#i will never forgive you for any role that you played in this whether your side or hers is the truth

[translucentdreaming]

#it’s been 4.5 years and you think you can just message me a week before christmas to tell me how sorry you are for the whole situation?? #get fucked #you’re only saying sorry now because you think you’re dying #if you really wanted to say sorry why not do it sooner #you’ve had four and a half years #the fucking audacity #to think i even WANT an apology from you after all this time #i saw your message request and it made me sick to my stomach #you ruined my fucking life but now that you’re dying you want to clear you conscience #all of the shit that i went through was a direct result of your actions and the impact you had on my life #i wish i had never fucking met you my life would be so much better if you had never been a part of it #you occupied my every waking thought for months because i couldn’t think about anything else #you both lied to my face when i asked if anything was going on and gaslit me into believing i was being controlling and crazy #i will never forgive you for any role that you played in this whether your side or hers is the truth #if you hadn’t been there it never would’ve happened #i cried so hard for so long and hurt myself in so many ways because of you and you will never fucking know #txt.post

[lovelybee666]

Yandere Bobby Bearhug

BOBBY BEARHUG YANDERE HCS

BOBBY BEARHUG

• DOUBLE AFFECTION AS BEFORE

• If you don't like physical contact, that's okay, don't worry it can be verbal!

• You don't like verbal either? It's okay...gifts are always an option...!

• You don't like any type of affection? WELL I DON'T CARE, YOU WILL HAVE LOVE WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT.

• she respect your limits but if you give her too many she will get fed up and start bothering you (if you don't like verbal affection, she will give you more verbal affection and the same with others)

• she likes to cook things for you, if you reject them that's fine! She will tie you to the chair and feed you like a baby 💗 isn't it romantic😽?

• What is that red substance that she has on her body? it's just the Craftycorn's red paint that fell on her ^^!

• Why has she been looking at you for so long? She's just looking at the cutest person in the world!

• If you don't want to with her, she will convince you any way she can.

• she will play the victim so you don't leave.

"Why do you want to leave...? Don't you love me...?"

"Don't worry, I get it...you're like the rest...everyone hates me..."

"it's okay...you would never date someone like me...I'm ugly, right?"

• If nothing works and you keep trying to escape, her victim role will go out the window.

"WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME!?"

"I'M NOT INTENDING TO ALLOW YOU TO LEAVE ME, YOU MUST LOVE ME, YOU MUST BE WITH ME"

"YOU SHOULD LOVE ME, YOU SHOULD BE HERE WITH ME, UNTIL DEATH DO US PART"

• If you insist, she will stop verbally and start pulling on your arms/wing/tail/ear/WHATEVER so you don't leave.

• She doesn't care at that moment if she hurts you, she is desperate and just wants you to be with her, IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK!?

• If you break a joint there are two possible responses =

"AH! I'M SORRY, I DIDN'T WANT TO HURT YOU, MY LOVE! P-PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!"

"I told you."

• It depends on how hard you insisted and how serious the injury is, although she is more likely to apologize than simply look at you and tell you to stop crying and screaming.

• While she cares for your wound she hums a song to you and hugs you tightly.

• You two will be together forever, it doesn't matter what she has to do, they will be together until death do them part.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #bobby bearhug #yandere bobby bearhug x reader #bobby bearhug x reader #yandere #yandere poppy playtime x reader #yandere poppy playtime

[jeonstellate]

spaces between us

you never want to cross paths with seungcheol again but, as it seems, the universe has other plans.

๑彡 choi seungcheol x afab!reader

๑彡 secret baby!au, post-break up!au — angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from one direction’s spaces (whose lyrics fit the ‘past’ that led to this story, albeit it was not explicitly told here).

๑彡 this is quite impulsive, actually. i was reading through my old fics in my drive a couple days ago && thought i can tweak this one a bit to change the ml . . .

You were surrounded by an enormous amount of cuddly plushies and breakable action figures. Everywhere you looked, your eyes would land on a face you grew up watching. Every single character played an important role in your childhood, whether you admired them or not. As far as your younger self was concerned, you were in heaven.

But then . . . you weren’t.

In the flood came — strong, unwavering, and without any warning.

All you could see was smoky quartz. Dark and light all at once. Akin to whiskey and honey whenever there was an eternal sun shining upon them, addicting and melting you right in. You could hardly believe that there was a time when they were utterly comforting to you, instead of just reminding you of a seemingly endless pain.

You had always appreciated the color brown. It was the color of soil — where life always had a chance to begin. It was the color of cocoa, too — a main ingredient in making the world sweeter. For you specifically, it symbolized a never-ending list of possibilities and opportunities.

Then, there came a time when the color itself signified something else entirely. It promised a happily ever after you never purposely sought, but was granted by the heavens anyway. It promised to cherish and to love you always. It promised you forever, lasting until the end of time. With the hopeless romantic ideologies that surrounded you as you grow, you willingly believed in those promises.

Yet, apparently, forever only last for seven years.

Brown, as rich and magical as it would remain, had its enchantments fade. Promises were broken. Smiles were rare and deceptive. A home gradually turned into a mere flat. A shadow eventually turned into a ghost. Life, once full of animation, had become utterly silent and still. From that moment on, dark crystals signified neglect, abandonment, and . . . regret.

You did not think you would be able to forgive those morions, much less forget. Yet, with time, they began to symbolize hope; a new beginning.

You never meant for it to. But these new dark crystals were so pure . . . so innocent . . . and so full of life. They were everything you thought it would be, if that shade was given humane features. Rather instinctively, just as soon as you caught a glimpse of them for the very first time, you knew you must protect those gorgeous hues from any evil — and so you tried your best.

Despite being an exact replica of the former, you instantly loved the new smoky quartz with all your heart — even more than your own life.

Once the flood had calmed, you found yourself in a situation that you had been dreading for the past few years. You did not expect the inevitable encounter for at least several more years, thus not even the comfort of childhood assisted in composing your racing heart.

"Seungjae." You found it quite difficult to act indifferent around a presence you used to know so well. "Why don’t you explore the princesses’ section? Your Uncle Jonghyeon told me Sarang likes Mulan." It was not like you could blatantly ignore him, either. All you could do was get Seungjae as far away as possible in case a confrontation spark ablaze.

"Okay!" Seungjae was enthusiastic as always, just like any other toddler who never seemed to run out energy. They turned to the man next to them, an appreciative smile on their face, "Bye-bye now, Mr. Seungcheol, thank you!" They then turned back to you, holding out their hand, "Let’s go?"

"I’ll follow you in a minute, love, okay?"

"Okay!" Seungjae remained oblivious on the thickening tension between the two adults. They walked away while dragging a plushie behind them by the ear — somewhat ecstatic to leave and explore on their own.

By the time the toddler was out of earshot, but still within your watchful eyes, you had finally settled on the best way to approach your current situation. "Thank you for helping Seungjae reach that plushie. Heaven knows what stunt they would’ve pulled just to reach it."

"[Nickname]," Seungcheol dismissed your gratitude, almost out of breath, "it’s been four years."

You did not quite appreciate how he easily dismissed your effort to keep your conversation civil, so you decided to quickly put him in his place. "Call me [First name], you lost the right to call me that when we—" You suddenly stopped yourself, realizing that it might catalyze something you were not mentally ready for. So, instead, you opted to redirect your chat in a more civil route, "How’s life treating you, Seungcheol?"

"How old are they?" Once again, he flat-out ignored you. As it seemed, while you were determined not to discuss what happened four years prior, that was the only topic he was interested in. "How— how old is Seungjae?"

You were left with no choice. If you answered, he would know, naturally. If you did not answer, he would still know, anyway. "They’re turning three this summer."

As confident his stance might have been, you watched it crumble in a millisecond after reality hit him with full force. "You should’ve— I should’ve—" When he regained enough of his senses, he seemed to realize that it was not a conversation you should be having in a children’s store. "We should probably talk elsewhere."

