#parents are allowed to process the deaths of their children and move on

[goingbuggy]

I think you have best theories in the fandom about shanks. It’s like you see more than most of us. So that’s why to just have simple yes or no answer would be enough. I have this level of trust in you.

Do you believe makinos child is shanks or someone’s else?

I just can’t stop thinking about this, because for me I don’t see it, but it’s so popular I feel stupid or blinded by my other ships.

thank you for your kind words!! you probably shouldn't place this must trust in me though, LOL. i'm just reading and overthinking everything in the source material, like everyone else is.

is it possible that shanks has a child with makino? well.. yeah. to put it bluntly, the simplest answer is usually the right answer with oda. he's already established that makino and shanks are friendly from chapter one, and shanks is even seen dressed up for a wedding on one cover page, which oda sometimes uses to tell canon events that don't fit the flow of the current arc. (think of enel's journey to the moon, for example).

me personally, though? i've got beef with this idea, and not for the reasons you might think. makino and shanks as a couple is fine to me; i don't find their relationship all that compelling, truthfully, but they fit the mold for most of oda's canon pairings.

when it comes to shanks' characterization, though, the idea of him having a child at this point in the story strikes me as both offputting and irrelevant. shanks is an emperor, and given his actions, his current responsibilities are clearly the priority. so the thought of shanks leaving makino alone to take care of their child is... strange? his status has the potential to endanger them. he is surely too preoccupied to be sailing back and forth to see them.

you could argue that this parallels roger and rouge, but i also think that's the worst possible way oda could have shanks mirror his old captain. at least in roger's case, oda had ace become a relevant part of luffy's story. what narrative purpose does this serve? is it to humanize shanks? i'm not quite sure what oda's angle is, here.

we also have to consider shanks' past. shanks left uta behind, so i don't think he is "above" leaving his newborn child, so to speak, but his reasoning in that situation was far more complex. here, though? this would be shanks ACTIVELY choosing to bring a child into this world, knowing full well he cannot take care of it until he sees his goals through. (SHANKS? patient, protective shanks, unable to wait to start a family? the boy who was an abandoned child himself? does he not believe that he will live long enough to wait? if so, why would he leave makino with that responsibility at all? characters can make selfish decisions, but i can't see any reasoning from shanks' perspective. this is a problem to me.)

so, in short, no, i'm not exactly a fan of this theory. i just don't see the merit of adding it to the story, when the implications seem to contradict what we know about his character. and again, what is the narrative benefit that outweighs the faulty logic? what do we gain as readers? what does this do for the story? to me, it feels like nothing at all.

[taeraemisu]

falling in love with life ; hanbin zb1

synopsis ; grim reaper hanbin always appears at one’s last moment. that’s just who he is. he never wondered on how it’s like to be alive. but after certain few deaths in a row, he notices how the reader is always nearby, as if they are a sign of death too. curious, he starts to observe you. but what happens when he starts to wonder on how it feels to be alive?

genre ; angst, grim reaper!hanbin, death x life, deaths, not sure if it should count but i read the book thief a couple of years ago and i am not so sure if you can consider this to be inspired by that

pairings ; hanbin x reader

word count ; 1.8k words

“time of death, 10:43am. cause of death, heart failure.”

hanbin was a grim reaper, always appearing at one’s last moment. some might say you are lucky if you see him though, that gorgeous face being one of the last things you will see before you move on.

hanbin was at a children’s hospital, reading out little notes about the passed one. hanbin, who typically doesn’t feel emotions, has one weak spot which was towards kids who died too young or those who died unfairly. so he made one exception for them. he would allow them to appear in their loved ones’ dream for one final goodbye before he accompanies them to the after life.

in front of him now, in the ward, was a translucent soul of the child that just passed. upon her passing, her parents were in the room, sitting down, crying and stunned. the child looks at them, calling out mom and dad but they could not hear her.

it was a regular occurrence for hanbin, this was something he saw almost every single day. but his heart aches for the little girl.

hanbin bends down to reach the child’s eye level. she was just seven.

“kiddo,” he start to say. “do you want to talk to your mom and dad one last time?”

the child looks at him, all confused. “i’m not … seeing them anymore?”

hanbin shook his head, giving a soft smile. “i’m letting you see them one more time. you should have a chance at goodbyes. you want that, don’t you?”

the child nods, a little confused but she so desperately wanted to talk to her parents again. hanbin smiles at her, giving a soft pat on her shoulder. he leaves the room momentarily, letting the child look at her parents in privacy.

about to leave the room, the door opens, stumbling into the room and coming into face to face with him. of course, you could not see him. processing the scene in front of you, you apologised for the interruption. you had a bag with you and looked through it, before taking out a bag of oranges and a packet of dumplings, handing it to the grieving parents.

hanbin stared at you, looking at what you were doing. as far as he knew, you were a stranger. you had no ties to the family. hanbin knew he should have paid no attention to you. you were just a regular passer-by who stumbled into the wrong room. but yet for some reason, he was a little intrigued by you.

but he couldn’t figure out why.

“time of death, 12:58pm. cause of death, car accident.”

hanbin was now in the middle of the road, standing beside a car accident. the translucent soul of a middle-aged man was standing right in front of him. hanbin clicked his tongue in annoyance. “were you drinking?”

the middle-aged man shook his head. “what, no!” he denies, looking around the scene. he sees his lifeless body in the driver’s seat. he turns to look at hanbin, his already translucent soul getting even paler. “wait … are you-“

hanbin cuts him off, rolling his eyes. “don’t lie to me,” he said, his anger levels rising. there’s one thing that hanbin hated the most and that was careless people. those who risked the lives of others. “you were drinking in the middle of the day and even though you were clearly drunk, you still drove?”

the middle-aged man start to protest, disagreeing. even after death, he still had pride on the line.

hanbin puts his hand out, cutting his words off. “i’m not hearing it,” hanbin says. “you should be thankful you are the only one dead and not anyone else-“

hanbin stops talking as he looks over to the bystanders gathering on the side of the road. he spots you, again. this was the second time he had seen you in a day. the second death you witnessed.

“what now?” the man asked, desperate. “can i at least see my wife again-“

“no.”

hanbin looks at you one more time, wondering what would you do. he sees you calling for an ambulance and running towards the car, trying to drag the lifeless body of the soul that was in front of him out of the car. hanbin was confused about you. why would you do that? no one else was doing anything, why were you so different?

“time of death, 4:14pm. cause of death, fire.”

hanbin turns to another person.

“time of death, 4:16pm. cause of death, fire.”

this time, it was a whole group of souls he had to accompany. a fire broke out at an office building and even though there were more casualties than deaths, it was still much more than one. the fire was still ongoing, so the number of souls he had to accompany was only going to get bigger and bigger.

while gathering all the confused souls, he spots you in the crowd, again. what is this? he thought. why are you everywhere? everywhere you went, you left a trail of death behind.

hanbin, confused, looks at you once more. intrigued on what you would do. then, as if you had no bright idea ever in your life, you made a run into the burning building. hanbin was shocked. what the-?

without even thinking much, he ran after you. he followed you into the building. he was a grim reaper, he couldn’t be killed twice. the fires had no effect on him. he lost sight of you but he searched the entire building, looking for you. was this how you both will officially meet? with your stupid idea of running into a burning building?

then, he hears a cough from the distance. he headed towards the sound, wondering whether it was you or another possible casualty. he sees you in a distance, carrying someone on your back. hanbin, looks at you confused. you were willing to risk your life to save another? he felt a sudden surge of anger. how could you be so careless? why did you care about another person’s life more than your own? especially since it was a stranger.

he watched you struggle but before the fire went even bigger, you and the person you saved made it out. alive.

despite all the confused souls of the dead wandering around, hanbin could not take his eyes off you. who are you?

hanbin put his duties aside. he has worked for over hundreds of years. he should have some time off. he have only existed for the pure purpose of accompanying people to the afterlife. but now, he was quietly following you from behind.

he wasn’t a stalker or anything, he was just intrigued by you. and hanbin was almost certain that something may happen to you so he wanted to be there as soon as you passed, not because he wanted to prevent it from happening.

he follows you into your apartment. and even though you could not see him at all, hanbin stayed at the balcony so that he was out of your way. he observed you from the balcony. he looks at how you start to prepare your own food, how you start to play some music, how you stopped making food momentarily just to dance along to the music. he looks at how you start singing alone, completely ignoring the food you were cooking.

hanbin cringed a bit, he could sense the food was getting burnt. but he forgets all about it, looking at how you dance to the music. you made the moves look effortless, hanbin was already more intrigued by you. you had witnessed multiple deaths on that very day, and yet, somehow, you made sure you had something to look forward to.

hanbin stays at the balcony, eyeing you carefully. you were different from everyone he had seen so far.

and he hoped you stayed that way.

hanbin was back on your balcony, looking at how you were crying over a tv show. humans were always a symbol of worthless to him. humans do the same things over and over again and most often, they die with a meaningless death, leaving a meaningless life behind. but yet you were so different. he has watched you laugh, cry, be angry and be so, so happy. how did you do it?

this became a regular occurrence. hanbin would fulfil his grim reaper duties throughout the day but by the evening, he was on your balcony, observing you. at times when you were out, he would follow you from afar, just in case you died.

he had follow you to little hang outs with your friends, seeing how you smile and laugh with them. for once, he loved seeing your smile. he probably has the way you smile memorised into his head already. it was the way you brighten up the room with your presence alone, managing to bring a smile on hanbin’s face too.

seeing the way you live your life, hanbin had a thought. what if he was alive? how would that feel? would he be like you too, helping everyone and making everyone smile? but hanbin was okay with still being a grim reaper. he got to see how you live your life. he saw the way you were so happy with just being alive. and with that, he was content.

hanbin was content that he, the grim reaper, was falling in love with life.

hanbin watches you get into the car after a hangout with your friend. this has now being going a months. he fell for life, and a part of him desperately wishes he was alive. he had never wanted to be alive before meeting you. and yet you, you were something.

he kept telling himself that he is only watching you in case you die and he should be there right at that moment. he could not afford to have a lost soul roaming around the streets. that would end up making you a ghost.

as you drive off, hanbin felt a gut-wrenching pain. oh no.

it was time.

hanbin knew he should not argue against the higher-ups, but he could not let you die. no. he had to stop it. out of everyone, you did not deserve it.

hanbin tries again and again to manifest something, but his abilities just stopped at accompanying those to the afterlife.

he could not change what’s already decided.

but that doesn’t meant he shouldn’t try.

he quickly follows your car, trying to harness any power in him to stop anything that could cause your death. hanbin simply won’t allow it to happen. not you. anyone but you-

he saw it. he witnessed everything. he sees you. and you-

saw him?

