#but i think it just work better as him being a standalone character and another of Bentley's school friends like Zack

[cherrygorilla]

August's Basic Info

Like I said for Zack's post, I really struggled with finding faceclaims for August - maybe even moreso, because I have such a clear idea of what he looks like in my head, and no one I've been able to find fully captures it. I think Kit Connor (first pic) is, again, the closest I'll get - he's the right amount of soft and friendly I need for little August haha - but the others are all at least along the same sort of lines (at least in these pictures I found anyway lol): Peyton Meyer, Connor Jessup and Dylan Sprouse.

Name: August Jude McNeeley

Nicknames: He mainly gets Auggie, but Bentley always calls him Gus - it used to just be Bentley, but since August grew so fond of it, Kona and Zack have started using it more now too. He still likes Auggie though - tbh he likes all variations of his name (I his mom picked well lol)

Age: 14

Date of Birth: September 28th

Zodiac: Libra

Birthstone: Sapphire

Nationality: American and Scottish

Sexuality: Gay - but very much still in the closet and totally not crushing on anyone

Birthplace: His family home in South Pasadena

Current Residence: Island Drive South in South Pasadena, Florida

Occupation: Middle school student and part-time grocery bagger

Talents/Skills: He's weirdly good at long-distance running, he can play the clarinet, he's really good at crosswords, he's a great baker, but he's an even greater listener

Birth Order: Youngest of three

Siblings: Francesca May McNeeley (23) and Hazel June McNeeley (19)

Parents: Jedediah Michael Whitaker (estranged) and Heidi April McNeeley

Signature:

Height: 6' 1'' when fully grown - but for now, probably like 5' 3''. He has a big growth spurt that literally no one saw coming, and becomes a real gentle giant haha. 

Eye Colour: Like a muddy, brown-y green.

Hair Colour: Sandy blonde

Glasses or Contact Lenses: Some round wire-frame glasses he's supposed to wear all the time, but only wears when his eyes feel super strained, because he thinks he looks like a dork in them and actively tries to avoid anything that draws unnecessary attention to him

Distinguishing Features: A chickenpox scar on his forehead, just above his right eyebrow, and a prominent freckle on the corner of his mouth that always gets mistaken for a smear of chocolate. 

Mannerisms: He's SO bad about clenching his jaw/grinding his teeth when he's stressed, he always looks down at his feet when he's walking, and he always does a little snort of air through his nose when he laughs

Health: Anxiety, peanut allergy, and, because of his jaw clenching habit, any time he's anxious (which is quite a lot, poor baby) he gets tension headaches. Also, not really a health thing, but he's a vegetarian.

Hobbies: Baking, creative writing, scrapbook journalling, mediating his friends' arguments, running, reading, watercolour painting (this was mostly thanks to Bentley's influence, but he is enjoying it more than he thought he would), practising the clarinet, and being the voice of reason.

Greatest Flaw (in their opinion): How sensitive he is. Bullies have blamed it on the fact that he was raised by a bunch of girls to become a big sissy - but August just knows he lets his mind hyperfixate on minute details and spiral out of control. Whether it was an embarrassing passing comment he made or a missed homework assignment, he'll work himself into a guilt-riddled state until the rational side of his mind can regain control. It's even worse with more meaningful things though. If anyone says anything bad about him it'll affect him for weeks, and if anyone takes anything he's said badly he'll beat himself up about it for just as long. With how deeply he takes everything to heart though, it often means he's more reluctant to open up about his feelings, and keeps himself pretty closed off as a result - all because he's scared about the reaction he might get. 

Best Quality (in their opinion): His level-headedness. As much as his anxiety can get the better of him, he's gotten a lot better in recent years at keeping it under control. His calm reasoning often ends up benefiting his friends more than it does himself, but that's what makes it so rewarding. He loves getting to help them out in any way he can, and offering advice or talking through their troubles with them gives him a real sense of purpose. He may not be very brave, or very physically strong, but his quiet support from the sidelines is invaluable - especially when he can pick out things in a situation no one else would have thought to before. 

Biggest Fear: Not being accepted. Again, he's really sensitive about what other people think of him, and he really takes their opinions to heart. So the thought of upsetting someone, or doing something that would give them a negative opinion of him is awful. He partly blames it on his dad never really being present in his life, and the fear that, because he knows nothing about him, if he were to come back into it, he wouldn't accept him as his son. But it extends to his peers and friends too - he often stays quiet and tries to do what he can to blend into the background so that he doesn't draw any unnecessary attention to himself that could lead to anyone developing any strong feelings towards him - positive or negative. He just wants to be seen as…normal. But as he's slowly coming to terms with his sexuality, in a time where society is not very accepting of anything but 'the norm', that fear is feeling more and more real every day. 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Favourite Ice Cream Flavour: Birthday cake

Favourite Colour: Sage green

Favourite Number: 2 - 1's too lonely, but at least 2 means you've got a friend

Favourite Movies: Luca, The Muppet Movie, and The War of The Worlds

Favourite Songs: Blackbird by The Beatles, (unironically) Story of My Life by One Direction, Yellow by Coldplay, and God Only Knows by the Beach Boys - and, of course, he was inspired by the Taylor Swift song August, but I felt like that was way too on-the-nose to include as one of his favourite songs lmao

A place they want to visit: Edinburgh, Scotland - to visit his mom's side of the family who live there

[leoneliterary]

(english is not my first language, so I tried to word it the gentlest I could, genuinely curious!)

Is there a reason to why the characters are playersexual? I tend to think playersexual characters are kinda boring, and those who have their own view and experiences with their sexuality feel more personable! Even Desma who could have had a crush on MC since they were young seems to have experience beyond MCs gender. Though I do think it's interesting to explore awakenings, and how the ROs deal with being in love with someone they thought they would never, or even a first love awakening! Thank you for your hard work!

(Thank you! And don't worry, my multilingual friend! More than happy to talk about how I think about these things.)

It's interesting, because I've never found playersexual characters boring, although I didn't really know they were called 'playersexual' until I started writing this and picked up some of the lingo. It's very possible that I'm using the term wrong, but to me, it just means that all the characters are available to be romanced by any MC.

One reason I made the ROs open to being romanced by anyone is to avoid anyone getting locked out of romancing a favorite. You don't feel like you're secretly not their type or that you're a second choice. I think it can make the romance feel more real and genuine, but that's just my personal opinion.

Another reason is because I really don't think too much about the character's sexuality outside the MC, unless it is relevant to the plot. This ties into my writing process as a whole! Under the cut is a pretty detailed analysis of how I write ROs and the MC. Shouldn't be any spoilers, but just in case.

When I come up with a character, I think of them first as a standalone character, and then as a love interest. I imagine the story that I'm telling from their perspective. That tells me their goals within the narrative and how the MC can relate and interact with them. Then I think about how they look from the MC's perspective.

When I think of their life experiences, it's in reference to how they appear in the story. To me, this helps them be more alive and fleshed out. How do they walk, talk, think, etc, and where does that come from. That's where I get some of the more detailed stuff. Laverna is pragmatic because both of her parents are. Sarai is guarded because she's learned the hard way that she has to be. Merikh loves and hates the color blue because it reminds him of home. And so on. These characters need to have things that make you want to know them better and possibly romance them, but they also need to be characters that impact the story, even if you don't romance them.

When it comes to the ROs, I also have to think about the characters falling in love with the MC. The MC has a core character. You play as a person that has felt abandoned, been both lost and found, and that has had to struggle to survive. The three things that attach the MC to the story are the mentors, the guilds, and the heavy hand of destiny. Now the challenge is, now that I've established these narrative rules, how do I make love possible. What does falling in love look like for each RO with the MC? Not just an FMC or an MMC, but also an MC with a high cruel stat or a high warmhearted stat.

All of this is to say that former lovers and experiences in sexuality don't factor heavily into how I develop my characters, at least not all of them. For example, Merikh and Sarai both have a relevant previous experience that contribute to how they respond to intimacy and relationships, so romancing them means that will have to be addressed, but a good chunk of the cast have no previous lovers, meaning their reaction to romantic interest and love will be based more on the pressures they're under and the relationships they've seen.

Hopefully the lack of detail in this area isn't too jarring, but here is my thought process and reasoning behind it!

[readnburied]

A Favorite Book by My Favorite Authors

Okay, so it took a long time for me to finally decide and write this post because I really want to bring a variety of posts to this blog. Though I have a lot of favorite authors, I’ve selected my top few and my favorite book from their works. So here’s a list of my favorite book from my favorite authors. 

Insanity by Cameron Jace

This is book 1 in the series of the same name and follows Alice Wonder who is stationed in an asylum after killing her classmates. Little does Alice know that there’s a world beyond hers where fantasies become a reality and monsters lurk, ready to invade and kill the people of her world. Monsters, only she can slay. 

Though I’m obsessed with the entire series, since I’m only supposed to talk about one book, I chose this one because this is where it all started and I love the setting of Oxford University. 

Zodiac by Romina Russell

This is book 1 in the series of the same name and follows Roma who’s trying to save her planet Cancer from being destroyed. The entire zodiac constellation is in danger and if Roma doesn’t step up and confronts the monster then the entire Zodiac will be on the verge of extinction. 

This is another series I’m obsessed with because of the world that the author created. I love the setting of this book as I’m an astrology and astronomy fan and this series fulfills that need of mine. 

Escape by Nenia Campbell

This is book 4 in the Horrorscape series and follows Gavin and Valerian as they embark on one final game and decide who will be the winner. Who will be the one in control. Rules are broken and people are killed and in the end it’s the prey with the predator. 

Obsession is a small word for what I feel for this series but this is my favorite book in the entire series because I’m in love with the characters and Gavin’s family is just insane. I love how it all ends and I just wish I could read this book for the first time all the time. 

Scorpia Rising by Anthony Horowitz 

This is book 9 in the Alex Rider series and revolves around the life of Alex who is on the lookout for the greatest criminal organization Scorpia for the sole motive of revenge. But when old friends reach out and death threatens to take hold, Alex Rider must do whatever he can to protect the ones he love even if he has to sacrifice himself in the process. 

Though these books are meant for younger readers I personally think these books are timeless and can be enjoyed by any age group. And this is my favorite book in the entire series and so this book is on this list. 

All’s Well by Mona Awad

This is a standalone and revolves around the life of Miranda Fitch who is a drama professor in a college but is envious of practically everyone around her due to all the difficulties she’s facing in terms of her health. When the time comes for the annual play her students want to perform Macbeth while she wants them to perform All’s Well. And when she comes across three generous men who make her an offer she can’t refuse, Miranda’s life takes a turn for the better. She thought her life couldn’t get any better until she realizes that there’s always a price to pay. 

I have yet to read the author’s latest works but of the books I’ve read so far this has been my favorite and I loved the ending and the climax within the story. 

Babel by R. F. Kuang

This is a standalone book and follows the life of Robin and his friends who get admission in the prestigious Oxford University in the translation department. However, they soon encounter problems in terms of racism and competition and Robin needs to figure out what’s important to him and what he’s willing to do to get it. 

This book is so intelligently written that I can’t help but fall in love with it. I loved the writing style and the whole academia setting and I really want everybody to read this book. 

Digital Fortress by Dan Brown 

This is a standalone book and revolves around Susan Fletcher who is a mathematician working with the National Security Agency. But when the Agency comes across a code they cannot break, it is up to Susan to solve the problem. However, when she discovers the danger that threatens to destroy the agency, Susan is caught up in a roller coaster of secrets and betrayal and getting out of it might just kill her and the man she loves. 

I read this book a really long time ago but I remember it to this day. And most importantly, I remember the emotions it invoked within me and I absolutely love a book that can do that. 

Phantom Heart by Kelly Creagh

This is book 1 in the series of the same name and follows the life of Stephanie Armond who has just moved into a new house with her family. She soon comes across rumors regarding the house and she soon realizes that the rumors carry a heavy dose of truth in them. But when she meets Lucas who holds a lot of interest in her house, she has no choice but to accept that the house is haunted, and the man haunting her house is the same one who takes her breath away in her dreams. 

I love this author and all the books by them. And I was having a tough time deciding between this book and Enshadowed, which is book 2 of the Nevermore series. But in the end Erik and his many beautiful masks won my heart and I ended up putting this book on this list. 

And that’s it. These are my favorite books from some of my favorite authors. Let me know if you’ve read any of these books and what you think of them. Do you love them as much as I do or not? 

[spiteless-xo]

╰┈➤ family - tbaw. ⋙ an alternate version of eren's backstory

why was it deleted. it didn't fit in with the existing chapter 28 reveal of eren's backstory and it's too short to be a standalone chapter. this is eren's true backstory, but reader only knows what she was told in his version from their date. what changed. nothing. ft. eren, zeke, jean, armin, floch, fem!reader. cw. explicit language, mention of canonical character death, coping with loss and grief, toxic masculinity, disparaging comments about women, angst. 3,916 words.

Please consider this supplemental information to complement Eren's retelling of his life to Reader in Chapter 28. This is not necessary to read to understand the story but might add some additional detail and context to what was revealed.

context. None needed.

Eren’s mom passed away when he was seventeen.

It was supposed to be a routine surgery. She was getting a lump checked out in her stomach — just a routine biopsy procedure. But due to complications, she didn’t make it through the night.

Eren was distraught — how could this happen? His father was a doctor, he should’ve been able to save her. But instead, he wasn’t even in the city when the procedure was happening. He was away for work at the Marley General Hospital instead of in Paradis with his wife.

He didn’t come home for another week after the death of Carla Jaeger. Eren was left to make arrangements for his mother’s funeral service with the help of Armin’s grandfather. By the time Grisha Jaeger returned to Paradis, Carla was already in the ground.

Eren didn’t understand why Grisha didn’t care — why he wasn’t around for the woman he supposedly loved, but it quickly became clear when Grisha began to pack up their home.

“We’re moving to Marley,” he had explained, like it was obvious. “There’s nothing here for us.”

“What about school? My friends?” Eren asked, throat raw from screaming. “Where were you?”

“I was with my family,” he said, not even looking away from the clothes he was stuffing into boxes. “You’re coming with me, Eren.”

Eren refused. Instead, bouncing between Armin and Jean’s homes for the rest of high school and then moving into the dorms at Paradis University after graduation. His best friends kept him breathing — reminded him to eat and sleep and bathe after losing both of his parents.

But they just didn’t understand him.

Eren met Zeke for the first time just outside of the stadium on his way out after a game. Zeke was cloaked in shadows, smoking outside of the rink as he called Eren to come close.

“Uh… hi?” Eren said, stepping into the darkness. His hands felt clammy in his pockets and he started feeling nervous about venturing away from his friends like this, but there was just something about Zeke that drew him in.

“Eren,” he said, speaking around the cigarette in his mouth. “Do you know who I am?”

Eren shook his head in response and sucked his cheek into his mouth, chewing on it in thought.

“I’m Zeke.” Eren felt his blood run cold. “Zeke Jaeger.”

“Oh,” Eren said, and he looked down at his feet to kick at the pavement with the toe of his shoe. “Ok.”

“You don’t seem shocked. Have you heard of me?”

“Kind of.”

Zeke took a long drag from his cigarette, breathing the smoke out into the air between them before speaking again. “I’d like to get to know you better, Eren.”

“Why’s that?”

“I think we have a lot in common.”

Eren snorted. “Well, I guess we both came from the same ballsack.”

Zeke didn’t seem amused.

After a long period of silence, Eren spoke again. “What do you want?”

“We were both victims of your father.”

Eren shrugged, still looking away from Zeke’s intense gaze. He felt small and weak, like a child, despite them being the same height. There was just something about Zeke that felt large and imposing — almost threatening.

“It isn’t your fault that we were born to that disgusting monster of a man. We are but pitiful victims,” Zeke explained, taking another long drag, “You need someone to rescue you, Eren.”

Eren felt his heart twisting in his chest and he looked up at Zeke through his hair.

“I will not abandon you like he did,” Zeke continued. “Let me show you what I’ve learned.”

Zeke reached out to touch him and Eren felt a surge of electricity shooting from Zeke’s fingertips into Eren’s skin. “I’m the only person that can understand you, Eren.”

Zeke’s advice was toxic — Eren knew that. But Eren was lonely and it felt good to connect with someone who understood him in a way that none of his other friends did. His other friends didn’t understand what it felt like to feel like this — so hollow and empty — all the time.

Armin was the only other person that Eren could relate to, but Eren’s wounds were fresh and Armin’s were long scabbed over. Eren felt guilty making Armin relive the trauma of his parents’ death just to make him feel better.

