#opinion completely and utterly discarded

[nixiecat]

can't believe someone tried to tell me to shave my pits on the hairy dyke pits website

[maxdibert]

Miss Huang is just a reflection of what Cobel and probably Milchick once were: children used, exploited, and psychologically manipulated to serve and be loyal to Lumon. Her addition this season now makes complete sense; it’s a way of showing us just how deeply the company employs the usual mechanisms of a cult—recruiting its members from childhood, manipulating them, brainwashing them, holding them responsible as adults for mistakes made at a young age, denying them the ability to have opinions or to think for themselves beyond the precepts of the cult, and robbing them of a normal childhood.

The fact that when the children finish their “internship,” they have to leave behind an object of emotional value and destroy it, and that Milchick carefully chooses something that still ties Miss Huang to that childish mindset—to the part of her that wants to play, to be a normal child—is utterly terrifying but also disturbingly realistic if you think about how cults manipulate their younger members by denying them the chance to enjoy the most crucial stages of cognitive development. Milchick looks at himself, reprimanding himself for indulging in a childish mindset, projecting his own experience onto Huang, likely thinking of the child he once was, just like her, and the things he must now deny himself as he denies them to her—because that’s the way of Kier.

And then there’s Cobel, who represents the future of all three: someone who gave her life to Lumon and Kier, only for the corporation to take everything from her, including the ideas that led to her success, and ultimately discard her as if she were just an obsolete cog in a vast machine. It’s brilliant, truly brilliant. Huang, Milchick, and Cobel somehow embody the past, present, and future of the organization’s workers and how their path and fate unfold within the company.

And all of this is revealed in tiny doses, in ways that seem meaningless at first, until eventually, when you have enough pieces of the puzzle, you can see the entire perspective and realize that none of it was placed there by chance. Beyond their individual storylines, there is a collective narrative that essentially shows us how Lumon’s mechanisms of manipulation work. Honestly, this seems like one of the most brilliant scripts I’ve ever seen. Seriously, this show is a masterpiece.

[eksvaized]

What if, in an alternate universe, instead of being battle-hardened men, TF141 was a famous band? I know it’s a silly thought, but I can’t get it out of my mind.

In my mind, Kyle would definitely be the lead vocalist, who once in a while picks up a guitar. Like, his charm is literally irresistible, and he has this unique quality of being able to carry even the most awkward interviews: he always has the perfect timing, knowing exactly when to joke, when to lightly shade other artists, and when to not-so subtly flirt with an attractive interviewer.

Unlike his bandmates, Kyle also tends to steer clear of trouble, avoiding the drama and controversy that so often follows other bands. His biggest scandal to date, if it can be considered one, was a rumour about his escapades during the band’s tour across America. He supposedly slept with 50 different women, each one from a different state.

And while it was indeed a big deal for such news to erupt within the music industry, it didn’t come as a complete surprise, given Kyle’s reputation as a notorious flirt.

Johnny — a bass player. No doubts about that. When he’s performing during concerts, he becomes a force of nature, a whirlwind of chaotic energy that doesn’t seem to understand the concept of slowing down or taking a break. He’s constantly on the move and bouncing around from one side to another. At times, he’ll dive off the stage to interact with fans, often leaving his signature on some over-excited female’s cleavage. Other times, he can be seen on his knees, utterly lost in the rhythm of the music, grinding to its beat with his eyes closed as if in a trance—this is the most calm he can be during a gig.

Apart from his musical talents and electric stage presence, Johnny has another talent - a knack for attracting attention, particularly from the media. His face graces the pages of magazines on a weekly basis—an occurrence that he insists is accidental rather than intentional. However, Johnny is notoriously outspoken—he has never been one to hold back his tongue or shy away from expressing his opinions, regardless of how they might be received. And so, while refreshing, his candidness often lands him in hot water, especially when his remarks come across as controversial.

Price, Price, Price. Definitely a band manager, and not because I think he couldn’t keep up with the guys. Oh no, that’s not it. It’s just that in my head, I can picture him standing in the unlit corner of the backstage, a lit cigar dangling between his fingers as he counts money. Every so often, he nonchalantly tucks some bills under his belt. He thinks he deserves some extra cash because, yet again, he had to clean up the mess that Johnny made.

What did Johnny do? Apparently, he decided to wear a kilt onstage. The choice of attire wasn’t the issue itself. The problem arose from his decision to go commando, wearing no briefs underneath. Price obviously had to execute some serious damage control and pay off literally everyone who came to see the band. Otherwise, the pictures of Johnny’s dick would have flooded the internet the second people left the venue.

And then there’s Riley, who dominates the drums. Like, just imagine him on the stage, drops of sweat forming on his furrowed brow as he immerses himself in the rhythm. His shirt is discarded, tossed aside as heat radiates off him in palpable waves, and his blond hair is in disheveled from the constant, frenzied head banging — literally every woman’s wet dream.

Sadly, even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stalk him on social media and drool over his shirtless pictures because all of his accounts are set to private. And because of how secretive he is about his personal life—unlike Kyle or Johnny, who don’t mind talking in interviews and sharing some details about what they get up to—the media has nicknamed Simon a Ghost.

Further contributing to his elusive image is a running joke among fans and media that the band doesn’t actually consist of three members, but is instead a duo of Kyle and Johnny. This is primarily because Simon seldom appears at public events. Even when a promotional interview is arranged for an upcoming tour or album, he tries to avoid attending by using every possible excuse, only to be eventually forced into it by Price.

What about you, though? Well, the answer to the question is obvious. You’re definitely a fan, but not the crazy stalker type. You just buy all their albums, follow them on every social media platform, and occasionally watch an interview or two, so you could gawk at how handsome all of them are.

So, when the news broke that they were having a concert in a city near you, you didn’t hesitate for a second. You purchased a ticket almost immediately, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you at the thought of watching them perform live. And the actual concert? It was the most fun you’d had in a long time. Even the fact that you went alone didn’t dampen your mood.

However, probably the part of the night that sent your heart racing, that made it beat the fastest, was an unexpected turn of events. You somehow, almost miraculously, managed to find yourself in the band’s tour bus. You were there, with Kyle’s hand lightly resting on your lower back, as he introduced you to the guys - Johnny, Price, and even Simon.

His exit left a strange silence, and your mind began to race; Price’s behavior seemed to confirm the rumors that had been circulating about Kyle might be true.

Price, to your surprise, did not seem taken aback by your arrival. He extended a hand towards you, the shake firm and lingering just a tad bit longer than necessary. His gaze then shifted over your shoulder, landing on Kyle and giving him a warning look before he excused himself to step outside.

Next, you were introduced to Johnny, whose demeanor was almost as tactile as Kyle’s, if not more so. He greeted you with a bear-like hug that almost crushed your ribs, squeezing the air out of your lungs. His wide grin was so broad it seemed almost idiotic. After releasing you from the embrace, Johnny leaned in close to Kyle, whispering something barely audible yet unmistakably complimentary, something that sounded suspiciously like ‘this one’s stunning’, before giving Kyle a hearty, brotherly clap on the back. You did your best to brush off Johnny’s remark, to dismiss it from your mind for fear of your face betraying your embarrassment by turning a bright shade of red.

Simon was sitting near the tiny window that allowed the soft glow of the moonlight to filter in. His long legs were spread wide in a display of relaxed confidence, and one arm was nonchalantly tossed over the leather couch’s backrest. He had yet to utter a single word. Which he did when Kyle mentioned you were here because you fancied a picture with them. This caught Simon’s attention.

At that point, the only thing keeping you standing straight was Kyle’s hand on your back. You knew, deep down, that you should decline this offer. Your mind was practically shouting at you to return to your rented motel room, reminding you of the early train you had to catch the following morning.

Simon turned to look at you, and you had no choice but to avert your gaze because it literally felt like he was undressing you with his eyes, as his lips curled into a sly, almost predatory smirk. “How about something better?” He suggested, his voice filled with a teasing lilt. “Have a drink with us.”

But how could you possibly refuse such an offer from your favourite band? Especially when you found yourself living the dream of every fan girl out there.

It was too tempting to resist.

[pangaeaseas]

Lily marrying James isn’t a betrayal. It was, however, completely incomprehensible to me as a child reading for the first time and honestly still is after gaining life experience. Why would anyone get with somebody they witness violently abusing others for kicks, even if a mere year or two later they claim to have cleaned up their act - that was still a core part of their character?! He might’ve been charming and confident and good to people he likes, but he also sexually assaults somebody with considerably less privilege in public, which should’ve been enough of a crime to put any girl off for good even if the victim was now somebody she had cause to hate. I’d have been totally behind it if it had been a purely strategic decision to take a pureblood name in wartime! That’s pragmatism, it makes sense! But it’s written as true love, and tbh it’s never sat well with me what that says about Lily’s character, and what it says about JKR’s attitude towards the awful idea that the love of a good woman can fix abusive men.