“time of death—” hanbin starts to say against his will. “—12:04am, cause of death, car accident.” his voice was soft.

why, out of everyone, did it have to be you? why did he, the grim reaper, have to fall for you?

death and life can’t mix. and even though you were dead, you still had the shot of being alive. but him?

he was the grim reaper, who is never alive, and who can never be alive.

he shouldn’t have fallen for life.

© taeraemisu do not copy my works !

[desktop-writes]

<; |AO3|Gala Au| >

(Part 1 of 14 ->)

Stardust Cogs

{TW: Vivisection Implication, Fear for a child's safety }

[Words: 1,605]

*Note: For overall warnings, please click on the Gala Au tab at the top of the page.*

Time was weird to a being outside of it. Streams of what may never be and what always was gracefully flowed around his tower, almost within reach but never touching. Clocks chimed in the distance, creating a lovely sound in accordance with the clicking of the gears that laid about his lair and the swishing of the pendulum inside of him. The babbling of the time stream outside completed the symphony that had always accompanied him in his work.

Clockwork was once living, as most who live in the Infinite Realms once were, but upon death, he had grown into a powerful being capable of manipulating time itself. He sat in his lair, waiting years upon decades to be reunited with his brother. It was one of his most joyous days when the time had arrived and he could welcome his brother with open arms. The memory sat with his most treasured ones, among the memory of meeting his nieces and nephew and claiming Daniel as his own.

Daniel Fenton was a child of an unordinary and peculiar fate. A hunter’s child that protects the hunted. A boy whose timeline refused to stay in a single piece, instead preferring to break into a multitude of pieces and clutter his floor. The pile of rust and rubble sat in the corner of his workshop. He opted to keep the pieces instead of willing them to melt back into ectoplasm. A far too human sense told him they were worth keeping; they were a part of something monumental.

That sense was correct, as the death and claiming of one Daniel Fenton was a very monumental occasion. The child had died and was revived as what was colloquially called a Halfa. A being who walks the tightrope of mortality with perfect balance, never leaning to one side or the other. He watched the children his child had grown close to. He watched their battles, whether they were internal or external, waiting for a perfect time to introduce himself.

The time came multiple days - or was it months - later. Destruction raged around the young child as tears carved valleys in his face. He was not allowed to comfort his child, as the Observants held a constant view on him. They hated his so-called ‘meddling’ in the time steam and had opted to lock him away and limit his abilities to the bare minimum. Just enough to keep his section of the time stream in order and to keep him from overpowering the Observants.

He looked at the face of his child, so young and full of grief, and became determined to defy the Observants. He quickly overpowered Daniel, setting him on the right course to beat the future and change his destiny. At the time, he could only do so much, but upon realizing that the future was not as predetermined as the Observants believed, they allowed him more freedom to utilize his abilities.

One of those more loosened abilities was seeing and manipulating future events, which came in handy for this very problem. Amongst the sea of cogs and gears was one brightly glowing red gear in Madeline Fenton’s timeline, indicating a world-ending consequence from the single point. Clockwork pulled the fairly newly formed cog out of its place and looked at the engraved label.

Madeline Fenton - August 09, 20xx

66 days in the future.

He moved to the viewing room and placed the gear in the player. The words that were engraved appeared on the screen. In a gesture towards the paused screen, he proceeded to play the event. Horror consumed him as he witnessed the unfolding scene before his eyes. He knew Madeline wasn’t the perfect parent, but he didn’t think that her need for approval- her need to be right- would lead to the atrocities that were assaulting his eyes. He bearly managed to stop the playback as tried to process the event that had folded before him.

There had to be something he could do.

There had to be.

He scoured the board laid before him, tracing all possible outcomes if this event were never to happen. It was for naught, as all the others lead to an even worse fate. He placed the gear back from where he had taken it and searched through other’s timelines, concocting an idea. If he can’t prevent the event, he can manage the fallout.

He looked through Jasmines’ first. She was going to leave Amnity Park for college soon; he thought. If he can ensure that Daniel could run to her place afterward, then he can attempt to manage the rest of the fallout. The only thing that held a stop gate in his plan was the fact that she had planned to do online college until Daniel was 18.

With that idea foiled, he set his eyes on Vladmir’s timeline. As much as he didn’t trust the older Halfa, there may be an event that could lure a potential plan into his sights. He had found one 48 days in the future. A gala in which he had invited some of the more wealthy people to. Amongst them was Bruce Wayne.

A man with a soft heart for children in need.

One of his niece’s most favored subjects.

His new plan fell right onto his lap. The man who had dealt with the trials and tribulations that the vigilante life could deal was the perfect person to help with the aftermath of this tragedy. He folded his work away, grabbed what was needed to go see his niece, and flew through an open window.

He had a debt to collect.

*****

His niece’s haunt is dark and murky. Buildings were crumbled on the outskirts and a gloomy overcast filled the surrounding sky. It shared quite a resemblance to her haunt in the living realms. He was let in quite easily, having the bond that he does with the owner of the haunt allowed that.

He quickly took flight after entering, watching the citizens engaged in friendly battles. Most people who lived in Gotham City as a mortal, no matter which Gotham City, would be drawn rather easily. She was a little overprotective of them. It reminded him of Daniel’s behavior with his sisters and his friends. His frown turned deep at the thought of Daniel, the scene still fresh in his mind. He gave a respectful nod to the two concept ghosts below him and continued his travels to see his niece.

He found her on the roof of a building, overlooking an abandoned haunt with a teacup in hand. She was wearing a long-sleeved morning dress and her cane leaning against the arm of her black iron garden chair. There was a somber feeling surrounding her as she gazed below. Clockwork let his eyes fall to below the building.

When the owner was still in the realms, a multitude of books had lined the walls of shelves, each being well-worn and well-loved. The haunt had stayed even after the resurrection of its occupant, knowing its occupant still had a chance to return. It had taken an oath of preservation from Ghostwriter to allow the books to be removed from their place and into a temperature-controlled storage room.

She perked up when he crossed over the rooftop boundary, turning her body to face her uncle. With her cane in hand, she lightly floated over to Clockwork, meeting him in the middle. Gotham pulled her uncle in a tight hug. Waves of MissedYou-Excited-Worried flooded through her bond. He reciprocated with MissedYouToo-Amused-VeryWorried.

They had sat back at the garden table, a second chair and teacup sitting opposite of her. He takes a small sip of the tea in front of him to settle his nerves. Lady Gotham’s face shifted to a more serious one as she set down her cup with a slight shake.

“ What has you so worried, Uncle?” she asked with multiple layers of concern underlying the thin professional tone. He took a few more seconds to gather words before answering with a slight shake in his voice.

“ In the near future, our future High Prince will encounter a tragedy that can not be changed. It will force him to flee his haunt in search of somewhere safe. I’m calling on you to repay your debt and allow Daniel and his sisters sanctuary in your living haunt when the time comes to fruition.” He knew it was a lot to ask but this was the only other way he could see a positive outcome for both the timeline and Daniel himself. His niece turned her head to the side, thinking of her answer. A soft smile appeared on her face while she stuck out her hand.

“I accept those terms of payment” and it was sealed with a handshake. Her soft smile turned sharp as a glimmer of mischief appeared in her eyes.

“ Besides, Danny and his mirror sister would be perfect for my Knight and Jazz looks so much like my Oracle. They would have been snatched up real quick.” She giggled as Clockwork pulled out a copy of the previous timeline so he could make the edits when he arrived back at the tower. He worked with her to make a plan to grab a connection between her Knights and his child’s Team. With her permission, he opens a portal into her haunt and allows three of Daniel’s rouges into Gotham City to play with her baby halfas.

The events shifted.

The red cog stopped glowing.

His child will be safe in the aftermath of the impending horrors.

And all is as it should be.

************************************************************************

So This has like 7 rough drafts but this is the final version. It has taken me roughly 2 years now to get this au in the air.

I have big plans for this Au and I'm excited to write all 14 parts.

Chapter One of Part Two will be posted shortly after this one while Chapter 2 will be posted in 3-10 days.

[halfagone]

Sudden thought I had:

Phantom, after everything he did for Amity, now being an adult (I'm putting at 27 here) with the necessary emotional maturity to recognize that he doesn't owe them anything, seals the portal, places the entire frame in his lair for safekeeping, along with all the blueprints his parents had, and leaves to go explore the world, like his little girl likes to do so much (I'm a sucker for Danny adopting Ellie, and being very supportive of her while also being always ready to be summoned next to her and crack some skulls if needed).

While going through Paris, and finding a pair of teenage heroes, like he and Valerie had once been, Danny decided he can take a break from his travelling to helpd these baby heroes and give them the training and support they need.

They get along better than anyone expected. Danny is Life and Death, Balance personified. Who else would be better to teach the hosts of Creation and Destruction than the one who embodies both in perfect balance?

I'm envisioning Danny sits down to have a nice chat with the Guardian about getting the kids proper training, and he's not going anywhere. The kwami in the box swarm him because he feels like a spirit of incredible power, and really, what else would happen except Danny finding himself taking spiritual custody over two teenage heroes who are clearly way over their heads fighting literal adults.

Step number one: get legal custody of Adrien Agreste and get his father charged to the fullest extent of the law for being so negligent to his own son.

I'm seeing this going 2 ways:

Danny gets custody over Adrien, moves into an apartment next to the Dupain-Cheng bakery, and their place becomes Vigilante Central, with Phantom often watching over the kids as they go out at night, typically going invisible to not give away his presence.

Hawkmoth tries one last desperate move to get the Miraculous before the police come for him. He takes to the field...and is subsequently trounced by Phantom, who beats him into the ground for picking on a bunch of children instead of getting therapy.

Plucking the Miraculous and setting the kwami within free from the old man's control, certainly expedited the process of acquiring custody over Adrien, but it also sent the poor boy spiraling for a while.

Or 2:

Their entire issues are solved by Gabriel being unable to use his Miraculius, because prison doesn't really...allow...jewellery. Which means Hawkmoth no longer shows up. Until Natalie, ever loyal to her boss, picks up the Moth Miraculous and tries to make his dreams come true. Except Phanton is...a little more ready to throw hands, and by the gods she's going to catch them whether she wants to or not.

By the end of it, Danny just doesn't really go anywhere else. Just stays in France full-time to help raise these two reckless kids. And sure, Marinette has her own wonderful parents. Doesn't mean Adopted Cousin Fenton won't spoil her rotten and enable all her chaotic gremlin tendencies while also keeping her safe. Add Ellie into the mix, and Paris has never been more happy and yet annoyed by all these gremlin heroes running around, cracking the most awful jokes and keeping the city safe.