So, he spent a lot of time talking to Zeke. Learning his ideologies and his perspectives on life. Eren didn’t necessarily believe in all of them, but it was easier to let Zeke take him under his wing than to resist and be alone, again.

Zeke’s advice to fill the gaping hole in Eren’s chest was to fill it with women. To use their bodies for sexual gratification and validation. Eren was always popular with girls at school, but after becoming close with Zeke, he became a terror.

Eren’s gaze changed when he entered a party. Instead of being bright and excited, it was now dark and stormy — like a predator hunting its prety. Eren would duck away from all of his friends during the night, find some cute girl with a short skirt and a low-cut top, and then take her with him into a bedroom until he had his fill.

The first few times, it felt good.

Eren felt wanted. He felt appreciated. And most importantly — he didn’t feel lonely.

But the more women he slept with and the closer he became with Zeke, it became harder and harder to chase that high. It wasn’t working anymore.

He couldn’t even return to the warmth of friendship with his group from high school anymore, things just felt too different. Armin was busy all of the time with school, so he rarely got to see him, and Jean had become closer to Connie and Sasha. Eren didn’t just feel lonely anymore, he felt abandoned.

So, he spent more time with people who thought the way he did — the way Zeke did. He found himself growing closer to some of the other guys on the Scouts, the Devils, they called themselves. Eren didn’t feel as lonely when he was with them. There was a sense of camaraderie he felt that he didn’t have with his other friends, but it still all revolved around women.

How many women they could sleep with. How many nudes they had on their phone. How many matches they had on Tinder.

Eren was attractive and popular, so it was easy to get attention. And the more attention he got from girls, the more that the Devils wanted to be with him. It made him feel valued — it made him feel wanted.

Jean was the first to notice his change in the behaviour.

Jean didn’t think anything of it at first. There was nothing wrong with wanting to hook up with a cute girl at a party, Jean was guilty of doing that himself sometimes — but Eren was starting to do it at every single party.

Even during the weekdays when they were studying together at the library, Jean would look over at Eren’s phone and see some dating app open. It was unusual, but Jean didn’t think it was a problem until it was too late.

He caught Eren and Floch talking quietly together in the locker room after practice one night, and he couldn’t help but step in when he saw Floch pulling out his phone.

“What are you guys doing?” Jean asked and the two boys froze like deer caught in the headlights, but Eren relaxed quickly, realizing it was only Jean.

“It’s cool, man, come over here.”

Wary, Jean approached cautiously, standing next to Floch so him and Eren could peer down at Floch’s phone.

“Look at the messages this chick is sending me,” Floch said and he scrolled through his text conversation with a girl. Jean recognized her name — she was in one of his classes — she was sweet and nice, but the things she was saying were absolutely filthy.

“Jesus, Floch,” Jean groaned, taking a step away. “That’s private, you shouldn’t be showing us.”

“Oh, come on,” Eren goaded, clicking his tongue. “She wouldn’t be saying this shit if she didn’t want the whole team to know.”

Eren grabbed Floch’s phone out of his hand and cleared his throat dramatically before reading out one of the messages in a comically high voice. “Ohhh, Floch! I'm soooo wet! I can't stop thinking about your big, fat cock!”

Eren and Floch erupted into laughter as Jean looked over at them in disgust. “What the fuck? Guys. She’s a nice girl, she wouldn’t be happy if she found out you were sharing her messages.”

“There’s no such thing as a nice girl, Jean,” Eren scoffed. “All of them just wanna suck and fuck — I guarantee it.”

The vulgarity of Eren’s words had Jean recoiling in shock. “What?”

“It’s human biology,” Eren explained as Floch nodded along emphatically. “Girls wanna get fucked and guys wanna do the fucking — you can’t fight it.” He gestured toward Floch’s phone as Jean looked over at them in horror. “Once Floch’s done with her, you can have a turn, too.”

“She’s a solid eight in bed,” Floch added.

“What is wrong with you?” Jean asked, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, this was all so out of character from the Eren he knew growing up. “Why are you saying stuff like that?”

“It’s the truth,” Floch said and Jean blinked at him in confusion.

Eren nudged Floch in the side, drawing his attention before loudly whispering, “Jean hasn’t met Zeke, yet.”

“Who’s Zeke?”

Eren approached Jean, palms up in a non-threatening manner. “Do you ever notice how women are attracted to wealth and power? You probably saw that a lot growing up, with your dad.”

Jean bristled, clenching his jaw tightly as he watched Eren take another step closer.

“Women don’t care what you look like or how nice you are or how smart you are,” Eren explained. “They only care about how you can provide for them.”

“And what exactly are you providing for them, Eren?” Jean spat, eyes narrowing.

“I’m on the hockey team,” Eren said. “Just like you and just like Floch — we can offer these girls access to the coolest parties. It’s a jump in social status to be seen with guys like us.”

Jean opened his mouth to argue, but Eren cut him off by continuing. “You must’ve noticed it by now, right? The girls that throw themselves at us, who write our jersey number on their tits — they want us, Jean.”

“I don’t really pay attention,” Jean admitted, feeling uncomfortable as Eren drew closer. “You know I don’t like that shit — I don’t like hooking up.”

“Right. You want a girlfriend,” Eren scoffed and Floch laughed from somewhere behind him. “If you really want a girlfriend, you better hope you find a virgin, because women can’t pair bond after having sex with multiple men.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jean countered, taking another step back. “Who told you this shit?”

“She’s not your girl, Jean. It’s just your turn,” Eren said finally with a shrug, as if that was sufficient to convince Jean.

Instead, Jean snapped back. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you even hear what you’re saying right now?”

“You should talk to Zeke,” Floch chimed in. “He explains it really well.”

“Who’s Zeke?” Jean repeated, brows furrowing.

“Jean wouldn’t understand,” Eren said over his shoulder to Floch. “He’s not like us.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Jean hissed. “Stop acting like this — this isn’t you.”

“Don’t act like you understand me, Jean,” Eren snapped, frowning. “You don’t get it. You never will.”

“Help me, then,” Jean pleaded, voice dropping to a whisper as he stepped in toward Eren. “Help me understand what’s going on, Eren.”

But Eren rolled his eyes and walked back to Floch.

Zeke treated women like they were his little playthings. He was smart enough to target innocent girls, barely legal girls, virgin girls — because they were so susceptible to his manipulation. All Zeke had to do was tell them how they were so mature for their age — how they weren’t like their peers — how he’s never felt this way about anyone else… and they were putty in his hands.

Eren was no better, sleeping with women he met at parties — charming them into falling in love with him just enough that they would let him into their bedrooms. He was guilty of going after pretty little virgins too, sometimes — but they were often too much work and Eren usually found himself bored with the chase.

Where Eren left a trail of broken hearts, Zeke left a wasteland of broken people — people who were so dependent on him, caught up in his snare of abuse and degradation, thinly veiled behind sickly sweet words.

The first time Eren met one of Zeke’s victims, he was horrified. She was a first-year at the university that Zeke taught at — she was one of his students.

Eren was staying at Zeke’s apartment for the weekend so the two brothers could prowl for girls together at the bar and she had stopped by in the middle of the night, moments after Eren had sent his girl home in an Uber.

He answered the door to find an impossibly tall girl, hunched over and sobbing, begging to see Zeke. Alarmed, Eren rushed to go find his brother to go comfort her, but he told Eren to turn her away.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Zeke hissed, speaking around the small blonde bouncing on his lap. Eren kept his eyes on the ceiling to avoid looking at the two.

“Dude, she’s crying. Just come out and talk to her.”

Zeke huffed, tossing the girl onto the bed before pulling on a pair of sweatpants from the ground. He walked past Eren to the doorway of the apartment as Eren quietly followed behind him.

“Yes?” Zeke asked, clearly annoyed.

“Zeke — you haven’t answered any of my calls… any of my messages. I just want to make sure you aren’t mad at me.”

“Oh, I am,” he spat, and even Eren flinched. “What do you think you’re doing, showing up at my place in the middle of the night?”

“I was worried, Zeke, I —”

“Can’t you see I’m a grown man? I don’t need you to worry about me. If I wanted to reach out to you, I would have.”

“Did I do something wrong? I just —”

“Yes, you did a lot of things wrong, in fact,” he hissed. “Calling me when I told you not to. Showing up here. Talking to me during class when I explicitly told you that we aren’t to be seen together in public.”

“I’m sorry, I just —”

“Don’t apologize. I’m tired of constantly having to babysit you. You need to leave.”

“Zeke, I —”

He slammed the door shut in her face with a huff, turning to look at Eren with a shake of his head. “I need a cigarette,” he laughed, reaching for the box in his pocket before pulling out one. “Join me?”

Eren trailed after Zeke to the balcony, watching as Zeke lit up the smoke and took a long drag. 

“What was wrong with that girl?” Eren asked quietly and Zeke shrugged.

“I was bored of her.”

“Did you need to be so mean?”

Zeke glanced at Eren from the corner of his eye, elbows resting on the ledge of the balcony before taking another long drag. “Did seeing that upset you?” he asked condescendingly.

Eren shook his head, but he knew Zeke could see right through him.

“You’re upset because she was crying? Is that it?” Zeke probed, breathing smoke out of his nostrils. “Haven’t you seen a girl cry before?”

“Not like that,” Eren said quietly. 

“You think the women that you kick out of your bedroom in the middle of the night aren’t crying in the backseat of their Ubers?” Zeke challenged, quirking up a brow. “That the women whose virginities you take don’t cry when you ignore their messages the next day?”

Eren frowned, looking away from Zeke and toward the city.

“Nothing to say to that?” Zeke chuckled, and Eren remained quiet. “Don’t act like what I’m doing is wrong when you’re guilty of the same, Eren.”

Eren looked down at his hands, interlaced together as he rested his forearms on the ledge of the balcony. He chewed on his cheek for a moment, considering Zeke’s words and what he saw earlier this evening, and he nodded.

“You’re right.”

Armin didn’t ask questions when Eren showed up at his dorm in the early hours of the morning. He just stepped aside and let Eren into his room, watching him shrug off his jacket before crawling under the blankets of Armin’s bed.

Armin crawled in behind him, laying next to Eren as the two boys looked up at the ceiling. They stayed quiet for a long time together before Eren finally spoke.

“Zeke’s an asshole.”

Armin snorted.

“I don’t want to be like them,” Eren whispered. “Like Zeke and Dad…”

“You don’t have to be,” Armin says quietly into the darkness. “Not anymore.”

Eren sighed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Everything fucking sucks, Armin.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Eren said. “I just want to forget.”

“No, you don’t.”

Eren frowned, pulling his hands away from his face to look over at Armin beside him. 

“I know it hurts a lot, right now,” Armin said, “but trust me — you don’t want to forget about her. Not the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume… all of her little quirks, and all the memories you have of her… hold on to them.

“You’re going to grieve for the rest of your life,” Armin continued. “There’s no such thing as getting over it. Some days are going to be worse than others: Mother’s Day, Christmas, birthdays… but you’ll learn to live with it. You’ll heal and keep living… Carla wouldn’t want anything less from you,” Armin said.

“Yeah,” Eren croaked, his voice strained. “Do you think she knew?”

“About what?”

“About Dad’s other family,” Eren said with a shaky breath. “I hope she didn’t… it would’ve broken her heart.”

Armin said nothing, just reaching a hand out to interlace his fingers with Eren’s. 

Eren gave Armin a small squeeze but turned his head to look back at the ceiling. In the dull light from the rising sun outside, Armin could see streaks of tears running from the corner of Eren’s eye to his ear and the way Eren kept chewing his lip — but he said nothing.

It had been almost four years since Carla Jaeger passed away, three years since Eren first met Zeke, and almost a year since Eren was last in Armin’s dorm.

Eren had never spoken to Armin about how the death of his mom affected him. Even when Eren was staying with Armin and his grandpa, he wouldn’t say anything about it — just plaster a fake smile on his face during school before curling into himself under the blankets back at home.

Jean mentioned to Armin that Eren would do the same thing when he stayed at the Kirstein’s.

After meeting Zeke, Eren didn’t hide away in his bed anymore — atleast, not alone. His smile still seemed fake and forced, but he kept pushing his friends away to the point where it felt futile to try to crack his shell.

Armin tried to be there for Eren, tried to make sure that Eren still knew he could rely on him, but it was challenging when every interaction between Eren and Jean turned into an argument. Armin was growing tired of playing referee and Jean refused to listen to reason.

“Eren is disgusting,” Jean would say. “Why are you wasting your time trying to help him?”

“He’s our friend,” Armin pleaded, “he needs our help.”

“He doesn’t want our help.”

Eren was trying to force his friends away, couldn’t Jean see that? Armin begged Jean to be patient with him, to be understanding, but even he struggled to speak to Eren sometimes once he started reciting Zeke’s misogynistic talking points.

After Eren and Jean’s big fight, Eren distanced himself completely from everyone who wasn’t a part of Zeke’s group chat: The Devils of Paradis.

Armin watched from the sidelines as Eren kept forcing a smile on his face and tried to fill the ache in his chest with a different woman every weekend. Armin worried that he lost his best friend forever.

But now, having Eren lay beside him in bed like they used to do as kids — Armin felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

“She would’ve hated Zeke,” Eren laughed, but his body shook like he was sobbing. “She’d be really disappointed in me.”

“She would’ve forgiven you,” Armin said. He could feel the strain in his chest and the tears burning behind his eyes and he squeezed Eren’s hand a little tighter. “Everyone deserves forgiveness.”

“Even me?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work, cutie,” Eren teased, pulling up in front of your home and rolling his vehicle to a stop.

You frowned at him, unbuckling your seatbelt before sticking your tongue out at him playfully. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Eren leaned forward, cupping your face in his hand before you could run away, and gently brushed your cheek with his thumb. You still had tearstains on your cheeks from earlier when you were crying and his heart twisted at the sight.

“Don’t let this job get to you,” he said quietly.

He thought about kissing you. He thought about asking if he could come inside and spend the night with you. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and cradle you tight against his chest until you stopped looking so hurt and crushed.

It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, and Eren found himself frowning and pulling his hand back and away from your face.

“Thanks, Eren,” you said, before slinking out of the car and running back into your home.

Eren watched you duck inside, sitting idle in his car until he saw the door close behind you and the front porch light turn off. He dug into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out his phone, flipping open an unread text message from Floch from earlier that evening.

Floch you goin to see jean’s roommate again? lmk if she’s gotten any better in bed looool

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment as he looked down at the screen. He had been sending Floch ratings of your performance during sex for the past while since the two of you started hooking up — even after cutting things off with Zeke, some habits stuck.

It was just for fun. It was just words — nobody was getting hurt. At least, that’s how Eren rationalized it.

Eren’s phone vibrated in his hand as another message appeared.

Floch and when u sending those nudes? i wanna see her tits

Eren frowned down at his phone, feeling heat rush through his body from Floch’s words and he quickly typed up a response.