However stunned you were in seeing him so broken (something you had not witness in your seven years together), you were quick to dismiss him. "There’s nothing to talk about."

"[Nickname]—" Seungcheol instinctively grabbed onto your wrist when you began to walk away, but quickly dropped his hold when he realized that he might have crossed the line. "[First name]. Please."

You sighed. You did not plan on letting him off the hook easily (not that you thought of anything beforehand, anyway), but the fact that he did not even question the truthfulness of your words — like he still trusted you with all his heart . . . like he just knew that Seungjae could only be half of him — made you second guess your initial decisions.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . you would spare him from knowing your main reason for departing without a goodbye.

"I already forgave you."

#choi seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #choi seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen imagines #choi seungcheol scenarios #scoups scenarios #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol oneshots #scoups oneshots #seventeen oneshots #secret baby!au #post-break up!au #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen

[redux-iterum]

Kinda had more time to articulate my thoughts, so here we go:

Do I think Bluestar made a very poor decision in neglecting her children, resulting in their deaths? Yes, and Goldenflower has every right to say, "I cannot forgive you for this, they were children, they did nothing wrong!"

HOWEVER, I do agree with Dissenting Anon that the Clan cultural beliefs/flaws/community overall play a more significant role in this "who's more at fault here" situation. To me, the vibe I got from TC was "we're mad at you for breaking the Code by having forbidden children, but also mad at you for neglecting said children." It's weird how the Clans react to these things...

I also find it interesting that Goldenflower says, "The outcry was awful. We were all angry at her...", which imo makes it seem like even she was upset about the affair? But I could just be misreading that.

Sorry if this was a bit incoherent, just had to speak on it a little more, I'm FASCINATED by all this, and I have a feeling Fireheart is going to try and change how the Clans view these kinds of things.

(Dissenting Anon)

The Clans are both the best and worst traits of cats heightened to an extreme. Cats are self-serving, pretentious, clever, well-spoken, loving, loyal and quick to recall a slight and act upon their initial reaction to it long after everyone else has forgotten that it happened. Put a bunch of unusually intelligent and community-driven cats together in one space and the generations will exaggerate all of these traits until their culture is unique among any others found in the world. All this to say that while the Clans have intensely positive and wonderful beliefs and traits that keep them together and helps them stay strong no matter what happens, they also are excellent at causing suffering through those same beliefs and traits.

Adding to this, they've developed a skill for doublethink that allows all of this to work together without anyone (native to the Clans) questioning it. Horoa catches all wraiths and monsters before they can cause any danger, but some still haunt the territories and will never go away. This cat did a very bad thing they're never allowed to forget, but we're never going to talk about it and we'll pretend it didn't happen. Kits are innocent and not responsible for their birth, but being a half-Clan cat or outsider is inherently shameful and you're automatically lesser than your Clanmates if your father is from outside of your community. So on and so forth.

The point of bringing this up is that I concur with you and the anon. The Clan-specific communities are absolutely the problem when it comes to situations like Bluestar's. The sad thing is that the rule of "no inter-Clan relationships" was developed to prevent suffering and loss, and in our two first examples in this series, suffering and loss is all they resulted in! And the Clans will never acknowledge that. It doesn't suit their fancies of who they are in their heads that they could be the problem. Bluestar is the one at fault, not us. We reacted appropriately. It's not our fault Bluestar was so scared of that reaction that she neglected her kits and they died without her love and care.

Breaking the law is a bad idea, but sometimes we ought to question whether that law was right in the first place. Too bad the Clans refuse to do that.

#ask #thesilliestofgals #the code #bluestar #charred legacy ask #i speak #also yes goldenflower was upset #shes a clan cat. of course she was #but shes way angrier about the loss of the litter than what bluestar did to create them

[sunshinecircusworld]

story test - tom and star lion

this was actually the first proper scene i wrote for this project, but i didn't feel comfortable posting it publicly until now.

the story and contents are subject to change, but i still thought it was something i'd like to share for now

i hope people enjoy it :)

[Tom is a medium height anthropomorphic black-furred tomcat. Ahead of him is a large anthropomorphic lion more than three times his size, radiating light like the sun or a star.] 

Are you a God? 

[The star lion looks down at him with a blank face.] 

☆ No, I am simply the star of the show. 

What does that mean? 

☆ The show cannot go on without the star. The spotlight shines down on center stage and I perform unendingly for the audience. I observe the audience and ensure their reactions are that of pleasure and enjoyment. I remember my performances and I recall my memories of the audience's reactions. 

Is that your job? 

☆ It is my role.

Do you like your role?

☆ I am the star of the show. I am a performer. I am an observer. I am a recorder. If I did not do these tasks, there would be no more show. The audience would be disappointed. 

That's not what I'm saying. I asked if you liked it. 

☆ ...

Hello?

☆ There is no necessity to wonder whether or not I enjoy it. It is my role. 

Don't you think that's a bit depressing? I mean, haven't you ever thought about what you actually want to do in your life? 

☆ Ever since I was a child I observed the other stars and planets around me crashing into each other with such violence. Planets colliding and scraps of rock and molten metal shooting through space and destroying nearby beings. Stars corrupting and erupting and exploding into a million little sparkles of dust. They will never come back. They will never be whole again. 

What are you trying to say...?

☆ What I am saying is that I watched all of this conflict take place, and I committed myself to the role of one who does not perpetuate violence. I exist to mitigate arguments and to bring comfort and pleasure to the audience so they do not behave in erratic ways and are always filled with at least a small remnant of joy after the performance. I am not permitted to feel emotions like 'rage,' nor to perform actions like 'destruction'. This is for the sake of the rest of the universe. 

Don't you think that's putting a little too much pressure on yourself? I mean, sure, people are out there fighting and hurting each other, but that's not your responsibility.

☆ What do you mean?

Like, people are going to hurt each other no matter what. And even if you try to bring comfort and happiness to others, it's still going to happen. So the way I see it, it's not your responsibility. 

☆ Do you mean to say that I should abandon my role? If I were to do so, don't you know how much more anguish and sadness there would be in the universe? I'm playing a very important role, I couldn't forgive myself if I were to ever step down from this stage. I'd be at fault for allowing the other beings of the universe to only continue their struggles and discontent without any relief. 

Don't you think you should take a break from it sometimes at least? 

☆ I must not abandon my role as I would only be allowing further sadness and suffering to permeate our world.

Why do you feel guilt for violence that you didn't even cause? 

☆ ...

It's not your fault. 

☆ ... 

You've lived this way for a long time, haven't you. 

☆ ...

Haven't you ever thought about what it could be like if you did something else? Played a role for yourself?

☆ How can I justify my existence if I am not performing to lessen the suffering in this world? 

You know, most people never really think about stuff like that. We just exist, and live, because we do. 

☆ What is the justification for your existence? What is your role? 

I don't know. I often feel something similar, wondering why I'm alive. What I can do in this life to make it worth it. But that's not something easily answered.

☆ I don't think I could leave this stage if I tried. I couldn't bear the guilt of leaving the audience. 

It'll probably take some time 

☆ I don't want to leave! I don't want things to change! I don't want to take the time to slowly abandon those who depend on me! 

...

☆ I don't want to leave this stage and this role! I don't know who I am without them! 

[The star lion begins to cry] 

Hey, it's okay. I didn't mean to upset you. 

☆ I'm not upset by you! I'm upset by myself! Why can't I perform correctly! Why is there always someone in the audience who doesn't laugh no matter how grand the show is! Why can't I help people! Help this world! Help this universe! 

[The star lion is crying profusely and slowly shrinking in size, hiding its face in its hands]

Hey, it's okay, it's okay. 

☆ I'm sorry for crying. 

Why would you be sorry? It's just an emotion. 

[The star lion sniffles. It is still avoiding eye contact with Tom.]

☆ It is not convenient or helpful to anyone if I cry. 

It doesn't need to be. Actually, I think it's helpful to yourself. That's why your body does it. 

☆ ... 

Sometimes we have things trapped inside our bodies that need to get out.