I actually really like the idea of option 2, not gonna lie. I like the slow, dawning realization some people might have, Adrien specifically, as they realize the possible reason for Hawkmoth's sudden disappearance. While I usually like public reveals for Danny, for Hawkmoth I actually prefer more low-key ones because I know people would probably blame or question Adrien for not knowing sooner. (Because let's face it, this is the same world that lets kids like Chloé get away with all sorts of stuff.) So I think if I ever wrote a fic following along with this kind of idea, I would actually go the route of #2.

You're giving me such brain worms, don't do this to me! One of these days I may actually have to commit to a crossover between these two specifically, and I already have so much to write TAT

[its-the-sa]

Do you think Artificer can be blamed for the death of her pups? At least partially i think.

She took the pups to the facility in the first place (Could been seen as child abduction as the father didn't agree with it), taking them to a very dangerous location instead of keeping them safe in the colony due to her own instability from ostracization.

Kept them isolated meaning the pups wouldnt understand societal rules like theft not being allowed, or even just the concept of theft.

This led to them taking the pearls and getting killed by the scavengers, who as you said in an earlier ask, use lethal force over minor disputes, like robbing a pearl due to the culture and the assumption of the cycle.

And when it all could have been avoided by Artificer allowing the pups to join the colony properly, she ran, killed her mate, and set it motion so much more death

yes to all of this! i am actually delighted that you've connected all those pieces, because this is exactly how i wanted the story to be percieved. i wanted to give arti a redemption arc, but i wanted it to be on hard mode: no room for anyone to tell her 'it's ok, it wasn't your fault.' so my entire thought process behind her backstory was pretty much just "how culpable can I make her before she becomes irredeemable?"

so yeah, she can definitely be blamed, and she knows it. she made a series of selfish, irresponsible decisions that led directly to her pups' permadeath, and she couldn't handle the weight of that guilt. so she tried to run from it, and she turned herself into the monster her colony always thought she was.

that's part of the reason why she's so awkward around children now; she's still struggling to cope with the fact that she was a bad parent to her own pups, and she doesn't trust herself to do better yet.

(however, I feel like I should add that arti isn't solely to blame... while she definitely made a lot of terrible choices leading up to it, the actual death of her pups was 100% the fault of the toll guards. it is common for scavs to kill each other over petty things, but even by those standards, it's still a massive dick move to kill a child over a single pearl. its like... imagine a grown adult punching a 7-year-old kid in the face for swiping their wallet. sure, the kid shouldn't have been stealing, but that's no excuse to treat them the same way you'd treat some dude at the bar. so, regardless of arti's own responsibility in endangering her pups, i do think her wrath toward the scavs who did the killing was completely justified. and if she hadn't gone on to slaughter the rest of the garbage wastes tribe too, most of them would've agreed.)

[roobylavender]

do you think bruce is abusive? i don't mean in the physical way they've been writing his as recently but emotionally.

it's very clear that he does love his children but some abusers do genuinely love the people they hurt and just think they are in the right (thinking of my own dad who somehow couldn't understand why we didn't want to talk to him because he always took care of us but treated our mother. badly. and in front of us when we were little kids.)

and i'm not sure whether i count bruce in that because while it doesn't look like what i'm familiar with i thought i'd ask because only recently i've actually come across people who see him as abusive but do actually see the character as he is and love it and i was wondering what you thought

sorry if i'm dumping too much on you or it isn't something you want to answer, feel free to delete/ignore, i just think the answer is more interesting from people who genuinely love and understand bruce as a character as you seem to and i've only seen it from two other people so i wondered what you thought

i don't mind answering! this is one of those asks where i wish i tagged my stuff bc i've talked about it before but my outbox tag is so populated that it takes way too long to search through lol (and unfortunately as we all know tumblr's in-blog search function is broken beyond repair). but tldr i would say bruce as he's existed for the past thirty years or so is abusive. my divergence in opinion is simply that i don't think he ever should have been made so. his more modern characterization as someone reactive and prone to lashing out at others, particularly his children, has never made sense to me and i don't think it's heavily supported by pre-crisis canon. the extent of bruce's failings as a parent should reflect his inability to communicate and his growing tendency to be a shut-in. which i know some people take to be comparable to neglect but ig i don't think it should ever go that far.. like when i say inability to communicate i don't mean him failing to take care of his kids or giving them their due attention when he's raising them but moreso falling into a pit of despair and guilt once they've reached adulthood bc he feels like he's signed their death note by enabling their lives as vigilantes. i do think parentification can potentially come into it but ideally i would want it to be nipped in the bud sooner rather than later if that makes sense. like we should've been over bruce's depressive "i'm a terrible parent and everyone i love dies so i should just do everything on my own and slowly k*ll myself in the process" episode by the early 00s at latest. and it should've been acknowledged that a large part of what drove him into that depressive episode was jason's death, so realistically being given the time and space to process jason's death and its implications properly would have allowed for bruce to seek closure and move forward and be less.. whatever he is now. to me the successive whammies of identity crisis and war games and under the hood deliberately thwarted that

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ian Millhiser at Vox:

The Supreme Court handed down a strange set of opinions on Monday evening, which accompanied a decision that largely reinstates Idaho’s ban on gender-affirming care for minors. The ban was previously blocked by a lower court. None of the opinions in Labrador v. Poe spend much time discussing whether such a ban is constitutional — although Justice Brett Kavanaugh’s concurring opinion does contain some language suggesting that he and Justice Amy Coney Barrett will ultimately vote to uphold the ban.

Rather, seven of the nine justices split into three different camps, each of which proposes a different way that the Court should handle cases arising on its “shadow docket,” a mix of emergency motions and other matters that the Court decides on an expedited basis — often without full briefing or oral argument. The Labrador case arose on the Court’s shadow docket. Indeed, Idaho’s lawyers did not even attempt to defend its restrictions on gender-affirming care on the merits. Instead, they argued that the lower court went too far by prohibiting the state from enforcing its ban against any patient or any doctor. A majority of the justices agreed with the state, ruling that the ban cannot be enforced against the actual plaintiffs in this case, two trans children and their parents, but that it can be enforced against anyone who has not yet sought a court order allowing them to receive gender-affirming care.

How the justices divided in this case

While none of the justices discussed at much length whether they think the Constitution permits Idaho to ban transgender health care, every justice but Chief Justice John Roberts and Justice Elena Kagan joined one of three opinions laying out how they think the Court should respond to parties asking them to provide relief on the Court’s shadow docket. Ordinarily, the Supreme Court waits until a case has been fully litigated in the lower courts before weighing in on a case in any way. Under its normal process, the Court also typically receives hundreds of pages’ worth of briefing on a case, hears oral argument, and spends months deliberating on how to decide it. Cases on the shadow docket, by contrast, ask the justices to bypass this ordinary process, typically to block a lower court order before the case has been fully resolved by a lower appellate court. The justices used to grant shadow docket relief very rarely — most often in death penalty cases where the inmate would be executed if the Court did not intervene swiftly — but it started granting it very often in the Trump administration after Trump’s Justice Department started routinely requesting shadow docket relief.

The justices divided into three camps in the Labrador case, with each camp joining concurring or dissenting opinions laying out how they think shadow docket cases should be resolved moving forward. Justice Neil Gorsuch, joined by Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito, faulted the lower court for issuing a “universal injunction” that prohibits Idaho from applying its anti-trans law to any party. Gorsuch argued that courts should issue more limited orders when a state or federal law is successfully challenged, which only prevent the state or the federal government from enforcing its law against the specific plaintiffs who brought the successful challenge. Kavanaugh, joined by Barrett, argued that, in shadow docket cases, the Court often “has little choice but to decide the emergency application by assessing likelihood of success on the merits.” That means the Court’s decision to grant shadow docket relief will often turn on whether they think the party seeking such relief should ultimately prevail when the courts reach a final decision in the case.

That’s potentially very bad news for transgender children. Though Kavanaugh's opinion does not discuss whether he thinks Idaho’s law is constitutional, the fact that he voted to reinstate the law (except with respect to the two plaintiff families in this case) suggests that he thinks Idaho has a “likelihood of success on the merits” when the ultimate question of whether trans health care bans are legal reaches the Supreme Court. Finally, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, joined by Justice Sonia Sotomayor, argued that the Court should show more “restraint” when it is asked to grant shadow docket relief. She argues that “our respect for lower court judges — no less committed to fulfilling their constitutional duties than we are and much more familiar with the particulars of the case — normally requires an applicant seeking an emergency stay from this Court after two prior denials to carry ‘an especially heavy burden.’” Although neither Roberts nor Kagan joined any of these opinions, Kagan briefly indicated that she would have denied the request to reinstate Idaho’s law in its entirety.

SCOTUS handed down a shadow docket decision permitting Idaho's law banning gender-affirming care (HB71) to take effect while Labrador v. Poe is still being litigated in lower-level courts. #SCOTUS

[so-long-soldier-writes]

comfort

kai parker

summary: a flashback to his childhood. a terrifying memory he thought he had repressed.

tags: dead dove, non-graphic descriptions, physical abuse, child abuse, sexual abuse, nonconsensual / noncon, underage, parent/child incest, mother/son incest, hand-jobs, blowjobs, repressed emotions, minor character death, sociopathy, anger/rage

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this not an 'x reader' fic, however, i may write a separate one-shot where he does talk about this stuff with her, and actually gets some real comfort from a person he's grown to trust.

also, i don't know why i wrote this. i don't know why i'm posting it, either. but i do feel like writing and reading this kind of fiction has helped me with my own traumas, in some way. i don't understand it, but as long as it's recognized as fiction, i don't think it's wrong to engage with it. if it bothers anyone, i can take it down, or move the page break to the top, before the warnings.

On the night of his mother’s death, Kai had never felt so numb. 

He was crowded in a room with his father and seven siblings, all of them sobbing and sneezing as they huddled around her body, willing her back from the hands of death, but he felt numb. Nothing. No sadness, no joy, no emotion at all. He stared at her, mind completely void, as he tried to think up a good memory of the woman, as prompted by his father to his siblings. 

“Everyone share your favorite memory with her,” he said in between sobs. The children immediately started spilling out their hearts. Snot dribbled from their noses and dripped down to the carpet. The oldest two were dry heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths, and the youngest were crying. His twin sister held one, while his father held the other, but nothing helped. “Malachai?” His father turned to him, “your turn to share something.”

Kai had nothing. When he opened his mouth, his tongue tripped over the first word - the I, in ‘I don’t know’.

“Malachai?” He asked again, nostrils beginning to flare. If Kai didn’t say something soon, he knew what would happen. But when he tried to speak, nothing would come out. “Would you give us a moment?’” He addressed his children.