Thanks for leaving me a reasonable response, I was a little afraid I would get people with utterly wild takes screaming at me in my inbox for that post!

Yeah, I don't think Lily marrying James is a betrayal, I'm glad we agree on that.

A lot of how we interpret J*ly depends on how we interpret James and Lily based on the very, *very* limited and biased information we receive about them. The reader can never know the full truth about them and truly know them as people, because they died pre-story and Harry will forever be learning out of context things about his dead parents without ever truly knowing them. Which, to veer a little off the main subject of the ask, is honestly a choice that really works for me as someone who lost a parent young. Receiving biased information and trying to judge based off of that while having to accept you can never form your own opinion is just how it is, for Harry and for anyone else in his position.

The thing is, the reader is placed in Harry's position. James and Lily are characters we can make extrapolations about, yes, but we don't have enough information to fully understand them. You cannot really do the same kind of deep dives on them you can do with a character like Snape, Lupin, or Sirius, because there isn't very much material there. So any argument about James and Lily will by its very nature involve a hell of a lot of speculation.

What we get about James doesn't look very good. I don't want to minimize James's terrible actions in that scene. His interaction with Lily there is a really bad way to treat her and it doesn't speak well of the future of their relationship. (And he is also terrible to Snape, obviously, but the rest of this ask isn't about Snape so I won't go more into that). To be quite honest I think some of it is JKR trying to write a rom-com bickering enemies to lovers dynamic between them but for many readers it falls flat as the implications of him trying to get her to go out with him in exchange for releasing Snape are pretty terrible. And most positive information about James we receive is through biased sources like his best friends, though I don't think we should totally discard the fact that he was a good friend to Sirius and Remus and devoted his life to fighting against the Death Eaters--potentially good qualities Lily might have liked about him. Also, in SWM, he makes a point of NOT calling Lily a Mudblood and condemning the slur, which...you are really not the moral authority here, James, but at least you are trying not to be blood supremacist--and that would be a stark contrast to someone Lily trusted suddenly calling her it. We just..don't know all that much about him, so we can either take only his bad traits or try to extrapolate some good ones (or draw out the good traits he does have canonically), depending on what you personally want to do with him.

You say that 'any girl' would be put off by James, but, well, there are a lot of reasons people are attracted to each other. People have been attracted to more terrible people all the time. Whether or not James and Lily's relationship was abusive, people stay with their abusers for all sorts of complex reasons and it feels somewhat dismissive to say 'oh, I wouldn't do that'...you're not in that position. Just because you personally wouldn't do something doesn't make it an impossible decision for someone.

And there is evidence that James matured as a person, though you can feel free to be unconvinced by it. We don't know what Lily saw in James. We can feel free to imagine it how we want to, as a fandom. I just don't think we should really be critiquing her for something largely speculative, and we especially shouldn't be using her dating James as a reason to bash her for ending her friendship with Snape. Lily is allowed to date James without it being about Snape, because she is an autonomous person with her own wants, needs, and desires. Of course, these are my interpretations influenced by my subjective reading of the text.

The final point you make is, I think, a really good one. I have a lot of problems with how J*ly is written in the books! And I do think it is absolutely influenced by the trope of a Good Woman redeeming a Bad Man. That doesn't mean said trope is the only way J*ly can be written in fic and understood in the fandom. But yeah, Lily is written in some very troubling ways...fandom discourse about her just often becomes even more troubling. My ultimate problem with the 'Lily is a bad friend' line of argument is honestly a critique of the exact same trope: the idea that Lily's purpose as a character is entirely to redeem Snape, that she was responsible for fixing him and saving him. Saying that Lily was a bad friend to Snape for not forgiving him for calling her a racial slur and specifically demeaning the help she offered him--and for not preventing him from joining the Death Eaters, even though it was his choice to do so, is misogynistic! The text is obviously not free of misogyny but fandom isn't either, which is why the Bad Friend Lily take gets me so mad because it plays into a misogynistic trope!(Thinking about it, I do wonder if the framing of Lily 'saving' James in the text is why people want her to 'save' Snape...)

Anyway, I hope this doesn't come off as condescending or rude, it's an interesting subject to discuss and it's not my intention to attack you at all. Thanks for the ask!

[deadgirlwalking91]

What are your top 5 Adam, Lute, and GuitarSpear headcanons?

Hey Anon,

I love headcanons! 😊 Here we go... (under the cut because it's longgggg)

Adam

The type to pick up random hobbies, be utterly obsessed with them for a while, then eventually discard them for something else fun and exciting. Only a few have stuck with him through the years—namely, playing the guitar and cooking. Yes, I think Adam would be an amazing cook with a genuine appreciation for food and culture.

Also the type to be naturally talented at a lot of different things. Which is lucky for him, because he's also lazy and can't be bothered putting a whole lot of effort into things, unless he really, really loves what he's doing (see: guitar)

The more I dwell on it, the more I think Adam and Sera do have a close relationship. I wouldn't necessarily say mother/son coded, but I think if he came to her for advice—or if she sensed that he needed guidance—they'd put aside their boss/employee dynamic and have a good heart-to-heart where he'd value her opinion.

Getting a little NSFW for this one, but I feel he'd be more of a giver than a receiver in bed. He's had that much sex over the years that for him, knowing he's getting somebody else off is just as much of a turn-on as receiving. That's not to say he doesn't love getting taken care of, though ;)

LOVES the Exorcists to bits. Genuinely gets along with them all, and loves seeing them grow and succeed with each Extermination. Will socialise with them, play card/board games with them (which tends to get violent and chaotic), sometimes they go to him for advice, etc. On the flip side though— a Discord server I'm in recently had a discussion about whether Exorcists get their periods or not and if so, would they all sync up? And honestly, my answer to both is a resounding Y E S which means that for a week every month, Adam has to deal with hundred of PMSing women. I have a theory that they all also exhibit similar symptoms which change every cycle, so he's constantly kept on his toes (and probably trying not to be killed). Is this true? Look, probably not, but it's still a fun as fuck concept to think about!

Lute

To contrast my first Adam headcanon, Lute would be a god-awful cook. She burns pasta. Does not give a shit about food, cooking etc. Could live off protein shakes if she could, but deep down loves the food Adam cooks.

Lute and Vaggie were friends before The Maiming. I genuinely believe they were close—possibly besties—then, Vaggie started expressing her discomfort with the Exterminations, and they drifted apart. I don't necessarily think they had a falling out before Lute and Adam left Vaggie in Hell, but they certainly weren't friends anymore. I also think, should the show go down the route of Sinner Adam, Fallen Lute and the both of them joining the Hotel that there's potential for them to repair their relationship, despite everything (or maybe that's wishful thinking on my behalf because I do love the idea of them being friends).

Assuming Lute is Heavenborn, she is the way that she is because she doesn't know any different. Being a genocidal maniac is what she was created to be. I genuinely think that there's potential for her to change her tune about Hell, Sinners, the Exterminations etc but it's going to take a LOT for it to happen (I strongly maintain that the line 'Everyone can be redeemed/From the evil to the strange' from 'Happy Day in Hell' is foreshadowing this). If it does, her loyalties will lie with Charlie and the Hotel, and she'll stop being quite so rigid with her views. It's giving growth.

In saying that—she has her vices, and I think they'd be something in complete contrast to her tough exterior. Think rom-coms, romance novels, 90's boy/girl bands, trashy reality TV, luxurious bubble baths, etc. Something that you'd never expect from a bad bitch like Lute. Adam knows about them all, and she's threatened to kill him multiple times if he breathes a word of them to anybody.

Also loves and adores the Exorcists, but doesn't show it. Someone has to play bad cop during work, and it sure as hell isn't gonna be Adam. Still, she feels a strong sense of pride whenever they succeed, and wishes she could be close to them. She's just a little awkward and doesn't know how to balance that boss/friend relationship with them.

GuitarSpear

Their relationship is the worst-kept secret in Heaven. Both of them staunchly deny there is anything going on between them, but the amount of times they've been caught in compromising positions by the other Exorcists is laughable. There's betting pools on when/where they finally admit they're together. The girls also tease Lute about it mercilessly in the locker room after training, much to her annoyance.

They are a very touchy-feely couple, but in different ways. Adam is handsy and grabby, whereas Lute will do smaller, subtler gestures like a hand resting on his arm or lower back, will lean against him, etc. The only exception is that she tends to climb him like a cat—which he doesn't really mind. She'll also force her way into his lap and curl up against him.

They don't live together, but they might as well. Lute spends most of her spare time at his place, keeps clothes and toiletries there, makes herself at home. The only reason they haven't moved in is because they're trying (and failing) to keep their relationship under wraps.

I actually can't decide who fell first, and who fell harder. I can see it happening both ways. I think I like the idea of Lute's attraction to him being more of a slow-burn and something that evolved over time. Whereas Adam's is a lot faster, and he is super confused by it all and can't figure out why all of a sudden he is SO attracted to Lute. It then makes him super awkward around her (like, can't get his words out properly awkward), she gets all concerned something's wrong with him, and it creates this fun little scenario where you want to bash their heads together and tell them to just communicate.