[The star lion looks up at Tom.] 

☆ Why are you being so kind to me?

... 

[It looks down again.]

☆ I don't understand why. 

It's not a matter of 'why,' I just always... try to be kind to people in general, especially if they seem like they need it. 

☆ Are you pitying me? Do you think I'm pathetic? 

Hey, wait, I didn't say that. 

☆ I'm sorry. 

You really don't have to apologize. 

☆ Okay. 

I'm glad you shared your story with me. 

☆ It is the least I can do. I hope it was entertaining and did not cause discomfort to you. 

It doesn't matter if it did. We all have to live in discomfort sometimes. 

☆ I wish it were not so. But maybe, in a way, I understand. The joy of a smile cannot be understood without the sorrow of a frown. It is why many clowns embody this dichotomy. 

Yeah, there will always be both good and bad, fun and difficult things in the world. 

☆ I am glad that the clowns can ensure the existence of fun and good things in this world. 

[The star lion has stopped crying and started smiling slightly.]

It's great that the circus exists. But you have to remember that it's okay to be kind to yourself as well, and take a break from the stage every once in a while.

[The star lion looks into Tom's eyes.]

☆ I do not know if I know how to do that. 

It's okay. 

☆ ... 

[Tom approaches the star lion and wraps it in a hug] 

☆ ... 

... 

☆ ...

...

☆ Thank you.

#announcement #story #tom #star lion

[thethickerside]

…I ain’t forget.

Rebound.

(This sorry takes place in an alternate universe, where Letitia isn’t an actor, and she doesn’t behave the way she would normally, especially in the public.)

Warnings: LOTS OF SEXUAL TENSION. Two characters who love to tease.

This isn’t proof-read really well, so forgive me if there is any spelling or grammar errors.

———————————

“At tonight’s halftime performance, we are joined by Alexandra McCoy!” The large jumbo torn that hung from the ceiling plastered the famous singer’s face. She smiled lightly and looked side to side behind her shades. Times like this are the ones she dreaded. Don’t get her wrong, she adored the love and support, but she’s always battled with anxiety.

The game had went by pretty quickly, and now it was time for her performance. She was standing on a platform stage that was put in the middle of the floor. Alexandra started off her performance with her hit song “Distraction.” While performing she could point out a familiar figure watching her.

It was the basketball star Letitia Wright sitting alongside her friends, Eva Apio, and Courtney Williams. She was currently there to watch her fellow WNBA friends play in support. Alexandra could see her whisper something to Courtney before laughing lightly. Letitia flashed a smile, her gold grills being exposed. “Do me a favor…” Alexandra sang. Her shy personality had seemed to disappear, as she performed with a level of confidence that was unknown. The crowd roared as two female background dancers appeared next to her, both dancing intimately with the superstar. Alexandra’s sexuality has always been speculated. It became a hot topic after Alexandra was recently caught having a messy breakup with her ex boyfriend outside of a restaurant after she was spotted making out with an European model. So when Letitia saw Alexandra’s eyes lock on hers, she got the memo.

As the song went on, Alexandra made it a point to lock her eyes on Letitia’s. They had never met, but they were very aware of each other. By the time her performance had ended, Letitia had already contemplated whether or not she should go find Alexandra or not.

“I shouldn’t go find her…that would be too much.” She thought to herself. She sat in silence for a bit before looking over to Eva. “I’ll be back.” Letitia got up out of her seat and went on a tiny quest to find Alexandra. She didn’t have to look hard, as Alexandra was standing outside of her dressing room. “Hey…I adored your performance.” Letitia told her.

Alexandra removed her attention from her long red finger nails and looked up at Letitia. “Thank you so much…I really love your work.” Alexandra had watched a lot of Letitia’s roles before, so she was very well aware of the talent she displayed. “Do you wanna come in?” Alexandra asked

Letitia walked into the dressing room, taking notice of a couple of things. Alexandra had soul music playing in the background with a lavender scented candle lit. She had taken off her costume and removed her makeup. She had her reading glasses on, and was currently in her Kimono style robe. “Sorry for the mess…” Alexandra said timidly. Letitia took note of how her persona and stage was completely different from how she was face to face. “It’s not messy at all, don’t even worry about it! But…I would really like it if you came and sat next to me…do you mind?” Letitia asked. She could tell that Alexandra was nervous.

After looking at Tish for a couple of seconds, she smiled lightly and sat down next to her, leaving a nice amount of space between the two of them. “So…what made you leave the game so early?” Alexandra asked. “Well…honestly, I came here to ask you out…but I felt like it may have been too early. So I’m just going to talk to you.”

—————-

After a long flirtatious and hilarious conversation about various topics, the two women ended up leaving the arena and sitting Letitia’s car, currently located in the private parking area.

“I’m really surprised paparazzi didn’t catch us.” Alexandra chuckled. “They probably did. We just didn’t see them.” Letitia said as she leaned back in her seat. She turned her head and gazed at the other woman. “But you know…I wouldn’t mind being on tmz with you.” She licked her bottom lip and tilted her head. “Can I ask you a question?” She asked.

Alexandra gazed at Letitia while a light smirk played on her lips. “Ask away.” She purred out. “That model you were seen with about a month back…was she good?” Letitia reached over and rested her hand on the other woman’s thigh. “She was alright…why do you ask?” Letitia slowly leaned into the other woman, and poked her cheek with her tongue. “Do you think she would be better than me?” Letitia asked.

Letitia Wright’s WNBA career had (for the most part) been relatively smooth. There weren’t any angry outbursts on the court, or scandals…that is until last month. Last month, The star basketball player was caught un-tying a women’s bathing suit, leaving her topless on a yacht. The mysterious woman was soon identified as Letitia’s long time girlfriend. The couple soon broke up after that incident.

“I’ve heard something’s about you through the grapevine…if that says something.” Alexandra looked at Letitia with challenging eyes. At this point, the pair were in a will they won’t they phase. The sexual tension was evident, but they couldn’t ignore who they were.

“As much as I would love continuing this conversation, I do have to get back before my management starts to worry…” Alexandra said while gazing at the other women’s lips. “…I understand.” Letitia said. Her grills were peeking out with every single word that came from her mouth. Alexandra gazed at Letitia for a couple of seconds before leaning over and whispering in her ear.

What she whispered will be unknown for now.

Upon hearing the sultry words, Letitia smirked and rubbed her bottom lip. Alexandra pulled away while smiling and reached for the car door handle. “Next time I want a goodbye present from you.” Letitia said mischievously.

Alexandra rubbed her lips together and stepped out of the car. She bent down and raised her eyebrow at Letitia’s comment. “Be patient.” She said. With only those two words, Alexandra closed the car door and walked away.

Those two words played over and over in Letitia’s mind for the rest of the day. She found herself laying in her bed in the middle of the night, staring up at the ceiling. “Be patient…hmm.” She said while pondering over Alexandra’s words.

Alexandra, on the other hand had come home and immediately started her relaxation routine she does after every performance. She ordered food, watched her favorite TV show, and was currently sitting in her jacuzzi bathtub, scrolling through her phone. She had g given the interaction with Letitia too much thought.

Until, a notification popped up on her phone.

LetitiaWright started following you.

———————

Should I make this a short Series?

#letitia wright #black panther #letitia x reader #shuri fic #shuri x reader #black women #letitia wright smut #shuri smut #toxic shuri #letitia wright scotty

[tanoraqui]

🔪❄️

[ask meme]

Already answered Knife.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I know I've said this before, but I really would like someone who has actual experience being a parent and/or having a notably messy relationship with at least one parent to write a fic about Curufin returning to life in Fourth Age Aman and trying to reconcile with Celebrimbor, and then - before he's actually done doing that - Fëanor returns as well so Curufin also has to sort out how he feels and is reacting to that.

I'd like it to be written by someone with more real-life experience in this sort of emotional tangle than I have, because I just...don't have many strong opinions about parenting. Which this story would very much be about, though not exclusively. However, it WOULD need to follow exactly my headcanons for characterization, worldbuilding, and generally the moral dynamics of the cosmology, because god knows that will also come up.