Joshua took his eldest son by the hand then, gripping tightly, and dragged him to the garage. There, he slapped him across the face, pushed him up against the wall, and hit him in the stomach. Everything he needed to say, he said in his actions, and that was enough. Kai had grown used to his father communicating with his fists. 

“Twenty-four hours,” he spat, wetness hitting Kai’s cheek. The boy wasted no time getting up and heading to his room, where he’d be for the next day. Only this time, he wondered what it would be like without his mother. 

---

Madeline never had the same relationship with her firstborn son as she did her first daughter. They were twins, and expected to be loved the same, though that quickly proved not the case as they grew older. 

The change started around the time they turned four. At this time, his sister, Josette had begun to develop her magic, but Kai was never able. First impressions were that Kai was simply behind his sister in his development, but soon, whispers of something more sinister were born. 

At age six, the coven’s deepest fear was confirmed as true: Kai was a siphon, and could not produce magic himself. Then, like a black sheep, he was casted out from his family. His sister could not play with him, his coven could not give him affection, his own mother was not allowed to touch him. They feared he’d steal their magic and hurt them in the process, and so contact became forbidden. 

Madeline cried when told she could not reach for the child she bore. Her own flesh and blood, yet if she touched him, he could cause her harm. Her relationship with him became an obsession. She would cast him aside like the rest of the coven, but when given even a second alone, she’d return to him, coddling him with affection. She craved closeness she could not give, and her desires made her spiral out of control. 

Malachai was eight when his mother’s attention became one of his greatest threats. What happened was something he didn’t understand until much later in life, a sinking feeling in the soul as the memory resurfaces. Buried deep to protect himself and only remembered when he came across an old story she used to tell him to lull him to sleep.

Joshua would sit beside her as she’d read the story of Peter Pan, and she wouldn’t dare to brush the hair from his face. She wouldn’t kiss him goodnight, nor would she tuck the blanket up to his chin. She put her son to bed, and then she and her husband would leave the room. 

But on nights where Joshua had meetings with the coven leaders, and Madeline would stay home with her three children, she would visit him in the night. The woman would creak the door open very quietly and check to see if the boy was awake. Usually, he’d be fast asleep. Madeline would then crawl up next to him on the bed and trace her fingertips along his blanket. If Malachai did not stir, she’d slip a hand underneath the sheets and feel for his soft skin. First on his stomach, but her hand always traveled further than a mother’s should. One hand held his waist while the other felt his length, at the time, barely three inches. Her heart swelled with pride - three inches at eight years meant he’d grow much thicker by puberty. Girls would be tripping over their feet to sleep with him, she’d smile to herself. 

Sometimes while she was rubbing him, Kai would wake up. He would be confused at her presence in his room, but he’d never question it the way she held a finger to her lips. 

“I just missed you, baby boy,” she’d say, “mommy never gets to see her baby anymore.” And Kai, with a deep suspicion that something was wrong, yet never knowing what, didn’t ever ask. It was nice to receive attention from his mother, he had convinced himself. 

But by age twelve, it wasn’t such a nice feeling anymore. Madeline snuck into his room whenever possible, her head immediately ducking underneath his blankets. Her wet mouth would wrap around his length, a whole inch larger now, and pleasure him in a way he didn’t understand. If he fought against her, or begged her to let him sleep, she’d shush him and continue without a care. She called these nights her Mommy Time, and if Malachai interrupted, she’d grow inpatient with him. Twice she slapped him across the face before putting her hands back on him. So, he eventually learned to let her have her way. 

At fourteen, like most children his age, Kai was a tenacious kid. The more he acted out against his father, the more time he served in punishment. And every time he would be barred from being with his family, his mother would be his only visitor. Kai hated every aspect of his home life. He hated his siblings’ chatter, he hated his father’s hand, he hated his mother’s tongue. Most of his days were spent in his room, by choice or by rule, leaving him to rot through his teenage years. 

Ten years had passed from the date he was banned from human contact. Eight had gone by since his mother took it upon herself to break that rule.

Madeline would have other children as the years went by. Year after year, his father would impregnate her, and she’d bear him another. It soon became more unusual to see her not pregnant than carrying. But whether she had just given birth or was still round, she would still come to see him in the night. Sometimes, her breasts would be full and leaking milk, and she would offer him a taste, but Kai would narrow his eyes and shake his head. The woman would shrug and continue her ministrations on his lower body. Kai would squeeze his eyes shut until the sinful pleasure lulled him to sleep. 

A few times throughout his teenage years, Kai would ask questions about the rituals. Most of the time, she would refuse to answer, again, with a finger to her lips, but sometimes she’d give him something vague to chew on, 

“This is common for boys your age, exploring your body. You’d be learning about this in school if you hadn’t gotten expelled. Since you can’t learn it there, I’m teaching you.” 

Another common one would be, “you should be lucky to have someone touching you at all. Your father has forbidden it, and if you are to tell, we’d both be in trouble.”

So Kai never told. Because as much as he feared nights with his mother, he feared days with his father more. He knew, partly, that his mother was right. If she weren’t going to show him attention, he’d never get it again. 

Nothing changed at sixteen. Nothing, except for the fact that he’s longer now and produces more. The feeling of his mother’s hand still feels wrong upon his body. Though with nothing to compare it to, nor anyone with whom he could discuss it, he doesn’t. 

A couple of times, he’s felt a tension in his stomach not caused by her unlawful touches. Something needy from inside himself. He tries to ignore it, but ignoring it, he learns, only makes it worse. The few times he’s reached for himself, to follow some internal instinct he doesn’t understand, he’s retracted his hands immediately. The trashcan in his bathroom soon finds a new residency beside his bed.

Eighteen isn’t a healthy year for Malachai. He’s skin and bones, and face is a sickly pale color. Old clothes hang off his shoulders, barely fitting his frame. Bruises cover his body, both those visible in their purplish tint, and those invisible, known only in his mind. 

His parents don’t seem to notice his decline. If they do, they don’t care. That is, until his little brother, Joey, pokes his arm one time, and looks up to his father. “Malachai doesn’t look so good, daddy.” 

Joshua’s eyes go wide at the sight of his younger son touching his eldest. He sweeps him off his feet and scolds Kai, “do better.” Like Kai can control the way he looks when his father more often beats than feeds him. 

After that, though, his parents give a little more attention to his appearance. His father makes sure he eats three meals, and his mother applies a salve to the bruises that his clothes don’t hide. 

By twenty, he’s back to a normal weight. For the first time in years, he feels a strength accompany him, something he refuses to let slip through his fingers. His mind wants to fight; his body wants to escape. He’s been held down and tormented for twelve years. Twelve years too many, and won’t stand for a single one more. 

Twenty, it seems, is a year of change for more than just Kai. The year prior, his mother fell pregnant again, but that time, with twins. When the ultrasound of the unborn fetuses was produced, the coven had a small celebration, as if this was something they’ve been waiting for. Kai, feeling confused, angry, humiliated, and anxious all in one, watched from the window. The longer he stared, the more numb he began to feel. 

The twins’ arrival stole a lot of their mother’s attention. They were restless children, always seeming to need something from her. But despite their constant cries, she still made time to visit him in his bed. Fewer nights she’d come, though she demanded from him the same. So he let his mother do as she always had done, but now, instead of squeezing his eyes shut in the midst of the pain, he let his mind run wild. The pain turned to anger - red hot and eating him alive. Revenge carved itself a corner in his head, and hours were spent planning how he’d get it. The more space it took, the less he cared for other things, but Kai didn’t feel it necessary to occupy himself with anything else. In that moment, he chose to survive. 

Later that year, his planning was cut short by his mother’s death. She went in her sleep, in her own bed, and beside her husband. There was no warning, except for a mild flu she had earlier in the week. It was sudden, and unexplainable, but the doctor on call assured it was at least painless. Kai’s eye twitched at the news. Some dark part of him wanted her to suffer in her last moments. Just a little slice of what she made him feel would be enough retribution. Yet, she never paid. And now she was gone. 

Twenty-four hours later, when Kai had served his punishment in silence, and was allowed to return to his mother’s bedside, the paramedics came to take her body. He didn’t care to see it, nor smell the rotting corpse his father had probably slept beside that night. The paramedics entered quietly and worked swiftly, as if spelled to not ask questions. A doctor spoke to Joshua in hushed silence, careful to not let children overhear. The children, herded in a corner by Josette, only stared at the scene of their mother being carried out. His twin sister had tears in her eyes, but none of them fell. She locked eyes with Kai. A face wet with rain met a desert. She looked away in disgust, while he looked down, feeling nothing. 

“All due respect, Mr. Parker, if you had taken her to a doctor, we may have been able to catch if something was wrong earlier,” Kai heard the doctor say. His heartbeat quickens knowing there was a way to prevent this. Maybe she did suffer. 

“Madeline hated doctors. I’d never make her do something she wouldn’t want to do.”

“It might have saved her life. You can’t have eight children without any medical intervention and expect no complications, sir.”

“I would never go against the will of my wife. She hated modern medicine. Speaking of, release her body to me after you find the cause of death. I would like to bury her in my family’s tradition.”

“Very well, Mr. Parker. And again, I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Kai watched the body as it was wheeled out of the house, knowing in only a short time, it would be brought right back. His mother would be buried alongside the rest of the family, and the coven would gather to celebrate her life. Kai looked over to the small gravesite by the side of the house. Flowers had grown atop it, but they wouldn’t be there for much longer. 

When paramedics finally began to drive away, Josette cracked. A whine escaped her lips, and it quickly became a sob. She fell to her knees. Her father and their siblings rushed to her side, offering comfort he’d never felt. Comfort, to mourn the loss of a woman who had only ever hurt him. Kai’s throat dries. His head hurts, and there’s a pang in his heart. But it’s not for love, nor mourning of the woman, but for rage. Rage that his childhood was so different from his twin’s. Jealousy, anger, resentment, towards all those in his family who didn’t share the same fate of his youth. Kai’s need for revenge didn’t dissipate after his mother’s death, though that’s what he had expected. In fact, it only grew. 

It became his only comfort. Something he never felt from his family, but could find deep within himself. But to have it, he’d have to separate himself even more than he already was. A small price to pay: to sacrifice his sanity for survival. It was a price he was willing to pay. 

[waitmyturtles]

Eternal Yesterday. Before I dive into a meditation on memory, let me get a couple words down regarding a memory about memories.

I’ve written before that I’m pretty sure the first piece of Japanese art I ever consumed was Yoshimoto Banana’s novel, “Kitchen.” But also memorably, in college, I watched Koreeda Hirokazu’s film, “After Life.”

