common that is it would still make them paranoid about standing out and so they'd move quickly.) A lot of Arabic countries however also speak a lot of

French: honestly, out of all the languages Neil speaks this is probably the hardest one because French people are fucking judgemental when you fuck up even a slight thing, ergo there's a higher risk of them being revealed because of 'oh yeah, mother and son, their French was horrendous'. French is spoken in Switzerland, Morocco and other Arabic countries, Québec, the whole of French Polynesia, also a lot of Slavic countries under the rule of USSR, but that's the older folks.

Serbian: As much as I'd like to get my favourite character to speak my mother language, I'm certain if Mary had to choose a Slavic language (other than Russian, which in official(?) post-canon Neil learns with Andrew) to learn it would have been Serbian, because it comes in a three-way package deal with fluency in Bosnian and Croatian, which makes it a lot easier to disappear. Additionally, it gives a good understanding of how other Slavic languages work, and it's only a matter of some tweaking to pretend to speak another Slavic language entirely. As someone from the literal only Slavic language that doesn't use cases, I understand up to 80% of every South Slavic and East Slavic language, and if somebody informs me of what roughly is going on, I can understand up to 70% of every West Slavic one as well. Neil and his mother might not have learned Russian, but Serbian is a must, especially since they'd blend in better with us Balkan folk than the more northern countries. Countries Serbian can be used in, with some minor tweaking: Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Albania, Greece, Turkey, Romania, Slovenia, Slovakia, alongside almost all of Europe if they decide to act as immigrants or tourists (this last point counts for every language on this list, by the way)

Spanish: Spanish is the third most spoken language in the world after Chinese and English (if we're talking native speakers). There is literally no continent where it isn't spoken. While they would need to tweak their accents and such, the entirety of South America, Mexico, Cuba, the Phillipines and some African countries are all ideal places to hide. Portugese, I know, is an entirely different language, but not that hard to get the knack of once you have Spanish as a base, and it's the same thing with Italian.

Languages Neil and his mother haven't learned, even though they've hidden in the countries: a rough overview. (Note: though he hasn't learned them, Neil still probably had to memorise a set list of phrases well enough to sound fluent, but shy.)

Any northern European language. Mary was insistent they don't waste time or effort on non-essential or one-note languages; Dutch, Norwegian and Swedish are only useful in small parts of Europe and Africa, and speaking Afrikaans in Africa is a good way to get noticed, so they didn't learn that. Same thing with Finnish, Latvian, Estonian, Lituanian. They had some basic understanding of Belarussian and Russian thanks to Serbian, but nothing more.

Any African language. While Swahili is spoken all thorough Africa, it's not the language barrier that makes it hard to blend in but the colour of their skin, ergo almost the whole continent is out.

Indian languages. They'd only hidden in big cities, so people knew English, and Hindi is too complicated to learn when you're moving through so many different dialects and other, completely different languages.

Any and all languages in the Caucasus region. Those are hard to speak or learn, and they don't stay long there anyway. A lot of people there speak Russian as their second language, as well as people from Central Asia (Kazakhstan, Mongolia, etc) but again, they don't spend much time there.

Turkic languages. They learned a bit in Turkey, but again, it's not useful enough, and the dialect variations are too big without a common dialect to bind them together like Arabic had. Same thing with Greek or Albanian.

Any East Asian languages. Two non-Asians speaking any East Asian language causes too much attention.

For now, this is all I’ve got on the ‘polyglot Neil’ front. If I ever decide to include something else, it’s probably not going to be as long!

Polish. The name ‘Wesninski’ sounds Polish, if nothing else (I couldn’t find an etymology that wasn’t connected to this series) and there’s supposed to be a lot of Polish immigrants in Baltimore, so I think if Nathan Wesninski ever knew Polish, Mary would never want to hear the language again, and even if he had no connection to his Polish roots, she still would associate the language with him. Maybe Neil would one day decide to learn it, but until then it’s probably just another thing that reminds him of his father.

Bonus round:

If we're disregarding what Nora said while answering questions on tumblr and instead bend to the laws of logic, Mary and Neil would have learned Russian because it's literally THE lingua franca of Eastern Europe. It doesn't matter if you're in Bulgaria, Georgia or Kazakhstan, you speak Russian and people naturally assume you're here for work. However, I love andreil more than I love being this petty, so ig them learning Russian together is cute enough to make me forget the logistic nightmare this is.

[creative-poptart]

UF/UT Papyrus and SF Sans and Papyrus with an S/O who sadly committed suicide one week ago. Sorry for the sad ask qwq

So this one is hard for me to write about, and I put off writing for it for a really long time. If anyone is struggling with suicidal thoughts, as someone who has been on the other end of losing someone, you are still loved. I don’t know who you are, but I love you. Please reach out for help or call a hotline number, I’ll list them below this section. The actual answer will be under a cut, read at your own risk.