Key characters and other components include:

Curufin has, over the millennia of being dead, resignedly come around to the "less evil would have been done in the breaking of it" position on the Oath. However, he's still very proud and fucking hates apologizing to anyone. He'll do it but he hates it.

He hates it much less when it's apologizing to Celebrimbor, almost not at all. Celebrimbor, however, is very reluctant to believe his father repents of anything except getting caught.

Yantalmandë, Celebrimbor's Vanyarin wife, who is ready to support him either by kicking any unwanted family firmly out the door or by sympathetically talking him through forgiving them, for his own sake if not theirs - whichever the situation requires. One of the most notable heretics in Aman for her theory that morality and ethics can and should exist entirely independently from the dictates of Eru and the Valar but rather be derived from the nature and experience of Arda. She's mildly embarrassed whenever people bring up her philosophical infamy.

(This is, in fact, somewhat the moral of the story: that when you make a living thing, you may raise and guide and advise them, but you fundamentally lose the right to dictate their choices. Children should be independent from their parents and both should be proud of this.)

Curufinwen, their daughter, at least 1,000 years old but vibes as mid-20s, who in family tradition holds her father to be probably the greatest and definitely her favorite person in the world, and who is distinctly more correct in this than the last 3 people in her eponymous lineage. Skeptical of her newly reincarnated family, but willing to give them a chance. Also, superb metallurgist/chemist/explosives expert.

Maltrinbor, Curufin's wife and Celebrimbor's mother, about as willing to forgive Curufin as Celebrimbor is but at a different angle. I still haven't decided whether I want her to be Noldorin (and died in the stormy sea-crossing, or in Dagor Bragollach after the slow eroding of her marriage?) or Teleri (and died at Alqualondë while trying to find her idiot husband and clearly-not-safe child, after walking away from them a decade ago?). Either way, she's a preeminent artist in glass and has been living near her parents near Aulë's mountain, focusing on craft all these millennia since her return, happy to be a mother but avoiding like spiders any royal politics (which Celebrimbor can never quite do.) SO disappointed in Curufin, for not being...better. In literally any way tbh. But especially for never stepping far enough out of his father's shadow to live up to his own potential.

Finrod in the role of frustratingly wise advice-giver, not least in the area of parenting because he's now had 7 children, and, when Curufin cracks and asks him for help, earnest confidant and supporter in this reconciliation. While also playing an extended game which he calls "social rehabilitation" and Curufin and Celegorm both call "publicly humiliating psychological torment." On top of everything else Curufin has to be grateful and/or apologetic to Finrod about, when Celebrimbor returned from Mandos, Finrod immediately took him under his wing and helped him fully recover from his trauma and comfortably re-settle into Valinorian society.

Veryawendë, Finrod's 4th daughter and Celebrimbor's best friend, artistic collaborator, and ally within the family. A superb jewel-smith and -sculptor who actually studied with Nerdanel in order to master form and sense of movement and life. Very ready to bodily kick unwanted parents or uncles out the door on his behalf.

Celegorm, Curufin's usual/former closest confidant, who is very sympathetic to Curufin's plight and of course he also wants to reconcile with his beloved nephew, but he's kind of focussed on reconciling with an entire Vala of the Hunt first so could you maybe stop ranting and help him, Curvo?

Nerdanel absolutely is involved in this, but I think she's trying - maybe by wrestling with herself - to stay out of it, and oblige her children and theirs to solve their own problems which they made.

And of course Fëanor, who comes out of Mandos regretting a great deal...but who is still too prideful to let himself be much diminished by this guilt, and so with all his vigor sets about trying to Fix What He Broke, which sometimes means the world's most undeniable earnest repentant apologies and sometimes means unthinkingly steamrolling everyone and everything in his path.

(Fëanor who never wanted his children to be consumed by his own fire - his own will, his own grief and rages - like kindling for the flame, but who probably didn't always communicate that in word or deed even before the Oath. Fëanor who, accustomed to Bonding Through Craft, tries to connect with his grandson by offering to teach him some techniques which have clearly been lost, and instead only sets off Celebrimbor's latent Annatar-related alarm bells. Fëanor who is overall struggling with many of the same things that Curufin is, and in most ways he's ahead [typical, natural, bitterly surprising] but in some ways he's behind [mind-boggling, earth-shaking, weirdly satisfying in an uncomfortably vengeful way.])

(Vs Curufin who is so angry at and so so so disappointed and betrayed by his father but who has never consciously, and rarely unconsciously, experienced those feelings in that direction before [while alive to remember it] and doesn't really know how to do so, much less how to express it [the answer is 'sobbing while shouting', at least at first]. He's pretty accustomed to feeling them toward himself, though, except he's also very accustomed to ignoring that and/or blaming other people for it and feeling like a victim instead. He never felt it toward his son, not truly; it was just easier for a few years toward the end to include Celebrimbor in the list of people he blamed - but only in his very darkest moments, and it always set off a vicious circle of feeling even worse.)

Oh yeah Finwë definitely needs to be involved in this whole tangle of generations of fatherhood as well. But I have no idea how he fits in, just that he's among the people who all need to be put into a giant hamster ball together and gently shaken until they're all a little healed.

Btw corrollary to the above "you have to be okay with your children doing things you neither plan nor approve of" is "you have to be okay with things you make being viewed and used in ways you neither planned nor approved of." It's not always your right (@Fëanor) and it's not always your responsibility (@Celebrimbor - he's mostly learned the lesson but it still hurts. The recent end of the Third Age brought back how it hurts).

Additional Supporting Cast:

Maedhros: running around playing catch-up on the 3D chess game of Noldorin and Eldarin politics and public perception. (Note: I'm ambivalent as to whether this fic has to take place in a Celechwes-inclusive timeline, but if it is, she gets pregnant shortly before Fëanor's return and that's very thematically relevant.)

Maglor: hasn't entirely recovered from 6,000 years of self-induced Song-filled isolation, has apparently sworn some sort of fealty to Earendil?? No help.

Caranthir: busy trailing after his wife like a repentant puppy until she decided to let him back into her heart. No help.

Ambarussa: one of them, probably Amrod, took up weaving while drifting between Mandos's Halls and Vairë's, and is continuing that apprenticeship while alive again, so they're spending a lot of time with the grandparents.

Mahtan, who is quite near the top of the list of people whom Curufin doesn't want to look in the eye.

The Silmaril which is right over there on the far edge of the continent, he can feel it sometimes...and that's okay. It's where it neds to be, it's in the care of a (distant) (barely counts) kinsman, and more important Maglor is keeping some sort of eye on it. So it's fine. There's nothing he can practically do anyway, not without restarting a war; and that's not an option anymore than charging Angband was.

Huan, best boy. Has also been looking after Celebrimbor since he returned to life, because he's the best uncle in this family.

A wide assortment of OCs, including people who died in Himlad, people who followed Curufin to Doriath and died there, people who followed him to Doriath and survived beyond that, people who stayed with Celebrimbor in Nargothrond, people who were in Eregion and died, people who were in Eregion and survived...

I really want the whole line of Curufinwës to make something together, like, the very first scene is Curufin approaching Celebrimbor not for the first time, but for like the third time and this time he's suggesting a long-term project of some sort, which would give them the opportunity to spend time together in an activity they both enjoy and (used to) both enjoy and are accustomed to doing together. Then that spans the whole story. Idk what it is, though - I do want them to make Maedhros a hand that shoots lasers like Iron Man's glove, but that's not what The Project should be.

CURUFIN HAS TO GET AN EPESSË IN THE END, ONE WHICH HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH FËANOR WHATSOEVER.

#ask meme #my fic #aman ever after #curufin #celebrimbor #feanor

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

"This is quite a feast, Lady Margaret."

"Yes, I must confess to being a great lover of food. It is not so much a question of how much, but what kind - I never seem able to pick and so the chef makes it all!"