Eren fuck off dude

[samobservessonic]

We join the Freedom Fighters on the tail end of a successful mission, but what’s most intriguing about this issue is right there in the title box. While we’ve had a story from Lew Stringer already over in the poster mags, this is his first story in the main book. Not only that, but this story is called “Metamorphia” and if you have even a casual interest in StC, you’ve probably heard of this addition to the rogues’ gallery, who Stringer is about to introduce us to

Amy shoots her shot and gets shot down, as this bear mobian asks Sonic for help. Now, you might think they’re playing the old “Sonic ignores Amy in favour of another girl” card but as I’ve pointed out a few times already, Sonic is just really invested in helping civilians and shows them a kindness that he doesn’t seem to show his own team. Maybe it’s that he feels his team can handle him for being the asshole he is? But that’s besides the point right now

Also, I’m not going to beat about the bush with this. I’m sure you’ve probably already guessed that, with the villain in the title being a play on the word “metamorph”, this bear isn’t who she’s claiming to be

Amy might not be able to read the title, but she also gets bad vibes from this stranger and Tails agrees with her. But Sonic passes off these concerns as jealousy and is quick to head on his way, leaving the two of them behind

Yeah, sure, this looks like the safest zone I’ve ever seen

Sonic shares this sentiment and while he looks away, our damsel in distress suddenly looks a lot more sinister…

They get attacked by soldier badniks (I tend to call them Troopers, but I’m not sure if they’re actually called that?) and while Sonic thinks they’re the most dangerous thing here, he’s seconds away from being proven wrong

Here she is, Metamorphia! She introduces herself and her home, the Grim Zone, with Sonic having to admit that Amy & Tails were right not to trust her

Metamorphia transforms into a gas to knock Sonic out and like, damn, I know shapeshifter characters are often OP, but that’s pretty OP! Not that I’m complaining at all, since it’s always good to have more powerful threats on the villains’ side. Though unlike Captain Plunder, it turns out that Metamorphia is another agent working for Robotnik

Sonic wakes up in a some kind of prison cube, but it doesn’t even take him a few seconds after Metamorphia explains how it works for him to bust out of it lmao

Metamorphia escapes and Tails shows up, but I’m sure we can all figure out that Tails hasn’t suddenly developed the ability to back-talk Sonic

There’s something so funny about the villain being so blatant as to say “take a look over that cliff”. Also, I guess Metamorphia really hates Bluey. That’s my headcanon now

Sonic was about as fooled by her disguise as we were and leaves Metamorphia to her fate. Turns out that even if she can turn into a gas, she can’t mimic Tails’s ability to fly

I had wondered if Sonic would eat humble pie when he got back to Amy & Tails, but nope, he’s vague about what happened. Amy saying “Did your new girlfriend chuck you” is yet another reminder of exactly how British these characters sound. Meanwhile, our story ends on the confirmation that Metamorphia lives to see another day and we’ll certainly be seeing her again in future

Now, like the previous issue, this was a standalone story setting up lore to pull from in future. But I have to confess that I enjoyed this one a lot more. Even if I didn’t have much to say, I felt like there was a lot more stuff I wanted to hold up and go “Look at this!” Which isn’t me saying that I think Stringer is a better writer than Kitching by any means - both of them have wonderful stories that I enjoy and you wouldn’t have StC without either writer. But this was a strong start for Stringer and I’m looking forward to more

As for Metamorphia, I just like girl villains, so I’m obviously looking forward to her comeback. Having started reading StC with issue 80, the only story I saw of Metamorphia was the end of her character arc and the final story she appears in (which actually ends up being a Tails solo story), so I’m looking forward to seeing how her journey plays out before she gets to that final destination

[infatuate]

9 book recs meme! tagged by @roobylavender; ty faatima <3333. this ended up being longer than i wanted it to be but oh well

the bloody chamber & other stories - angela carter

angela carter quotes get circulated out of context on this site every 2-3 business days but i really do think everyone should tap into the bloody chamber at least once. i have written many a paper on this book & each time i uncovered some new aspect i had previously overlooked but which carter hadn't. i'm not sure what i could say about it that hasn't already been said; this is one of the best fairytale anthologies out there, period. not to mention, those quotes are so much better in context.

decreation: poetry, essays, opera - anne carson

the first book of carson's essays/poetry i ever read cover to cover after crashing against plainwater hard when i was like 16. decreation is very aptly named - it's disjointed & deconstructed & more than a little strange, moving from subject to subject, essay to poem to play to opera and back again, but it managed to capture my attention the way none of carson's other works did. decreation is a journey through the self (through sleep & the subconscious, the spirit & God) that doesn't really arrive anywhere but is worth reading for the journey. aside from showing me just what could be done with form, it also introduced to me to marguerite porete, who became my own personal medieval mystic-martyr special interest. i've since read a lot of carson, but i still think decreation is her most interesting (& maybe underrated?) work.

violence & the sacred - rene girard

a solid 75% of my essays in my last two years of undergrad used this text as scaffolding of some sort. even when i wasn't writing about violence, sacrifice, or mimesis, i was thinking about it. this is a dense book of theory that flies by because everything girard is saying is simultaneously insane & so so compelling. other people have if you're interested in rituals, the societal function of violence, the origins of the word scapegoat, or you just want to find a new jumping off point for your own thoughts on any of these topics, i think you would find violence & the sacred a really fascinating text.

the children of húrin - j.r.r. tolkien

i read the children of húrin directly after reading the hobbit at age 14; i wanted another 'short' 'standalone' tolkien book to read before diving into the lord of the rings or the silmarillion. (i clearly did not know anything about tolkien at this point in my life.) but i don't regret it at all, because it's probably the best thing he's ever written. CoH is, for the most part, about the tragic life of túrin son of húrin & how the curse on his family dooms him & everyone he crosses paths with. the tighter focus on túrin's various fuck-ups and miseries is more intimate, more detailed, and more character-driven unlike a lot of tolkien's first age work. it's also the darkest thing tolkien's written, in my opinion; this is his longest most extended greek tragedy moment & he leans into it 100%. hubris, unintentional incest, accidental murder, suicide - the children of húrin has it all. túrin turambar you will always be famous!

a master of djinn - p. djeli clark

this is my favorite new fantasy read of the last couple of years. i went into thinking i wouldn't like it at all—it's set in an edwardian-era alternate history magical steampunk cairo, for one—but clark's writing is incredibly immersive. he's very skilled at reimagining history in a way that both makes perfect sense & is wildly inventive. i thought some of its critiques of colonialism were a little shallow but otherwise it was fun. and lesbian! the main character is a dapper muslim butch, and while i'm not usually a 'representation for its own sake' kind of person, i couldn't help but be obsessed with fatma. it helps that it has a more refined perspective on islam compared to virtually any other muslim/arab fantasy novel i've ever read (this is not a high bar). a master of djinn comes with not one, but two short stories set in the same universe, so you can check out clark's writing for free & see how you like it.

as meat loves salt - maria mccann

this one was recommended to me by a twitter mutual almost 2 years ago and i haven't reread it since, but i think about it frequently anyways. it's a historical fiction novel set during the english civil war, following jacob cullen, a man initially of gentle birth who becomes a servant who becomes a soldier in the parliamentary army. characterizing it beyond that gets tricky; how do you properly describe the completely insane depths of rage, lust, love, & obsession that mccann plumbs? as meat loves salt is for the hannigram girls, the heathcliff/cathy girls, the girls who enjoy devotion & obsession going hand in unlovable hand. major tws for rape & violence, & i don't think i could read it again unless i was in the right headspace, but this one is really good.

ship of magic - robin hobb

i could have put any robin hobb book here, because i do think everyone should read robin hobb at least once. especially if you have even a passing interest in fantasy. ship of magic made the final cut because it's the perfect beginning for anyone who might be turned off by the slow character study that is the farseer trilogy. liveship traders is more fast-paced with a rotating cast of v unique characters and the best villain she's ever put to paper. it has talking ships, terrible parenting even for a fantasy book, representation for awful horrible teenage girls with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, & a truly original take on dragons.

beowulf: a new verse translation - seamus heaney

when i decided to minor in medieval studies, beowulf was at least 60% of the reason. i read the r.m. liuzza broadview translation for class (which i love, to be clear), but my prof recommended that we go read heaney's translation anyways, because it's both a good translation of beowulf & an exercise in poetic brilliance. to me, heaney's beowulf feels less like a translation & more like a free-verse poem he wrote while possessed by the spirit of a 7th century scop. i know there are better, more accurate/faithful translations, but this one has a spirit to it that's difficult to find elsewhere. honestly it's worth reading for the introduction alone.

the fortune men - nadifa mohamed

my token contemporary non-fiction fiction novel of the past couple of years. i'm always rooting for everyone somali but also? nadifa mohamed is just a great writer. this novel is set in 1950s cardiff, wales, and dramatizes the true story of mahmood hussein mattan, a somali man who was wrongfully executed for the murder of lily volpert. mohamed approaches the events with so much empathy for both victims and the extensive research she did shines through at every moment. the consistency and conviction and clarity of her writing will convince you that, even if you don't know anything about the city or the time period or the events unfolding, she definitely does. she was kinda robbed for the booker but that's just my opinion.

tagging @derelictship; @misericordae; @hesitationss; @yevrosima-the-third; @gawayne; @butchniqabi & anyone else who wants to do it!

[newpathwrites]

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

There Was Only One Bed (prequel)

But the bunk was another story. You had been just a little bit terrified over the prospect of sharing a bed with a man - one you barely knew. He seemed trustworthy, but he was a man still, and you hadn’t had the greatest experience with those. But his initial insistence on not sleeping in the bunk with you set your mind at ease a bit. In fact, he seemed more terrified than you were at the idea, probably worried again about his creed. Maker, this man had trust issues.

Summary: There was only one bunk… and it turns out that makes Din exponentially more nervous than it does you…

In the early days of your partnership, you and Din get to know each other better.

Note: This can be read as a standalone. This prequel turns the “there was only one bed” trope on its aroace head - inspired by an aromantic Tumblr prompt by @aro-rambles. What do two aroace work partners do when they must share a bed? - talk all night!

We’re going back now to the beginning of their partnership where they’re still getting to know each other and aren’t thinking this will be a long-term arrangement. Maybe this conversation is the turning point… where respect and collegiality blossoms into friendship and affection.

Warnings: None.

Read on AO3

————————————————————————

The last handful of weeks had been… weird… to say the least.  But your temporary Mandalorian partner proved to be a better decision than you’d initially thought once the haze of liquor that had colored your first and only extended conversation in the cantina the night before wore off, leaving you in a state of dread over what you’d done.  The Mandalorian!?  What were you thinking?

  But Din Djarin was not at all what you imagined - certainly not the bloodthirsty, armored monster portrayed in myth… or in the rumors passed around the guild of the man himself.  Din was endlessly polite and respectful, even if unnervingly quiet at times - and while he was very good at what he did, you quickly recognized a propensity for kindness, hidden behind annoyed sighs and sarcastic quips.  A walking contradiction - but one you were beginning to understand.

  Din had been almost comically stiff and awkward when he arrived at your ship that very first morning, and you realized that the alcohol had probably loosened him up, too, when you’d both shared your troubles and planned this temporary partnership the previous evening.

  “Uhhh… We need to discuss something… I was a little… drunk… last night… I wasn’t thinking…”

  You nodded sympathetically.  “Yeah, same… What’s on your mind?”

  He hesitated, fumbling over his posture a bit before settling his hands on his hips.  “My name… I don’t usually share it… It’s just… Please don’t use it in front of others…”

  “Oh,” you started.  This was really the last thing you’d thought he’d be worried about, but what did you know of Mandalorian culture?  He’d shared his name freely yesterday, albeit while a bit inebriated.  “It’s ‘Mando’ in public.  You have my word.”

  He nodded.  “Thank you… You also understand that I can’t show my face, right?  It’s important.”

  Now this, you already knew.  Everyone knew, really, because no one had ever seen it.

  “Of course, Din.  Don’t worry - I have the utmost respect for your creed… and your weapons…”

  He paused for a second, not accustomed to people joking with him this way.  But it earned a very small chuckle - and that sure felt like an accomplishment.  

  You’d find later that the man wasn’t nearly as serious as he first seemed, delivering dry, sarcastic jokes at random in a monotone that had you guessing for a moment if he was being earnest or making fun.  Somehow that seemed very him, and you delighted in learning his various character traits - each more surprising than the last.

  And despite the anonymity and rigid adherence to his creed, it became clear that he was just a person like anyone else - a kind and respectful one, who just happened to be ridiculously skilled in fighting… but he was maybe a little bit sad and lonely, too, if you were reading him correctly.  He actually seemed to genuinely enjoy your company, and you hadn’t expected that from somebody so quiet and closed off.

  Tension around the helmet, though, remained ever present.  Clearly, trust was a difficult thing for him.  He would not eat or drink in your presence, even if you offered to turn around.  The first few times he even engaged the security system in the cockpit.  He relaxed a bit eventually, leaving the door simply shut, and one day, he even agreed to keep it slightly propped open so that you could discuss the particulars of an upcoming job, granted you faced the other way.  Okay… he just needed some time to learn to trust you…. That habit, at least, stuck, and you were beginning to really enjoy your dinner conversations, even if they focused primarily on work.  

  But the bunk was another story.  You had been just a little bit terrified over the prospect of sharing a bed with a man - one you barely knew.  He seemed trustworthy, but he was a man still, and you hadn’t had the greatest experience with those.  But his initial insistence on not sleeping in the bunk with you set your mind at ease a bit.  In fact, he seemed more terrified than you were at the idea, probably worried again about his creed.  Maker, this man had trust issues.

  “Din, people our age need sleep.  The bed is plenty big enough for two.  I swear I will not lay a hand on your helmet.  And if you’d like to take it off, we can cut all the lights, and I’ll face the wall.  I promise you that I sleep like the dead.”

  He tilted his visor then, regarding you.  “And how would you know how old I am?”

  You chuckled - he was always suspicious.  “Well, we started in the guild around the same time, so I imagine we’re around the same age… Most join in their late teens, early twenties, so...  Forty-ish?  Am I right?”

  He sighed - you got him there.  “Yeah…”

  —-----------------

  Din did sleep in the bunk.  Well, the first few nights, he nervously laid awake instead, awaiting the moment you’d try to remove his helmet.  But that moment never came, and each morning, he’d find you facing the wall as promised… So finally, about a week in, he allowed himself to fall into slumber.  It was honestly the best sleep he’d ever had - unused to a real mattress and a reliably functioning ship that didn’t alarm at him all night.

  But after a few weeks of well-rested bliss, he couldn’t help feeling that it might be nice to sleep without the helmet - and maybe fewer pieces of armor - to fully enjoy this indulgence while he had the chance.  But the idea of spending an entire night helmetless in the presence of another person, however trustworthy, was absolutely terrifying, even in this pitch black room.  He had never done such a vulnerable thing.

  Din wasn’t sure why he was so terrified.  You’d given him no reason not to trust you, and your high ethical standards were well known amongst the guild - a subject of ridicule mostly, as you lost out on lucrative jobs, but a strong point in your favor as far as Din was concerned.  And anyway, what would you have to gain from violating his creed?  Besides, you’d made it abundantly clear that you didn’t much care to sacrifice life or limb to satisfy a curiosity.  His identity was clearly safe with you.

  For Maker’s sake, he was a Mandalorian. Why would he fear this incredibly respectful and unfailingly kind person who was allowing a stranger in need to stay in their ship and sleep in their bunk?  This was probably the least terrifying thing he would ever do. Alright, he was going to do it… maybe not tonight… but soon…

  It took a few nights to fully work up the nerve, but he’d decided - tonight, it was happening. Kriff… he was nervous.  He should have had the kid teach him that meditation thing.  It felt like his heart might beat out of his chest.  But he took a deep breath and stepped into the bunk anyway, shutting the door behind him to keep out the light.

  You were already tucked in, facing the wall as always, though probably still awake.  He flipped off the night vision - pitch black… good.  Letting out a long puff of air to calm his nerves, he sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots and remove his weapons before bringing his hands to each side of his helmet and pulling it off quickly, before he had a chance to overthink and stall any further.

  The panic rose immediately at the nakedness of his face, just a little, but your silhouette remained unchanged, still facing the wall, so he settled himself facing the opposite - just in case - and attempted to calm down.

  But dank farrik… he just couldn’t turn his brain off.  His breath was picking up now, audible in the otherwise silent room, and that only made his anxiety more acute.  He was just about ready to grab his helmet and put it back on his head - consider this a failed experiment.  But your voice cut through the chaos - 

  ——————————

  Holy kriff … he took the helmet off…

  As much as you wanted him to feel comfortable, you really never thought he would actually do it.  And now that he had, the sound of his unfiltered breathing just a few feet from you as he settled on the mattress, the pressure to ensure his face remained protected became very, very real.  One slip-up, and you’d destroy a man’s life… and maybe lose your own - if he was the vengeful type.

  How could you possibly sleep - knowing his bare face was literally right next to you?  You were paralyzed, afraid to move a single muscle, lest he know you were still awake.  But why?  Dank farrik, you didn’t know how to react right now - the whole thing just felt so weird.

  But then his breath picked up, accelerating every few seconds, like he was panicking.  You couldn’t let him suffer like that when he’d taken such a significant step, clearly an anxiety-producing one.  What if he gave up and put the helmet back on?  He deserved a night of sleep free of its confines.

  “Relax, Din.  You're going to give yourself a stroke.”

  He let out a long exhale, almost relieved, as your words interrupted his building panic and allowed him to turn his focus elsewhere.

  “Sorry… I’ve never slept without the helmet in another person’s presence before.  It’s a little…”. He paused, trying to think of the right word.

  “Scary?” you offered, grinning to yourself at your word choice with this formidable warrior.

  He huffed.  “Yeah… Look… Loosening the creed this way is new for me...  Just don’t be offended if I put the helmet back on… It's not because of you…”

  “I understand.  So is this an intentional thing… the loosening?”