NSFW-ish: I picture them as more of a switch couple in bed, rather than having set top/bottom or dom/sub roles. Given their personalities, I can see them fighting/struggling for power and dominance in the bedroom on a regular basis. That's not to say there aren't times where they do willingly take a top/bottom role (Lute after a long day letting Adam take care of her? Swoon. But also, the power dynamic shifting so that Lute calls the shots? Y E S). I just like the visual of them rolling around, pinning each other to the bed, leaving scratch and bite marks all over each other's bodies in the process. Honestly, I think sex between them would mostly be rough, frenzied and raw, but they also would have their slower, sensual moments (see TYFTV 17 as an example) that are just as intense and passionate. If you got through alllll of that, I applaud you, haha! But seriously, thanks Anon, this was fun to write out <3

[rubra-wav]

Vox's death - personal headcanons/rambles

A/N I've been sitting on this for a while HDHDH

A lot of this is building on prior headcanons of mine and shots in the dark based on vibes so yeah - I could be completely wrong in season 2 and thus I will eat my hat if that's the case /lh

Just wanted to throw my thoughts out there on this 🙏

CW: SFW, murder, mentions of suicide/mental breakdown, references to staticmoth, angst

In my personal opinion Vox didn't die from a TV falling on his head: he died from poisoning.

The first thing that differs from a lotta stuff I keep seeing is that I don't think the red lines that come from Vox's mouth are actually Val's saliva from kissing him.

In some scenes, it probably is (like in the poison music vid) but when he's very obviously done with Val's bs during the off periods in their relationship that they go through? Nah.

It just wouldn't make sense that it's always from Val. Especially when we have examples like the beginning of episode 8. It just starts seeping from his mouth as he's saying the "I can't wait to watch you get fucked" line.

They show up whenever he's more unstable (like in Stayed Gone) and/or when he's having a sadistic power high (ep 8 ) and is particularly out of his mind.

I think it's symbolic of actually being blood from being poisoned in an instance when he was like that in his life.

Actually getting into it: The leadup to his death

Regardless of how it happened exactly, imo in the end every single one of his relationships while he was alive broke down in the height of his popularity.

He became more and more insufferable to keep around: constantly egotistical and looking down on everyone the more famous and powerful he grew, and became utterly obsessed with maintaining his power. (Also what he's doing in hell - fixated at all times on appearing a certain way and staying at the top)

His mental state declined terribly as he grew paranoid that he would lose his control and have to start from where he was (which wasn't good to say the least), and all of his friends and family left due to how he treated them which only added to his instability due to having no support system.

Not that it would have changed much because yeesh.

The second someone would try to reality check him (if they did) during this time, it only would have made him even more unstable.

He most likely believed that stepping on everyone to maintain his power was more important than anything, and meeting someone who disagreed, he would have just discarded them without a second thought, all the while internalising it deep down to be brought back up whenever he finally crashed.

His actual death

I have two main headcanons of how the poisoning may have gone:

1. The first main one is that he was murdered.

He treated his staff so badly during his gradually worsening mental decline that one (or maybe more) got so fed up by his poor treatment of them that his morning coffee was poisoned, and while on air he started spitting up blood and then died (hence why his head is a TV).

This one makes particular sense to me because the red lines show up when he's being a sadistic asshole - as he would have been leading up to his murder.

2. The second: he poisoned himself on purpose as suicide.

His mental state declined so much, so stuck in his delusions of grandeur that when he was either reality checked and it actually took hold of him or his content started performing badly in comparison to someone else's he experienced the inevitable crash after having a high in that way and had a full on breakdown (or both tbh).

Him taking a stance of 'I'd rather die now while eyes are still on me then when they're all gone again and my existence is unknown once again'.

I think it's far likelier the former, though considering everything.

I am probably reading too damn much into all this but like... the brainrot is all-consuming.

I want to write a fic about his death at some point but like.. I don't think anyone would gaf enough to read it for one, and I also have a bunch of stuff I'm already working on that my brain is buffering about/lh

I'm thinking about how bad he's probably gonna be done in season 2 and slightly dying inside. I HOPE I'm proved wrong so desperately bc I love him too damn much.

Either way I do NOT think there is enough time to properly explore his chara even if Viv wanted to dip into the interesting asf things under the surface. 🗿

My masterlist

[agathabridgerton]

and i don’t think gale was lying to himself about why he got the orb. he was trying to obtain it as a gift to mystra. he tells you exactly why he was doing that lol. gale tells you that he convinced himself that if he could somehow prove to mystra that he was worthy of wielding more magic that she would give it to him. like, he was groomed, of course his ambition then is going to be confined to chasing mystra’s coattails and begging for her approval. especially then because she was bored of their relationship, so he had the extra incentive of convincing her to keep him as a lover instead of discarding him and keeping him around as a trophy, as a loyal little servant like azuth and elminster. he was trying to change the ending of the most significant relationship in his life, the person who defined his entire life. he was at risk of losing what he felt he’d worked his whole life towards. he was groomed into believing that his only worth was his magic, so what does it say about him if he’s not good enough to please the very goddess of magic? that there must be something wrong with him.

that’s not to say that he’s perfect and can do no wrong and holds no blame, but i do think it’s a case of gale being in a toxic environment, being encouraged to indulge in his ambition and ego by mystra to serve her purposes. he has his vices, but we can see in the game that when he is given positive feedback and appreciated for who he is that he finds he doesn’t need to be whoever mystra wanted him to be. versus if you encourage him to take the crown, he obviously becomes utterly consumed by those vices.

mystra has reason to do that because we can see with elminster (particularly in gale’s origin) that he realizes that he was party to gale’s abuse and feels terrible about it. you get a letter from him in act 2 where elminster’s trying to right his wrong by encouraging gale to find another way to deal with the netherbrain, and in the letter he expresses that doing so should’ve been gale’s task all along. azuth is bound to mystra by his portfolio as a god and can never stray from it. gale was bound to mystra by being groomed into it and molding his vices to her confines. but elminster is not bound to mystra exactly like that, at least not anymore since their relationship ended a long time ago, so he sees things with more clarity than gale. he knows he’s going against mystra, challenging her; he has to sneak around to offer gale his real advice. mystra knows she has elminster under her thumb, though, regardless of his opinions—but she didn’t yet have gale completely wrapped around her finger, he was still rough around the edges to her.

[samqaouy]

I don’t really have opinions on anything tangible, i just have dramatised fake reactions and opinions in a pathetic, embarrassing attempt to appear more human to people, but my angle on trying to be a person changes so often that i never developed at least a solid persona, or if i had one, it melted away when i tried something new. So now im desperately trying to piece back together the self i had before, the friendships that self had, the life that person lived, and failing miserably so instead i stay in my bed and live so apathetically i can’t even find it in myself to cry over it. Instead i write this stupid shit in a weak attempt to attain the help I’m too lazy to even care about properly, so in my head, this is more a silent prayer that someone one day might just understand what’s going on in my head on their own or maybe even by seeing this, considering someday i finally get up and try make myself understood

But right now I’m far too lazy, and it all seems pointless, i don’t really care anyway, I’m just jealous of people who can make themselves understood and develop strong friendships because right now i am completely and utterly friendless

I’m not really all that good company, and i only care about things i care about and most time if i do say anything in conversation, it’s ingenious and it always seems robotic anyway so it doesn’t even serve its purpose in trying to add to the conversation so im not deemed unenjoyable and discarded .

I keep imagining this scenario, I’m laid out on some faceless friends bed, they’re on their phone and the moon is falling through the curtains, we probably just had some sort of ‘deep’ conversation and then i say ‘you know, this time last year, i tried to kill myself.’ Whenever i imagine the face they’d make, i picture the sort of faux worry and distress, like an adult might give a child crying over a scraped knee. I’ll pay no mind to their reaction, I’ll continue, probably ignoring them through the rest of my monologue “yeah, sent me to hospital and everything. I remember being in an empty waiting room with my mum, stone faced, i remember peering over to her phone ‘she wants to kill herself’ she would type. I sat there, there was this feeling that id never felt before, i was about to cry but couldn’t, about to vomit, but couldn’t. The lump in my throat was persistant, a cold tuna sandwich sat untouched in my lap, i was starving but i couldn’t eat.” I’ll stop there, probably run out of things to say far earlier in reality, and I’ll sit through their weak consolation, maybe they’d poorly pat my back, maybe they’d just stare at me unable to speak. That sounds best really. I’d play some music and we’d sit in silence

[angelo-the-whistleblower]

Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "If I happen to speak with Shania Twain, what message would you like me to convey?" Angelo (POW): "Tell her that if she were still in her thirties, I would undoubtedly be pursuing her. However, at 59, that opportunity has passed. She possesses a voice that is utterly captivating—irresistible, even. I only wish she were still in her prime years." Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "It’s unfortunate that you are younger than her. I can understand your sentiment—if she were still 30, things would certainly be different, and you would be chasing her." Angelo (POW): "Precisely! But alas, time moves forward, and she is no longer 30. So many once-stunning women have now entered their sixties—it’s as if the moment has slipped away. At times, it frustrates me; it feels as though beauty is fleeting, much like old garments that one must discard. It pains me to think of it that way. If she were still young, I would never 'throw her away.' Shania is an exceptionally talented woman, and I often turn to her music when I’m feeling low—it has an instant uplifting effect. There is no better remedy for a melancholic mood than her soothing voice." Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "I’ll have to remember that. The next time I’m feeling down, I’ll listen to some Shania Twain to lift my spirits. But tell me, do you see me as an old garment as well? Am I destined for the metaphorical trash bin in your eyes?" Angelo (POW): "I have already cast Sade Adu aside in that sense. You’re still in your early fifties, so you have a little time left, but give it another decade, and you, too, will find yourself discarded." Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "I’m unsure whether to laugh or feel saddened by this truth, but aging is an undeniable reality, isn’t it? We must come to terms with the fact that we are no longer 'new clothes' but rather 'old ones.' It’s actually an apt analogy—aging is much like outgrowing or discarding old garments." Angelo (POW): "I think we can all agree—it’s the perfect metaphor for the inevitable competition between youth and age. You still have about another decade of being a desirable woman, but beyond that, I fear the curtain will fall on Eva." Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "I must accept this truth, though it unsettles me. You have a way of speaking candidly, and while I appreciate honesty, it is difficult to hear. The harsh reality is that I am not getting younger—I am aging, and that realization is not easy to embrace. I suppose this is what they call ‘tough love.’" Angelo (POW): "And yet, people vilify me for choosing younger women in their thirties. To me, it is simply a logical choice. I prioritize my own happiness, and the reality is that younger women bring a different kind of energy—they are more enjoyable to be around. Older women, on the other hand, tend to be highly opinionated, and I have no desire to engage in endless debates. I completely understand why Leonardo DiCaprio prefers dating women in their early twenties—it’s not just about beauty; younger women don’t argue as much. They are carefree, they live in the moment, and they simply enjoy life. Older women, however, always have something to debate. No one wants to deal with constant arguments." Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "I can see why men gravitate toward younger women—they offer companionship without the headaches of constant disagreements. I’ve encountered many older women who are extremely opinionated, and I can understand why younger men might choose to avoid that dynamic." Angelo (POW): "Fewer arguments, more passion—that’s the philosophy when it comes to younger women. That is why I exclusively choose them. It’s simple logic. Anyway, farewell, Eva!" Eva Mendes (@evamendes): "Goodbye, Angelo!"

[chaosarchivesandordervault]

Important Figures of Asgard

Starting off with have Randy Sungrace. Sigurd The Judge of Valhalla who watches over the competition to decide who rules Valhalla. He was born from the discarded weapons and armor of those who live in Valhalla. So he's not born from nature itself like the other three. He normally appears in armor but out of armor he's not hard to talk too.

When it comes to his position in Asgard, consider him a Chancellor. It was not his idea but he understands laws so well everyone gave him the position. He was completely and utterly exasperated at everyone doing that but he lives up to his position which resulted in him being seen out of armor more often.

Elle Frostflower if Randy the chancellor she's the Governor. Despite the fact she more often than not gets carried away. She was born from Fimbulwinter itself and transforms into the wolf Fenrir. Specializing in ice and snow which also lets her create clones of herself. Elle is very good at her job but she's also usually itching for a fight to decide who will rule Valhalla once and for all. She has regularly sent clones to the adventurer guild to bug Dia, in return a shadow clone bursts into her office to complain. Helheim and Asgard has gotten used to the clone exchange. Which even leaks into Folkvangr to bother Brynhildr. Both clones only gets a clone to answer them. To say the least its a weird situation.

Luna Nighthunt, the commander of the Asgard guards and born from storms. Whether it be wind, water, lightning or ice, she can use them all as Sigrun. One might wonder her opinion of the battle to decide who rules Asgard. Her opinion? She doesn't actually care, her job keeps her busy enough and she's not one for governance. Because of this she's actually good friends with Dia and thus the Adventurer Guild branch in Valhalla is actually ran by her at Dia's recommendation. Yes, there's a branch in Valhalla. It was a collaboration between the two. Elle and Randy stuck wondering why but neither has room to argue with it because its so helpful.

Luna acts as the voice of reason, reigning in the antics of the other two and is the only one Dia is on good terms with. That said she's also the voice of reason when the bad part of Dia's personality tries dragging her into helping Dia master her abilities as Tyr. Luna can be said to be the only one with her head on straight out of all four and Freyja feels sorry for her due to that fact.

[nottobeadickoranything]

By far my two most bulletproof and annoying opinions that do nothing but piss people off because they are both objectively true are these:

If you are a human being that eats mammals, you are a cannibal. Intra-species cannibalism is still cannibalism. In fact I reject the concepts of carnivore/herbivore/etc, to me there's only cannibals or non-cannibals in this world, so catch me over here with the capybaras fuckin up da veggies, if you eat meat you are a psycho and lets not even get into how 99% of crimes are done by meat eaters...

Other one is I gatekeep academia so hard I reject the very concept of economics as part of academia, because conceptually the entire thing hinges on the completely arbitrary idea that gold = paper and paper = money, which are flimsy at-best concepts, thus economics to me is a sham pseudoscience based off something decided out of thin air, that gold=money, its based off nothing and should be utterly discarded.

[taperwolf]

I'll take a shot. Heavy spoilers (and my somewhat jaundiced opinion):

Yui Ikari was a brilliant scientist in a brand-new field, with a husband who adored her and a bouncing baby boy. Of course, this was just after the evil conspiracy who employed her blew up Antarctica and destroyed the world by poking a dead god wrong. So she built a giant robot powered by a human soul in order to fight God and/or aliens and be the last monument to humanity, and then got herself absorbed by it. In front of her son and husband, utterly traumatizing them both.

I must stress that this is the good guy plan.

Anyway, now that her son can't successfully connect emotionally to anyone, he has to pilot the giant robot and fight all those alien gods. Her soul is still stuck in there, and she only can do anything when her son is completely overwhelmed, in which case she awakens as a literal berserk murder machine. Meanwhile, her husband has discarded all his morals and integrity to play a complex game against the evil conspiracy that employs him and will set off a process to destroy what's left of the world to resurrect her.

Would someone be willing to send me propaganda for Yui Ikari? 🙏

[myers-meadow]

Otis Driftwood relationship headcanons

It's no secret I've been completely obsessed with Otis the past month - so here are some Otis headcanons about how it could be to date him! These are mostly about the first movie, but I'm sure they're applicaple to Otis in the later movies too.

This list follows how a relationship develops, and the spicy stuff is discussed later. Hope you enjoy! Please reblog if you did! <3

No real warnings, just canon-typical stuff, mentions of torture and sex.

Especially in the beginning, Otis likes to intimidate his sweetheart. His gruff and outright mean personality makes it so that he likes to see you squirm.

If you’re a cool, tough person who’s not easily impressed, he’d love breaking through your tough exterior and goes to extremes to get you to react.

If you’re not, he still does, over and over again. He probably sees it as a way of teasing you. He likes seeing how you respond to different things. If blood doesn’t make you queasy, perhaps guts will do it. If it’s not bones, perhaps watching Baby scalp a person will get you nauseous.

You’ll get used to it. After a while. Probably.

It matters a lot to him whether or not the rest of the family likes you. He’s a family man through and through. Despite that, if he thinks the judgement of his family is unfair or untrue, he will not hesitate to discard their opinions and follow his own plan.

Don’t worry about him getting bored, he doesn’t expect much of a partner and is used to filling his time with his own projects.

Date nights mostly consist of his favourite activity: torture and hunting. He takes you out sometimes though, for dinner or drinks in some washed out bar. He can barely keep his hands to himself the whole time.

Otis is not very jealous or possessive (at least, he wouldn’t consider himself as such), he just needs you and everyone else to know exactly who you belong to.

He wants you to take his name if the relationship progresses to something steady. Since his own blood family was so shit, he named himself. Even despite living with the Firefly’s, he’s kept his own name, that’s how much his name means to him. Sharing the same name with you is of great significance to him, it would mean that you two are truly family.

He’s extremely loyal to his family, which includes you.

However, he may want to involve others from time to time – either as audience or as participants. He’d probably let you have your pick from time to time, if you’d wish. The participants or audience may not be willing, though, considering his sexual past before you. To him, monogamy is not the same as loyalty, but if it really hurts you, I think he’d consider your feelings more. He’d be a jerk about it, though.

Blood kink, knife kink, corruption kink – he has it all. All sorts of power play both in and outside of the bedroom are on the table, but don’t count on him to be submissive or on the receiving end of any of this. He’s not willing to give up control – unless you can convince him with something really special.