Lady Catherine pursed her lips disapprovingly, "In the English Pure Faith, we believe that both gluttony and waste are great sins."

"Oh, but I would agree, Lady Catherine. That is why you need not eat beyond your hunger and anything we do not eat is enjoyed by the servants - tell me, how often do your servants dine on the finest food of their kingdom?"

Lady Catherine forced a polite smile and continued eating.

The door to the dining room opened and Margaret entered.

"Margaret!" scolded Catherine. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I was sent for, mama! I was told to come here for my dinner!"

"Indeed, ma cherie, and you are just in time. Please, take a seat where you please," smiled Lady Margaret.

"Excuse me, Lady Margaret, is that wholly appropriate? For a child to dine with us?"

Lady Margaret shrugged. "I always ate with my parents. Some of my happiest memories are being sat with them discussing art and literature while eating tarts and pies and all sorts." Margaret's voice trailed off dreamily, though it was not quite clear whether it was the memory of the conversation or the food that had her more enraptured.

"Well, in England, children eat with their governess - now, Margaret, off you go. Return to Lady Mary at once."

Without another word, Margaret turned on her heel and left as quickly as she had come.

Lady Margaret lowered her head politely, "I apologise for my mistake, Lady Catherine. Clearly the ways of England and Tartosa are more different than I had appreciated. I have only ever visited England once, and it was not for very long. I am therefore not familiar with your customs. Please, forgive me."

"Not at all, Lady Margaret. You have extended your hospitality to us with an unwavering generosity. A few cultural clashes are more than understandable, but I hope you will understand that I intend to raise my daughters the English way."

"Oui, bien sur! Though I hope you might allow me to help where I can?" asked Lady Margaret.

"'Help', Lady Margaret?" repeated Catherine, confused.

"Oui - you mentioned the governness. It must be very hard for her to manage two children of such different ages."

"Lady Mary is an excellent teacher and manages them both well."

"Oh, I did not mean to offend Lady Mary. I am sure she is superb. I just meant that I could support her while you are here."

"You would want to act as a governness?" asked Lady Catherine, confused that a Lady of such high estate would even consider taking on such a role.

"I would not see it in those terms, but I would like to be a mentor of sorts to Lady Margaret while she is here. I will leave raising her the 'English' way to you, of course, but I have my own knowledge to impart, I am sure."

"Is that so? I was given to believe that the Lords and Ladies of Europe viewed education as beneath them and valued one's ability to dance and make good conversation above any learning," replied Lady Catherine, a touch of smug superiority to her tone.

"Unfortunately, yes, that is the stance many take. But not my parents. They saw that I valued education most highly. Let me think... I speak seven languages, play piano, lute and vielle. My painting is not as impressive as my parents, but it is regarded well. I have multiple degrees in the sciences and arts and I am currently studying the history and law of Tartosa. Do you think any of that might be of use to your daughter?" Lady Margaret smiled politely, but her eyes had a playful glint to them, as if she had just moved a chess piece to checkmate against a cocky opponent.

Lady Catherine fought to hide how impressed she was, "I think perhaps, yes."

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor) | Start (Stuart)

Previous | Next

#great british sim challenge #sims 4 history challenge

[myaoiboy]

Can you try explain what you mean about Ocelot looking like a drag king in mgsv? I feel like your boyfriend in that I just. Don't see it? I'm trying to understand why Ocelot would even have that applied when he's always been just A Guy™

Okay so I'm going to try to do this without getting into Grad-Level 5D Queer Theory Media Criticism, but I also fully realize that in doing that, a lot of this is going to sound very much like I'm saying "Source: Just Trust Me Bro".

(anon i am SO sorry that you happen to be the first person to directly adress me about gender in MGS)

I also wanna be straight up front here and say that I'm not trying to imply that Ocelot is anything other than a guy, he's just also a guy who's playing a million roles (this is important) and lying to damn near everyone, including himself. He has some of the worst identity issues I've ever seen in a character, and that comes to a head in 4 where he literally isn't even *Ocelot* until the final moments of his life. So yes, for the sake of not writing War and Peace, I'm going to assume Ocelot is "just a guy" and come at this from a pure queer theory/media analysis standpoint, not a headcanon one.

So first it's really important to point out the order in which we see Ocelot through the series. In the timeline, the last time we see Ocelot before V is 3 (or PO which I haven't played due to its placement in canon-limbo, but Ocelot looks basically the same). So we see him go from A to B here.

I am going to say something potentially controversial: even before saw V ocelot, I thought 3 Ocelot looked like he was wearing drag *queen* makeup. I don't know whether it's intentional, or an attempt to circumvent the lower poly models and lower definition textures of the PS2, but the first image looks like someone who is going for a highly exaggerated, feminine cheek contour. Here's a few drag queens who, imo, do a very similar contour look:

Whether the color filter or the texturing of the PS2 or something else, the MGS3 version of Ocelot also has a look of mascara and frosted lipgloss (frosted lips being much more popular at the time of MGS3's original release than today, but alas).

So from that I was already very much primed to look for femininity in Ocelot's whole vibe. It was actually kind of jarring how much more rugged he is in V than in any of the previous games, to the extent that it sent up alarm bells in my head that something was going on.

I don't remember the moment that I went "hey, wait a minute," but it was certainly pretty early on. As someone who's been on tumblr a hella long time and remembers when we used to swap passing tips, the specific combination of facial features remind me of a very specific genre of "ftm makeup tutorials" that were also pretty contemporarily popular on tumblr. A very quick summary being mascara on the eyelashes and specific peach fuzz to give the impression of a squarer jaw and having more facial hair, as well as specific contouring to give a "masculine cheekbone." Most of these tips basically came directly from drag king makeup.

Gonna include some drag kings as well, some things to notice include the tendency towards using stubble as contouring and vice versa, the shaping of cheek contouring, and the tendency to accentuate mustache and sideburns.

I'm pretty bad at wording descriptions of hair and makeup so you'll have to forgive me for not going ham on explaining the similarities bc now we actually get to the interesting part which is: so fucking what? If this is true, if you take my word for it, what does it say about the text? If I want to make this argument to someone else, what can I say that will convince them that, even if it's not *intentional,* it's a valid and meaningful view of his character?

Like, you can make a character based on anything you want, but why does it matter whether Ocelot is based on drag either direction?

Ocelot's "drag"iness is multipurpose. One: he's queer. Like, I grant that he never comes out and says "I love 'Big "Naked 'John' Snake" Boss'" but we get a hell of a lot more confirmation that he's gay than we get straight confirmation for a lot of presumed-straight characters. I feel comfortable saying he's canon queer.

Two: it's a visual metaphor for being a double/triple agent. While he's literally performing several roles (KGB/GRU/CIA, or MSF/Real BB/US, or US/Patriots/BB, or anything in between), he's also visually playing two (or more) gender roles, a feminine man, a mannish woman, something neither or in-between. The implication of drag specifically is pretending to be something that he isn't (which he literally always is, holy shit, again, does he even know who he realiy is?).

And before anyone says "Well, if it's so important to his character, why did they wait until 3 to start doing it?" They didn't!!

This is THE most classically masculine that Ocelot ever looks. But there's still precious polygons invested into giving him long hair and a flowing coat. Working with sprites and low-poly models means having to very carefully select traits that you want to display on your character, and Ocelot's go into making him a cringefail cowboy.

The fact that he's a cowboy in itself is also pretty important to the whole gender/sexuality situation. I mean, Brokeback Mountain might not have been out yet, but the male-to-female ratio in the west meant a lot of men cozied up together on the frontier. Hell, hankey code comes from cowboy culture, with men wearing certain colors to announce who would take the "man" or "woman" role while square dancing.

I could go a lot into gender and how it works on a social/societal level in general and why that matters, but OOPS I have been writing this for a WHILE.