USA Suicide Prevention:  1-800-273-8255 UK Suicide Prevention:  +44 (0) 8457 90 90 90Many others can be found on this website. Please reach out if you need it.

UF Papyrus/Fell: While he’s not unfamiliar with suicide, as monsters in his version of the Underground would sometimes off themselves, he’s never had it hit this hard before. Upon hearing the news of what had happened, Fell is struck dumb. It’s as if the world stops turning for a few minutes while he tries to process this new information. However, when his skull finally catches up with him, he’s devastated beyond what words can express. You’re... You’re gone. He’s left with a hollow emptiness that he’s never experienced before, not knowing what to do with himself. Does he move on and find love elsewhere? Should he go back to work when he’s still grieving? Fell is genuinely lost now, having never experienced grief like this before. Ultimately, he doesn’t go seeking out love for a long time afterward, always haunted by your face. His work suffers for a bit too, and he spends a lot more time in quiet thought now, wondering.

UT Papyrus/Creampuff: There’s a lot of things that Creampuff can handle in his day to day life, including terrible puns and insults. However, he’s directly confronted with the death of someone so close to him, and he hasn't got a clue. He breaks down, hard. With how loud he is on a regular basis, one would expect that he would be sobbing loudly, but it’s the opposite. He won’t be screaming and wailing for you to come back but instead mourning with quiet sobs and whispers. He should have seen the signs, he should have come home sooner, he should have tried to help you more. Creampuff largely blames himself for all of this, trying to figure out what went wrong and never letting himself recover fully from your death. He’s throwing everything he can into suicide prevention programs, becoming a leader in that side of the world, and speaking out to try and help other people to reconsider other options for their lives instead of suicide.

SF Sans/Black: Overall, once he receives the news of what happened to you, nothing seems to change to an outsider. Black’s still working as hard as ever, if not harder than before, and to everyone else, he seems to be okay. However, behind closed doors, it’s a much different story. He’s utterly devastated by your death, barely functioning on his own now that you’re gone. There’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t miss you or think about how much he wants you back. Black is working as much as he physically can because he doesn’t want to hurt anymore, so he flings himself into his work. His health is going to be shoddy at best for a few years after your suicide, and no one will be able to convince him to slow down. When he does take some time to stop, he’ll set up a little memorial for you, and make sure that your memory is honored fittingly. He would still rather have you with him, but since he can’t change the past, this will do.

SF Papyrus/Rus: You can’t just be gone, there’s no way! Rus will be in some significant denial for a really long time, hoping this is all some joke. If anything at all, he won’t bother any of your things in the hopes that you would come back and love on him more. When it does finally sink in, it’s less than a pretty sight. He spirals into depression, clinging to whatever he has left from the time you two were together. There isn’t anything you had that is not in his room now, because he’s taking it all in. Photos are carefully kept in a binder, and he’s going to make sure that each one is preserved perfectly. There will be moments where Rus is going to turn to ask you a question or try to show you something, only to remember that you’re not there anymore. This sequence will always end in tears, reopening the hurt that he’s managed to tamp down for a few days or so. It’s going to take at least a decade for him to recover from this, if not more.

Thanks for the ask, @an-ironic-cheesecake. And again, if anyone at all needs help, do not hesitate to call the suicide hotline for your country.

[bitchfacecupid]

Looking for neurodivergent friends in the following areas

• Seattle-Marysville Washington (USA)

• Tadley UK - Anywhere within a half hour drive)

• Basingstoke UK

• Reading UK

This will be a long post with information about myself, what types of friends I'm looking for what what traits in a a friend I don't want (for example a friendship with me won't work if you don't love animals, want to stay indoors all the time and hate charity shops).

Please be sure to tell me PLENTY about yourself in messages or the replies section. I also have Discord and email too.

I was diagnosed with Autism at age 7. I'll be 25 on 20 September. I grew up in North Snohomish County Washington (USA) and lived in one apartment for 15 years before having to move out.

I absolutely adore guinea pigs and have had them for 17 years. I currently have a bonded pair of Himalayan lilac point boars names Tank and Skert. They're brothers, both about 3 years old. They live in a 2x4 C&C cage. Have thousands of photos of my previous pairs of pigs, all adopted (adopt, don't shop!); Flower and Heart, Small Fry/Bean Dip/Nutmeg/Panda (all one herd in a queen size C&C cage) and Harley & Blaster (my only other set of boars).