“After Life” is about a group of counselors who exist in purgatory. Their job is to meet the souls of those who have recently passed away, and interview them about the memory they want to re-live in their afterlives. Many of them choose memories related to their children or spouses, or moments in time that gave them beautiful feelings, such as snuggling against their parents when they were small children themselves. Over time, it’s revealed that the counselors are living in this purgatory because they themselves haven’t chosen a memory to live with. The story particularly focuses on two counselors who come to terms with their decisions, and how it changes them.

I’m reflecting on this movie because when I watched it, so long ago in college (me, old), it was one of the first pieces of art from Asia in which I saw that a quiet tone and even pace to delivering a message via content was incredibly vital to accurately conveying that message. In this case, the tone and pace of the movie was necessary to indicate that choosing this everlasting memory was a very important decision, indeed — it would be the very last decision these souls would make.

And I think there was something similar happening here in Eternal Yesterday.

The wonderful @bengiyo’s review of the show made me realize that while I was slightly confused and bemused by the magical realism play of Koichi not being quite dead throughout the series, that there was a very deep and real point to the concept that Koichi was a living corpse. I think that point relates, at least for me, to the reflection that I’m having on “After Life.”

It’s not clear if, in the universe of Eternal Yesterday, if people outside the circle of Mitsuru’s life who pass away can also experience a moment of living death; in other words, I’m not clear if this is a common occurrence in the world of this show outside their characters. Nevertheless, I’m only going to focus on Mitsuru for a second:

The fact that this phenomenon happened to two very close people in his life makes me think that the concept was designed here as a means for helping Mitsuru to begin the process of mourning. I think it was designed as a means for preparing Mitsuru to begin the process of letting go -- by leaving him with a slew of gorgeous memories, with the people he loved, as a means of him living out the love he has for them for the rest of his ontological life. 

I am twisted with angst, beautiful and saddened angst, at the thought of this concept. It is unbelievably COMPASSIONATE to me that there would be a concept that the way for someone living, to let go of someone who has passed, with a moment in a kind of purgatory that allows two people to create their final memories together, intentionally -- I mean. How much more humane and empathic can art get?

I was drawn to this show by the intense reviews of the series finale by @gillianthecat and @lelephantsnail, two people with amazing taste in shows, and when I saw how much Eternal Yesterday moved you two, I had to eat this show up, and I totally get why. For me, I’m totally wrapped up in the intensity that BOTH MITSURU AND KOICHI got to have their final moments together, knowingly, INTENTIONALLY. It’s gut-wrenching.

And there’s one more point that’s really getting to me -- it’s something related to why I really need to learn Japanese in my older age. 

Earlier in the series, during the campsite confession scene, I thought that (at least on Viki, I don’t know about other translations), the English translation of the word ichiban to “my number one” was a little inaccurate. I thought it was incredibly cute that the the guys called each other their ichiban, but I thought that “number one” as a translation was a little reductive in the context of a confession.

Ichiban, to me, meant something more like “superlative” in that moment. I think (I think!) it was meant to indicate something like, “I like you the very best of all,” rather than the guys saying to each other that they were each other’s “number ones.”

I’m harping on this because I was totally, utterly wasted and gutted by Mitsuru’s final words in the last episode -- when he said about Koichi, ichiban aishiteru.

I’m a real sucker for aishiteru in doramas, especially BLs. I was wrecked when Adachi used it to describe his love for Kurosawa to Kurosawa’s parents in the Cherry Magic movie earlier this year. 

It’s because I think it’s really necessary that this word is used more in Japanese BLs, because of how it indicates the very heavy and deep love that one partner has for another. For me, the usage of the word is a very welcome BL trope (I remember it being used memorably in Life: Love on the Line, when Akira uses it with Yuki when they meet again in Alaska). 

Aishiteru indicates the only love, the permanent love, the absolute love of a lifetime that exists between two people. It blows away the everyday English “love” by way of intensity and permanence. (I think it belongs in BLs so that audiences can see that aishiteru can exist in same-sex couplings -- it’s not limited to cishet pairings.)

What twisted me about ichiban aishiteru is that it indicated that Mitsuru was going to be OKAY with this reality for his lifetime -- that Koichi was going to be his superlative and permanent love for the rest of Mitsuru’s lived life. Mitsuru wouldn’t say such a heavy thing if it weren’t true. It was SO BEAUTIFUL to me that he used this phrase. I’m so messed up by it because of how concretely and resolutely Mitsuru said it. 

@bengiyo wrote in their review that this show is “poignant queer cinema,” and I could not agree more. Eternal Yesterday was DEEPLY satisfying and moving. And, I think, necessary in the library of BLs, to demonstrate depth of love between two characters that could not stop or help themselves to love each other. 

(THANKS @gillianthecat and @lelephantsnail, for the encouragement! Fantastic recommendation.)

[pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop]

Onix & Steelix

Onix (#095)

Lapiserpensis lapiserpensis

General Information: Onix the Rock Snake Pokémon, but the “snake” part is misleading, for Onixes are completely unrelated to snakes! This Pokémon is composed of a segmented rocky body. Each segment can rotate a full 360 and its segments are capable of disconnecting and reconnecting—though this process does hurt, it does not kill the Onix, instead allowing it to evade potentially life-threatening damage by simply falling apart. They also have regeneration abilities—an Onix that loses segments can slowly regrow them, but this takes time and the more segments they’ve lost, the longer it takes and the harder it is for them to find food.

The brain of an Onix has a magnetic component to it, allowing the Onix to always know what direction it’s facing.

The tunnels produced by Onixes burrowing through the ground are repurposed by Digletts! The Digletts are completely unafraid of the Onixes, who have no interest in eating them, so the relationship is commensalistic.

Onix averages at 28’10 feet (8.8 M) long, and weighs an average of 463 pounds (210 kg).

Habitat: Onixes live in mountains and canyons, wherever deep rocky deposits can be found.

Life Cycles: Onix are born in sets of 2-3 babies during the winter, when the world above is asleep and there is nothing to disturb the newborns. There are not many predators of infant Onixes, but they are some, and they include Aggrons and Tyranitars. Two of the most fiercesome apex predators around! During this winter period, the two parents diligently attend to the baby Onixes and bring them food in the form of torn-up and half-chewed prey. These nests are often buried deep into the ground in an effort to evade the detection of an Aggron, who will gladly feast upon the baby Onixes.

When Spring comes, the Onixes have gotten bigger and stronger, and are ready to try hunting for their own prey. Despite not being snakes, they have the ability to constrict their bodies like one, but most of the time they use their powerful jaws to crush prey to death instead of attempting to constrict them.

An Onix will stay with its parents for 4-5 years, during which time they experience parental protection and learn all that they can from their parents. They are also at their most vulnerable sizes in these years. When at last they do move on from their parents burrows, they seek out territories of their own. At around 7-8 years old, an Onix becomes reproductively mature and may seek a mate. When it’s time to lay eggs, they will mate in the early summer, lay at the end of summer, and the eggs hatch at the beginning of winter. They will lay eggs once every 4-6 years, or sooner if they were unlucky with the previous batch.  

Behavior: Courtship rituals are long and complicated, but once a pair have chosen to mate, they have chosen to mate for life. They are truly dedicated parents that will aggressively defend their nests from predators—one is always around to watch the babies while the other goes out to hunt. Should an unfortunate incident happen to one parent, all of the parental duties fall onto the remaining parent, who must risk being a single parent or find a new mate.

When an Onix sleeps, they are said to be deep sleepers.

Diet: Onix are the primary predators of Geodudes, Roggenrolas, Rolycolys, Naclis, and Bonslys. It is a myth that Onixes eat boulders—this is humans mistaking unlucky Gravelers for boulders!

Conservation: Least Concern

Relationship with Humans: Onixes have existed for as long as humans can remember. They do no real harm to people, other than as a general nuisance that shake the ground. The only prey that Onixes consume that’s of concern to humans, are Naclis, and a wise Onix knows to stay clear of the Naclis that live with humans.

Onix make excellent companions and guardians to children. The main drawback with them is that they’re huge. Like, absolutely gigantic, but in olden times it wasn’t unheard of to use an Onix as a livestock guardian, even if it was rather peculiar.

Classification: Onix’s genus name is “Lapiserpensis” which means “rock snake.” It is the defining species of the genus.

Steelix (#208)

Lapiserpensis metallicus

General Information: Steelix the Iron Snake Pokémon, it is the evolved form of Onix. They can dig far deeper into the Earth’s crust, deeper than even Onix, with depths reached as far down as 6/10 of a mile into the crust.

Steelix average at 30’2 feet (9.2 M) tall and weigh about 881.8 pounds (400 kg).

Steelix has a Mega Evolution that is about 34’5 feet (10.5 M) tall and that weighs 1,631.4 pounds (740 kg).

Habitat: Steelix live in rocky deposits, including deep into the crust of the Earth. They like mountains and caves.

Life Cycles: Steelix evolve from Onix after either consuming a magical substance called a Metal Coat, or after living an long life of iron-rich diets and the growing pressure and hardening of its body—which occurs around 100 years old.  

Steelixes have no known upper limit on their life spans, with the biggest cause of death being injuries in combat, disease, or a very lucky Dusknoir.

Behavior: Steelix are violent apex predators of the rock-bodied ecosystem. They are also aggressively attentive parents against would-be predators. They are not terribly social creatures, but do mildly tolerate others of their kind. Territorial disputes are a thing, but they generally respect each other’s territories as a matter of propriety. Some speculate that Steelixes are one of the best parents in the Pokémon world, and it seems their life cycles back this up, because they are slow to reproduce and slow to grow up.

Diet: Steelix are the primary predators of Gravelers, Golems, Carkoals, Boldores, Naclstacks, and Glalies. They have been known to lock into fierce combat with Coalossals, Gigaliths, and Garganacls over food—sometimes the Steelix wins and successfully eats its opponent, and sometimes the Steelix loses.

Conservation: Least Concern

Relationship with Humans: The only time Steelixes have ever been of real concern to humans, is during mining operations. Small-scale mining hardly ever phases a Steelix, for their territories are deep and they prefer to eat Rock Pokémon and Glalies, not actual rocks. But the large-scale industrial mining operations of the modern world scare off their prey and the noise disturbs their babies and their sleep—causing the Steelix to grow agitated and destructive. An angry Steelix is a force of nature to the miners, and they have been the cause of thousands of deaths because of these conflicts.

In competition, a Mega Steelix is a sight to behold and there’s usually at least one trainer at the World Championship with a Mega Steelix.

Classification: Steelix is part of the Vivagaiaformes, or “Living Earth Pokémon.”