Otis is the only one who can hurt you. If there is a dangerous victim on the loose, he wouldn’t hesitate in throwing himself into the line of fire to protect you.

If someone manages to touch, let alone hurt, you, they would come to regret it unspeakably much. Otis’d never let them off easy.

He loves the thought of a partner who is utterly devoted to him. Waiting at home until he returns, listening to his every word when he’s philosophising, ready to lavish him with attention and affection, worrying for him when there are tourists around…

He enjoys when you’re vocal in bed – but even more than that, he loves when he’s able to steal your breath and your words away. He needs to see how easily you are affected by him, by what he’s doing.

In short; Otis has his own way of adoring you, but he absolutely does. Once he’s found his sweetheart, he’s not letting go.

Divider by firefly-graphics.

[zoe-oneesama]

We know that Chloe will not have a redemption in your comic. But how would you do it, in your own opinion, how would you properly redeem her?

I talked about this waaaay back in the day for how I'd do it in SL, and I've also talked a little bit about how I'd do it in canon, but there are some finer points.

Start in Season 2, like we thought they were. They even already have episodes which, if tweaked a little, could help out. Use Chloe's appearances in Season 2 to warm her up to the idea that she'll like being good and that being a good person doesn't necessarily mean a total overhaul of her personality (she doesn't need to be Rose, she can still be snarky and vain, just not at the expense of other people who don't deserve it). Have her slowly build up a tolerance and then appreciation for the difference in her life when she acts in other people's interest - in Despair Bear, she likes that people are nice back, by Zombizou she's actually apologizing when she messes up, in Frightningale she's earning the spot in the music video but makes room for the other girls which makes them want to be friends with her. Slowly break down her wall of meanness over the Season.

And then when Style Queen and Queen Wasp comes, make her relapse. If we're going to blame her attitude on her mother, then her mother returning should make her snap back into her old ways. But now she's losing something by being vile - the new friends, admiration of her turn, smiles thrown her way, gone. Everyone grouses that of course, we were so dumb, she'll never learn. All the good will she built up she threw away for the off chance that maybe her Mother will suddenly love her.

Queen Wasp goes a bit different - she doesn't reveal herself right away. In another post, I put forth that Chloe should cause an akuma, become Queen Bee to save the day, and THEN reveal herself in order to get the glory and praise from her mom. But her mom is unimpressed and the heroes are mad she didn't return the bee and the akuma victim outs her as the cause of their akumatization and it all crashes down and she becomes Queen Wasp.

After she's cleansed, having lost her "friends", having lost Ladybug's respect, and having lost her Miraculous, Chloe is devastated. She threw it all away, and for what? Her mother STILL doesn't love her, STILL treats her like something to be tossed away whenever she can.

So when Marinette drags Chloe up to talk to her Mother one more time, Chloe demands an explanation - what part of her was so easy to discard? What made her so unlovable? Audrey's stammers for an answer, prompting Marinette to stand up for Chloe. But when Audrey turns on Marinette, something Miraculous happens - Chloe stands up for Marinette! All the lessons she learned, the person she became, all come crashing back as she stands up to her mother to protect the person she at one point hated and Chloe walks away and is proud of herself for REAL for the first time.

Malediktator comes next. Rather than mocking Chloe's fake video, the kids are still fresh off the hurt from how she acted in Style Queen. Only Marinette knows that Chloe regretted how she acted and she's still a prideful person, so she leaves, not in a huff, but frustrated because she doesn't know what to do next. Maybe her being stand offish akumatizes Andre, maybe she spills too much and he misunderstands her situation as her classmates bullying her, maybe Audrey akumatizes him herself, but whatever the case, he's akumatized.

When his akuma comes to the school, Chloe, as a fleshy normie, tries to protect her class. Tries to reason with her father, tries to fix things. And of course there's no getting through to an akuma, so Chloe, believing everything to be completely and utterly ruined, hides on her balcony to cry, where Ladybug finds her.

The two have a heart to heart where Chloe admits she wants to make up with her class, that she actually cares about them and hates that she threw them away, that she wants to help but she feels so useless and cornered, so Ladybug offers her the first step - to become Queen Bee to "save" her dad. Ladybug tells her Our Actions Speak Louder than Words and that it'll be tough but Chloe has to show her friends that she's going to change.

And there you go, Queen Bee saves her dad, she comes back and throws a party for her classmates (to parallel her fake apology party in Despair Bear), prepared to make a sorrowful apology to everyone. She's surprised when they're at least receptive to the idea of being friends a little and they confess it's because they saw her try to save them as herself from Malediktator.

Chloe ugly cries, Kim makes fun of her makeup running and she calls him a block head, Alix dares him to test mascara vs eyedrops (ala Jenny Marbles Best Mascara to Cry In video), and things look brighter, the happy sappy end (for Chloe anyway).

My favorite "idea" of a redeemed Chloe is basically encapsulated in that moment in the Heroes Day Season Finale where the heroes are all saying their Cool One Liners to Hawkmoth's Challenge and Queen Bee uses her one line to insult his outfit. Still snarky, still rude, still making jabs, but using her "powers" for good!

((Oh, and definitely sprinkle in her treating Sabrina nicer along the way)).

[gums]

i think morality should come primarily from a desire for social equilibrium. like, the resolution of dysfunctional contradictions and inequalities at a pace the masses can keep up with and are based in a dialectical materialist study of the truth that comes from the rigorous democratic participation of the masses ourselves. i think if you approach the subject even from a very blunt, analytical framework that’s not particularly moralistic justice will emerge, because injustice, cruelty, and exploitation are a source of disequilibrium that has to be artificially maintained for the benefit of the few while keeping a healthy, stable society from producing and distributing resources appropriately and maintaining longterm political stability. the destructive political consequences of exploitation are why the US is no more than 25-50 years from societal collapse, if even that, and Western Europe even sooner than that

it’s a mistake to view the goal of socialism as the pursuit of a more moral society first and foremost, I think. objectively that’s what happens, the optimal society is one in which workers (and their disabled/elderly dependents and children) are able to directly benefit from the fruits of their labor and be supported by the collective they labor for, but if you view abstract progressive morality as the leading force behind socialism vs it being a rational system for the optimization of human society and the only way for us to go forward as a species, you end up with some very confused hardline ideological stances that take precedence over having an actual winning strategy. blind idealism is the ultimate sin and where revolutionary energy goes to die, in my opinion. i think that’s why anarchists, democratic socialists, and western red liberal ‘communists’ are completely and utterly useless despite having lots of very flowery ideals and a knee jerk enthusiasm for discarding any and all successful revolutionary projects for making the difficult, high stakes decisions the armchair revolutionary can’t even begin to understand the depth of. socialism (and ultimately, communism) is a materially moral system of governance, but ideological morals don’t mean shit if you can’t be flexible when figuring out how to address the day to day requirements of administering resources, re-structuring the culture, and achieving the revolution and then defending it from counter-revolutionary violence

[ofdragonsdeep]

The Weight of Eternity (2)

How to undo the chains of a master?

How to grant succour to those who cannot see the offered hand?

(Part 2: Malice Aforethought)

The work was not immediate.

Co-ordinating the vast numbers of people involved in the effort to reverse such a unique condition was a task, even for someone with Mitron’s qualifications. As he reviewed letters and teleported halfway around the world, Ar’telan could only catch him for long enough to hear him lament that it was easier to herd Akademia’s researchers than it was to try and corral his current study partners, and that had been like herding catfish. Ar’telan assumed the change to the idiom was purposeful, to inject a moment of levity into something that was otherwise quite dour.

Ar’telan and Elidibus watched over the crystal, Elidibus collecting the results of Mitron’s work together whenever the younger man breezed past them. Ar’telan read through all of them, in the hopes that he would understand the depth of what they were attempting, but much of it was beyond him.

Alisaie had given them a detailed description of her detempering process, although it had quite clearly been transcribed by Alphinaud, and featured a number of annotations and footnotes to expand upon the main bulk of Alisaie’s work. He had also added delicately-drawn diagrams for each step of the process, and the notes had been delivered with their very own porxie, which was currently fluttering above the bar of the Rising Stones without a single care or thought in its head.

From Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus, as well as a very irritable note on how this was a waste of their time and unlikely to bear fruit, which of course meant he would need to supervise it in person to ensure it was not a complete disaster from the former, there were notes on the soul. Hythlodaeus, in elegant handwriting, had included all he knew of Lahabrea’s soul. Ar’telan was surprised to learn that he had known the man quite well, as Chief of the Bureau of the Architect, and had personally approved many of his concepts. He supposed it made sense, when he thought of it, but he had never had cause to do so.

Emet-Selch, for his part, had given them a treatise on the soul in general terms. There were notes from Krile interspersed throughout, too, as well as contributions from Forum members whose signatures Ar’telan found entirely indecipherable. On the spell which had bound the Forum to secrecy. On the phenomenon of burning a soul’s aether permanently. On Fandaniel, and the unfortunate cracks that Kairos had scored into his aether like claws.