Below is a list of activities, topics and things in general I love:

• Swimming

• Horses

• Berry picking

• Going to the lake or beach

• Going to parks

• Picking up litter (safely)

• Walking dogs

• Running errands for people who can't do it themselves

• The Young Ones

• Guinea Pigs

• Solid log/wood beds

• IT & IT Chapter 2

• The Lost Boys

• The Goonies

• Robot Chicken

• Sarcasm

• Outside work

• Yautja (Predator)

• Camping

• Cooking/home making meals

• Cleaning and organising

• Thrift store shopping

• Recycling

• Schedules

• Planning ahead

• People who show up

• Garage sales/thrift stores (charity shops)

• Routines

• Mangos

• Home-made fruit smoothies

• Steamed broccoli & Cauliflower

• Mint chocolate chip ice cream

• Chunky PB

• Outdoor activities

• Eating outside

• Long baths and not having to end them by a certain time

• Looking through the clearance sections

• Clear communication

• Bearded dragons

• Opossums

I don't enjoy city life very much and am trying to get away from it via staying on and working on a relative's 5 acre property most of the week.

I used to have very bad regular and social anxiety but went to a social anxiety therapy group for 6+ months to work on it, so it for much better. I am far better at approaching strangers, initiating conversations and having confidence in myself when I speak or in conversation/what in saying because of that group. I developed a literal loud voice in which to talk to others from that group. I welcome with open arms anyone with social anxiety.

I do not understand any of the following:

• Body language

• Social norms

• Social expectations

•Unwritten rules

• Passive aggressiveness

•Not saying what you mean

• Expecting people to pick up on social "hints."

• Hidden social cues

• Mixed signals

• Expecting someone to know what you mean when you say something

• The context of most phrases

• Having intentions assigned to my actions

• People getting upset or thinking someone is weird the moment someone doesn't meet and or follow their expectations/social norms

• Being passive aggressive towards someone when you're mad at or irritated with them

• Not communicating clearly

• Why anyone likes red velvet or pumpkin spice anything.

I am not a "nerd" as most of the masses would refer to, however I am in a long term relationship with a massive one. As a result, I learned to write in the following fandom languages to make him smile;

• Aurebesh-Star Wars

• Unitologist-Deadapace

• Some Mandalorian (this was long before talk of the show even began to surface).

I've only seen Revenge Of The Sith. I'm ironically not a SW fan. Yet dating a mega one.

I travel from Seattle to the Basingstoke/Reading/ RG-265PT UK area a few times a year to see my Boyfriend so anyone in that area I would love to befriend! I have no non American friends aside from his family!

I'm not interested in friends who either have/want any of these qualities or habits;

• Have or want children

• Smokers (this only applies to people in the US. I don't care if you're a smoker in the UK as the culture around it there is completely different than here in the US).

• Drink alcohol excessively

• Party personality

• Don't clean up after themselves

• Don't like or love animals

• Doesn't enjoy cooking or the outdoors

• Wants to stay inside all the time

• Lives off of delivery or takeout

• Works all the time

• Likes anime/manga (seems odd I understand)

• Doesn't want to see each other in person

• Is on their phone constantly (work purposes is fine)

• Won't put in effort to help plan en even or help pitch in for purchasing something needed for a trip.

I'm a planner type person, I like to plan anything I can as far in advance as possible.

I fully support BLM. Every POC life matters, always has, always will. I support sex workers working and women being able to do what they want with their own bodies. I support LGBTQ+ people getting fair and unbiased medical treatment without discrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity/presentation or sexual history. If these things bother you, you need not respond.

I enjoy caring for sick people and running errands too, so if you ever need someone to help you do things while you're unwell, I'm a call away. I enjoy having things to keep me busy. It makes me feel useful.

[mst3kproject]

602: Invasion USA

 This is not the 1985 movie with Chuck Norris.  I suppose I should watch that one someday as an Episode that Never Was, but for now we have this.  Its basic purpose is the same as that of Rocket Attack USA, to scare the audience into patriotic loyalty, and it shockingly manages to be even worse at it.

A bunch of people are sitting around in a bar talking about the universal draft when an unnamed country suddenly declares war on the United States, and… well, that’s it, really.  Stock footage of anti-aircraft guns fires on stock footage of planes. Stock footage of atom bombs is dropped on stock footage of cities.  Stock footage of warships crosses stock footage of oceans.  All while the so-called characters watch it happening on television and remark on how they can’t believe this is real… no wonder, since none of it is happening in the same dimension they’re in.

I refuse to call Invasion USA a movie.  It doesn’t qualify.  It’s more like four newsreels in a trench coat and a fake beard, trying to pretend they’re a narrative.  Take, for example, the part where Boulder Dam is destroyed.  We see stock footage of the planes.  We see stock footage of the dam.  We see stock footage of a mushroom cloud.  And then stock footage of a flood.  The closest this comes to interacting with the characters fleeing from it is that we see the flood footage back-projected behind their car, and then the camera rolls over and we cut to some of their possessions which have been tossed into a river.  It’s all so obviously a juxtaposition rather than a series of events.  You can’t help but roll your eyes.