Evolution: Steelix evolves from Onix when it eats a Metal Coat. Alternatively, this could be a metaphorical item used to mark narrative development.

~~~~~~~~

Hey guess what, if you like my stuff, this is my website where you can find other Pokémon I've written on and more information about the game that I’m slowly making! Check it out! I write books sometimes too.

[ask-the-good-creeps]

Vigilante Pasta AU Timeline

//Hey, y’all. I’ve made a timeline for this AU, but it is longggg. I’ve broken it up into 4 parts, and the links to all of them will be at the start of the Masterlist post that’s pinned on the blog. Let me know if I missed anything! 

NOTE: THIS MASTERLIST (ALL 4 PARTS) CONTAIN SENSITIVE MATERIAL, INCLUDING DEATH, SUICIDE, ABUSE, ETC.//

PART ONE

385 AD

OCTOBER: The entity we know as 'Slenderman' moves into the mortal world with the intention of forcing humanity to bend to the will of 'the Divine'. Zalgatoth (Zalgo) also begins to extend influence here (though he cannot physically visit) solely to interfere with the Slenderman's plans and allow humans to retain their autonomy. Slenderman brings Splendorman, Trenderman, and Offenderman in expecting them to side with him, though they soon begin to drift into working toward their own goals. A war hidden from human eyes begins between the two sides.

1565

APRIL: The children of Novgorod, Russia have been hearing their parents anxiously discuss their worries about the more concerning acts of tyranny committed by Tsar Ivan the Terrible and where it may lead. The children make believe that they have strong protectors that are kind, fun, and whimsical. An entity among Zalgo's ranks finds it endearing and brings their imaginary playmates into reality: thus, Pop and Cane are created. However, they are bound to a music box with two dancing bears in it, and they cannot interact with the world unless the box is open and playing its music.

1570

AUGUST: The Slenderman is angered by the otherworldly jesters’ presence in the mortal realm and sees it as blatant disrespect from Zalgo that he allowed one of his minions to do this. Slenderman manipulates Ivan the Terrible's paranoia to convince him that the people of Novgorod are secretly working with his enemies. Ivan sends his personal army, the Oprichnina, to slaughter them all as a result of this. Pop and Cane are bound to their box during the massacre, which not a single man, woman, or child managed to escape. The Candy Twins are beside themselves with grief and horror but are unable to do anything. The soldiers raid the homes of the deceased citizens for items they can take, and in the process one of them smashes the music box. This ends up freeing Pop and Cane permanently. The duo immediately sees to having Tsar Ivan strangled for the atrocities he ordered.

1722

MAY: A one of a kind, colorful, Laughing-Jack-in-a-Box is spawned for a lonely little boy named Isaac in England. The creation of the Jack inside is not due to the Slenderman, Zalgo, or anyone in league with either of them; to this day, Laughing Jack's creator and that creator's motives remain an enigma. However, the Slenderman mistakenly believes the clown is a product of Zalgo's faction and seeks to ruin him.

1726

JULY: Isaac has sealed Laughing Jack in his box, as his mother has informed him he will be going away to a boarding school. Both mother and son have been tricked, and in reality, little Isaac is the Slenderman's first attempt at a human proxy. Isaac spends years being psychologically manipulated and forced to do the entity's bidding, and eventually comes to enjoy it.

1738

FEBRUARY: Isaac is returned to his now-empty childhood home when the Slenderman becomes tired of his experiment. Despite most of his memory of the past years being a blank fog, he still has the urge to shed the blood of heathens and miscreants and does not deny himself indulgence in this craving. Laughing Jack is forced to watch the carnage and is unaware of the Slenderman's existence or involvement.

1747

SEPTEMBER: Isaac nostalgically releases a heavily traumatized Laughing Jack one night, who immediately sets to torturing him mercilessly. Jack kept Isaac alive and suffering for nearly 47 hours before his body gave out, after which Jack simply started to wander around, completely invisible to the people around town.

OCTOBER: Laughing Jack encounters the Slenderman for the first time, and the faceless entity attempts to convince him to join its crusade for order and conformity. Jack blatantly refuses, as he has no respect for religion in any context after watching Isaac's mother and conformity doesn't suit his tastes anyhow. The rogue seraph doesn't take this well in the slightest, and Jack is quite thankful he can teleport away like he does.

1751

MARCH: Laughing Jack meets Candy Pop and Candy Cane for the first time and joins them in their search for Zalgo so that they all may request his protection from the Slenderman. Zalgo informs them that the mortal realm is open territory, and he cannot prevent the Slenderman from pursuing them there, but offers them their own 'pocket dimensions', where nobody can enter without their permission. This offer is gratefully accepted, and now Laughing Jack has his carnival and the jesters have the Candy Circus.

1896

JUNE: Jason exists. He has no memory of where he came from or how he spawned seemingly out of nowhere, but he knows his passion and mission is to bring joy to the children he encounters with unique and wonderful toys he makes. It is generally assumed that Jason was created by the same mysterious being that brought Laughing Jack about, but this cannot be confirmed as fact.

1899

JANUARY: Jason dedicates a corner of his shop to be a play area where children who can't afford to purchase new toys can come and play with them to their hearts content each day (respectfully, of course – Jason doesn't like to see his toys treated callously). The boy he met that inspired this project, named George, offers to help with chores around the toy shop as a gesture of gratitude, and is pleasantly surprised when Jason hands him a few coins after to pay him for his work.

DECEMBER: Jason has noticed a small child regularly peering in the window of his shop and ducking out of sight when the toymaker turns his head in that direction. One day, he waits behind the door and greets the boy when he appears, and invites him into the shop. The child is shy and hesitant, and based on the shoddy rags the boy is wearing as clothing, he assumes other shop owners have chased him away because he doesn't have spending money for their wares. Jason waves him in and allows him to play with some of the toys in the shop without worrying about buying or not.

1900

1906

DECEMBER: George has been coming by several times a week since then to help with whatever work Jason can find. Sometimes the toymaker can't find anything for him to help with, as Jason is a naturally clean and organized person anyway. On those days, George would watch him work, or wander the aisles and marvel at the incredible works on the shelves. Jason doesn't want to leave the child empty-handed for the holiday season, so in lieu of paid work he gives George a custom toy that has no other in its likeness anywhere in the shop: a fuzzy little mouse with wheels for feet. George watched in awe as Jason turned a silver key in its back and set it on the floor, only for it to scurry about in fun figure-8 patterns with a consistent mechanical purr. That memory of his laughter was the last Jason had of George in his shop.

1907

JANUARY: George had not visited in weeks, and Jason was quite worried. With some effort and assistance from passersby he manages to locate George's home, but a sour-faced man wordlessly slams the door in his face when he inquires about the child.

FEBRUARY: A small river of melting snow disturbs a shallow grave on the outskirts of the town, revealing the corpse of a child. A wind-up mouse toy is found in the pocket of the body's trousers, and a constable brings it back to its maker. The authorities had come to question Jason regarding George's death, as the child's parents had apparently pointed their fingers at the now-distraught toymaker. Jason tells them what he knows, and the constable admits that he doubted Jason's involvement in the crime to begin with – the cold had preserved the corpse fairly well, and cause of death was evidently starvation. George had not spent enough time in Jason's shop to be starved there.

MARCH: George's parents cast reasonable doubt on their alleged involvement in their son's death. His mother sobbed crocodile tears as she told the judge that he must have gotten lost and fallen in with ill company. Jason could swear he felt his blood boil when the couple were not found to be at fault or punished in any way, when everyone seemed to know what they'd done. He had kept the little mouse toy on his person since it was returned to him...and he held it safely in his pocket on the night he slaughtered those miserable bastards to avenge the child they hadn't cared for in the slightest. As he left the town, he wasn't happy to have abandoned his toy shop – but he regretted nothing else he did that night.

APRIL: Jason crosses paths with Laughing Jack, who warns him about the Slenderman. Without waiting for a response of any sort, Jack had teleported Jason straight to Zalgo so that he could gain protection as well. Jason admits to Zalgo how desperately he still mourns his toy shop, and Zalgo grants him not only a similar space but the ability to move it wherever he pleased so that he would never lose it again.

1914

NOVEMBER: With World War I starting up among the humans, the war between ancient entities seems to be drawing to a close. Slenderman agrees to a truce with Zalgo, and reduces his mettling with human affairs.

DECEMBER: Laughing Jack invites Jason to visit at his carnival, where the latter is also introduced to the pure chaos that is the Candy Twins (mainly Candy Pop).

1958

APRIL: On the 24th of the month, Ann Carrington is born via c-section to an exhausted mother and disappointed father, the latter of which had been hoping for a son.

1979

OCTOBER: On the [REDACTED] day of the month, Jack Robinson is born to two proud young parents.

1984

MAY: Ann Carrington has fulfilled her dream of becoming a registered nurse and begins work in a well-known psychiatric asylum under the direction of its founder, Dr. Abel Whitworth, who has gained a reputation among the nurses for behaving very inappropriately with them.

1985

MARCH: On the 17th of the month, Jonathan Frank is born, the second son to his parents.

1987

SEPTEMBER: Nurse Ann has refused Dr. Whitworth's advances despite his threats to her career. He attempts to force her, but she successfully defends herself and runs off. A bitter Whitworth has her relocated to the most dangerous ward of the asylum in retaliation. Within two weeks of this reassignment, Ann is murdered by a homicidal patient who somehow managed to get ahold of a straight razor. Her body had already been hacked into pieces by the time anyone went looking for her. She woke up in the morgue without a pulse and walked out overnight; a new worker, afraid of being fired for negligence, failed to report her corpse missing and instead through some fireplace ash in a spare urn to report her cremated.

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Its okay if you cant catch your breath (you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50300137 by A_Monument_Of_Cloud Healing isn't a linear process. It's messy, frustrating, and often painful. Yet, within the chaos of grief, there are moments of connection, understanding, and love, if only you allow yourself to find them. Or, May’s death leaves Peter raw and vulnerable, grappling with loss and the difficult journey of moving forward when everything has changed. Tony is trying his best to help him, but sometimes he can’t help but feel he’s not what Peter really needs. Demigod!Peter AU Words: 11995, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of I am the sail, the plank, the mast that breaks (and gets replaced) Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Whump, Hurt Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, POV Tony Stark, POV Peter Parker, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark is trying his best, Demigod!Peter, Father-Son Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Adopted Child, Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Peter Parker Loves Tony Stark, Awesome Pepper Potts, Mentioned May Parker (Spider-Man), Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), son of athena Peter, Arguing, Secrets, I'm Sorry, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark Friendship (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), The Mist - Freeform read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50300137

[anythingeverythingm]

Day 5: Isabeau of Bavaria

Isabeau of Bavaria (also spelled Isabelle or Elisabeth)

Born: c. 1370 Died: September 1435