What made a soul complete? None of them had an answer. To Zodiark’s Convocation, the answer had been to hold all of its pieces, but learning that Lahabrea had not and was still considered Unsundered had thrown that quite decisively off. It was Krile’s opinion that it would take Hephaistos a great deal of time to recover in the aftermath of Athena’s removal, not only because it would be highly traumatic, but because he would not even know who he was for quite some time.

That, at least, made sense to Ar’telan. In Pandæmonium, Hephaistos had defined himself by those around him. He was Lahabrea to the Warders, to better twist their minds to his will. He was husband to Athena, devoted to her so utterly he would destroy himself to see her goals fulfilled. He was father to Erichthonios - but only so that he could deliver him to Athena. And to Lahabrea himself, Hephaistos had been the bitter, empty parts of him. Love twisted to self-loathing, naming himself mirror and fragment of all he despised. Carrier of the torch that Lahabrea had discarded along with his emotions. To unwind Athena from that, he was a man without purpose, nothing but the cast-off remnants of Lahabrea’s biggest failure - at least in Lahabrea’s eyes. He would know it. He already did.

But this, if nothing else, was something that Ar’telan understood. He knew well how it felt to feel as though you had failed at your only purpose, to build yourself up as something for others and never for yourself. He knew how it hurt when you had to live for yourself when you thought yourself worthless. And though he cringed at the thought of hearing Lahabrea’s voice again, he owed him this.

Without Athena, Lahabrea would never have hurt him the way he had.

Y’shtola, and to a lesser extent Nidhana, had submitted no less than four books from a variety of places, and notes on aetheric manipulation. There was also a slightly damp set of pages, with froggy ink-stains in random spots, of very awkwardly transcribed notes from Matoya on the same. Where Nidhana’s notes truly shone, though, were on the matter of stability. Keeping Hephaistos from unravelling along with Athena would be difficult, by her estimation, but not entirely impossible. So she had sent them a strange-looking device which would help to keep him together, and wished them the best of luck, even if she did not entirely understand - or perhaps want to understand - exactly what it was that they were doing.

G’raha had sent them the most fascinating page that Ar’telan had ever read, on the soul vessels he had designed and how it had felt to both be contained within one, and also recombining with his younger self on the Source. In plain terms, he had laid out the conflict of memory that having two versions of himself in one body had caused, and the turmoil of sorting through who he was, in the first few weeks after he had been awoken. Like Hephaistos, he had accepted the invasion of his soul willingly, but unlike Hephaistos it had not backfired so spectacularly on him. 

Ar’telan talked to Mitron, after reading G’raha’s testimony, on Ardbert. Fray, too, he mentioned, and Myste, leaving Mitron wondering if there was any room left in his soul after all that he had been through. For Ar’telan, it had always been simple to separate Ardbert from himself, while also accepting him. Ardbert had been so like him, but so different at the same time. The same way that Themis and Lahabrea spoke of Azem, Ar’telan thought, though he was still yet to meet the soul that would become him. He had called on Ardbert, once or twice, and let that part of him come to the fore. Take control, just for a moment. Too long and the anxiety crept in, but all of those who were a part of him understood that. How could they not, when they were as much him as he himself was?

Mitron called him complicated. Elidibus called it an understatement.

—

Thancred arrived three weeks after the effort had begun in earnest. Ar’telan was not entirely sure where Thancred was at any given moment, cavorting around the realm with Urianger as he was, but the lack of any discernible tan suggested that he had been up in the north.

“It’s good to see you,” Ar’telan said, watching nervously as Thancred sat himself down at their table. He seemed exhausted, but that was not unusual in and of itself.

“And you. I hear you’re up to some nonsense,” he remarked, an easy smile on his face that did not quite reach his eyes. He was not angry, though. It would have been very clear to Ar’telan if he had been.

“That’s one word for it,” Ar’telan agreed.

“Not nonsense! Important science!” Mitron disagreed from across the room, making Elidibus grimace.

“My colleague is not wrong, even if he is a little… overenthusiastic,” he agreed. Thancred chuckled at that.

“It’s good to have hobbies, or so I’m told,” he said. “Where is it?” Without a word, Elidibus produced the crystal. It was set within a delicate metal cage which Elidibus had infused with warding magic, just in case, but the air about it was still dark.

“Well. The only part of Lahabrea I’ve never met, and it’s just as grumpy as the rest of him,” Thancred said. “I suppose I can’t be all that surprised.” He glanced at Ar’telan. “Are you sure about this?” Ar’telan nodded.

“Yes. He deserves a chance to live free of her.” Thancred regarded the crystal.

“Even after what he did?”

“It wasn’t this part of him that did it.”

Thancred was silent for a while at that, before sighing and leaning back in his chair.

“Well, I suppose we don’t really know that, do we?” he remarked. “Not that I entirely understand all of this time travel malarky, but isn’t there a chance that they… reunited?”

“Unlikely,” Elidibus replied. “His intent was to destroy the crystal, and I see no reason why he would not have done so, even in the face of the Final Days. Especially so, perhaps.”

“Professor Claudien took the memory crystal they found in the aetherial sea to Azys Lla,” Ar’telan said. “According to Nemjiji, he spoke of reunion.”

“Well, that’s not terrifying at all, is it?” Thancred said.

“I was more concerned about finding Pandæmonium in the Aitiascope, to be honest,” Ar’telan confessed. “If Claudien is… a shard of Erichthonios, he is safe until the very end of Athena’s plans. I hope.”

“So we’re stopping to do… this, instead of mounting a rescue mission to Azys Lla?” Thancred said. Ar’telan wilted.

“I went to Azys Lla as soon as I heard, but there was no sign of him. Not of anyone,” he said. “I am worried about him, but… If Athena’s goals remain the same as they did twelve thousand years ago, then this might help us save him.”

“Not that Ar’telan mentioned this at the time,” Elidibus said. “Nor thought about it at all, I imagine, until you brought it up.” Ar’telan grimaced, but couldn’t argue with that.

“Well, I’ve no immediate objections to it,” Thancred said. “Not that I could stop you if I wanted to.”

“I would take him back to Lahabrea if you could not weather it,” Ar’telan disagreed. Thancred put his hands behind his head, his eyes only going from the crystal to make sure he was not missing Ar’telan speak.

“That as good as makes me his executioner,” he said. “I’ll admit there was a time when I fancied it. Driving a knife into his throat as if it made a difference.” He glanced up to Elidibus. “Sorry.”

“I will not deny the pain that he inflicted upon you, nor the feelings it engendered, despite how much I miss his presence,” Elidibus said, placid as always. “We all of us carry the weight of our crimes, even now.” 

“Can’t say I’ve got the time to be that angry about a dead man these days,” Thancred said. “So this one… Hephaistos, is it?”

“That is the name he used in Pandæmonium, but I do not know if he will take it when Athena is gone,” Ar’telan replied. “Certainly he did not wish to be Lahabrea. I cannot imagine that will change.”

“Well then, that’s something we have in common, isn’t it?” Thancred said, mouth twisted up in an amused smile. “I told Urianger I might be a while with this. I’d like the long version, if you don’t mind, but I’ll stay until it’s done, one way or another.”

“We will rebind him and return the crystal to the past, if it does not succeed,” Ar’telan said. “Lahabrea considers it his duty to be rid of him.”

“Well, Lahabrea thinks a lot of things, doesn’t he?” Thancred returned.

—

After much deliberation, Mitron considered himself as ready as he would ever be.

“Alright, so. Here’s how it’s going down,” he said, slapping a sheaf of paper onto the table in front of Elidibus and Ar’telan. “I need Hythlodaeus. Or Emet-Selch, either will do.”

“He goes by Hades now,” Elidibus reminded him, and he shrugged.

“Well, either. I’ll get both. Anyway, they’ll be able to pick out the bits we’re pulling out of this sorry excuse for a soul,” he continued. “I’ll need a vessel for that, by the way. Something secure enough to hold… her.”

“White auracite?” Ar’telan said, and Mitron nodded.

“It’s our best option, I think. I asked G’raha if he’d make one. It’s a simplistic version of the vessels you brought them back over in,” he clarified. “So he’ll be delivering that. I’ll be working on siphoning the pieces out into that, but.” He folded his arms. “This is the issue: he needs to be free.”

“Can we bind him within a circle, perhaps?” Elidibus suggested. Mitron grimaced.

“Maybe, but - like it or not, he is Lahabrea,” he replied. “I’ve never seen a sigil that could hold him for long. And while she’s still within him, she’s going to fight.”

“I can hold his attention,” Ar’telan said. 

“See, I don’t particularly want to do soul surgery on someone who’s trying to strangle the Warrior of Light,” Mitron said, running a hand back through his hair. “I’ll admit I don’t exactly have something better, though.”