The nearest this comes to being interesting or exciting is some of the stuff we see in the military stock footage.  The audience doesn’t exactly feel involved in this – it’s just film of random Things Happening so it doesn’t tell a story, except in retrospect when the TV news anchor tells us what’s supposed to be going on, but there are some spectacular plane crashes and so forth.  Of course, then you remember that none of this is special effects.  You’re watching real human beings die gruesome deaths.  That sucks the fun out of it pretty fast.

It’s not until the last twelve minutes that we get anything that might be called a special effect.  The bad guys nuke New York, and while what we see looks nothing like the aftermath of an atomic bombing, there is an actual miniature building that falls apart, dumping Styrofoam boulders on our heroes.  This is followed by a mediocre matte paining, but one that still does the job its meant to do.  It’s actually kind of a shock, since up until now the war has seemed to go on all around this room but never to enter it.

That’s one halfway-effective moment out of an entire seventy-three minutes of film, however, and the rest is all garbage. Not only is there the endless stock footage, there’s also the bad guys.  They’re never identified as Soviets, though they speak with Russian accents, because the film-makers didn’t want Invasion USA to be a self-fulfilling prophecy (thus making them more sensible than the people who made The Interview).  Much is made of the fact that they’re wearing American uniforms, but the one time they try to make a plot point out of it, a guard sees through the ruse immediately. The real reason is once again to avoid mentioning a country, and so they can use the stock footage of American soldiers to represent both sides.

The baddies espouse ideals of equality, freedom, and peace, but the only ones we actually meet are a couple of bullying, alcoholic rapists. This serves its purpose but the writers apparently see no contradiction between portraying ‘bad’ characters as drunks and having the ‘good’ characters sitting around drinking for half the run time.  I guess whether alcohol is good or bad depends on how nicely you’re dressed and what shape of glass you’re drinking it from. Not to mention that the psychic who can be seen as a bully and a rapist based on what he does to the other characters’ minds, but I’ll get back to that.

How long the whole war takes to happen I have no idea.  A few days must have passed, since a guy drives from San Francisco to somewhere in Arizona, and somebody makes a reference to ‘months’, but the way we keep cutting back to the same people in the same bar gives the impression that the invasion of America happens in about twenty minutes.  Maybe this is intentional, since the story, of course, ends with the revelation that it was alllll a dreeeeeeam.  Or maybe everybody was just too incompetent to show us time passing.

The ending attempts to work on multiple levels and is shit on all of them.  First, there’s the ending to the narrative we’ve been watching.  This isn’t really a story, since there’s no plot as such, merely things happening that the characters cannot possibly do anything about. They’re powerless in the face of these overwhelming events, and once the factory owner is shot after refusing to build tanks for the invaders, it doesn’t take the audience long to realize that this fate will be pretty universal. ��Sure enough! The rancher is drowned when the flood from the broken dam sweeps him away, along with his wife and kids to make it extra-tragic.  The politician is killed in the attack on Washington.  The reporter is shot for picking a fight with a bad guy, and his girlfriend leaps out the window to her death.

Then of course they wake up back in the bar, and learn that it was all a dream, or rather a vision, instilled in their minds by a psychic who hypnotized them with swirling whiskey!  I’m inclined to be slightly more forgiving of this than I normally would be, since it was sort of set up and at this point there’s really nowhere else to go.  It’s still an obnoxious way to end a story and there’s a reason your high school English teacher told you not to do it.  Some dialogue establishes they all had the same vision, and then the psychic informs them that this is what the future will be if they don’t take steps to avoid it.

Uh, excuse me, what?  Nothing we’ve just seen suggests that any of these five people were in a particular position to save the world.  They can do small things – the woman goes to get a job at the blood bank, the factory owner decides to make tank parts instead of tractors, and so on (are tractors not important?  Call me a commie but I’d rather my tax money be spent on feeding people than on blowing them up).  But none of this will prevent the invasion we saw and could only make the slightest of differences in its outcome.  Are the five of them somehow crucial in a way the narrative didn’t bother to make clear?

Of course, that’s not actually the point here.  The real moral of the story is that we all need to do what we can to grease the wheels of the war machine, or we’re gonna end up calling each other Comrade.  So… what was the psychic’s goal, here?  Did he just decide to scare the pants off these people because he was annoyed by their opinions about the draft?  Or is he going from bar to bar, instilling this vision of the future in every person he meets one at a time?  And of course we have only his word for it that it is the future. The bartender does call him a con man, and for all we know he made the whole thing up.