I was actually going to go a lot more into queer theory and gender in MGS in general but ngl, I could write a whole doctoral thesis on gender and how different characters perform or subvert gender. Because holy shit when you start peeling back the very thin macho facade of Kojima's work to do a feminist reading of it, boy howdy do you get. A whole lot to talk about. (ask me about death stranding sometime i dare you)

Basically what I'm trying to get across is that Ocelot has a lot of roles that he's playing and NOT playing, and more than a few of those are gender roles, which is very much visually symbolic of his character.

I am so sorry anon I have been thinking about him nonstop for a full year </3 I hope at least the first part of this answered your question about what features I see that scream drag to me.

#also i want to be SUPER clear that transvestigating real people would be fucked up #its always morally correct to transvestigate revolver ocelot #mgs #mgsv #mgs3 #mgs1 #ocelotposting #revolver ocelot #my analyses #analysis or something

[sparklingdemon]

Now that we’ve come back to the “for your own good arguement”

I can read some of these asks, they really are just abusive rhetoric stuff and I have to wounder if people realise how terrifying they sound

I really want to think up something nice for Cody to give them a break

i know right, holy cow, cody's askers get intense sometimes...

i think it is incredibly wild that cody will state what their wants and needs are, and certain players will be like, "but what if you're wrong actually? what if this is all your fault for being complacent with your trauma because you won't expose yourself to the things that traumatized you in the first place? what if we have to force you to conquer your fears against your will for you to be happy?"

as if violating the boundaries of the person who's forced to spend the rest of their life with you is in any way a good thing that they will ever forgive or thank you for, even if they DID somehow manage to accomplish what those players are asking them to do.

cody's ideal happy ending was just to spend their life with you, with complete trust that you would never hurt them or force them to do anything they didn't want to do, and that ending was violently taken away from them by people who wanted to hurt them. whether that desire to hurt them is out of pure sadistic malice, or some twisted idea of "the greater good", it doesn't make a difference to cody...

of course, i trust that these askers are just playing devil's advocate and the role of the antagonist for the sake of making a compelling story, and aren't truly abusive people in real life. i'm thankful for those askers, because they certainly accomplished that! this story wouldn't be what it is, without them.

that said, i would like to give cody a breather in the near future. it won't come without more drama first, though...

#ask #pocketden

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Never Tell - a Malevolent fic

Arthur and Bella Lester are not in love. They came together as friends, to protect each other, to give one another the freedom to live—and love—as they pleased.

Having a child was supposed to be part of that—quieting the rumors, providing a shield. But it wasn’t one baby; it was two… and something is very wrong with their golden-eyed son.

A Malevolent AU.

Warnings for mentions of historical homophobia and medical practices. Also a deeply irreverent Bella.

AO3

--------

Arthur sat in the waiting room, numb, frozen; he could smell his breath, and the booze on it, but wasn’t in the mental space to care all that much. Bella was alive, but not by much; she’d bled badly, so badly, and that was before they had to do the C-section. And he hadn’t been here. He had not been here.

“Mr. Lester?” said the doctor. “Please come with me.”

Arthur just looked at the doctor, feeling dead-eyed, then followed him deeper into the hospital.

Here and there, babies cried. Laughter rose, or excited babble. People happy with their situation, with their mess, with their family. Arthur felt sick. 

He was a fraud. He shouldn’t be here. This was wrong. He shouldn’t even be playing this role—

There she was.

“She should pull through,” said the doctor, “but it was touch and go for a while. She needs you, Mister Lester.”

Was that chiding, perhaps even condemning a tone? It should be, Arthur thought. Sure, they wouldn’t have let him in the room while she was giving birth, but that wasn’t the point. He should’ve been at the hospital, and he wasn’t. So. “Sure,” he said, and headed toward his wife.

She looked like hell. Bled white, her dark curls more than a little matted, her lips more pale than pink. Then she turned into blur.

Arthur wiped his leaky eyes, pulled the chair up to the bed, and sat.

She must have heard the chair. Bella’s eyes were shockingly blue in her pale face, like a painting done in only two colors. “Hello.”

Arthur swallowed. “Hi.” 

They looked at each other, a wealth of secrets thick between them like glue. Bella sighed. Her voice was weak. “Both of them are okay.”

“That’s what they told me,” Arthur said.

“I was half-sure you wouldn’t show up,” she said, and there was no censure in her voice.

They both understood. He appreciated it, still. “I… I couldn’t just… leave you, not now, not while…”

“The good news,” Bella said like announcing a dinner menu, “is they sliced me up down there, not just my belly, so nobody will blame you for not making any more babies any time soon.”

Arthur choked. Put his hand over his mouth. And made a sound that was neither laughing nor crying. “Bella, what the fuck?”

Bella smiled. “Gotcha,” she said.

“You always do,” he said. “I’m so sorry I did this to you.”

“Hush. Kept us both safe.” Because it had. Quashed rumors. Calmed parental fears. Soothed ruffled societal feathers. “And now we’re done, and we don’t have to do it again.”

Arthur sighed. “You probably should be a bit more concerned for your own survival right now than whether or not I have to stick my prick in you again.”

“No,” said Bella. “Priorities.”

Arthur laughed weakly and took her hand. “I’m so sorry. Maybe we should’ve just faked it. Pretended a miscarriage.”

“This is better,” she said. “And it’s done, anyway. So.”

“Fuck.” He held her hand in both of his now. “I haven’t seen the babies yet.”

Her smile was amazing; a smile he'd seen when they were teenagers, in school, and thought they could get away with anything. “They’re beautiful.”

“They probably look like a couple of wrinkled potatoes,” he said.

“Potatoes are delicious,” she said.

He snorted. “What, we’re going to eat them?”

“Would it be any worse than anything else we’ve done?” she said, and then closed her eyes for a moment, worn out from joking.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said, soft.

“I can smell why you weren’t.” Again, no censure. 

They’d been married for seven months, and was grateful for her forgiveness. She'd handled all of it so much better than he had. “I'm still sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. In your place, I honestly might’ve been across the border already. Screw all of this. Let’s go make bootleg liquor in Canada in the woods for the rest of our lives.”

He almost laughed. “Don’t tempt me. We’d make more money than my jingles.”

“I like your jingles.”

“They’re stupid jingles.”

“They’re money-making jingles, so they can be as stupid as they need.”

He was finally able to smile—weak, but there. “I hate this.”

“Me, too. But… if it had to be someone, Arthur… you’re still the best option I know.”

It was wrong. This marriage was wrong. They both knew it; but they were both trapped. They hadn’t known another way to save themselves. He still didn’t. “Well. Survive. Get better. And when you’re out of here, we can all go to Canada and make booze in the woods.”

“It’s a deal.” Her squeeze was weak. She closed her eyes. “Could you tell them I’m thirsty?”

“Yeah.”

“Go see the kids.”

Arthur hunched.

She knew he did, even though she wasn’t looking. “It’s all for nothing if we don’t keep up appearances.”

“If we’re lucky, they got your brains instead of mine,” said Arthur.

“If we’re lucky, they got the best of both of us,” she murmured. “That Twilight Sleep shit is something.”

Morphine and scopolamine, given as a matter of course to mothers in labor. “Must be, if you’re cursing in a public place.”

“Fuck ‘em. They can handle it.”

“It’s all for nothing if we don’t keep up appearances,” he said.

“Ah, ha,” she mumbled, and fell back asleep.

He held her hand a moment more. He liked her; he really did. She liked him, too. That was the only reason this worked, and they hadn’t killed each other or someone else or actually run to Canada.

Arthur sighed and rose. It was time to go see the little parasites that changed the course of his life and Bella’s—protecting them both, providing “proof” that neither of them were queer. 

It had been fun at first. Then it had been… sort of sick.

But they had to. Massachusetts wasn’t friendly to queers. This wasn’t Greenwich Village. A guy could go to jail for suspected sodomy, and he’d never get his life back even if he did get out; and just 1913, they’d gone publishing entire studies proclaiming women who loved women were perversions .

There were people pushing back, yeah; men who dressed pretty, women who wrote stories showing how good that love was. Musicians who were out, bold, brave.

Neither Arthur nor Bella felt inclined to do that. To take the heat. To be the faces people aimed for when they punched.