  He hummed.  “I suppose it is.  I wouldn’t have dreamed of it a few years ago.”

  Well, that was a heavy statement.  It was also none of your business.  You barely knew the man.  But… you finally got him talking about himself… and distracted him from his anxiety… Why not learn more?  He’d certainly let you know if you were being intrusive. 

  “I don’t know much about your creed, besides hiding your identity.  Is there more to it?”  You stared at the wall nervously, afraid you’d crossed a line by asking.

  But Din was taken aback for other reasons.  It was rare that an outsider took an interest in Mandalorian culture beyond weapons and hidden faces.  That was honestly… refreshing.

  “Well, hiding my identity is the creed.  But we also live by a set of tenets - mostly about honor, supporting the tribe, protecting the innocent… things like that…”

  “That’s very noble.”  Really, that made a lot of sense.  You’d noticed through the years that the Mandalorian’s bounties tended to come back in one piece - no unnecessary brutality, unlike some of the others.  You’d even witnessed him once chastising the guild’s henchmen for being too rough when he handed a quarry over sans carbonite, which on its own was rare among bounty hunters.  “I’ve always thought you seemed to have stronger morals than some of our colleagues.”

  He was silent for a moment, swallowing the automatic suspicion that arose at your knowing statement.  “Why would you know anything of me?  We’d never spoken until recently.”

  You laughed.  “You’re a little hard to miss… Mandalorian in shining armor… Besides, we’ve been running the same circles for years.  I’m sure you’ve known of me, too.”

  Well, that was, in fact, true.  He really needed to relax with the suspicious attitude.

  “Yeah… sorry…”

  Ah, so he did know who you were.  You could play his game, too, turn the suspicion into something a bit lighter maybe…

  “And how did you know me, Din Djarin?”  Your voice was almost playful.  But his answer shocked you into a moment of stunned silence.

  He paused, unsure if he should reveal what he knew, but his inhibitions were dropping as the conversation pushed forward.  “You were practicing the same good deeds that I was - and usually beating me to it.”

  What…  A pit formed in your stomach.  How did he know? “Explain.”  Your voice was a bit tremulous - this could potentially be bad news for you.

  He sensed your tension and turned his head just slightly in your direction.  “Hey, no… Relax… I’ve never told a soul…”

  You still weren’t speaking, so he continued.   “Whenever I had enough credits, I’d try to get the pucks of… innocents… but most of the time you’d gotten to them first.  And when I’d check into it, they’d had their bounty canceled… by you, claiming they were deceased… and all traces of them would disappear…”

  You found your voice, relieved a bit by the implication that he was possibly doing the same thing… a very charitable… but very illegal… practice.  “Why did you check into it if you weren’t aiming to turn me in?”

  He answered simply, “Had to make sure you weren’t thwarting my efforts.  Turned out we were on the same side.”

  You let out the breath you’d been holding.  “Thank you… for keeping it to yourself.  I can’t believe I never realized.   Why did you do it, Din?  Because of your oath?”

  He considered for a moment.  “I was once an innocent, and the Mandalorians offered me protection… I want to pay it back to others when I can.  And guild rules be damned, I will never return a battered woman to an abusive husband… or an enslaved person to their master… It’s not right.”

  Smiling through the dark, you responded, “I’m glad to know I'm not the only one.  That's why we work so well together.”

  “Yeah, probably…” he puttered off into awkward silence.

  Oh, right - you still didn’t really know each other.  You should probably quit while you’re ahead, but you still wanted to learn more about this mysterious man… he was incredibly interesting, actually.

  You cleared your throat in preparation for another potentially touchy topic, but your curiosity was killing you.

  “Am I allowed to ask about the loosening of your creed?  Did something happen that prompted you to do that?”  He hesitated just a bit too long.  “Forget it, I’m sorry - that’s none of my business.”

  Din sighed.  “It’s a fair question.  I’ve learned that not all Mandalorians follow it, and I’m honestly just tired of hiding… and sacrificing so many normal human things.”

  “Like sleeping without a helmet?”  Your voice was softer now.

  “Yeah, like sleeping without a helmet… Thanks for… making that possible.”

  You grinned to yourself.  “Of course, Din.  We all deserve some basic comforts.”

  ——————————

  The conversation continued well into the early morning hours, revived each time a topic reached its conclusion.  Eventually, you could sense that Din was tiring of talking about himself, but it was also not in his nature to ask questions of others, being rather unskilled in socialization.  So you offered up a bit about your own life without prompting.  And finally, he got comfortable asking.

  You told each other about your home planets and the families you left behind, how you got into bounty hunting, and so forth.  When things reached a lull, he hesitantly, and almost timidly, offered, “I have a foundling.”  

  This was shocking information, but it made sense - the sadness he carried with him.  He spoke of the child with the love of a parent, and his voice became almost animated relating stories of its magic.  So this was why he’d turned on the guild not long ago - and was later reinstated by Greef Karga.  Now this complicated man’s story was coming together.

  As you both became too tired for these heavier topics, you moved on to bounty hunting escapades, sharing your most humorous and embarrassing stories, especially from your early days.  How he’d tracked his first quarry right into a brothel - a thing the sheltered nineteen year-old Mandalorian knew nothing about - and he was so shocked when a naked twilek latched on to his chest plate that he’d let the bounty get away.  Or when you’d chased a spice dealer onto a small farm and fell straight into their manure pit - and it was the bounty himself who helped you climb out, covered in animal refuse, in return for handing over his puck.  That story earned a genuine laugh from your serious companion.

  But as first light began to slip under the bunk door, you both realized you would need at least a few hours of sleep before working the next morning and reluctantly agreed to end your conversation, one of the most enjoyable you could remember.

  “Hey… uhmmm… Thanks for this… getting my mind off it… It was nice going without the helmet for awhile.”

  You smiled broadly to yourself and kicked your elbow behind you to nudge his back gently.  “You’re welcome.  It was nice getting to know you, Din.  Sleep well.”

  Despite his best efforts to keep professional distance, Din enjoyed getting to know you, too… Maybe making a friend out of this temporary partnership wouldn’t be so bad.

  ——————————

  Neither of you knew it yet, but one day you would know everything about this man.  You would love him… consider him your family… marry him.  You would know his handsome face… and his arms around you while you slept… and his mouth on yours… You would meet his foundling and love him like your own - a clan of three.  And when you were both too old to do this kind of work, you would sell your ship and settle down together on a dusty planet, partners for the rest of your days.  

  You would thank your lucky stars for a chance encounter in that dingy cantina… or was it fated, after all?

  But for now, you were content to make a new friend in this lonely galaxy - an enigmatic man who similarly had no idea the place that you would someday hold in his life… and his heart…

  —-----------------

Thanks for reading!

Next chapter

[adultswim2021]

Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job #45: “Crows” | March 29, 2010 - 12:30AM | S05E05

Lotta chatter in the discord about this season of Tim & Eric. Most of my friends were Tim and Eric devotees to some degree, and we are all having a great time communally reshaping our opinions on a shared like of something. It’s special. I like it! They’ve been selectively watching along with my watch along, and a lotta them are making a point to dig into a Tim & Eric rewatch. You bet they are. Lotta them said they hated this one especially, but lord help me, I think I love this one. 

When I give a contrarian opinion–you better believe it–people talk. So, let the conversation begin: I got very high before watching this episode, and that is probably the only reason I liked it so much. So, I am going to make the mistake of letting this stand as my definitive opinion on the episode. When one embarks on something so audacious as an adultswim.com branded blog, when one uses their mind for a higher purpose (discussing Meatwad, Brak, etc), they must occasionally reflect on their lives and conclude: I am the only person who is right about anything, so much so that it’s especially true when I am high as hell. 

Okay: Quall sings the Car of the Future, not that good but I like that there’s a crazy guy on TV. This was Tim & Eric’s intent all along, and sometimes it’s just nice.

Then there’s the Paynus Bros. This doesn’t go anywhere, really, but I laughed a bit and I can’t deny that. Is it weird that a guy in this once yelled at my wife over some seriously pedantic bullshit regarding some forgotten stand-up comedy-related scandal? Yes, it’s weird. But guess what? I don’t even HAVE a wife anymore, dickhead. I do like the part where the host of the entertainment news show interviews his friend’s parents. LOL who DOES that. A lot of this is a little time-wastey though and it doesn’t really have much of a point. But some of it works for me, which isn't bad for being the worst sketch in the episode. 

The Cinco Sleep Watching Chair is a classic. I love this sketch so much. Doug Foster (aka Doug Prish-Preed) cracks me up, and the bit where they give him age-inappropriate frat boy dialogue (saying his romantic partners just need to be hot, and nothing else matters- IMAGINE!). Michael Gross plays his sleep-watching friend, a strange sinister-seeming relationship. It’s almost as if he’s the man’s feeder, but for sleep. One of my favorites, I love the little smile at the end. It makes me do a huge one. 

The wraparound is that Tim has his eyes pecked out by crows, which eventually leads to Eric getting his eyes also pecked out. This is because, inexplicably, they can’t not simply avoid one particular alleyway where foreboding crows attempt murder on those who pass one too many times. This is all connected to a “Dark Man” who, I learned only recently, is famous rapist Marilyn Manson. I thought he was just some bad actor they got. Oh well, fooled me. I am sorry for not taking a stand against him. I promise I don't like the guy.

The reviled Rainn Wilson plays a menacing character who crackles and warns Tim & Eric of the crow storm coming. It’s all meant to evoke tropes of supernatural horror films. I hate Rainn even more than Manson, but even his presence doesn’t bug me in this. This is a good role for a wad like him.

Another interesting thing about this sequence is that it results in a sketch that works both as a standalone bit of weirdness AND as a narrative bridge that introduces the referenced "dark man". A circle of chanting people all say mildly absurd things like “Be provocative, be organized”, which is a phrase that I think is poetry, and I think about it often. A shadowy figure swoops in and takes one of the men's sons. I love this, and consider it art.

The Dark Man shows up in the spooky alley to turn Tim & Eric into a pair of porcelain birds because of their past crimes against birds. The little bit of footage of Eric smugly shooting a bird at point blank range is so funny to me. I consider moments like this to be gifts, and I appreciate the wonderful one I have received here. He also turns Rainn Wilson into a toilet, like he deserves. It becomes apparent that this is a reference to the Tom Goes to the Mayor episode Porcelain Birds; so much so that John Ennis reprises his role as the guy at the bronzing plant. Then he morphs into the Tom Goes art-style and we cut to Tom Goes to the Mayor style credits. Wonderful! Simply wonderful!

I like Crows, everyone!

[thevindicativevordan]

Now that it's finished what do you think of Superman: Space Age? Will it persist as an evergreen standalone a la All Star? Or will it be forgotten?

No clue what it's long term reception will be, but folks, this is one of my favorite Superman stories. I'm not good at critiquing art so I just want to start this off by saying Mike Allred's work here is worth the price tag alone. I've dreamt of seeing him draw a Superman book for ages, and he did not disappoint me here, particularly loved how he always gave Lois different outfits.

"Dark" Superman stories face a tough balancing act. They must take Superman into territory he doesn't often go to, and they must do so without breaking the character. Superman at heart is an optimistic story. To the question of "can a powerful man be good?", he is supposed to be an affirmative response. How then can that spirit of optimism and idealism be present in a story where the pitch is "Earth is fucked and going to die, and there's nothing Superman can do to prevent that"? Defying expectations, Russell treats that kind of pitch as an opportunity to reconstruct Superman where others would use it to deconstruct him.

A question the book returns to again and again over the course of the three issues is what should Superman be doing with his powers? Clark himself is eager to get off the farm and see the world. Jor-El supports his eagerness and expects him to be Earth's champion. Pa Kent tries to tamper down his enthusiasm. Lois grills him on whether his heroics are misaimed and his gifts could be better applied in other ways. Brainiac chides him for wasting his time on humanity when the Anti-Monitor is coming to annihilate the universe. It's a question many Superman writers have taken a stab at answering, but Russell gives an answer that I love: Sure there are bigger problems that Clark needs to address, but the smaller problems he solves have a meaning too.

Helping and interacting people on an individual basis let's Superman show people that someone cares. That someone viewed them as individually having worth, rather than only being concerned with the larger picture. And he also helps people simply because he enjoys doing that. Russell points out that the simpler pleasures in life, whether that's eating a good meal or rescuing a cat out of a tree, are sources of strength that support us in our quests to overcome life's big hurdles. Someone taking the time out to enjoy those simpler pleasures is nothing to be chided for, especially since it doesn't stop Superman from saving the Earth multiple times over the course of the story. He prevented nuclear war! He fended off Brainiac! He stopped an asteroid! Superman was able to save people on the large scale and the small scale just fine for years, up until the end.

Speaking of saving people, the central question of the story is how do you solve the trolley problem? If the only way to save five people is to kill one, do you do it? Batman says yes, but you kill the one to save the five out of defiance. Someone tied five people to the track and they want those five people to die. By diverting the trolley you give that person the finger and deny them what they want. This outlook plays into Batman's ending, where he gets the Joker killed in order to save the kids, killing one to save five. However Batman overlooked something critical in his solution to the trolley problem: what if someone didn't want to kill the five? What if instead they only wanted to kill the one, but didn't want to do it themselves, and merely used five people in order to force another to kill the one for them? This is what Lex does, he doesn't want the kids dead, he wants Bruce Wayne dead, and Bruce sacrificing himself just ends up giving Lex what he wants. Batman's solution is a failure because he ended up playing right into Lex's hands.

In contrast, Superman believes that you should try and save all six, even if you fail. When the cynics and the corrupt are firmly in charge, that's when you need people who aspire to do more than the world says they can. Superman's solution is a critical factor in his ending as well. His idealistic attempt to save everyone, Project Humanity, diverted his attention away from the world for a little while. Some people died because Superman was trying to save everyone instead of simply saving what he already could. In the end though, Superman is vindicated because his efforts save more than he ever could have otherwise. With the DNA of everyone on the planet, he was able to send said DNA to another Earth when the Anti-Monitor finally destroyed his home universe. Kal becomes Jor-El, a desperate scientist on a doomed planet who sends the last remnant of his species to another world in hopes that they can survive. And just like Kal once beat the odds and made it, humanity makes the trip and is resurrected by another Earth's Superman. Unlike his father Superman managed to save his people, even if he couldn't save his planet. Reminds me of Reed Richards in Hickman's Secret Wars epic, Clark and Reed both couldn't win, but they did find a way to not lose.

It's not a perfect story, and some of the flaws do grate me. While the focus on Batman does play an important role in setting up the ending, at times it feels like Russell's focus is spread too thin. Really I think he had enough material for a companion Batman: Space Age mini, and just tried to fold it into this book. Contrast between Superman and Batman's answer to the trolley thought experiment is needed for how it sets up the ending, but I don't think we needed as many pages focusing on Bruce as we got. Plus this is just a personal issue, but I found it disappointing that Clark and Lex never interact at all in this story, with Batman being more of a personal foe for Lex than Superman. Batman is the one who exposes Lex's plot in the first issue, and ultimately it's Bruce Wayne whom Lex targets when he gets out of prison. Russell writes such a great Lex that I was disappointed we didn't get to see him write any Clark/Lex interactions.

Outside of that big complaint? Love this. Adore the Mike Allred art which is gorgeous and which I desperately want to see an Absolute edition of. Appreciate Russell giving us a darker Superman story that talks about big serious philosophical issues, and doesn't give easy answers. It's a story that even now still sticks with me, especially the tragedy of the ending. Clark and all of the originals are dead, just like how the other Superman isn't the same guy as the "main" Superman, the people he recreated aren't the originals. Not since I've read For The Man Who Has Everything have I gotten such a bittersweet ending to a Superman story. Fantastic book and definitely one I will come back to in the future.

[attorneys-against-court-violence]

Aaaaaand finish! The first trial starts in the next part.

Well well well... I don't think they quite managed such a personally hateable antagonist for Case 2 since Redd White. Instead of pulling the law in his favour through blackmail, Retniz is using shady contracts and public opinion to drive us into a corner. Attention is power and this man has all the power he needs to put the A-Team on the backfoot it would seem. Seems Bonny and he have a mutual grudge to settle with Little Miss Gramarye... and they make quite an effective duo too. The former has the know-how and experience working with Trucy to help pull this off while he handles the crowd. Seems we're getting a jealousy arc for her.