What about the woman and the reporter, who saw themselves falling in love and then being tragically separated?  They didn’t consent to that.  The illusion of the relationship, with all its emotional, psychological, and sexual consequences, was forced upon them by an outside influence.  They decide to use this second chance to pursue it in a situation where it might not end in tragedy, but who’s to say it’ll work without that background?  They would have every right to object to this violation of their minds… as would the others, who saw their families die and their homes destroyed.

The final shot gives us a quote from George Washington: to prepare for war is one of the most effectual means of preserving peace.  I don’t know if Washington ever said that but if he did he stole it.  Si vis pacem, para bellum is a Latin adage, first attested in Vegetius, although versions also appear in Plato and Sima Qian.  It’s as old as humanity, and attributing it to Washington is just one more attempt to tug on the patriotic heartstrings.  Of course, if you consider the Romans, the Athenians, and the ancient Chinese… yep, this is something said by empire builders.

You know what movies like this have taught me?  That propaganda film-making is really hard.  If you want to deliver a message without annoying the audience then it has to emerge naturally from the story being told, rather than being imposed upon it like, say, the save-the-oceans message in Gamera vs Zigra. Then the story also has to make sense outside of that message, it has to feel like it would be worth telling even if the moral weren’t attached – Pacific Rim has a moral about working together, but it’s also just enjoyable to watch.  Invasion USA is not like that.  It exists only to shove its message down our throats and it isn’t even any good at it.  Fuck this stock footage montage pretending to be a movie.

[militant-holy-knight]

Tom Kratman’s Caliphate Review: Disturbingly Prophetic

Its easy to forget that outright right-winged/conservative literature actually exists though admittedly it’s hard to find those with actual merit nor enjoy the same popularity as other types of works. I’ve came across one example written by retired US Army soldier Tom Kratman whom you may or may have not heard about if you are familiar with the Sad Puppies incident from 2015, where the Hugo Awards were biased against writers with conservative leanings. Kratman is someone who delights in offending left-wing sensibilities by his own admission and it’s reflected in his works that often deal with themes like fighting Muslim terrorists in sci-fi settings. One such of these works is Caliphate, written in 2008 and it struck me how... prescient this book was about the contemporary times and may well still be for the future.

The premise is as follows: Islamic terrorists seize nuclear weapons and use it to nuke three American cities during September 11 (as well as London and Israel). The American outrage against Muslims spirals into the election of a third-party populist candidate who promises vengeance against this attack, which he does by simultaneously nuking all Islamic countries in the world (and North Korea for good measure). This disaster leads to an massive exodus of Muslims into Europe who migrate there and thanks to their massive birthrates, they are able to hijack countries by voting for hardcore Islamist parties (as democracy must abide by the majority). They transform Europe - or at least Western Europe or the countries associated with the EU - into a Islamic empire, the titular Caliphate which functions like a hybrid of the modern day Islamist regime like the Taliban, ISIS and Boko Haram (public executions, lashings, women can’t be seen outside without being covered), and the Ottoman Empire (conscription and brainwashing of dhimmis into military service).

The story follows two parallel narratives: one in the distant future over a century after the terrorist attack where America has transformed into a totalitarian empire know as ISA (Imperial States of America) which is in cold war against the Caliphate in Europe and a second one set in “present days” when things are relatively normal but then we witness the events quickly fall apart. The first one follows John Hamilton, an disillusioned American soldier who is recruited by the CIA to infiltrate the Caliphate and investigate a trio of Canadian scientists who are working in a virus to destroy America. The second one follows Gabrielle, a liberal German woman that sees the collapse of Europe up close and tying them together is that she is the ancestor of one of the main characters. These narratives are told simultaneously and are always accompanied by critical quotes of Islam in their opening.

You’d think a work like this would be simply “AMERICA FUCK YEAH” and “FUCK ISLAM” over and over, but Kratman actually does a surprising amount of nuance. For one, it’s made clear that this America is really a dystopia and not an ideal place to live, reflected by its actions and Hamilton’s thoughts about it - at one point, US soldiers carry out ethnic cleansing against Moros in the Philippines and Hamilton is disturbed even after someone close to him died because of them. And while the book doesn’t hold back in bashing Islam, not all of them are portrayed as intolerant religious fanatics - there are genuinely good characters and even some grey ones with complexity added to them. For that matter, even non-Muslims can be villains too so it isn’t a black and white kind of work.