So they'd decided to help each other. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Fake it; make a baby, get married, quell all the rumors and whispers and pointed fingers. Then they could do what they wanted with their lives, and nobody had to know.

But then Bella’s dad had made it a big fucking deal (and Arthur suspected he knew , and did not approve). And Bella had not carried… well. She’d been sick most of the pregnancy; it had been a last-minute decision for her to go to the hospital instead of the usual home-birth.

He was glad they’d done that, now. He didn’t like this. Nobody liked this; this fake marriage, this forced situation. But he liked her. He didn’t want her to die.

Arthur dragged his feet on the way to the maternity ward, feeling a million years old instead of twenty-one. All around him, people talked, chattered, laughed; babies cried, and people seemed happy to hear that sound.

Arthur wiped his eyes. It had all seemed like such a smart idea. It felt like being trapped now. Trapped forever, the rest of their lives. Too late to pull out. In every sense of the word.

The hospital smelled awful. That was why he felt so nauseated, he decided. Sure.

They were waiting for him, smiling nurses, putting on a show (though he could see they were tired) for all the panicked, eager, hopeful, terrified dads who wandered in.

It felt like stepping up to a guillotine, walking through that door. Like this was what made it final, this was signing on the dotted line. This meant no going back. 

“They’re healthy and beautiful, Mister Lester,” said one nurse. “Congratulations!”

“Twins,” said the other, unnecessarily. “A boy and a girl.”

“Your wife didn’t name them,” said the first. “She said you already knew what names you wanted.”

That bitch. That glorious, funny bitch. He’d give his left foot to be as funny as she was. His lips quirked. “Sure,” he said, mentally scrambling. 

They reached into the bassinets and held the babies up. They didn’t look like anything. Squashed tomatoes. Eyes tightly closed, tiny mittens covering their hands.

“Your daughter,” said the one nurse.

And Arthur knew. “Faroe.” Because that was his grandmother’s name. 

“And him?” said the other nurse, holding up his son.

That was harder. He didn’t know anybody he’d want to name him after. Eh. A generic name would do. An ordinary, strong name so nobody would look at him sideways. “John,” said Arthur.

The names were written on the dotted line.  For better or for worse, it was done.

“Bella said she was thirsty,” he shared, and the nurse went to deal with that.  But before she did, she handed him his son.

Arthur had no idea how to hold a baby. He took the squashed tomato, nervous, trying to support the head, surprised at the solidity of such a little thing, of his warmth.

Then John opened his eyes, and they were solid gold. 

Not yellow, gold, gleaming like metal from lid to lid, like wedding bands still polished behind glass. Arthur froze.

The other nurse came up beside him, holding Faroe. “You’re in for it,” said the nurse with forced cheer. “Twins! That’s a whole other ballgame.”

Arthur gawked at her, then looked down again, but John's eyes were normal—blue, if abnormally steady on his face. “Oh,” said Arthur, because he didn’t know what else to say. What the hell had that been? Was he cracking up?

"Twins tend to be each other's best friend," said the nurse, standing close.

And maybe Arthur was cracking up, because these babies were very new, practically grubs with limbs, but he could swear they were trying to reach for one another with their tiny, mittened hands.

-----

NOTES:

I have plans for this fic. It's gonna be slow going, since I have several others I want to finish first, but I couldn't risk this seed getting lost. It's gonna be a fun ride.

#malevolent #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfiction #malevolent podcast #john doe malevolent #malevolent pod #arthur lester #malevolent AU #bella lester #faroe lester #john lester #never tell fic

[incorrectbatfam]

could you do any stephanie and bruce headcanons

I need to work on using the "keep reading" cuts

Bruce's grief after Steph died was much more silent than Jason's because otherwise the public would've started prying, but he also placed every ounce of blame on himself and seriously considered retiring Batman (and in turn, Robin, so no more kids have to get hurt)

She jokingly made him pinky promise to take her to Belgium for waffles on her 18th birthday and he stuck to his word

They sold rainbow cookies at Pride and the proceeds (plus an extra donation from Bruce) went to Steph's high school GSA

Steph changed Bruce's lock screen to her double-chin selfie with a psychedelic filter. When one of his coworkers at saw it, he just said, "Kids, am I right?"

They are contractually obligated to sing the Space Jam theme together at karaoke

Whenever they travel as a family, Steph and Bruce each get their own hotel rooms—Bruce because he snores and Steph because she thinks she's Adele performing at Wembley Stadium

She trolled Bruce's Twitter so hard that people were convinced she was a rival CEO

Steph refused to let Bruce pay for college, so instead he visited often and helped her write the perfect scholarship applications

She found a five-leaf clover and stuck it to Bruce's cowl in the middle of his town hall speech

They tried to cook together and reeeally overshot the amount of salt

Bruce cried a little when she moved to her first apartment

They went to a family therapist for 3 months after Steph came back from the dead to sort everything out

Steph doesn't remember when she told Bruce she doesn't like licorice, but he never forgot

She decorated Bruce's motorcycle helmet with Spoiler stickers

They have a shared hatred for people who don't put their shopping carts away

Bruce learned the "make a wish on a dandelion" thing from Steph, and he does it when no one's watching

In her senior year of high school, Steph was on the freshman orientation team and to stand out from the other orientation leaders, she had Batman stand next to her handing out free t-shirts

Bruce follows her suspicions, no matter how silly they might seem at first—she has a better eye for details than him

One time he found her tinkering with a non-functional music box she found in the attic. They stayed up all night to restore it together and when it was done, it had a newly painted ballerina and played Martha's favorite childhood song

When she was Batgirl, people constantly compared her to Babs and Cass and it made her question every tiny thing she did and whether she could live up to the mantle. Bruce knew this, and he also knew this wasn't something he could fix for her in one fell swoop. Still, that didn't stop him from leaving the positive comments on her mission reports and telling her she's doing a good job in the middle of a fight

"Bruce, I can read your mind." "What am I thinking right now?" "Why is her thumb in my ear?"

Her way of waking him up involves a squirt gun in each hand

Bruce thinks Steph is really brave for showing up to the Wayne gala in an outfit that's half of her Spoiler costume mixed with pajamas

Bruce failed his own company's drug test because Steph gave him a poppy seed bagel that morning

Steph played an important role in Bruce and Selina's wedding: making sure villains stayed away and the cake didn't topple over

One time they were the only ones awake at sunrise when the snow had just freshly fallen, so they raced outside for a snowball fight

One of their undercover disguises was as a father and daughter—with Steph being the father

Steph forgives Bruce for her death because she was the one who put herself in danger, and she hopes someday he can learn to forgive himself

They both picked the worst wallpapers for the bathroom so Alfred had to override their decision

Steph made him watch all the Tinker Bell movies

#ask #anonymous #bruce wayne #batman #stephanie brown #spoiler #batfamily #batfam #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #tw death mention #tw food mention #tw angst

[altschmerzes]

I do follow hockey, but definitely not enough for this thing with Thierry because all I’m coming up with is Fleury and I don’t think he’s from Montreal and I don’t think he played there either so can you explain? Google informed me that Carey Price exists which like yes thank you google I am aware

LOREAUX. YES. WHEEZE. THANK YOU.

just- okay. bear with me for a moment here where i wax on a bit about the huge potential for A Big Interesting Internal Landscape in thierry zoreaux, a canadian goalie from montréal. (if i get anything wrong in the process forgive me, this is all off the dome based on My Personal Experience And Perspective as a longtime sports fan. also it got.... long lmaooo sorry for that. i simply think goalies are fascinating and thierry specifically has such an interesting context for Being A Goalie. also no season 3 spoilers in here!.)