Phoenix... Nick... good ol' Nicky-Nacky-Noo himself. I think he's both in a much better role here than in most of DD and a much more impactful presence than in 5-2. 5-2 was more of a laugh-it-off sort of affair so Phoenix doesn't get to pull the sheer reverence and weight his presence allows (AJ not withstanding anyways). It's a rare thing for me to be relieved at 3D Phoenix's presence in a case, so consider my respect earned on that front, Spirit of Justice. Of course, I AM talking from the perspective of someone who's treating these cases as standalones and not taking the plot as a whole from start to finish. I know Phoenix dominates SoJ in a similar way to DD. It's tastefully done here at least.

You see this? You see. THIS!? This is the kind of thing I think Athena and Simon were a little bereft of before. Yutie's slight smile upon being told Apollo is going to stand in court tells of a warm history between the two... or maybe melancholic? It's a moment like this that should have been present in the prior game given how important Simon and Athena were (whether that would cheapen him being closed-off I'll have to think about).

SoJ just does a lot of little things that DD doesn't seem to have bothered to do until the last couple cases that help bouy each moment up. The latter definitely has good moments and the overarching story is a nice one, but something about SoJ so far clicks better for me during parts that aren't as closely attached to the main story. I may even be tempted to go through the entire game based on this. Maybe I'll tackle Nick's cases once I'm done with the dorks? We'll see.

While I'm here, I might as well expunge on why it is I find Trucy much better here than in DD and it's pretty simple; she's given a lot more in terms of emotional stakes than in DD. She's a hard-working girl with a grand lineage to carry, and a very elaborate show to keep afloat. Apollo and Athena are shown to care about and support her endeavours. Trucy - seemingly unshakeable as her adoptive father - is put in a vulnerable spot, which we get to see and feel over much more than when she was kidnapped in 5-5. She feels a lot more grounded here, with more strongly established personal motivations and character than before. I thought DD had a fine enough start in 5-2, but had to ditch her in favour of Athena and she never got much to do since. I love Thena to death but even I can see how that's a dirty way to treat a former assistant character.

The gravy boat's rolling strong! I'll see you another night for the trial!

[painted-fanbird]

Thinking about the Inkworld trilogy and Mistborn Era 1, and how they handled books 2 and 3 and why I like the Inkworld better lol

Why compare them? Because Inkheart was the last series I read before Mistborn, and I adored it, but more relevantly they’re formatted similarly. both trilogies have first books that function as standalones, followed by two connected sequels turning them into trilogies

The actual analysis is under the cut both because of massive spoilers for both series, and because this is long and I’m not about to be clogging up your dashboard lol

I adored The Final Empire (book 1), but Well of Ascension (book 2) and The Hero of Ages (book 3) were both major misses for me. Though I didn’t love tWoA, I did find it generally fine. tHoA on the other hand I actively dislike. Contrasted to the Inkworld trilogy, where Inkspell (book 2) is actually my favorite! With Inkdeath (book 3) as my second favorite. Inkheart (book 1) comes in third, but I still love that book. The other two just speak to me XD

Inkspell expands on the loose ends left in Inkheart very naturally, and I love that! Inkspell opens with Dustfinger returning home, which works perfectly since he just vanished into the night at the end of Inkheart with Farid. It additionally sets up Orpheus, and once we’re in the Inkworld we meet up with the rest of our loose ends! Basta and The Magpie. Additionally, Inkspell has the advantage of the Inkworld being generally unknown to us the reader. Cornelia Funke has basically free rein to do what she wants as long as she doesn’t violate the whimsical, magical vibe she’s already established in Inkheart. Which she does not, and Dustfinger’s initial return to his world is literally my favorite scene in the whole book <3

tWoA, by contrast, doesn’t really do this imo. The biggest loose ends we’re left with in TFE are allomancy as a whole, the missing atium, and low key OreSeur specifically. tWoA chooses to focus on literally none of this in depth, instead focusing on the government and the Siege of Luthadel. Which is logical, obviously rebellion take overs will have some kinks they need to iron out, but it doesn’t pay any serious mind to what TFE set up and I find that to be a let down. We get a little bit of Allomancy exploration in Duralumin, but that’s it. The atium is relevant exclusively because the invading armies think Luthadel has it, but there’s no anything about it outside of that. OreSeur is just straight up dead! Though I did love Vin and TenSoon, that was my favorite part of the whole book <3

tWoA also squanders one of the things I adored about TFE, the character dynamics. The whole crew was so fun, and it was such a delight to see interact with each other and Vin. In tWoA they’re barely even there! Dockson, Kelsier’s best friend, has literally three scenes in the entire book. He dies in the third one. Clubs? Also has like three scenes, including where he dies. Ham is marginally more present, but Spook is only in like two scenes himself. We see the most of Sazed, which is cool because I like him <3 Instead of focusing on the crew, tWoA introduces new characters! Which are… hit or miss. Tindwyl and TenSoon and Allrianne my beloved <3 Then there’s Zane. Whom I can only describe as a Gary Stu and frankly I want to pick Sanderson’s brain and find out what the hell he was thinking when he made Zane because by all accounts he makes no sense lol

Inkspell and Inkdeath however, introduce new side characters without usurping the focus on the main cast. This is admittedly helped by Inkheart having a smaller cast in general XD But Dustfinger, Mo, Farid, Fenoglio, Resa, and Meggie if you squint (her squandered potential is another post lol) all remain major players, and continue to interact with each other like the did in book one. It’s great <3

tHoA is where things get particularly dicey for me lol. In tone and in plot. I just found it to be depressing, boring, and I do not like Ruin and Preservation. I don’t generally enjoy plots on a cosmic, god fighting scale to begin with, and I actively hate twist, “it was him all along!” villains. I find them to be boring, and feel that they remove agency from the villains prior to them. Also, I think they were set up poorly. If you removed them from the plot, literally nothing changes with TFE, and very little would change in tWoA. Not ideal for a villain you’re about to claim was here the whole time.

This book also continues the trend of no one talking to each other by scattering our protagonists to the four winds! Vin literally only talks to Elend, and maybe Ham once this book. Spook is in Urteau with Sazed, Breeze, and Allrianne, and his message never makes it to her. They literally don’t talk once and that’s a damn shame considering what they could have had. Tonally it’s just death and distraction all the way through, and that’s just,, blegh. No thanks.

Also everyone is so grim faced and boring, I hate this version of Elend, there’s no sass, no bite to him anymore. Just a grim and dutiful general who insists he’s struggles with doing hard things but then does them anyway. I also hate that his character arc goes unfulfilled! My man spends the entire book being worried about his inability to keep people safe, then he gets beheaded after watching an entire squad of soldiers get slaughtered by koloss. Like sure he saved the world but uhhhh yeah that’s not a satisfying conclusion. (Elend as a character was actually just generally not utilized well by the narrative imo. Raise your hand if you remember that this man was forced to sleep with a skaa girl at 13 years old she avoided romance because of it!)

Vin is also kind of boring, which is deeply upsetting because she was a fav in TFE and tWoA. She’s just so,, grim. And nothing else. It sucks. Also I don’t think her arc was done well here either. I love the idea of her finally coming to terms with the two parts of herself, but it felt forced! Vin spends basically no time as Valette after book 1, so it feels dragged out. We did not have to wait to book 3 to resolve this, we could’ve sorted this our way earlier lol

Also the whole thing with Sazed and the prophecy is just,, wut? I’m not a fan of the implication that Sazed is less of a man because he’s been castrated, and since I just generally don’t like Ruin and Preservation in general turning Sazed into god is just not where it’s at for me. It felt bizarre and out of place tbh

Inkdeath, on the other hand, does not have these issues. It’s villain, The Adderhead, was firmly established and was also the primary villain of book 2. He is not a god. He’s a king who was seeking immortality and was kind of foiled. A man, at his core lol. Tonally it is pretty grim at the beginning, but when Dustfinger is brought back, about 1/3 of the way through, the plot takes a notable hopeful upswing. Things aren’t easy, but they’re looking better now <3

I’ll also be the first to admit that Inkdeath’s clear cut happy ending is my preferred story ending lol, which is absolutely major points in its favor XD

I also think Inkdeath handles its characters well. Meggie and Farid do kind of end up on the side, but Mo, Dustfinger, and Resa all really shine. This opinion is helped by the fact that Mo and Dustfinger are my favorites, but I think it holds merit outside of that. They’ve been primary characters since book 1, are continuing to participate in the main plot together, and I find their arcs to be constant and wrapped up very nicely <3

TL;DR: I think tWoA and tHoA squandered their potential by introducing new plot threads instead of focusing on established loose ends, and committing several character assassinations by book 3. Inkspell and Inkheart did not do this, they followed up on their loose ends directly, kept the focus on the characters introduced in book 1, and did not go suddenly off the rails in the climax, instead ending with my preferred traditional fairy tale ending <3

[chlorineloki]

i’m sorry i’m going on another rant but this ship enrages me; i think they should be besties, not romantically in love. that’s how i originally read it, and i hope the show backtracks a little bit and makes that real, because they do NOT need to have romantic feelings for each other. like it seemed like they were just trying to figure out how to CARE about others, not like they were in love. i think they have deep platonic love for one another, but i see no reason that it needs to be/ should be romantic?? i think they’re both just trying to figure out how to express that for each other, and they’re really awkward about it, so it ends up being expressed a bit weirdly. i really really hope s2 does this narrative and they don’t end up as a couple. it just doesn’t feel right.

idc about the selfcest or whatever bc they’re completely different characters. the actors even have some chemistry, but i just do not like this ship as romantic, i see them as friends. i’m curious to see as well if sylvies feelings were genuine, or if she was trying to manipulate loki to get what she wants. i hope they can be friends without the writers/directors ruining it and making them actually fall in love.

taken from a quora response (i know i hate that site too but this reply really made sense):

“I glanced at the other answers and everyone seems pretty sure that they are madly in love. I have to say I disagree.

The Loki we know has truly experienced trauma throughout his life. He was basically abducted as a baby for lack of a better term, lied to, etc etc. He doesn't trust people. I would go as far as to say he doesn't even put any effort into liking them. As much as I do believe he loves Thor, it is a love-born out of initial obligation. I think that loving/caring about anyone outside of your immediate family is always different. And that the first time you do it, it has a learning curve. What a lot of people read as soft loving romantic feelings, I read as Loki slowly lowering walls.

I think that at the moment when Mobius was pruned, Loki truly was heartbroken, because he considered him an ally and a friend. Possibly his first. Imagine not having a single friend in a thousand years. After having that kick ass fight, working with Sylvie against the minutemen, he grabs her shoulders, I don't think he was going to dip her and kiss her. Ala a Peggy/Steve or Tony Pepper moment. Or declare her his one true love.

I think he was going to declare that he trusted her and that he wanted to fight alongside her. He was going to tell her everything that she missed, everything that he thought they should do next. He was fully prepared to do the same thing with Mobius, He just never got the chance. He's never known how to trust someone and now he did. And in his mind the first part of that is declaring it. Declaring that you aren't trying to betray that person despite it kind of being your calling card.

Could I see a romantic relationship in the distant future? Maybe? Everyone seems to look at the variant thing differently. To me none of the variants are the same. They look different, they act different, they were raised different, and they don't even appear to have the same genes. Literally twins are more similar than the variants. A lot of people are also saying that him caring for her is similar to him accepting himself because they share so many traits. But that is a kind of relationship that can be found in a person who isn't your trans-dimensional variant. Oftentimes our best friends, our platonic soulmates, are people that we see ourselves in the most.

There's a quote that I don't remember exactly. But it goes something like, “You will find that in your life there are people who will know your soul from the inside out and the great tragedy is that these are rarely the people you spend your life with." I thought of that quote several times when I was watching the last episode.

I personally really like Sylvie as a standalone character, and at this point I'm just hoping that she lives to move on in the next phase of movies. Because honestly, I like Tom Hiddleston, it would be cool for him to have a romantic relationship with anybody. But more than anything I'd love to see him in his mischievous glory with a best friend egging him on.”

[askaceattorney]

Dear Anonymous,

Sounds like a pretty tall order, but...

This happens to be one of my favorite cases as well, for a number of reasons: we get to learn more about the history of a few established characters -- Gregory Edgeworth, Manfred von Karma, and Tyrell Badd -- as well as the history of a new one, Raymond Shields, we find out some of the details of the case that led to the DL-6 incident, and the characters are...

...quite charming, I have to say.

The meaning behind the title becomes clear right away when Raymond shares his plan with his former mentor.

If this case was just a standalone game (which it very well could be), it would be easy to think that Raymond was its main character.  He’s the one with a dream of finishing what his mentor started, after all.  But as it turns out, he plans on enlisting the help of someone he just recently warmed up to -- the titular character, Miles Edgeworth.

Besides being a capable prosecutor, Edgeworth has a strong connection to the events of 18 years ago as well, and anyone who played through the original trilogy (or even just the first game) already knows a few things about that incident.  Thankfully, Uncle Ray is here to fill Edgeworth (and us) in on all the details.  He temporarily becomes the narrator, sending us back in time to the glory days of Defense Attorney Gregory Edgeworth.

Knowing how this tragic substory ends doesn’t make it any less intriguing.  Right away we’re introduced to a rather entertaining and pleasant client -- the kind most defense attorneys can only dream of.

I can’t say I was expecting this case to start on such a happy note, can you?

The details of the case are also pretty bizarre -- Jeff Master has been accused of murdering a chef by the name of Isaac Dover, whose body was found inside Master’s chocolate treasure chest during the "Great Dessert Contest.”  If one didn’t know better, they might think this was all happening in Candy Land rather than L.A.  Except for the murder part, of course.

After the short discussion with Master, we’re introduced to another, equally fantastical character -- Master’s maid and assistant on “Piece of Cake,” Katherine Hall.  Not surprisingly, she also likes to express herself through song and dance.

Things quickly get real from there, however -- Ms. Hall tells Gregory and Raymond that she was the first one to discover the victim’s body, they make their way to the crime scene (a tasty-looking crime scene, but a crime scene nonetheless), and then they’re introduced to good ol’ Detective Badd.

If anyone knows how to bring people back to reality just by showing up, it’s this guy, am I right?

After some investigating, we run into a slightly less fantastical character.

Like most culprits who aren’t revealed at the very beginning, Mr. Gustavia does a good job of acting like an innocent bystander -- he introduces himself as a pastry chef who can make candy sculptures in a split-second, but whose design needs some work.  Thankfully, he plans to do some studying in Zheng Fa once this ordeal is over.  Sounds innocent enough, right?  If nothing else, you have to admire his dedication to his craft.

Little do Greg and Ray (as I’ll now call them) know just how far that dedication goes.

Gustavia also shares a possible motive for Dover’s killer -- the winner of Master’s contest would earn the title of “World’s Greatest Pastry Chef”, as well as his treasured “Angel’s Recipe.”  Could it be someone wanted to forcefully prevent Dover from winning this coveted prize?  It may sound like a strange reason to want to kill someone, but as mentioned by Gustavia, the dessert business isn’t always the sweetest one.

Gregory proves himself to be the skilled and perceptive lawyer his son would later describe him as by identifying another potential suspect within a few moments of starting his investigation.

Some fingerprints found on all the chocolates in the room point Greg and Ray toward a new pastry chef, but before meeting her, they learn who the prosecutor for Master’s case will be: someone we know all too well.

The foreknowledge of how things shake out between Gregory and von Karma makes this first encounter between them even more daunting for us, but Gregory doesn’t seem to be deterred by von Karma’s reputation and perfect win record.

But first...another chef who came straight from Candy Land.

She even indicates that she’s from England, where she’s known as “Ms. Delicious.”  It’s hard to get more fantasy-like than that, wouldn’t you say?  And we haven’t even gotten into her castle made of cream.  Speaking of which...

He may not be part of the decor, but he certainly speaks like a fantasy villain.

In other words, he’s the same ill-tempered curmudgeon we know him as from the first game.

It turns out he not only looks down on defense attorneys, but also on detectives.

Luckily for Gregory, this means he and Badd have an enemy in common, making it easier for the two of them (and Ray, of course) to do some investigating on their own.  Another quick investigation reveals a number of details, all of which seem to cast suspicion on “Ms. Delicious.”  Could she truly be Lord Licorice (or in this case, Lady Licorice) in disguise?

Gregory’s first debate with von Karma seems to shift the blame back toward Master, rendering the whole investigation pointless, until Badd reminds Gregory of one unexplained piece of evidence.

Gregory then takes things a step further by pointing out Delicia’s bad habit of lying -- specifically, about who she really is.  Thankfully, her identity isn’t a secret she’s willing to keep at the risk of being a murder suspect.