A surprising amount of world-building was put in place to make this world interesting: it’s established that the USA has occupied Canada and the Philippines, England has turned into an absolute monarchy, China has become some kind of transhuman empire, only a portion of Europe is actually under the Caliphate control with most of Eastern Europe under Russia control (because of course) and it’s heavily implied Israel has carried out a final solution against Palestinians. This can however can be a detriment because all these interesting paths are presented but never truly explored. We never see how the UK is under the absolute monarchy, nor this Russian tsardom and we only hear whispers about how bad China is in the distant future (which is implied to be worse than the Caliphate). The one that truly does get any exposure is the Neo-Boer State which was established in the southern half of the African continent by European refugees fleeing from Muslims in their own country and has a section of the story taking place there.

Besides Hamilton, there are other viewpoints in the story with the ones after his following German brothers Hans and Petra, two Christian siblings that live in the Caliphate and are taken apart by the devishrme-like system. He becomes a janissary soldier, while she becomes a servant in a Muslim household. Their stories are actually far more compelling than Hamilton since their struggles are more personal while Hamilton wouldn’t be out of place in a video game where he starred as it’s generic Space Marine protagonist. Hans remains a Christian despite his outward conversion to Islam and actively rebels against Caliphate culture which leads to him adopting a crusader identity, while Petra’s storyline explores the woes faced by women under a fundamentalist Islamic regime i.e. not unlike what those who endured Taliban or ISIS regime.

And make no mistake: the story never holds back on the graphic content. There is plenty of violence including impalement, crucifixions, sexual attacks and etc, which may be a turn off for many readers, and it doesn’t help they have to drive home how dystopian this setting is. It may come across as over-the-top as it made me wonder how plausible this Caliphate could even function (it’s established that the Caliphate can only function in a slave-based economy or taxing the dhimmis, which they can’t afford to abuse or exile since they’d collapse). The Arab Peninsula was once unified under Muhammad and his four successors who drove out all Christians, Jews and polytheists from their lands, but then fell into tribalism and stayed that way for centuries with only Mecca and Medina (the only relevant sites of Islam) being controlled by outsider Muslims.

I know I make the story sound unrealistic and fantastical, but the main takeway from this book I had was how prophetic the story was in regards to the current and political atmosphere. Keep in mind that what I am about to write was published in April 2008, in a completely different scenario than the one we live:

The insane American president who nukes the Islamic world is very Trumpesque and shares similar slogans (”WE WILL MAKE THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS PAY”). He is basically what leftists believed Trump would actually do if he was elected like put Muslims in internment camps like the Japanese-Americans in WW2.

Great Britain actually breaks out from the European Union, except under much different circumstances: rather than voting themselves out like Brexit, they turn into an absolute monarchy once again and become completely isolationist.

The rise of an brutal, terrorist regime mirrors the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria that rose to prominence during the Arab Spring in 2011.

A large-scale migration of Middle-Easterns into the West triggered by some kind of disaster, only it was an genocidal attack in the book rather than the consequences of a regional movement that led to the collapse of MENA states with the Arab Spring.

The “present day” narrative also presents scenarios no different than the current reality of Europe with no-go zones where migrants of Muslim background are involved in criminal activity and target the native population as seen in France, Germany and Sweden.

Islamists infiltrating democratic institutions in order to impose their values as seen with many neighbors in Belgium and the Netherlands where Muslims are the majority to the native population.

Russia expanding their control over Eastern Europe mirroring their foreign policy to consolidate their regional superpower status.

China being up to no good with technology.

And of course a deadly virus engineered to destroy political rivals, though this time by rogue scientists working for Muslim terrorists rather than China.

It’s possible that some of Kratman wrote was already true of his time which served as basis for the present day narrative. But reality was much different back then: Obama was yet to become President and Bush was still in office (and nobody had an idea how the former would turn out), China was less despotic then than it’s now under Xi Jinping, the Russo-Georgian War was still to take place and migration to the West was relatively low compared to after the 2015′s refugee crisis, the UKIP was considered a fringe party and the UK leaving the European Union was a distant dream. Nobody was talking about no-go zones, but then again the Internet wasn’t as big back then as it’s now. Rather than writing about the modern political atmosphere of his time, Kratman envisioned a possible future which he predicted fairly closely and at the same time, it spoke about issues that are relevant to anyone who isn’t afraid to speak about the problems regarding Islamic ideology or integration of migrants into their host countries.

What depressed me the most about the book is that it’s dystopian reality may be our own future. It’s an common concern for conservatives and right-wingers that Muslims become a majority in the West - a boast that they never cease making - soon which might lead to an eventual clash of civilizations. A quarter of Belgium might be Islamic and this is possible because of enabling from leftist politicians that flirt with radicals for convenience and consider the values they promote like women and LGBT rights to be an acceptable sacrifice to overthrow conservative capitalism. This kind of behavior is actually acknowledged and mocked by Kratman, as Gabrielle is an radical SJW that hates Western conservatives more than Islamists to the point this leads to the breakdown with her relationship with an Egyptian migrant that converts to Christianity and ends up moving to the USA before becoming a authoritarian regime.