Parents: Stephen III of Bavaria-Ingolstadt and Taddea Visconti of Milan. Queen of France Children: Isabella, Queen of England Joan, Duchess of Brittany Marie, Prioress of Poissy Michelle, Duchess of Burgundy Louis, Dauphin of Viennois John, Dauphin of Viennois Catherine, Queen of England Charles VII of France

Isabeau was the only daughter of Duke Stephen III of Bavaria-Ingolstadt and Taddea Visconti of Milan and granddaughter of the Holy Roman Emperor Louis IV.

Isabeau was sent to France at the suggestion of her uncle to be considered a potential bride for Charles VI of France. The teenaer was prepared by her aunt, taught French customs and received french styled dresses. She went to France on the pretext of a pilgrimage. Her father refused for her to be examined in nude as it was customary at the time. Upon arriving in France she impressed despite not speaking French or meeting the beauty standards of the time, it is likely she had Italian features like her mother. Charles seemed smitten with her moving up the wedding. The two were married in 1285. Isabeau was 15/16 at the time. Charles lavished her with gifts and visited her at Château de Vincennes where she resided while he was on a military campaign against England.

The coronation of Isabeau took place on 23 August 1389 with a grand ceremony. The procession lasted the whole day.

Charles suffered from an illness that caused him moments of insanity. Often he asked for Isabeau to be removed as he did not recognise her. Isabeau was accused of abandoning him when she moved her residence to Hôtel Barbette. Charles was provided with a mistress by his advisors but in his moment of lucidity he exchanged letters and gifts with Isabeu. His illness continued until his death.

In the 1390s Isabeau was made the guardian of the Dauphin and the co-guardian of their children. She was responsible for the education and protection of their son. As Charles’s bouts of illness were more frequent Isabeau became the leader of the regency council.

As Isabeau sided with the king’s brother, Orléans, in the conflict between him and the burgundians rumors started to circulate that they were lovers. John the Fearless, the new Duke of Burgundy after his father’s death, raised an army and entered Paris. Isabeau and Orléans retreated to the fortified castle of Melun with the royal children, however John took possession of the Dauphin. The Duke of Berry, the Dauphin’s uncle, took control of the child. The fact that Charles was lucid for about a month also helped. Isabeau was tasked with mediating the dispute.

After Orléans' assassination, Isabeau’s concern was the safety of the Dauphin, going as far as to convince Charles to give his 13 year old son power in the absence of the queen. Isabeau created alliances and switched sides in order to protect the heir to the throne. A double marriage was arranged in 1409 in order to diffuse tensions between burgundians and Orléanists in which Isabeau clearly defined the family hierarchy and her role.

Despite her best effort to stop a civil war, in 1411 the Armagnac–Burgundian Civil War broke out. The dauphin, aged 15, did not have the power or a capable army to defeat John the Fearless. Isabeau allied herself with Charles of Orléans in 1414 instead of allowing her son, aged 18, to lead. The Dauphin changed sides. While the civil war continued, France suffered a blow from England at Agincourt in 1415. The Dauphin died in December 1415 leaving his 17 year old brother and burgundian supporter as heir. In 1417 the new heir died, the new Dauphin aged 14 was Isabeau's last son. He was a sympathizer of the Armagnacs. At the time Isabeau was imprisoned by Armagnac but was freed by the Duke of Burgundy. From that moment she supported the burgundians Treaty of Troyes in 1420.

At first, Isabeau was the sole regent but yielded her position to John the Fearless in January 1418. Together they took control of Paris and slaughtered the Armagnacs. The Dauphin fled the city. John was assassinated in a plot by Dauphin Charles. After the assassination he was disinherited.

By 1419 Henry V of England occupied most of Normandy. In 1420, in the absence of an heir, Isabeau accompanied King Charles to sign the Treaty of Troyes. Due to his illness, Isabeau signed the treaty. Their daughter, Catherine, went on to marry Henry V as part of the agreement.

Isabeau died in late September 1435 in Paris.

The accounts on her appearance are contradictory, some describing her as small and brunette others as tall and blonde. She spoke with a heavy German accent that made her stand out at the French court. She was a skilled diplomat, navigating court politics with ease. She interfed on several occasions on matters of great importance and foreign affairs. She mediated conflicts and was trusted by the king. Like most of the Valois, Isabeau had a fondness for art, loved jewelry and commissioned particularly beautiful pieces. She left many personal possessions and properties, in life and in her will, toNotre Dame, St. Denis, and the convent in Poissy. Isabeau was close with her children throughout their childhood and even after they were married. She kept them close to her, had them travel with her, bought them gifts and had her daughters educated.

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

Persistence of Vision

Wide eyed wonder at the drive-in.

Drive-in theatres are fondly remembered for providing teenagers with both a cover story (a trip to the movies) and a relatively private place (a car) for their furtive, mutual anatomical research. But they were also frequented by families with small children. I remember going to the drive-in to see family films when there were little babies in our family, and I was small myself. In particular I was very affected by seeing Bambi when I was 5 years old.

My brother Jo was still a small baby and provided his own vocal accompaniment from the front seat. Where he was attended to by my mother, already pregnant with next brother, Rob, who’d be along to help out with the yodeling chores in a few months. Despite the occasional noise, and being treated to moments of SENSE-AROUND when baby-bro had his underthings changed right there in front of me, I was very much engrossed in what was going on up on the screen.

Before the ages of video, DVD and streaming media, a drive-in theatre was where parents could see movies without having to feel self-conscious about their bawling kids. No need for a baby sitter for the tiny ones, just bring them along. Sealed off in your more or less soundproof bubble, you weren’t likely to bother the other patrons. They were probably families themselves. Or teenagers who had more pressing things (ie; the pressing of “things”) on their minds. But you could easily bother each other, cooped up in there during a double bill of Blue-Beard’s Ghost and Herbie the Love Bug. With all the bickering and crying and spilled drinks and whatnot, there was often as much tragedy and comedy and drama in the car as on the screen.

The death of Bambi’s mother affected me very deeply and I’m absolutely sure that I added my own blubbering to the general commotion within our car at that point. Parents sometimes like to shield their kids from such raw emotions, but this moment of tragedy is a big part of one of my most powerful early-childhood memories.

Apart from the inevitable tears, Bambi was about to affect me in perhaps an even more powerful way. It was while at the drive-in watching Bambi that I realised that this film was somehow different from other movies. IT WAS DRAWINGS. Moving and talking and seeming to be alive. And then seeming to be killed. Drawings making me feel both happy, and then sad.

The tears of anguish were barely even dry on my face before I started to wonder how this could be so. I could not grasp how it was possible for these drawings to be alive. It was a singular moment — I was both pulled into and popped out of the movie at the same time. Mum and Dad now had their hands full. Crying baby on the one hand and on the other, a 5-year-old who needed some answers. My parents did their best to explain the rudiments of the animation process, but it seemed completely unbelievable.

I wasn’t apt to take their explanations at face value either. I hadn’t forgotten them trying to dupe me with that Santa Claus nonsense, which I never believed for a moment, much to the great disappointment of Mum. You never knew what hokum grown-ups were going to pull next.

Dad took me to the back of the drive-in behind our car where, in the same building as the snack bar, there was a window allowing patrons to peek into the projection booth. This is one of those memories that is still vivid inside my head but I’m not sure if it actually happened at that moment in 1969. Instead, perhaps this impression formed over time, as the childhood-me began to understand the filmmaking process. Becoming attached to this real movie-watching memory retroactively? Memory is. not always as immutable as we would like to think.

However and whenever it got there, the memory I now see projected inside my head is of Dad lifting me up high enough to peer through a tiny observation window on the drive-in projection booth. He attempted to convey the truth of the animation process to me, as I watched a machine spool out a long shiny ribbon that passed through a ray of light. Sending a flickering beam out through the main window and onto the huge screen, in front of which our family car was parked, under the night sky.

I was told that there were thousands of hand-drawn little pictures on that strip of film and, through a process beyond my ability to comprehend, they looked alive when put through the projector, and light went through them.

Tiny drawings? ALIVE? How? What kind of magic was this? I’d always liked cartoons, but never thought about how they were made. Until this moment watching Bambi at the drive-in theatre in Hobart.

If I had thought about it at all, I probably thought that ALL films were documentaries and that the events on-screen were really happening (“Reality TV” in today’s parlance) but the realisation that this film was made of drawings made that an impossibility. Animation sounded like some kind of magic to me. Even if it wasn’t “real” magic, then it was clearly the next best thing.

The sense of wonder from that night stayed with me for quite some time. Certainly long enough to get me into the animation industry, and sustain me throughout my long career. I can still conjure up a ghost of those feelings of childhood awe at the man-made magic show even now, after working at studios all around the world for decades.

These days of course, people don’t go to drive-in movies. They just go ahead and take their tiny kids to the multiplex, or else watch whatever they like, and whenever they like, at home on groovy big-screen home entertainment centres, with thousands of channels and streaming video to choose from. But I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for drive-in movie theatres, because of formative memories made there, like this one.

First published on www.James-Baker.com

[randoauthor]

Love Letter's to No One (B.B)

Part Six: A Broken Heart. Again

Pairings: Rooster x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Mav x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, some swearing

Word Count: 2.1K

Author's Note: Okay I literally cried while writing this one so I hope you guys enjoy it, I think its a good way to say goodbye to Tom.

I cried at my mom's funeral.

I cried so hard my throat was raw and my eyes burned.

"Lem, we need to talk," was all dad had to say for me to break down into tears, I knew my uncle was sick, but he had told us he was getting better. I guess he thought that would save us some of the pain of him dying.

Bradley held my hand tight while dad told me exactly what I knew I was gonna hear. "I'm sorry sweetheart." Was all I comprehended before trying to get out of the hospital bed, both my dad and Bradley stopping me, trying to get me to lay down.

"Let go of me, I need to go see Aunt Sara." I say through tears, managing to stand for just a second before taking a few steps to cross the room to my things. "Someone needs to take me to see Aunt Sara." I say again, the boys sharing a cautious glance to each other before watching me as I attempt to get dressed, pulling out my IV in the process.

I wasn't watching them when a doctor entered the room to see what was going on, I didn't see them stop him from using restraints, I didn't see Bradley quickly walk over to me. I did, however, feel his arms wrap around me like a bear hug, letting me fall apart again.

"I know Lem, I know." He said calmly, "we will get you to your aunt but you need to let us check you quickly first." I gave a soft nod before the doctor came over to give me a quick once over before telling dad that I needed to take it easy but I was okay. The boys carefully helped me get dressed before we set off to my aunt house.

I knocked softly on the door, the boys waited by the car. Hearing a soft shuffle in what is probably a near empty house, the Kazansky's had children that were older than me and even a few with children themselves. While I don't think any of them moved very far away Tom and Sara were never able to sell the house that their children grew up in.