The reason behind Delicia’s lies turns out to be her sweet tooth for Master’s desserts.  It sounds like an anticlimactic-but-somewhat-hilarious sort of ending to her story, and it still leaves the question of the gloved fingermarks unresolved, but then...

In true Ace Attorney fashion, another, much more baffling mystery appears with the disappearance of the victim’s sherbet statues.  Who let them melt, for what purpose, and how does it relate to Dover’s murder?  Unfortunately, we’ll have to tune in next time Uncle Ray feels nostalgic to find the answers to these questions.  Speaking of which, the recurring transitions between past and present happens to be one of my favorite things about this case.  Where would the fun be if we just went through both of them linearly?

Back in the present, Master’s mansion, now a museum, is exhibiting the “Sherbet Salon” in the Winter Palace, which Raymond believes could be the last opportunity to uncover the truth of 18 years ago.  His investigation -- or rather, his reluctant friend’s investigation -- starts out as a simple nostalgia trip (including a cameo from the DeLites for our nostalgic pleasure), complete with a selfie of Raymond and his late mentor’s son.

Clearly, the nostalgia is only being enjoyed by one of them, but even so, this photo is sure to bring about the fondest of memories.

Before they have a chance to explore the other palaces, however...

Not one, but two familiar faces show up -- one from Edgeworth’s past and one from Raymond’s past...and not under the most pleasant circumstances, either.

Edgeworth and Raymond both detect poisonous gas emanating from the room Gustavia just came out from.  It’s situations like this that make you want to go, "Slow down, game, slow down!” but that’s just part of this game’s charm.

As Gustavia recuperates from his poisoning, Edgeworth and Raymond fill each other in about their mutual acquaintances.

Our favorite hopeless romantic is back, and still going by his new name, Laurice Deauxnim.

I’d just like to give a big virtual high-five to whoever came up with that line.

Luckily, another new/old face shows up before any of Larry’s butziness has a chance to rub off on Uncle Ray, and...

Oh, my...

None of Ms. Hall’s charm, beauty, or grace was lost during her master’s imprisonment, it seems.  If anything, it’s multiplied at least ten times over, plus she even still has her golden singing voice!  8 D

...Sorry, where was I?

Ms. Hall has now left the stage and become the curator of the museum, but she shows off her special brand of courtesy to Raymond and Edgeworth, the same as she did with Greg and Ray, complete with fancy dishes and high-quality Ceylon tea.  There’s one distinct difference between then and now, however...

This minor detail seems to be just that, but the difference in temperature becomes a vital clue later on.  But more importantly...

Aside from von Karma and Badd (and Dover, of course), everyone involved in the IS-7 case has found their way to the building in which its victim was murdered.  Is it sheer coincidence, or could there be a reason for it?

Spoiler alert: There’s a reason for it.

To make a long story short, someone felt the urge at some point to do the wrong thing for the right reason, as they say -- in an attempt to catch the true culprit of IS-7, they set a trap in the Autumn Palace that would poison them.  Sure enough, their plan ended up working, but we don’t learn about this until a certain English chef finds herself in the hot seat once again.

This time around, she seems even more likely to be the culprit, as the only person among them who could easily obtain the Megatoxin X that was used to make the poisonous mixture.  She wasn’t, however, the only person who could possibly obtain it...

With this in mind, Edgeworth begins putting the pieces together, until...

An unexpected guest arrives, and not a moment too late!

Erm...  Sorry, poor choice of words.

How did the body of Isaac Dover suddenly make itself known, as well as remain perfectly preserved seven years after his death?  And as if that mystery wasn’t enough...

History repeats itself as the sculptures in the Winter Palace are reduced to formless puddles, leaving Edgeworth and company with even more questions and less evidence, much like the situation with his father.  Thus a clear connection between past and present is established, and thanks to that...

Here we go again...

Traveling 18 years back, we learn something rather interesting about Kate, which ties into the overarching theme of parents and children in this game: she was apparently an unwanted child, left on Master’s doorstep. 

As sweet as this unique relationship between them is (even bringing tears to Gregory’s eyes), her love for Master ultimately leads her astray, as she herself foreshadows.

In the meantime, Greg and Ray encounter a number of mysteries soon after the sherbet incident from before: the lyre in Dover’s Gemini sculpture is missing its strings, Kate seems to know more about Dover than she lets on, and Master’s camera somehow ran out of film before he was able to take pictures of everyone’s artwork.  And the cherry on top?

As always, every clue the defense picks up leads them closer to the truth.  After discovering Dover’s true identity -- the renowned French sculptor Pierre Hoquet -- Greg and Ray solve three mysteries in a row: Kate knew about Dover because she recognized him as a favorite artist of hers, the camera’s film ran out because of the pictures she took of his works, and the sculptures melted because her foot happened to hit the power cords by accident...or so she claims, at least.  There’s still the matter of the disappearing lyre strings, though.  Delicia admits to having eaten one of them, but says it was too salty for her to eat the rest.  Thus we’re given another clue that comes in handy later.

In the meantime, poor Master is looking a little less...masterful.

As if being accused of murder wasn’t enough, Master has been through a long and harsh interrogation by von Karma and his lackies.  Fortunately, Greg and Ray’s newest ally, Detective Badd, is there to prove that he isn’t always as “Badd” as he looks by getting him out of it a bit sooner than was planned.  On top of that, Greg and Ray happen to have a quick sugar pick-me-up made by Kate!  Giving things to prisoners is against the rules, but thankfully, Badd is there to (reluctantly) show his sweeter side.

And just like that, Master is back to his old sing-songy self.

Huh...  Seems like I’ve heard that somewhere before.

Things pick up quickly from there when Gregory makes the same discovery as Edgeworth the Younger: 

We also learn that he had financial troubles, which may or may not have something to do with his murder.  (Spoiler alert: It does.)

Another mystery is solved when Master informs Greg and Ray that he ate the lyre strings, but his experience was very different from Delicia’s for some reason -- in fact, he says the strings were delicious.  This difference is easily explained, however.

As someone who only eats sweets, Master was unaware that he had this illness.  One has to wonder how things might have turned out differently had he not decided to focus his efforts on desserts alone.  And as always, this seemingly random piece of trivia ends up becoming the key to the entire case.  In the meantime, it points us to another interesting discovery.

What would a recipe like that be doing in a famous chef’s house?  We don’t find out just yet, but we do learn a bit more about Master and Kate’s close relationship and the struggles therein.

One can hardly blame her for feeling this way, considering literally she owes her life to him, but as her foster father, he wishes to protect her from wasting her life doing things to please him.  As a father himself, it’s no surprise which one Gregory sympathizes with the most.

Back at the crime scene, things take a bit of a strange turn.  Von Karma has refused to let Greg and Ray investigate anywhere outside the patio, and he still hasn’t received an autopsy report for Dover.  But hey, when have restrictions ever been a problem for an ace attorney?

Thus we come to (quite literally) Gregory Edgeworth’s final investigation.  In it we learn that the coveted “Angel’s Recipe” and the aforementioned recipe for curing hypogeusia are one and the same, and that Master is the only heir to the Chairman of the “Master Group,” a famous pharmaceutical company.  This brings Greg and Ray to the reason why Master held the contest in the first place -- the book was left to him as his inheritance, and had been sought after by many as a ticket to fast wealth.  In order to put an end to it, he decided it to give it away to someone, but not without them earning it first.  If nothing else, you have to give him points for creativity.

They also learn the reason why Delicia entered the contest -- the Master Group, which felt differently about giving the book to an outsider, sent her to win the championship and retrieve it.  At this point, you have to wonder just how many secrets that woman could be hiding, am I right?

Then, after discovering blood in the fountain belonging to Dover, Gregory finally starts getting close to the truth about this case:

And as fate would have it, von Karma shows up to answer Gregory’s questions about Dover and Gustavia...in his own condescending way.

During their debate, Gregory points out that the two desserts are not only of the same quality, but apparently have the same flavor, the same composition, and very similar designs.  This leads him to conclude that Dover and Gustavia collaborated on their desserts.  Being the pompous jerkwad he is, von Karma already knew this was true, but didn’t feel like sharing it with the defense.  He also claims that they only collaborated during the semifinals, but not the finals.  While Gregory is struggling to find proof of their connection, young Raymond is hit by a stroke of genius.

Dover was somehow able to have sherbet ready to use and create two sculptures with it in the limited time he had, but how could he have done so on his own?  Thanks to this idea, Ray receives some praise and we receive some foreshadowing (if you can call it that in a flashback).

The only plausible explanation is that Gustavia prepared the sherbet in advance for him.  Yet for some reason, he didn’t do anything in return for Gustavia.  Could their relationship have become sour, so to speak, thus creating a motive for murder?

The only proof Gregory has that points to Gustavia as a suspect is the fact that he snuck into Dover’s room during the contest, but von Karma is quick to provide an explanation -- he claims that Gustavia went there to steal a photo revealing his acquaintance with Dover.

Not only did they know each other, but their respective sons went to the same school.  This unfortunately brings the debate to a screeching halt, but then Gregory notices something else that’s strange.

Despite having all the evidence he needs to prove Master’s guilt, von Karma is still investigating things rather than preparing for the trial.  In our final moments of Gregory’s story, we see him piece this together with the evidence and discover that two vital parts of this case are missing: a body and an autopsy report.  And as it turns out, he’s familiar with the same strategy we know from Mia and Phoenix.

This leads to a disturbing final conclusion: von Karma isn’t hiding information about the body at all -- he has no information to begin with.  How does a prosecutor make a case without a body or an autopsy, you may ask?  Well, if you’re Manfred von Karma, it’s simple -- you create a fake one!  This realization is what finally pushes Gregory over the edge.

Von Karma refuses to admit it, but the results of Greg and Ray’s tireless investigating point to the likelihood that no one found the body, including von Karma.  Just when they seem to have backed him into a corner, he refuses to say anything until the trial begins.  Nonetheless, Gregory makes a promise right then and there:

Sadly, much like Phoenix’s promise to tell Mia about him and Larry, this was a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep.

Before his unfortunate end, he was able to expose von Karma’s questionable interrogation methods with some help from his newest ally, but the happy ending of this story would have to wait until a new attorney showed his sweaty face in the courtroom.  Greg and Ray ended up losing to von Karma, Master was sent to prison, and a great defense attorney was lost to the world.

Thus the truth was lost fore-

Oh, right, I forgot!  We’ve still got Miles’s story to finish, don’t we?  While not a defense attorney, he has the same skill and integrity as his father, if not more, but does he have it in him to solve a nearly-18-year-old case and discover the one truly responsible for killing Dover, getting an innocent man sent to prison, and causing a court case to end in the worst possible way for everyone involved, Miles included?  (And that’s only the beginning of the collateral damage caused by him.)

Is it even a question?  And now comes the sweetest part of this case -- the part where we tie up every loose end from IS-7 and the poisoning incident.  Ready for some rapid-fire resolutions?

Mystery One: How did Dover’s body turn up out of nowhere, still perfectly preserved?  In order to solve this mystery, Edgeworth first uncovers what happened to the sherbet statues 18 years ago.

It turns out the statues weren’t melted, but were instead carried away by Katherine out of love and admiration for Dover’s final works of art and kept hidden in the mansion’s freezer.

Mystery Two: How did she steal the statues without anyone noticing?  To answer that, we have to take another brief glimpse into the past.

It turns out the saucers from which Greg and Ray (hah...I already miss saying that) took their high-quality Ceylon tea weren’t chilled as part of any tradition -- they were, in fact, sitting on an ice sculpture disguised as a service tray.  And in order to make it look like the statues had melted, she melted two blocks of ice where they had been standing.

This brings us back to Mystery One: Where did Dover’s body come from?  And this is the part the really caught me off guard -- his body was hidden in plain sight all along!

With the use of a fluorescent lamp and a rainbow light device, the body was made to look exactly like a sherbet statue by the killer, and thus went undetected for 18 years.  Once Ms. Hall discovered this, she stuck the body in a hollowed block of ice and dumped both it and the cloth into the fountain, where they were both eventually discovered.  Man, how do those writers think of these things?

Mystery Three: Who made the poison gas trap, and for what purpose?  Luckily, Ms. Hall is nice enough to answer that for us, now that Edgeworth’s already figured out so much.

In a desperate attempt to prove Master’s innocence, she set a trap for the true culprit of IS-7, even at the risk of murdering them.  This brings us back to their relationship which, sweet as it was, ended up causing more trouble than she ever intended.  And the worst part of it is, by accidentally hiding Dover’s body, she was partly responsible for Master’s Guilty verdict.  One can only call it a cruel irony, but as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

One good thing came from her actions, though -- the real culprit ended up taking the bait, just as she’d planned.  Even so, Edgeworth still has some hoops to jump through -- proving Ms. Hall's innocence to a stubborn Judge Courtney, figuring out whose blood was found in the fountain, and waiting for Gustavia to recover (assuming it’s even possible).  Luckily for him, all three issues are settled at once by Gustavia’s miraculous recovery.

Through this stroke of luck, the culprit is delivered right to Edgeworth and company, but he doesn’t go down without a fight.  Not to mention the only evidence Edgeworth has against him is the fact that he fell for Ms. Hall’s trap.  Nevertheless, by using his father’s (and a certain friend’s) tried and true method of turning his thinking around and considering what evidence should exist if Gustavia is the culprit, Edgeworth combines the unsolved mysteries of the past with those of the present to finally unearth the motive behind Dover’s murder: a taste disorder.

During Edgeworth’s Logic Chess battle, Gustavia first claims that his son had an illness, and that the Angel’s Recipe had a cure for it, thus explaining the glove marks on the book and the missing photos from Master’s camera.  In other words, he dealt with the same fatherly feelings shared by Gregory and Master.

That’d be a pretty sweet way for this case to be wrapped up, wouldn’t it?  Too bad that’s not the final plot twist.  The one with the disorder is, in fact, Gustavia.  And as for his son, he was nothing more than a taste-tester to help him ensure that his desserts tasted correct, and whom he deserted (no pun intended) the moment he found a cure for his disorder.

In other words, he ended up gaining two titles: World’s Greatest Pastry Chef and World’s Worst Dad.  One has to admire that level of dedication, but the level of apathy that comes with it would raise any decent person’s eyebrows.  And as we learn later, the consequences of his selfishness are pretty far-reaching.  The question remains, though -- did he also sacrifice Dover’s life for his dream?  Let’s ask our local showing-up-at-the-last-minute expert, Detective Gumshoe!

According to his analysis, Gustavia’s blood somehow ended up in the sherbet sculpture next to the body, as well as a fair amount of salt, thus explaining the “salty lyre strings” mystery.  All right, time for some more rapid-fire resolutions!

Mystery Four: Where did the salt come from?  The only place possible, naturally.

Someone apparently decided to use part of the rock salt lamp as an extra ingredient for part of the sculpture.

Mystery Five: Why was the salt mixed into the sherbet?  At the time, it was no ordinary salt -- the culprit’s blood was on it, and they had to remove it before the police showed up.

Mystery Six: Who was the culprit?  We have a suspect already, but how can Edgeworth get him to admit to his...

...Oh.  Okay.

Mystery Seven: What was his motive?  

While attempting to find the cure to his taste defect, Gustavia was interrupted by Dover, who had already refused to collaborate with him any further, but was now aware of his darkest secret and prepared to use it for blackmail -- something he could never allow.  Gustavia attempted to strike the first blow, but was instead struck by Dover and went flying into the rock salt lamp, leaving some blood on it.  In the end, however, it was Dover who received his “just desserts.”  Thus the entirety of IS-7 is finally revealed...but why would Gustavia admit to it so quickly?

It turns out there’s one more plot twist -- much like a certain Allebahstian ambassador, Gustavia is protected by a few technicalities.

Dover’s murder happened 18 years ago, and the statute of limitations for murder happens to be 15 years.  Kind of makes you want to shake your fist at the Goddess of Law herself, doesn’t it?  So, how does one fight technicalities?  With technicalities!

Gustavia was nice enough to travel to a foreign country for exactly three years after his crime, meaning the statute of limitations still applies!  How about tha--?

DANG IT!!!  *flips over desk*

Edgworth is equally frustrated by this stroke of bad luck, but thankfully, he has a coolheaded ace attorney there to help him cross the finish line his father was unable to reach.

Looks like it’s time for one last trip down memory lane...