The book presents Islam’s conquest of Europe as a complete surrender without a fight - the migrants just breed like rats and vote for Islamist parties to hijack the government through legitimate means and one American ambassador chides Gabrielle and her people for abandoning their own values and allowing this to happen. This probably speaks a lot to the more cynical among us who see our governments bending over to outsiders over their own people and see where it might be headed. Personally I don’t believe a caliphate is where the future is headed, as it provides no real attractive alternative that the West has presented, but it certainly won’t stop some people from trying and there will be certainly a fight.

Are we really going have to look forward for an revived Ottoman Empire in the heartland of Europe where Christian boys are whipped into slave-soldiers, girls are sold to harems like cheap prostitutes and non-Muslims live like second class citizens being forced to pay outrageous, humiliating taxes like the jizya? Hopefully not, but the possibility of terrorists acquiring nukes is an always constant one, and with the Iranian nuclear program will push it’s neighbors to do the same as form of deterrence if they feel threatened. Knowing how fragile Muslims states are and that if those nukes fell into the wrong hands, the events of the book could be precipitated but luckily for us, nuclear armament is expensive and takes a lot of work which not even the wealthiest countries like Saudi Arabia can afford to develop it themselves, let alone the poorest ones like Syria and Iraq so that might not be a reality just now.

Do I recommend this book? The world is very interesting, it’s actually a bit more complex and nuanced as both sides don’t come off as “bright” (albeit the Caliphate is presented as worse). If you want to see a book that talks about issues you find relevant like immigration and terrorism from a conservative perspective, this is a must-read. The main protagonist can be very dull whereas the secondary protagonists are more compelling - it depends on how much you like military heroes written by an American veteran I guess. While the ending to the main story was satisfying on itself (the present day ends on a sad foregone conclusion), it sets up a sequel with many plot threads going unresolved. It’s disappointing to me since this is a standalone book and Kratman hasn’t indicated any plans on writing a follow-up, though if he did it now I am sure he would have done so without a completely different perspective than the one he has in 2008 and he would have certainly got more material to work with. 

P.S. This book has a Skanderbeg reference, so it’s an instant win for me.

[salmonthestoryteller]

Michael & Alcohol

I wasn't going to address this outside of my author notes for School of Hard Knocks, but then I saw a comment (not on Tumblr) that made me see red, so here we go.

Short Version: I don't view Michael as an alcoholic. I view his alcohol consumption as a mixture of unhealthy coping mechanisms and self-medicating for chronic pain (which is easy to misinterpret as addiction to someone from the outside looking in.)

There's a difference between being an addict and just plain bad life choices. They require different things for recovery - addiction is far more complicated.  And we have already been told we have two addicts that are part of the overall RNM story arc - Rosa Ortecho (who is newly resurrected) and Jim Valenti (who we will no doubt see in flashbacks).

Any and all three (Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Medication/Self-Medication, and Addiction) can overlap in reality, and therefore in storytelling as well. And if Michael becomes an addict in season 2 due to the abrupt healing of his hand, I would be okay with it.  But overall I'd much prefer a "poor life choices" story arc over a "substance addiction" plotline for Michael. It's my preference. It won't be a breaking point or anything if they choose the latter.  I'll live with it. Will I be a little disappointed? NGL, I will. But I'll live with it.

Onto the long version:

I made a mention of it in previous author notes, but since it affects my opinion I'll repeat it. YMMV, but my experience has been that drinking permeates Southwest culture in a way it doesn't other places in the USA.  Look, I am not pulling this out of thin air. I lived in the Southwest for almost twenty years. I have lived almost ten years in the PNW, and a mix of the remaining tenish years between the East Coast and Midwest. The best way I can think to phrase it is this - Drinking is part of the Party Culture in the other areas I have lived. Drinking is part of the Everyday Culture in the Southwest.

And when I watch Roswell New Mexico, I see that portrayed.  I see it in the way there is scene after scene of social drinking.  I see it in the way that alcohol is used as a coping mechanism by pretty much every character.  I see it in the way that it’s casually mentioned Arturo has a tequila stash.  I see it in the way drinking is not treated negatively - as I have seen it done by shows in the past - but treated as just something people do.  They have their hearts broken and they have a drink.  They have an argument with their friends or family and they have a drink.  Their lives were just in danger, time for a drink. They get off work for the day and they - guess what? - have a drink.  

This is why “Michael has a beer in X number of scenes” is not a winning argument to me.  Because when someone says he has a drink in certain scenes, my literal thought is: Yeah, of course.  It’s after work hours.  What’s the big deal?