“I shall weave warding magic around Ar’telan, then,” Elidibus said. “Certainly it will buy us some time for him to need to escape any bindings I can enact, but we do not gain much through reapplication, I fear.”

“I’ll help,” Thancred said, walking up to them. “Hephaistos, right?”

“That’s the thought,” Mitron agreed. “I doubt he’ll care overmuch about you, though.”

“I will be fine,” Ar’telan replied. “But we should do it indoors. The… his… forms. They were quite large, and I do not know if he will want to risk using them in confined quarters.”

“Is he going to come out Ancient height?” Thancred asked.

“Lahabrea was tall even by our standards, if I recall,” Elidibus mused. “But no, I do not imagine he will. He is but a wisp of essence chained within crystal, especially in the wake of his most recent defeat, and he will not wish to waste effort on such things. Certainly I did not return… tall, and Hades is no larger than your average Garlean.”

“I’m chalking that up to dynamis nonsense, for the record,” Mitron added. “Anyway, I already sent word to Hythlodaeus. All we need to do is set up the containment measures and get the aetheric stabiliser and the… gods, what is it called?”

“A Porxie,” Ar’telan supplied.

“Right. The aetheric stabiliser and the porxie ready to go,” Mitron finished. “Does it have to be a flying pig? I had some really good shark concepts-”

“It was imbued with the correct aetheric properties in a Familiar-forging oven, so unless you particularly wish to beg Master Matoya for use of it, the porxie is what we have,” Elidibus said, which made Mitron slump as if in defeat.

“Ok, ok. Sure. Flying pig it is,” he allowed. “I know what I’m doing, at any rate. I think. I hope.”

“Your confidence is as boundless as ever,” Elidibus said.

—

No less than half a bell before Hythlodaeus and Hades arrived at the Rising Stones, Mitron declared his preparations finished. In the back area where Ar’telan had once watched Hoary and Coultenet training, they had pushed barrels and boxes out of the way for Elidibus to inscribe a binding matrix so large it put the ones in Ar’telan’s tomes to shame. In the middle of the circle, the crystal sat, still deceptively benign.

Elidibus had taken it upon himself to be in charge of the porxie. He did not remember Hephaistos, but of all of those present he knew Lahabrea the best, and Hephaistos was close to that. Ar’telan would help too, of course, but even in his weakened state Elidibus was by far the richer of the two of them, where aether was concerned.

Mitron was holding the auracite. It was similar to the vessels that the Exarch had made on the First, but this one had far more protective measures carved into its surface. It was rare that they had need to trap a soul in auracite for more than a moment. Even when they had been set upon destroying the Ascians, having no other options available to them, the process had not been drawn out.

Ar’telan had briefed Thancred on Hephaistos’s abilities, as he understood them. Both of them were more than familiar with the fire, and Ar’telan had encountered the illusions when he had faced Lahabrea in the Praetorium, but the rest was unique to Hephaistos. Thancred listened with a slowly growing grimace on his face as Ar’telan went through the list of things he could remember, from the snakes that froze the flesh to the stunning impact of the dog-like creature.

“You would think he wouldn’t need any of this nonsense, with the burning torches and the illusions and all,” Thancred said, sighing softly. Ar’telan shrugged.

“He didn’t do it to himself for him. It was for Athena,” he replied. “Proof of concept, to help her reach divinity.”

“I can’t say it sounds all that divine,” Thancred said. Ar’telan glanced back at the crystal, still sitting in an ocean of calm upon the floor.

“It wasn’t,” he said. “I am glad I did not get to learn what the conclusion of the experiment would have been.”

When Hythlodaeus and Hades arrived, Mitron gave them the run-down. Hades and Mitron would pick the pieces out of Hephaistos’s soul, and Hythlodaeus would guide them through the process. Hades did not seem particularly impressed with the idea that Ar’telan and Thancred would be the only thing standing between the process succeeding and having a half-mad man rampaging around Mor Dhona, but it was hard to argue that it hadn’t worked before.

“If we are all ready, I shall undo the wards,” Elidibus said, the graveness of his proclamation only undermined a little by the fluttering creature at his side. He waited for the nods, then held up his hands.

The sound was one that Ar’telan was used to. The snapping of chains, the clanking of metal. With a flash of aether, the magics on the crystal were undone. There was no change, at first, no outward difference in its appearance, and then-

The crystal all but burst, and with a clamorous light, Hephaistos stood before them. He still wore that twisted form that he had carried in the Stygian Insenescence Cells, concept on concept buried in his flesh and held back only by magic and chain. For a moment, he seemed to stagger, disorientated.

“I see her,” Hythlodaeus said, and Hephaistos locked eyes with Ar’telan.

“You,” he snarled. Magic snapped and flashed around him, his eyes narrowing into a scowl. “Was taking everything from me not enough for you? Now you must humiliate me, too?”

“We’re trying to help you,” Ar’telan said, seeing Mitron flinch as the Auracite in his hands began to glow with power. Hephaistos growled, and Elidibus frowned as the sigil on the floor began to hiss.

“I do not need your pity,” Hephaistos snarled. One clawed foot scratched through the sigils as though they were not even there, and Ar’telan drew his shield from his back. “I do not need your help.” The air around him rippled and warped as the chains around his legs broke link by link, Mitron staggered backwards as the creation made itself manifest around them. He all but hit the ceiling with it, but he stamped a heavy foot forwards, heedless of the damage to either the walls or himself. “I will not fail again. I will snuff out that pathetic spark you call a life, and I will take what is mine!”

Ar’telan raised the shield, aether and knightly drills infusing it as Hephaistos crashed into him. Clawed hands scraped down the metal, Ar’telan jumping back from a second swing.

“Keep him still!” Mitron exclaimed.

“If you have any suggestions as to how, I will gladly take them,” Elidibus said, his voice strained. Ar’telan glanced from Hephaistos to the rapidly approaching wall behind him, and thought.

It was not hard to avoid Hephaistos. He had preferred to stand still and cast from afar when they had clashed before, and even this form moved with big, obvious movements. He had jumped and run to an almost dizzying degree, but he could be followed. Ar’telan did not think that leading him on a merry chase around the Rising Stones would be all that difficult, if it came to it.

But.

“Ar’telan,” Thancred said, seeing what he was about to do before the others, focussed on their work, realised. 

With a clatter, the shield hit the floor.

“If you are so angry, come and get me,” he said, and with a howl of rage Hephaistos pounced.

“Not like that!” Mitron managed, panic on his face. Hades was torn between continuing his assigned work and pitching in to help as Hephaistos grabbed Ar’telan in taloned hands, lifting him bodily from the floor and slamming him against the wall.

“You! Your poisoned words, your tenacious, flickering light,” Hephaistos growled. Thancred, acting on instinct, leapt up onto the beast’s back, and with a snarl Hephaistos slammed his tail into the nearest pillar.

“Hephaistos! Please, listen to us!” Elidibus began. The porxie, glowing with stored aether, snorted in distress. “We do not mean you any harm! The voice within your mind works against you!”

“No! She is all I have, all I had!” Hephaistos all but screamed. “I was not enough for him. Not enough for them. But I love her! I will burn this place to ash if it suits her will!”

“Getting there,” Mitron muttered, his teeth gritted in concentration.

“Is it worth it, Hephaistos?” Elidibus countered. “Think. All those you once cared for, now they stand against you, and for what? Your love is undeniable, but what will she care for you when all is done?”

“No!” Hephaistos returned. Ar’telan gasped as his hands squeezed tighter, and Thancred raised his gunblade to weave a protective barrier around him. “Get off me, wretch,” Hephaistos snarled, twisting to try and get to Thancred without dropping his primary target.

“I think not,” Thancred disagreed, jumping across the writhing back of the dog-like creature and throwing himself at Hephaistos’s torso, locking his arms around the man’s neck. Ar’telan saw the fire began to crawl along Hephaistos’s arms, but Elidibus countered it with an all but thoughtless motion.

“Enough, Hephaistos,” he said. Mitron yelped as the auracite flashed once more, and Hephaistos flinched as though he had been physically struck. “She does not care for you. She will take everything from you, and you will give it to her gladly. For what?”

“To be with her,” Hephaistos said, but there was a crack to his voice. “I did- I did it for love. For her. For Erichthonios. And despite all that he did, even… even Erichthonios…” 

“What you love is a lie. An illusion, built to cage you, chain you to her will,” Elidibus said. “She does not care for you. She does not care for Erichthonios. Everything around her she destroys, and for what? Not for anyone but herself.”

“It was… It was right. It was what was needed,” Hephaistos said. Ar’telan felt the grip around his chest lessen, just a little.

“This has no right to be working,” Hades muttered.

“And even if the cost is your very essence, your very self, you would pay it,” Elidibus said. “But would she?”

Another flash of light from the auracite, and Hephaistos reared back. Ar’telan wriggled in his unsteady grip, and pushed his way free, evading grasping fingers as he went. Hephaistos choked as Thancred pulled him back, his empty hands reaching back behind his head.