Having not attending Master’s trial, Gustavia is unaware the he was found Guilty of being an accomplice to murder, rather than an actual murderer.  On top of this, it took one year to reach this verdict, which finally brings the statute past the 18-year limit...and puts the final nail in Gustavia’s coffin.

But hey, look on the bright side -- he became a confectioner unparalleled in both taste and design.  And now he’ll have the opportunity to make good use of those hard-earned skills...

...in prison.

Talk about sweet justice.

One has to love how the suspense was built up through the investigations conducted by Gregory and Miles, the number of possible suspects, the repeating plot twists, and the numerous hurdles that had to be overcome at the end before finally reaching the oh-so-satisfying conclusion.  It’s almost like a Danganronpa game in that sense, just without the over-the-top sadism and creepy bear.

And now we come to my favorite part of this case: the bittersweet fate of Jeff Master and Kate Hall.  While Kate’s crimes ended up helping to prove Master’s innocence, they also landed her in the same place he’d been kept for the past 18 years.

Thus their reunion would have to wait a bit longer, but if nothing else, her actions proved to her foster father just how much she loved and cared for him.  And with Uncle Ray willing to represent her in court, the wait is unlikely to last very long.

And speaking of Jeff, his prison sentence, while unjust, had a very positive side effect for him, as well as everyone else in the prison.

It turns out life doesn’t have to be fair in order for someone to be happy or make others happy.  Or, as I once heard it put, what the devil meant for bad, God made for good.  Just thinking about it is enough to make your heart melt like chocolate on a block of ice.

Oh, and guess what?  Those pesky technicalities create yet another plot twist -- since Jeff’s Guilty verdict will likely be overturned, Gustavia probably won’t end up going to prison after all.

DANG IT AGAIN!!!

We never find out exactly what happens to him (he gets parole in my headcanon), but one thing’s for sure -- no one’s ever going to munch on any of his sweets again.

Thus ends a case full of sweet reminiscence, sour relations, salty crimes, bitter endings, and spicy plot twists.  Once again, I think it’d make a great standalone game (or even a movie, for that matter), but Edgeworth and company still have some more adventuring to do before all is settled.  Not to mention he still has a decision to make about which path he should take next.

In the meantime, Gregory’s final case, inherited by his son, has finally come to a close in a way that would undoubtedly make him proud.

I can’t say I expected the case leading up to DL-6 to be quite so involved, but I’ll be dipped in chocolate if it didn’t rock my world.

All right, I’m gonna go eat something sweet now.  Take care!

-The Co-Mod

[mostspecialgirl]

nonsensical super nerd rant below about the fate series. spoilers for the stay night routes and zero ahead, probably

okay, we’re good, right?

every time someone tries to get someone else to start fate by saying “just watch it in the correct order. start with Fate/Zero :)” Something in me dies. Ive had to tweet about it so many times. There is no series i will ever have nerd rage of this caliber over other than fate. reading fate/stay night changed the way i engage with media and feel about storytelling and writing and all that stuff and its like Why would you ever want someone to spoil all of the coolest twists in fate/stay night by watching zero. it literally spoils like ALL of them. (by the way, gil’s introduction and reveal with him coming out of nowhere is what cemented him as one of my firm favorites. he’s so cool!!!!) And i know the answer. Because no one plays the VN. Because no one ever plays visual novels and theyd rather just flick on an anime. Because for some god awful reason there is no definitive adaptation that cleanly allows you to digest the fate stay night routes !!!!!!!!!! and reading the fucking thing will take you forever !!!!!!!!! and it’s so terribly inaccessible!!!!!! i probably wouldn’t have played it if my sister didn’t already jump through the hoops for me !!!!!!

people who are fate fans and talk about how good unlimited blade works or heavens feel are two starkly different groups depending on if they watched it or read it because they are genuinely two completely different things. don’t get me wrong i Love Love LOVE the heavens feel movies and i doubt they could have done them all too much better (ubw however… ) BUT the thing is fate RELIES on shirou’s internal monologuing and narration and SO much is lost when you have to transfer all of that from writing to screen. even with the english patch translation purportedly being less than ideal i was still out here getting my heartstrings played with by the writing.

BUT ENOUGH GUSHING!!!! THATS THE THING!!!! THE STAY NIGHT ROUTE IN ANIME FORM IS NONEXISTENT!!! UBW AND HEAVENS FEEL ARE SO SEPARATED!!!! THEY’RE THREE ACTS OF A WHOLE AND IT’S PAINFUL TO HAVE THEM BE SO SEPARATED PEOPLE START WITH THE PREQUEL that, while standalone is an incredible story, CANNOT BE EXPERIENCED TO FULL BREADTH WITHOUT HAVING READ STAY NIGHT FIRST!!!! PEOPLE ARE LICKING THE WRAPPER OF A CANDY AND THINKING ITS THE DAMN TASTIEST THING IN THE WORLD !!!!! YOU ARE NOT YET A FAN !!!!! YOU’RE MISSING THE WHOLE POINT !!!!!! KOTOMINE’S VALUE AND INTRIGUE AS A CHARACTER IS UNDERMINED !!!!! GILGAMESH HAS NO TIME TO BE TRULY HORRIFYING BECAUSE YOURE TOO BUSY BEING DISTRACTED BY HOW SEXY HE IS !!!!!! EVERYTHING ABOUT KIRITSUGU !!!!!!!!! SAKURA’S ENTIRE BACKSTORY CHANGING HOW YOU UNDERSTAND AND VIEW HER AS A CHARACTER !!!!!!!!!!! THE FACT THAT YOU KNOW ZOUKEN EVEN EXISTS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(composing myself instantly) i just think it’s kind of garbage how people see cool screenshots from the VN and go Wow I Can’t Wait To Go And Not Experience This Thing I’m Getting Intrigued By. or seeing astolfo and thinking fate is all about porn. fate is so much more than anyone thinks it is and you can’t understand until you sit down and read it and suddenly you’re born anew and have to go play tsukihime or mahoyo too. it’s absurd that fate’s whole reputation online is based around porn addicts because YES, EVERYONE, fate OBVIOUSLY began as a Naked Boobs Visual Novel but it was God’s Greatest Naked Boobs Visual Novel that was SO damn good it stopped being about porn immediately and cemented itself as an astoundingly successful work of fiction that has engrained itself into the world line. they added gacha to it and it’s been one of the most successful mobile games Ever. the seventh highest grossing mobile game of all time. and it’s straight up just another VN with barebones combat and grinding thrown inbetween

anyway i forgot what i was even getting mad about everyone should sit down and drain away a week or so reading through all of fate stay night. and then they can truly earn the incomparable experience of cry watching today’s menu for the emiya family. that is all.

supplementary edit: i used to read through fate stay night together with my sister every day in the late afternoon and it became such a great ritual for us. it was some of the best times of my life and if you’re going to read it and have a likeminded friend who can just sit there and chill out for like an hour with you it makes all the crazy moments so much more fun. because you probably are here to read my rant despite not playing the vn. i remember i had a little text file on my phone we’d update every time we learned the identity of a new servant or master and id be sitting there using my love for mythology trying to figure out their identities. there was such a delightful satisfaction when finished the stay night route and unlimited blade works and got to begin the next one. i’d give up a lot to relive those days, i think.

[memryse]

The magic of 3rd Life, or why such a simple hardcore miniseries works as well as it does

For a series which only lasted for eight sessions, 3rd Life has had a profound impact on the MCYT fandom. While it did go comparatively unnoticed on Twitter (as is consistent with YouTube-based Minecraft content as a whole, admittedly), Tumblr and other platforms have fallen in love with this series, and it’s become a vector for many fans to familiarise themselves with Hermitcraft and Empires SMP as well. But at its core, 3rd Life is a simple vanilla survival series with a gimmick. What about it resonates so much with so many people?

I would argue that its simplicity, its small cast, its vanilla gameplay “with a twist” is certainly part of it. It’s an easy series to consume, with many POVs totalling four hours or less, and it doesn’t require any prior knowledge of any of the members. Its mechanics are easy to understand. As a standalone, it functions perfectly – it’s immersive and can be followed easily by anyone, regardless of any prior knowledge they may or may not have. However, these factors alone don’t quite encompass what makes 3rd Life so special. Its true charm point lies in the format of the series, and how well it utilises improv.

[more below the cut; this is a fairly long post about 3rd/Last Life meta and my love of its improv. I'm mostly talking about 3rd Life here as it's a completed series, but this most definitely does apply to Last Life as well]

3rd Life is an entirely improv-based series. Whilst members may have a brief concept of the direction they’d like to take their series in – how heavily they want to roleplay, for example – the actual content of each session is fully improvised. Each episode is recorded in one three-hour block, and members are not allowed to play on the server outside of the allotted time other than specifically to finish builds. This time constraint prevents any planning from going into each episode, and interactions between players are completely spontaneous. Players simply run around the map looking for others to interact with (which is significantly easier with the limited world border) and chat about various events on the server, form alliances or deals, etc.

By definition, this almost completely negates the possibility of bad writing. Each player’s reaction to any server event is spontaneous, a legitimate reaction; they aren’t trying to play any specific roles or shoehorn in any specific events (with the exception of the Red King/Hand of the King roles, who were still completely improvising). Even the finale – a distinctly heart-wrenching and tragic scene – was improvised without Grian or Scar attempting to tell any specific story. According to Martyn, they weren’t roleplaying, they didn’t have any aims with that scene. It just happened to turn out in the way that it did, and they were legitimately sorry to one another. The server progressed in this natural way, and every person’s perspective tells a completely different story. It’s hard to identify any specific heroes or villains – fans of the Dream SMP can surely relate to this feeling, but I would argue that 3rd Life takes this one step further. 3rd Life is a tragedy from all perspectives, a tragedy which tells one cohesive story in its entirety before stopping as abruptly as it began.

3rd Life hinges entirely on its interactions between its members. Whilst solo content does exist – base building, for example – the majority of each session is spent interacting with others. 3rd Life is carried by its dialogue; nothing else drives the story, and yet many episodes are between 30 minutes and an hour long. It’s that dialogue-heavy. Members of the server have expressed trouble with even editing their videos because there is so much key dialogue that they don’t want to cut. People don’t watch 3rd Life for the actual gameplay, at all – there’s so little of it! They watch it for how each member interacts with the people around them. This is something not found in any other SMP I’ve encountered. SMPs livestreamed on Twitch have plenty of downtime, and people will happily watch streams on that SMP no matter what’s occurring on the server; people often watch them for their interest in specific members. Other currently popular YouTube SMPs, namely Hermitcraft and Empires, are well-balanced between solo content and interactions, and all server content hinges on the members’ various skills like building and redstone. 3rd Life is, to my knowledge, the only SMP which does not rely on building or redstone skills (what’s the point, when they’ll be dead the next week?), it doesn’t rely on the creator doing solo work talking to their chat, it doesn’t rely on planned roleplay. People legitimately just want to hear various members talking to each other. It’s a fascinatingly unique series in this regard. This dialogue-heavy aspect of 3rd Life ties back to my earlier point about 3rd Life feeling like a completely different series from all perspectives; with all of this dialogue being conveyed through proximity chat, so many events are entirely left out of other POVs, or presented in very different lights.

The pure improv format also helps significantly with worldbuilding, whilst also leaving plenty to the imagination. MCYT fandoms always require a significant amount of imagination to become invested in them, let alone make fan content of them, and 3rd Life is no exception to this. As discussed in this post, which was incidentally the inspiration for me to write this one, 3rdLife is full of lines which flesh out the series, which illustrate what happened better than can be shown in Minecraft. These lines are improvised on the spot, and are often complete throwaway lines in the creators’ eyes. In the fans’ eyes, they make 3rd Life feel alive, they provide plenty of material on which to base headcanons. Again, this isn’t necessarily unique to 3rd Life, it’s a common aspect of all Minecraft series, but I think this is where the rather angsty nature of 3rd Life comes into play. A dramatic survival game, entirely unscripted, with all events hinging entirely on your interpretation of them? It’s not hard to see why 3rd Life fans are so creative with character designs and fanfiction – hell, a lot of 3rd Life fics simply narrate canon in their own more dramatic light. Canon-compliant fics are significantly more common for 3rd Life than other fandoms I've encountered, because people hear these simple lines and want to dramatise them, put their own spins on them. I don't feel that this would be possible with any other series, not to the extent that 3rd Life fans do it. Other series' canon is either already dramatic, and so rehashing it can feel repetitive, or so lighthearted that people write AUs/new storylines. 3rd Life strikes a brand-new balance.

The development of its characters is also bolstered by improv. As no events on the server are pre-planned, members have to react completely spontaneously to anything that occurs. They don’t get time to think – only to react as though they genuinely were in that situation. As I said at the start, 3rd Life inherently lacks bad writing, because it’s not written. Ren, for instance, began 3rd Life as a kind and harmless person, with others often walking right over him. His reaction to his death by Grian and Scar’s trap spurs him to become the Red King; he raises an army and goes to war, and ends the series having taken countless lives, becoming hardened by war. He begins Last Life by isolating himself from others, seeming jaded and unwilling to form alliances, ready for another war to break out. Being improvised, it’s impossible to say how much of this was deliberate, or if Ren just started building his base without thinking about continuity from the previous season. This improv is what makes it feel so natural. It isn’t planned beforehand. This is Ren’s natural reaction to starting Last Life. It makes his character feel so much more real than it would if this was all scripted beforehand.

3rd Life is, overall, a testament to the power of improv. It manages to be compelling and dramatic without any acting feeling forced or wooden. Its characters’ arcs feel natural, because they are natural. Placing such a heavy emphasis on dialogue, with the gimmick of the server being a vehicle for interactions to happen rather than the sole appeal of the series, makes it truly feel as though we’re getting a glimpse into the characters’ lives, rather than watching a story which has been written beforehand. We get to watch everything unfold in real time. 3rd Life has a magic to it that, to my knowledge, no other SMP has been able to recreate.

[mothwingwritings]

Special Treatment

F!Reader X Yujiro Hanma

Well, here is another Yujiro Hanma story. This time it’s from his POV and is a companion piece to In The Dead of Night, so it may be a bit confusing as a standalone. Regardless, now that it’s out of my system maybe I can focus on writing for other characters again. :D

WARNINGS: Stepcest, stalking, voyeurism, sexism, mentions of sex but no actual sex, use of the term daddy, trespassing, Yujiro being Yujiro, language.

Enjoy!

Yujiro Hanma was not a man you interrupted.

Not when he was speaking, not when he was relaxing, not when he was eating, and certainly not when he was training. Especially right now, when he had just started his morning routine, had barely finished his stretches, and was entirely in the zone. Anyone who did interrupt him in this state was either a complete idiot, or in this case, an ignorant child that didn’t know any better.

He could hear your tiny feet pattering down the hall from a mile away, knowing there was nothing in this wing of the house you could possibly need other than him. His irritation grew the closer you came, and he debated if he should intercept you and ingrain in your brain to never disrupt him again, or leave you to your devices and see if you had the gull to make it all the way to him. He leaned towards the latter, as he had to admit he couldn’t’ help being the tiniest bit intrigued. To the best of his knowledge, you were scared shitless of him. You definitely would not be seeking him out without a valid reason.

Yujiro had very little interest in his own children, let alone someone else’s.  It didn’t matter if they were his sexual partner’s or the offspring of someone he respected, if the kid didn’t show some form of promise in the art of battle they didn’t register on his radar. Needless to say tiny, meek, insignificant you definitely fell into that category.

So he had no reason at all to have an interest in you. You certainly weren’t his flesh and blood, and to him your mother was just a glorified doll of sorts, someone to fuck around with and relieve tension. Wasn’t really his fault she got some cushy idea in her head that she was special, that with enough nagging and persuasion he’d settle down with her and become the husband and father to her daughter that she always dreamed of having.

Your mother’s thought process was deluded, but she knew not to push her luck and was skilled in attending to him in just the way he liked, which was more than he could say for most of his extracurricular conquests. You, her sole child, were tolerable as well, being someone who was overall quiet, obedient, and mostly just kept to yourself and out of his way.  You were a pretty little thing too, sure to draw a crowd the older you got. He wasn’t easily charmed, but there was something undeniably pleasant about you. He chalked it up to novelty. He didn’t typically stick around for the birth and early stages of his own children, but the ones he knew of were all male. Having a little girl around was something new.

Yujiro’s back faced the entry way, but he could feel you presence lingering behind it as you worked up the courage to come in and tell him whatever you needed to say. Did your mother send you? Most likely, and if that was the case you were sure to have something annoying to request of him. She liked to send you to do her dirty work, thinking he would be less irritated if her foolish demands came from the lips of a child.