Then there’s the facts that we are shown his hand causes him pain in two episodes, and that we’re also shown that the aliens use acetone and alcohol in place of pretty much any type of medicine.  To me, it’s an easy leap from there to Michael self-medicating.  Given the extent of his injury and the lack of proper care it received, chronic pain was going to be a given as far as I’m concerned - and we’re also shown and have it verbally acknowledged that his hand has spasms, as well. 2+2 is 4 to me on that one.  He’s not going to get through a day without something to relieve some of the pain.

Now here’s where the unhealthy coping mechanisms come in.  Because while getting drunk to cope with bad things in our lives (or, more accurately, not deal with them for a night) is something indulged in by millions of adults worldwide and probably billions over the centuries, there is a point where it becomes unhealthy.  And, yes, I do think Michael’s use of it reaches that point.

When he’s upset about things, he doesn’t talk about it -  he goes to the Wild Pony and drinks so he has an excuse to start a fight.  When he fights with someone - he drinks.  When he's worried about someone - he drinks.  I don’t think he has an addiction - I think this is all choices.  Most of his drinking, at least what is not social, is after specific, upsetting events.  I see his use of alcohol change during the course of the season.  As these secrets that he’s been holding in are revealed, as he starts to open up to the other characters about past events, as he starts to actually deal with the things he has been using alcohol to cope with, his drinking slows down.

We’re introduced to him in the drunk tank after one of his bar brawls.  He’s at the bar pretty much all day in 01x02 after losing his job and being rejected by Alex.  He’s stealing whole bottles of alcohol from behind Maria’s bar after Alex dumps him and he finds out Liz knows one of them murdered Rosa in 01x04.

But.

We never see him get into a bar brawl or end up in the drunk tank after 01x01.  His drinking socially with the group in 01x09 is clearly not at the same level as his non-stop day drinking in 01x02.  He has one beer with Isobel when they’re speaking in his trailer in 01x10 - one beer is a far cry from the way he was drinking in 01x04.  Then we get whole episodes without him drinking, such as  01x11.

Does he stop drinking altogether?  No.  But, aside from the fact that shitty things are still happening and he’s still self-medicating, that’s where things come back to point one for me.  Drinking is Southwest culture - of course, he goes to the bar after work.  Of course, he cracks open a cold beer after five. That’s pretty much par for the course in day to day life in a small southwestern town.

Michael drinks in 10 episodes, yes.  You know what?

Liz drinks in 9 episodes.

Maria is only in 10 episodes and drinks in 6.

Michael being singled out for being an alcoholic, not by fandom but by canon, would irritate me. The main character went to college and has a white collar job, so she can drink in ¾ of the episodes, including in the middle of the day, and it means nothing. Isobel is rich and privileged so she can literally steal Michael's own acetone infused drink, and have countless bottles of empty acetone lying around her house, but she's good. However, the blue-collar worker with the poor background is an addict because we put a drink in his hand for 10 episodes, even though 7 of them are related to trauma and heartbreak.  Yeah, I pretty much hate it.

The fact that shows always choose the "wrong side of the tracks" character to be the addict reeks of class prejudice to me. It’s a negative stereotype.  They're the “lower class” character, therefore they're an alcoholic.  Like addiction doesn't occur in all social statuses or something.

There are posts out there that literally dismiss Michael’s character as an  “Unemployed Drunk”. Sorry, you can't sell me on the notion that classism isn’t involved in that interpretation of his character.  Not when Liz is unemployed more times than Michael is and drinks almost as much.

So - yes - I would be annoyed by them choosing an addiction story arc for Michael.  Choosing the only “lower social status” character to be the addict when you have a whole cast of other characters to choose from?  I am very against that.  Is it a deal breaker? No, I've put up with far worse things in shows than a single arc I don’t appreciate.  But it is how I feel.

People have a variety of coping mechanisms, unhealthy and healthy.  Michael being able to let go of an unhealthy coping mechanism by learning to open up to others is my preferred version of the plot.  Especially if we get to see him turn to a healthy coping mechanism, like playing music again.  As much as I hate the way his hand was healed against his will, no longer being in pain meaning he no longer needs alcohol or acetone to assist him through the day is also my preference.  And I feel both are capable of being interpreted by canon events just as easily as an addiction.

I do feel the abrupt healing of his hand could lead to an addiction.  He’s used to being in pain, his body is used to having a certain level of acetone/alcohol in it because of the injury.  That suddenly disappearing could really mess up his system. And they could also use it to address that Max healed him without his consent, which would psychologically affect him on top of the physical effects.  But that’s really the only addiction story arc for him that I would truly be fully okay with.