My heart grew heavy as Sara opened the door, breaking down into tears the moment she saw me, my face scratched from the events earlier today, my eyes red and bloodshot from crying. She pulled me into a tight hug peering behind me to see the boys at the car. Pulling away she gestures for them to come up to the house and they obliged, my dad gave her a soft smile before pulling her into a hug. Sara welcomed us into the home with a small smile. Bradley offered to make us some tea and I told Sara I'd show him the kitchen, allowing my dad to talk to her.

I took a deep breath before pushing the kitchen door open.

Uncle Tom gave me a soft smile as I flash him my braces filled smile. He gestures to the island allowing me to have a seat before giving me a glass of chocolate milk.

"Boy trouble?" He asked me softly gesturing to the clock which read 3:15 a.m. I nod softly.

"Lot's of trouble actually." I say sheepishly, the Kazansky's had taken me in at the request of my parents while they go to find the best doctor they could.

"Tell me about it kiddo," he said softly before grabbing another glass for chocolate milk.

"Mom's really sick," I start off, explaining just about everything that has happened since Bradley left. Uncle Tom listed carefully, sipping on his milk every now and then.

"I miss him Uncle Tom," I say softly, not even caring if the tears filled my eyes, he's seen me way worse off then I am right now.

"I know kiddo, I know." He moved from around the counter to give me a tight hug, I don't even try to hold my sobs back.

"Lem?" Bradley calls waving a hand in front of my face sapping me out of whatever trance I was in.

"Sorry," I say blinking back tears, "I have a lot of good memories in this kitchen." I say softly.

"She took her first steps in this kitchen," Dad said, breaking the silence between us. "She walked right to Tom, past her dad even." Sara said from behind him.

"That's it beautiful, come to dad!" Maverick excitedly said from the kitchen at the Kazansky's. The 14-month-old stared up at her father, her bright green eyes sparkled as she began to stand. Her first few steps remained wobbly but it wasn't her father she wanted, the little girl wobbled right past her parents and to her Uncle Tom, whose smile was just about as big as his face, his arms outstretched for his goddaughter. "Come here kiddo, come to Uncle Tommy." He said with an encouraging smile. The little girl outstretched her tiny arms before being scooped up by her uncle, dissolving into a pit of giggles as the adults around her cheer, she was the youngest off all of the children between the two families, she was the last one to walk in that kitchen.

I smile, my heart aching for Sara and the children, all of us having lost a great man but they lost a husband and father.

We stayed with Sara for a few more hours, Bradley and I taking some extra time to clean the house, the funeral was in two days time and I planned on doing everything I can to help out.

We exchanged hugs and sympathetic looks, promising to see her in two days. "Honey," she said softly, "do you wanna say a few words at the funeral?" I bit my lip and nodded. "I'll make him proud Sara," I say with a soft sniff, I feel her soft hand on my cheek, "you already have baby." I let a few tears fall as I hug her again.

Bradley held me close as we walk out the door and into the car, he holds my hand for the ride home, and then he stays with me while I cried myself to sleep.

I let the hot water run down my body as I leaned against the wall of the shower, Uncle Tom's funeral was today so I was up bright and early to get ready, my speech sat folded up on my old vanity. I give a soft sign before turning off the water and getting out.

I had began applying my makeup in a robe when a soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. Bradley popped his head in and gave me a warm smile.

"You doin okay Lem?" he asked before coming into the room, I nodded gently before continuing to do what minimal makeup I needed to look like I had actually gotten sleep.

"Can you help me Bradley?" I ask, gesturing to my dress that hung off the closet. He nodded, becoming quickly flustered as I took off my robe and, in a bra and underwear, walked over to the dress. I pulled it over my head attempting to be careful of my hair and makeup. Bradley walked over to me as I turned around allowing him to do my zipper, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my shoulder gently before allowing me to walk away to add jewelry and shoes to my outfit. Letting out a deep sigh I take Bradley's extended hand and we made our way to his truck. Dad had gone to collect Penny and her daughter Amelia.

The ride was silent, which I appreciate because I have done nothing but cry since we got home two nights ago and Bradley hadn't left his side.

The cemetery was packed by the time we got there, sailors in their dressiest uniforms, while all the other patrons wear black. Bradley carefully helped me out of the car. We had managed to find my dad and I gave a small smile to Penny which she returned. Bradley kissed my cheek softly and with a quick 'if you need anything I'll be right over there' before walking over to join his friends and fellow pilots while I sat between my Aunt Sara and dad.

I didn't realized how much people loved to talk until we were over three hours into the funeral and only four people had spoken. "And now," Admiral Simpson began, "Admiral Kazansky's niece, (y/n) Mitchell is going to share a few final words." Sara squeezed my hand reassuringly as I stood, fixed my dress, and walked up to the podium.

"Admiral Kazansky was known to many as Iceman, one of the greatest pilots this navy has ever seen." I took a deep breath. "But to me, he was Uncle Tom. The man who stayed up with me and let me complain about boys over a glass of chocolate milk, he is the man who I deemed to be great enough to be on the receiving end of my first steps. Uncle Tom and Aunt Sara took me in when my mother was sick, and then at the end of it all uncle Tom held me while I got the news that my mother had passed." I looked to my dad who had been crying all morning. "Uncle Tom was my best friend, he was the cause of so many amazing memories, like the time he took me up in a jet for the first time. He supported me when I joined the academy and while most people would have used his status to their advantage Uncle Tom made it very clear that I had paved this path on my own. He was my best friend, the person I went to for everything." I feel some tears falls. "He was my Uncle Tom. There will not be a day that goes by that I don't miss him terribly, but I will continue to do what I have been doing since the say I was born, I'm gonna make him proud."

I walk over to my dad take the wings off his uniform and walk over to the casket, I place a gentle hand on top of it and let out a sob before hammering it in with my fist. I wipe my tears and walk back to my seat sitting down, Sara pulls me into a side hug as I let a few more tears slip.

The funeral finished up shortly after and we all gathered at the Kazansky home, Bradley walked up to me placing a hand on the small of my back.

"Bradley?" I ask quitely.

"Hmm?" He hums a response looking out across the crowd.

"Take me away from here please." I say softly, Bradley nodded before taking my hand and leading me out of the house.

"Where do you wanna go beautiful?" He asked softly, "the ocean." I reply before climbing into the car and staring out the window.

Bradley nodded sadly before pulling away from the home, leading me to a near empty beach. I climb out of the car and take my heels off. Letting the sand hit my feet felt refreshing and a took off for the ocean, not even bothering if my hair gets messed up or my makeup run, I honestly don't even give a shit if my dress gets ruined, I just want to be in the water. Bradley comes chasing after me shortly after I take off, having removed most of his uniform so that it doesn't get ruined.

He grabbed my waist and pulled me close to him as I screamed and kicked the water out of frustration. "Shhhh beautiful, I know, I know." He said into me, letting my get it out but not allowing me to go any further into the water.

We stand there for a few moments more before the wind finally gets to me and I begin to shiver. He leads me out of the water and back to his truck, finding a towel somewhere in the bed of the truck, he wrapped it around me. I lean in slightly, bringing my face closer to his and when I realize he hasn't pulled away I let our lips meet but just for a second before he pulls away.

"You're hurting Lem, I don't want to take advantage of you." He said softly, looking between me and my lips.

"You aren't, to me you feel like home." I reply, and that must have pushed him over he edge enough to pull me in for another kiss, this one longer, more tender.

Bradley Bradshaw feels like home.

And somewhere out in the great big universe, Uncle Tom was smiling at me.

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[sissa-arrows]

Happy Independence Day to my beloved Algeria.

Allah yarham chouhada.

Translation of the testimony of a man who lived through that day as a child.

“July 5th 1962: The independence of Algeria. What can I say: the joy in the streets, people colonized for 132 years gaining back their freedom… I was a kid of the Casbah, I was 12 back then. The moment was crazy and filled with euphoria. The French of Algeria (colonizers) had started to leave in May and they were leaving faster now. For them it was “A coffin or a suitcase”(1). They didn’t see it any other way. Bab El Oued, Michelet street and Isly street(2) were emptied of their residents. During the last days, they were panicking. The “yes” had gotten 99,72% to the referendum of July 1st, the first loyal voting process in 132 years(3).

For at least 10 days, Algiers wasn’t a city anymore but an endless party. Women were not talking anymore we only heard their zagharit(4) all day long. Children were children again. The older ones too. There was a sort of happy anarchy. It was a permanent happiness, an event I will never forget even if I was to lose my mind. After the constant persecutions, the constant fear and nightmares, it was like a divine revelation and a new birth.

They (the French colonizers) called us Muslims, Arabs, savages(5) but never Algerians. The Arabs who were barbaric, lazy and filled with excessive pride. The contempt from the Europeans and the humiliations made the Algerian into a bad guy, a rebel, a revolutionary filled with the desire for freedom and justice.

Being able to live without that fear, imagining that we were able to move freely, screaming our joy without having to justify ourselves it was something unheard of, it was almost unbelievable. They forbade us to be Algerians, strangers in our own land, us the b****, t**** d* f******, r*****, c********, s*****, b*********, (6) subhumans, on that day everything was allowed everything seemed possible.”

[…]

“The biggest joy was the return of my two brothers. They came back home alive and safe, in a free country after having be jailed in Serkadji and condemned to the death penalty.

During their absence, weapons and money was hidden under my parents’ bed. I always had a gun hidden in my school bag.

[…]

With armed friends we went in the European neighborhood, on the cars’ hoods, screaming happily “Tahia El Djazair” (long live to Algeria).

I actually hurt myself falling from a truck in Lyre street. July 5th 1962 will stay for me an unforgettable party. The historical festive atmosphere, cemented in my memory. Even with my mouth filled with blood and two broken tooth.”

Notes:

1: There a myth that the colonizers were threatened. There was some well deserved threats toward the ones who fought against the independence. The other ones were allowed to stay ONLY if they took the Algerian citizenship and considered Algerians as their equals. But they refused and left. They saw staying in Algeria with indigenous Algerians being equal to them as death.

2: The places named here were famous for having a very important population of colonizers. And like all colonizers they were very violent.

3: At the end of the war and to try to calm down the French colonizers a referendum for the independence of Algeria was organized. It was the first and only time all Algerians (actual Algerians) were allowed to vote and their vote were equal to white people’s vote.

4: He uses the word “Indigenes” which means indigenous or native but the French didn’t use it as a way to acknowledge we were indigenous to the land unlike them they used it a synonym for savage so that’s how I’m translating it.

5: zagharit are happy ululation we make during moments of happiness and joy (talking for Algeria specifically other SWANA countries do it for other reasons too).

6: Those are all anti Algerian slurs… when I say that France hates us. Who the fuck has that many slurs for ONE group of people only?! And they are not all on the list…