Annoyance was turning into mild anger at how long you were taking. It was radiating off his body when he heard the door squeak open, swiveling his head a fraction to monitor your entrance. From the corner of his eye he caught half of your tiny face peaking up at him from behind the door, you small hands gripping it like a lifeline. It was almost endearing that your child mind felt a door could act as protection from him.

However, the fact you even had the guts to make it this far was in and of itself amusing. He wasn’t going to acknowledge you, not yet. He wanted to see what your next course of action would be.

He proceeded with his training, paying you no mind. You remained quiet as he moved fluidly, practiced motions executed with the utmost precision. He could feel your eyes follow his movements, taking him in as he honed his body. A quick glance back noted a look of awe, reverence even, had overcome your young face. He smirked, pleased by your reaction. You seemed to know your place better than even your mother did.

After several minutes of this had passed, you caught on that he wasn’t going to address you. At this point you had snuck your way inside and plastered yourself against the back wall, doing your best to shrink down your already miniscule form, frightened of encroaching even an inch on Yujiro’s space. He noted that you had something in your hands, a small wrapped up box you were clutching protectively to your chest.

“Um, e-excuse me?”

Your quivering voice called to him, but it did not stop his stride. You took a small step forward, but didn’t drop your guard.

“I’m really sorry to bother you…”

Your words were once again met with a prolonged silence. With careful footing, you inched yourself a few feet into the room. He was curious to see how far you were willing to go before you fled.

“… D-daddy?”

The word sounded forced as it stuttered from your lips. Yujiro had never directed you on how to address him, but in the past you had always either used ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. Hanma’ (he preferred the first). This was a new development, something he was sure was another brilliant idea your mother had forced upon you. His body halted, and he turned slowly until his eyes locked with yours. You flinched under his piercing gaze, but otherwise remained still.

“What?” He barked, causing you to jump. You gripped the package a little tighter to your chest, but you remained silent, wide eyes staring up at him blankly. Yujiro frowned, “You forget how to speak? Spit it out, I’m busy.”

“I have a present for you,” The words spilled from your mouth in a flurry as you jutted the package his way. He noticed your small arms shaking as you held the box out to him, fingers pressing into it so hard it was warping the packaging and crinkling the paper it was encased in.

Today was just full of surprises.

“Why?” Yujiro commanded, turning his full attentions your way.

“I-it was your birthday,” you explained, a red hue coming to your round cheeks, “I’m sorry it’s late, I didn’t see you until now.”

It was true. Yujiro’s birthday had been several weeks ago. He didn’t spend it with your mother, or even in the country where you resided. Your mother had started to make a fuss about it a solid month in advance before he forcibly shut her up. She had nagged on and on about a party, decorations, catering- all shit he didn’t request or even remotely desire. It was his damn birthday so he spent it how he pleased, which just happened to be as far away from your harpy of a mother as he could get. Afterwards he had received a gift from her of course, but wasn’t expecting anything from you.

He stalked his way towards you, yanking the extended box from your hands when he approached. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and wrapped well with an attractive looking dark red paper. He wondered for a moment if you had done that on your own or if your mother had helped. A child’s scrawled handwriting on the tag denoted that the gift was for him from you. He held the box to his ear and shook it once, hearing nothing but a dull thud against the cardboard.

“Don’t,” you called, sounding flustered, “It could break!”

He snorted, “You sure you didn’t do that already with how hard you were gripping the damn thing?”

His comment made you blush harder, and he smirked. Maybe this whole situation was a ploy, some kind of tactic to try and lure him more towards your mother’s lofty goal of a family. You were certainly presenting yourself as an ideal daughter. Dressed to the nines, poofy dress matching the large bow sitting primly in your (hair color)ed  tresses, pure white knee socks complimenting the jet black of your mary jane shoes.  Red remained on your round cherubic cheeks, long doll-like lashes framing your expectant (eye color) eyes. You looked like you just walked out of a family photoshoot, and by most people’s standards, the way you were presented now was nothing short of adorable. Unfortunately for your mother, Yujiro wasn’t most people. Your beguiling appearance would not work on him so easily.

“Trying to suck up to me?” he spoke, ripping the paper from the box, “Would have been better to start with something that isn’t threatened to break at a tiny shake.”

You frowned, looking deeply uncomfortable as he ripped into the box. Yujiro realized how nervous you must be feeling, you were well aware the next moments that played out would either end amicably or with you deeply regretting interrupting him to begin with.

He dumped the contents of the box into his hand, his eyes traveling from your gaze to the gift. A small, handmade clay bowl now sat firmly in his palm. The sides of it were lumpy, too thick in some places and thin in others. There were intentional divots of varying sizes along both sides of the rim, and the depth of it was negligible, far too little for most everything you would need a normal bowl for. Despite its flaws, it was sturdy with some heft to its foundation. It had also been painted in varying shades of blue, small lines etched into it to simulate waves, and an even coat of glaze was applied to it which gave it an appealing shine.

“What is this?” Yujiro asked plainly, looking bored.

“It’s an ashtray,” you offered softly, “I made it.”

“I can tell. No one would pay money for something this sloppily constructed.”

Your entire body deflated at his comment, your clear (color) eyes glossing up and bottom lip quivering, but no tears ever spilled.

“If that’s it, leave,” he commanded, his voice harsh as he made his way back towards the center of the room, “And next time think a little harder before you interrupt something important with bullshit like this.”

You bowed, a garbled apology rushing from your down turned mouth. Skittering as quickly as you could to the exit, your foot caught on a small rug on the way out. You caught yourself before you could fall, the tips of your ears turning bright red in embarrassment as you exited the room, door shutting softly behind you.

Yujiro had received many gifts of varying importance in his illustrious life. Things were given him to appease him, praise him, celebrate him, or bargain with him. He’d tasted and experienced some of the best things the world had to offer through these gifts.

But no one before you had ever hand made him something.

He scoffed, pocketing the ashtray. “Mine as well make use of it.”

~

And now, years later, here he stood in your apartment.

You hadn’t invited him, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need permission to get in most places, why would his daughter’s home be any different? Besides, it happened on a whim anyway. He was bored, in town, and it had been awhile since he looked in on you. Yujiro was a busy man with a lot on his plate, the majority of his children he didn’t even bother to know the name of let alone drop by for a visit. But for whatever reason, when moments would get quiet and he’d be completely alone, his mind would often travel to you.

It wasn’t as if Yujiro went out of the way to check on you after he departed your life all those years ago. You were an afterthought, if anything. But somehow Baki got tangled up with you and keeping an eye on him would occasionally bring news of you. When Yujiro had gotten indefinitely tired of your mother he figured that would be the end of you in his life as well. However, he caught wind that you were alive, contacting Baki, and had even tried to get the cops to go after him for what he had done to your mother, and he couldn’t help but find it hilarious. Little docile (name) who always did what you were told and never stepped out of line, trying to get some form of revenge against him? Consider him amused.

With newly formed interest, he began to watch you grow from afar, from child, to teen, to adult. He ended up being right too, you did grow into a beautiful woman. If only that beauty extended to your personality, as you had become quite the wiseass when you reached adulthood. You couldn’t help but seem to run your mouth in the rare chances he spoke to you, shooting him dirty glares and just all around being a brat. He could fix that easily, but there was something appealing to him about your little attitude problem. He took a sense of pride in being a constant thorn in your side, someone you tried desperately to shake, but just couldn’t quite do so. He knew your vibrato helped mask how truly frightened he made you. The main reason you were so adamantly dodging all contact was because you were worried what might happen to you once he got you, right?

So he let you and run your mouth for now, it was something that would be fun to fix. And since you seemed so hell bent on avoiding him, he decided to go out of his way to visit to you. Weren’t you special?

It wasn’t the first time Yujiro had been to your apartment, but it was the first time he had been in its interior. He had scoped the place out numerous times in the past and concluded it would have been easy enough to get access inside, but he had found another complex a block down from you that just so happened to be newly renovated, so plenty of apartments were open for lease. As it worked out, the building also had a few more stories than yours, and one of the apartments in particular gave a nice little peek right into your apartment, as long as you had binoculars (or the keen eyesight Yujiro had). Lucky for him, you liked to keep your windows open, giving him a full view into your private happenings with you none the wiser. He usually wasn’t one to creep around and watch from afar, much preferring his presence to be known. But there was a reward in seeing you unguarded in your natural habitat, unwittingly baring your true self to him. It was exciting knowing that at any moment he could disrupt that peace in an instant. In those moments of vulnerability, he would relish watching you so at ease and blissfully unaware. His hawk like gaze would hone in on your form as you graced him with his own private strip show, peeling off layer after layer until your body was bare, a wolfish grin plastered upon his face as he mused over how you would respond if he were to barge in on you right then and there? When he did decide to stop by for a visit, there was no place to run off to when you were already safe at home, was there?

Needless to say, he rented the apartment.

It was interesting how the world worked. Some kid who by all means he had no reason or desire to have any form of bond with, was now an adult he was actively keeping watch over. Go figure.

On this particular night, he’d busted in your back door, figuring overall that would cause less of a scene. It was almost comical how easy the locking mechanism crumbled with the tiniest amount of force. Was this supposed to protect you? He snorted, making a mental note to ask Strydum to replace it with something stronger.

Initially he wasn’t sure if you would be home or not. But based on how late it was he leaned towards discovering you nestled on the bed or couch, relaxed and ready for a calm night before bed. When he was only greeted with silence, he decided he mine as well make use of his free time before your imminent arrival.

Your apartment was on the smaller side, but neat and properly cared for. He could tell that you put time and effort into decorating it, little touches here and there marking the rented space as your own. It was cozy, inviting, and everywhere he looked so reminiscent of you. He would have liked something more spacious while he waited for you, and overall would have preferred to not have to wait at all, but was glad he decided to stop by and the extra time gave him the chance to make himself at home.

He made his way through the apartment, scrutinizing gaze sweeping over your domain, taking it all in. He gave no second thought to barging into your bedroom, and he wasn’t shocked to see that much like the rest of the apartment, it was compact. You utilized your space well though, your bed and other furniture arranged to give you as much space as possible. This room in particular seemed to ooze you, a little microcosm of various physical belongings catered to your tastes and personality.  It was a bit messy, with clothes strewn about and empty water bottles on the dresser, but it was not dirty. A pleasant scent hung in the air that didn’t seem to be in any other part of the apartment. Floral and feminine, is that what you smelled like? You never got close enough to Yujiro for him to tell.

Walking around the room, he rustled through your clothing and belongings with a bored disinterest. You had quite an extensive wardrobe, but any article of clothing he saw would be much more appealing either on your body or destroyed and littered on the floor pre-coitus. Not that he had any true desire to know of your fashion, to Yujiro it was enough just to look, disrupt a few things so that later on you would be aware he had been there.

Immediately exiting your bedroom, his attentions were drawn to a wall of photos. Colorful frames brought life to the cream colored walls, the pictures within them of varying topics drawing him closer. Here you were before him, preserved in various stages of life, capturing you on trips and spending time with loved ones. His eyes stopped on an image of you and your mother. Seeing the two of you together made him realize just how much you took after her in looks. You weren’t entirely her spitting image, but the family resemblance was undeniable. He didn’t know what your birth father looked like nor did he give a shit, but he couldn’t help but try and search for some of his own features in your young face, regardless of you not truly having any of his genes. He mused momentarily on what it would be like if you were truly his kin. Would his feelings towards you be any different? He snorted at the asinine thought.

His eyes darted down to a smaller picture directly beneath the one of you and your mother. Not much bigger than a Polaroid, there wasn’t anything particularly flashy about the photo itself that would have made him take notice. However when his eyes fell upon the subject’s in the image, he began to feel agitated.

You were in the picture, and you were beaming. By far the happiest you looked in any of the other photos on the wall, the smile on your face radiated warmth, sincerity, and pure joy. There was only one other person in the picture with you, a boy. He looked equally as pleased, a delighted grin befell his lips while his scrawny arm was draped snuggly across your shoulder. You were leaning into him (or was he pulling you?), your head resting snuggly against his chest as he in turn rested his cheek on you head. Captured forever in time this way, the frame that surrounded it was dainty and pink, highlighting the romantic feel of it all.

Yujiro frowned as he plucked the photo off the wall, it dawning on him that this had to be your boyfriend. You looked much the way you do now, meaning that this was taken recently, and judging from the background foliage it could even have potentially been from this season. He tutted in disappointment, this ‘man’ hanging all over you was scrawny, pathetic, and weak. If you were going to go for a man he needed to be just that, a man. Not some little bitch that would fall over if the wind was too strong.

He glanced up at the clock. About a half hour had passed. Is this idiot who was keeping you out so late? Was he really stuck here twiddling his thumbs while you were out fucking around with some two-bit twerp? You were honestly making him, Yujiro Hanma, wait for you while you what, sucked off some kid at his even smaller apartment?

His agitation turned to anger. Effortlessly, he crushed the photo in his palm, frame and all. He reared his arm back, and with a flick of his wrist, sent the memory flying through your back door. Good riddance.

Pissed off, he stormed to your couch. It audibly groaned beneath him as he flung his body onto it in a rage. Kicking his feet up on table before him, he glared daggers at your front door. As much as he hated waiting, expending time and energy by going out and hunting for you irked him even more. He shouldn’t have to go after you. If anything you were the one who should be seeking his company and approval.

So he would sit and wait patiently for your arrival, stewing up suitable punishments in his head the whole time. He scoffed. Here he was, the strongest being the world, waiting like a goddamn dog for their owner to come home. The fact that he was still even in your shitty home was perplexing. He was even confusing himself with this bullshit.

But then again, you were his only daughter, so maybe you deserved some special treatment?

~

Yujiro was brought to attention by the sound of your footsteps on the outer stairs. He must have dozed off, as glancing up at the clock it was now very early in the morning. He sighed, stretching his body a bit to shake off the residual sleep. His little nap helped cool his head, which was good for you. He was no longer ready to unleash his fury as soon as you stepped through the door.

But that didn’t mean you were getting out of your transgressions easily. He waited a long time to have some quality time with you, and it was only right of you to answer all of your concerned father’s questions and give him your undivided attention, wasn’t it?

Yujiro hadn’t turned on any of the lights in your apartment, but he could still see you clearly as you squeezed past the doorway. With eyelids so heavy you were struggling to keep them open and heavily drooping shoulders, you looked absolutely exhausted. And you must have been to not even be aware of his overwhelming presence perched several feet from where you stood.

He smirked as he watched you yawn and bolt the door closed behind you. With your guard completely down, now was as good a time as any to make his presence known.

“Isn’t it a little late to be slinking back home?” Yujiro called out to you, a condescending air to his voice.

You whole demeanor instantly changed. Your slouched body jerked to attention, a slight shake relaying a shiver had passed through you. You remained turned from him until you hesitantly flipped the light switch, turning your gaze his direction painfully slowly, not wanting to face the reality you knew was behind you.

As your eyes locked, a rush of excitement coursed through him. Dread, despair, confusion, bits of anger, all swirling around in your (eye color) gaze as you took him in. He did a quick once over, noticing nothing amiss about your appearance or attire that would insinuate you had any kind of sexual encounter, but also not trusting that moments ago you weren’t giving your body to some nobody and were just good at putting yourself back together.

As his focus traveled back to your eyes he noted how conflicted they looked. Your mind was probably running a mile a minute, scrambling to come up with a reason for why he would be in your apartment unannounced, especially at this hour.  

And that question reflected the strongest emotion you were currently feeling, fear. True unadulterated fear was staring right back at him as you mentally questioned why he was here, and what he planned on doing to you. Yet even with the terror, you stood your ground. He truly was pleased that you didn’t try and run the moment you realized your fate. With how timid and fidgety you could be you always managed to surprise him with the amount of backbone you exhibited. Much like all those years ago when you were the little girl with the gift, you didn’t give in to your palpable fright. Maybe things weren’t so different as they were back then, it’s just that now your gift to him was going to come in a different, much better, form.

When you neglected to verbally respond, Yujiro spoke again.

“How’s my (name) tonight? Or maybe at this point I should say morning.”

This seemed to break you out of your trance, your confusion and fear waning in favor of irritation, your haughty little attitude starting to peak through. How was this going to play out, he wondered? How much longer until he would have to do the fatherly thing and teach you a lesson in respect?

Whatever course the night took, it was sure to be fun. He went out of the way to come here so he would make it worth his while.

Being your daddy did have its perks, after all.