“Not today,” Thancred said, dropping to the side opposite Ar’telan with claws mere ilms from his face. Hephaistos rallied, his face a mask of pain.

“It is for her that I offer it,” he said. “For her. For her.” his fingers twitched, but the clawed nails that adorned them meant he could not clench his fists. “If I can but… Deliver to her…” Again he rounded on Ar’telan, but he was cautious now, keeping distance from Thancred as the two of them circled in place like stalking beasts. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. Give me back my son.”

“You are not the only one who misses him, Hephaistos,” Ar’telan returned.

“That she broke you is not a mark of shame,” Elidibus said. “That she used you is her sin. But with your eyes open and unclouded, with the past behind you and the future ahead, would you still choose to walk her path?”

Every muscle on Hephaistos quivered. The paws which touched the floor tensed, the claws scraping lines into the floor that would be very difficult to explain to Tataru when she came back. He closed his eyes.

“I…” He tried. “I… Wanted…”

“Come back to us, Hephaistos,” Elidibus said, his voice barely audible over the crackle of magic from the three behind him. There was force in the air, cracking like a whip in the silence, and Mitron was bodily thrown from his feet as the aether in the auracite coalesced, landing in a crumpled heap against the bar.

“It is done! She is gone,” Hythlodaeus managed, finally turning his eyes from the aetherial with face aghast.

“For her… For her, I…” Hephaistos said. “I… Agdistis…” His voice broke, and he slumped, a broken tangle of limbs and blades. Cautiously, every sense primed for a betrayal, Ar’telan walked towards him.

“She wanted you to heal,” Ar’telan said, and Hephaistos looked up as the Echo spoke where Ar’telan’s voice could not. “That was all she ever wanted for you.”

“No. Not… for me,” Hephaistos said. Tears glimmered at the corners of his eyes, something Ar’telan had never imagined to see on a face that Lahabrea could claim. “For him.”

“I don’t think she would worry over the difference,” Ar’telan said. There was a moment of silence, Hephaistos trembling like a terrified child. The creation’s limbs did not respond when he moved, and he seemed so fragile he might snap for a misplaced word.

“After all that I have done… All I have sacrificed… For the empty promise of a liar…” He closed his eyes. “The agony I have lived. That I have mirrored in all those I thought to claim. For her.” He shook his head. “I am a monster in truth. Nothing but a desperate man, broken in the hope of one more moment with the one who ruined me.”

“When we live free, there is ever the chance to change,” Elidibus said, his voice gentle. “Though you do not see it, all those who surround you now are proof of that, Hephaistos. You have suffered, but you are safe here. I swear it.” Hephaistos raised his head, his breathing labelled.

“You…” he said, brow furrowed. “I… I know you. Your aether… You fought me, in Pandæmonium. But you are not… the same.”

“Much has changed since you were caged anew,” Elidibus said. Behind them, Hythlodaeus helped a dazed Mitron to his feet, the former Ascian still clutching the pulsing auracite as though it might explode. “Rest now. All will come in time.”

“You…” Hephaistos said, then looked back to Ar’telan. “...Were there not… better men to save?” Ar’telan thought of Erichthonios, with his surly face and his compassionate heart, of his devotion and love. Thought of the Final Days breaking the fragile, nascent bridge between him and his father, and damning Lahabrea to an aeon of Tempered loneliness, and tried to find a smile.

“It is not one or another,” he said. “It is whoever we can reach. Friend or foe.”

“It’s a habit of his,” Thancred agreed. Hephaistos managed a bitter laugh.

“Fool,” he muttered. “Stubborn, hopeless fool. How you remind me of her. Azem.” Ar’telan made a startled noise at that, but Hephaistos didn’t hear it.

“Elidibus,” Hades said, and Elidibus reached out and caught Hephaistos with the aether as he fell, all the energy gone from him. Slowly, Elidibus lowered him down to rest upon the stone floor.

“He breathes, though I do not know if that will last,” he said, walking over. “His control over the creations he has bound himself to is weak in the aftermath of what we have done.”

“Should… be able to re-inter it,” Mitron managed, one hand on the back of his head with a grimace. “Same spell. Should work.”

“Then we shall try it. Ar’telan?” Elidibus prompted, and Ar’telan nodded. He was still winded from being slammed against the wall, but after watching Erichthonios practice so often, he knew the movements by heart.

Magic lashed around the concept’s form, and with a shudder and a keening shriek of magic, Hephaistos was restored to what passed for his original form. He still wore the wounds of his efforts - barely-concealed concepts bubbling beneath his skin, the clawed feet and raw skin peppered with alien flesh proof enough of it - but he was not caught in that half-transformed state that he had wielded with ease the first time they had fought.

“We will need to remove them, if we can,” Elidibus said. “I do not know if his strength will return quickly enough to regain control, and I do not like the thought of what he might become if the wards fail.”

“I wouldn’t work too quickly,” Hythlodaeus cautioned. “His soul is… ragged.” It was difficult to see the frown on Hythlodaeus’s usually jovial face. Whatever he had seen had unsettled him deeply, an impressive feat for a man who had lived through the Final Days, in a sense.  “I fear if you unravel every creature from him he will come apart entirely.” Hades grunted at that, crossing the room and picking up Nidhana’s stabiliser from the floor. 

“I doubt this will last much longer,” he declared. “I will try and fix it. It seems logical enough in its construction.” He scowled at it. “Not that I particularly wanted to stay in this dingy little building for much longer, but needs must.”

“Oh, please, you were as interested as I was,” Hythlodaeus disagreed.

“Well, I have… a concussion, and a chunk of rock with a manipulative scientist’s soul dregs in it, so I’m going to have a lie down and think about my life choices. Second life choices,” Mitron decided. “This is yours now. Ok. Good talk.” He thrust the auracite into Elidibus’s hands, and meandered towards the door that led to the bedrooms. Elidibus accepted it with grace, though he grimaced when he turned his attention to it.

“The presence within longs for freedom,” he remarked. “A pull towards… reunion. Reclamation.” He sighed. “We will need to be very careful when we dispose of this.” 

“Overcharging it with aether should do well enough,” Hades disagreed. “It worked for our unfortunate colleague.” Elidibus sighed.

“Nabriales… Yes. His actions were regrettable, as were many of our own, but it is proof of concept,” he said. “I worry, however, should so tenacious a soul be released close to Hephaistos, unravelled as he is.”

“Well, if it won’t explode, I can take it with me when I leave,” Thancred offered. “Urianger and I were up in Garlemald, liaising with the communities there. Can’t get much further away than that.” Elidibus made a thoughtful noise.

“Perhaps,” he allowed. “For now, I shall seal it in a warded box. There is no guarantee that the madness will not take Hephaistos again, so soon after his release. He must not know where it is.” Ar’telan looked down to Hephaistos, feeling his shoulders tense every time the rise of the man’s chest rattled the chains that bound the concepts there.

“But he will be ok?” he asked. Elidibus sighed.

“That, I cannot promise,” he said. “It is a cruel dawn to wake to, when you have caused so much misery and death. The promise of Athena’s rewards would have been all that drove him to do what he did. Lahabrea…” He shook his head sadly. “Lahabrea was a kind man, beneath the walls he built. He valued all of his colleagues dearly, and they repaid his trust in turn. Even when Lord Zodiark had us in thrall, and that care became fanatical devotion, still…” He made an unhappy noise. “The gravity of what Hephaistos did will be difficult to bear. His Keywards driven to madness, corrupted against their will, fatally so in one case. The Warders so bewitched that they fear Lahabrea’s mask upon their waking. Erichthonios…” Ar’telan looked away. “It was for Erichthonios that Lahabrea killed her, was it not?”

“Yes,” Ar’telan said, a single nod of his head accompanying the sign. “And it was for  his sake that he told us what she did. His sake, and Agdistis…” Elidibus made another worried noise, one hand raised to his face as he frowned in thought.

“It is a cruel lash to wake him to. Erichthonios’s fate, presumed as it is, was as unkind as that everyone else suffered at the end,” Elidibus said. “Certainly if your theory about Professor Claudien is true.” Ar’telan grimaced at that.

“Well, you don’t need to open with ‘your son and everyone you knew is dead’, you know,” Thancred suggested. “Gods know I wasn’t all that fond of the revelation of my crimes after Lahabrea.” 

“They were hardly your crimes, but your point is noted,” Elidibus allowed. “I shall entrust his mental well-being to the two of you, for the time being, and see if there is anything in Lahabrea’s memory crystal that will make removing the concepts from Hephaistos’s being any easier.”

“Since Hades is staying a while longer, I can keep an eye on his aether,” Hythlodaeus offered, the cheerful smile back on his face. Ar’telan nodded.

“Thank you,” he said. Thancred looked down at Hephaistos and frowned.

“Well, step one is getting him off the floor and into something a bit more comfortable,” he decided. “I don’t suppose any of you strapping old lads can lend a hand?”