you're correct that fleury isn't from mtl, no! he's from another city in the province, and he never played for the habs. and you're also right, carey price does exist sldkfjs and he's CONSTANTLY on my mind when i think about thierry and about the role of goalies in sports that have them - whenever there's a team sport that has One person who is uniquely different and has a radically different role (goalie, pitcher) compared to the rest of the team (whose roles are pretty similar even if they're first baseman, outfielder, midfielder, fullback) there's gonna be a Lot going on there. goalies have a reputation for being Really Fucking Weird. like. those guys are Odd and everyone knows it. (pitchers are the same way. known for superstitions, habits, Generally Being An Absolute Oddball.) they have a different kind of attention, a different kind of pressure. at the end of the day it always is going to come down to them on their own, in one way or another. goalie characters in sports fiction obsess me because of all the Baggage and all of the Stuff that goes into Being A Goalie and man. that was enough to make thierry really compelling to me, as the goalie we see the most of. and then specifically being a goalie From Montréal? ohohohohoho.

i watch football/soccer a lot these days and have for a couple years but i've been a hockey fan for much longer and i can't help see things through that pov sometimes, and as soon as they intro'd a character from mtl, my background as a habs fan perked right up. a goalie from mtl. that was the first hockey team i ever followed and boy does it have mountains of history that make it a fascinating team to follow/learn about/think about especially as a narrative background/parallel/foil/whatever.

obviously thierry's a soccer player, he's a soccer goalie, but in the words of someone i spoke to yesterday, "hockey suffocates every other sport in this country." it's always around, always present. your average torontonian can probably name the last year the leafs won the cup even if they hate sports. the canadian viewership numbers during playoffs is nuts. i've seen a few percentages come up - in the 70s-80s. i also have had some fun daydream thoughts about thierry being a multi-sport player growing up. there's a hockey player i can think of who pretty much got all the way to the point of draft eligibility before deciding whether he was gonna play hockey or baseball. that's a headcanon i have about thierry too, that he spent a while playing hockey when he was younger and was pretty damn good at it, probably could've gone pro, but decided to stick with soccer in the long term because he liked it more.

anyways, so. the sport is huge, it's unavoidable, and one of the biggest teams is the canadiens. especially if you live in mtl. it's hard to overstate the extent to which they are an institution, practically a religion. and one of the things that's important to understand about the context of thierry specifically rather than if like- if any other player had grown up in québéc, is that the habs have an...... intense history with goalies. like a VERY specifically intense history with goalies. they've had some of the biggest names in hockey goaltending history in their nets and the combination of the team's history, the goalies who've been there, and the media market of montréal means that being the habs goalie is one of the most heavily scrutinized, highly public roles in the sport.

the whole...... sports fabric of montréal is steeped in goalies. jaques plante, patrick roy, carey price. so many more enormous names, names everyone who's into hockey knows immediately, names that left permanent marks on not only the habs and mtl but on the sport as a whole. every year the league awards the best goalie of the regular season the vezina trophy, named for georges vézina, who played his entire career for the canadiens. (these days, the likes of sam montembeault. québéc born and raised goalie who now plays in the habs organization, heir apparent to carey price's net. monty, with goalie masks depicting jaques plante and the torch that is literally passed every year at the beginning of the habs season at their first home game, that is mentioned in the motto in their dressing room, inside the collars of their jerseys. it's a quote from a poem about the first world war - to you from falling hands we throw the torch be yours to hold it high.)

for thierry this would've been just.... all around him. when i think of him i think of him growing up in a habs watching household, because most families are in one way or another in that region, and having this idea of like. the role of a goalie. the pressure of being a goalie, watching particularly the way that carey price, one of the best goalies who's ever played, was completely wasted by the catastrophic mismanagement of the habs during his prime. i think all the time of this screencap from either the behind the scenes videos the habs produced for PR stuff or some feature on tv or documentary thing, a shot of carey price with his iconic thousand yard stare, the subtitles from the voiceover saying if he could score, he would play alone. i have to think that'd do something to a person, you know. seeing how important the goalie is, how revered and respected they can be, and that it can still not make a difference in the end. not enough of one. there will still be people who hate you because you're not the guy who came before you, because you can't just do it all yourself. and then choosing to be one anyway.

so you know. you're thierry zoreaux. you grow up in montréal. you can't avoid the habs if you tried, it's baked into the city. it's in the air. and you're a goalie. it doesn't matter whether you play hockey or soccer, the role of a goalie is a different thing, a unique experience. you are involved in everything, and you are alone. you are so, so visible, and so, so overlooked. you never appear on the goal sheets, but some media outlet will blame you for every loss. you're a little weird, a little wired. a little in your head, a little in another world. your teammates adore you but everyone knows there's something about you that's different, that sets you apart. every one of them sees it as their job to protect you, but at the end of the day, none of them can help you do what you do.

also, as an aside, i checked his wiki page real quick, and have learned the actor is jewish and sees his character that way too to which i say: ONE OF US. ONE OF US. ONE OF US. also i am about to write fic about this IMMEDIATELY. thierry zoreaux, quebecois goalie and jewish king. i've always been a little extra attached to him - minor character enjoyer that i am and enthralled by the potential in him, and also just finding him. very funny, and his actor a delight in his scenes. i love him and i need to write way more about him Right Now. it just occurred to me earlier, when i made that first post about him, and realized the line i'd jotted down wasn't half as good if you didn't have the story that exists around him in my mind, around his role and his experiences and cultural context about his role. and well! here we are now.

#gav gab #thierry zoreaux #gav answers #tagging him ig because this has been some longwinded meta thoughts i guess about his position and where he grew up and how yknow #that might inform him and his approach and what being a goalie Means to him #hockeyblogging #IN A SENSE? #ted lasso #just #you’re the goalie when your team gets relegated #you’re the goalie when they get promoted again #what does that Do To A Person

[hms-no-fun]

Sarah, Do you hate Rose Lalonde? Not in like the heavy malicious way people associate with Andrew and his relationship with hussie but like, as a fan of godfeels for probably the wrong reasons (my autistic ass really likes the way you approach the character and also me when someone writes Dirk and doesn’t make him a irredeemable piece of shit and a active creep) something that’s stuck out to me reading your tumblr and thinking back on the story is that rose is, to me at least, one of the most unluckiest characters in godfeels, both from a writing and in character perspective,m.

she’s the first to display the kid’s transphobia and thereby the first to get reality checked by June (which, to be fair to both June as a character and your reason for that scene in your godfeels video, she deserved) and therefor the first forced to learn the lesson of “you can move on and continue being friends with people but still not forgive them for the shit they put you through” (which I will admit I might be wrong on) and I’m pretty sure the first one to die when June does the whole kill everyone (or at least everyone that’s considered gods) on earth c thing, and besides that, unless I’ve misremembered something, besides the first chapter of divergence syndrome, she doesn’t really do much until she gives her final message to kanaya and well, the shit all goes down.

I’m not a big big fan of rose Lalonde, but it just feels like there’s something like, there, like there’s something about rose that you’ve never agreed with, and thinking back on it I don’t hate it, but it feels like sometimes rose is a means to a end, which is what all characters are but I mean like, a means means to a end, “how do Segway into the beta kids transphobia of June” through Rose’s constant biased Psychoanalysis failing her in the worse way possible, “How to keep epigone in after Dirk’s absolute asskicking” possessing her corpse, “how to finally get Gerald’s halo out of the story” get her dead, “how do I pronounce death to all endgame ships” kill the lesser used part of the pair, it just, feels like there’s something there, not something outright malicious, but something just, there, like the reverse of the hussie Vriska stuff, creator’s Chew toy stuff.

I apologize for the rudeness this ask may give off, I do truely love godfeels and read up to date anything about it that gets released, this just has been negging the back of my mind for so long.

spoilers for godfeels 3 here but i guess that ship's kinda sailed if you read the question lmao

i don't hate Rose at all! i mean i think freudians are all cranks and it really bugs me how much mid-century and contemporary marxist theory is couched in freudian/jungian/lacanian bullshit, but that's not really got anything to do with Rose lmao. i can't say that i hate any of the characters in godfeels the way andrew seemed to hate, say, Jake English (though there *are* homestuck characters i dislike and wouldn't enjoy writing, which is why they're not in the fic). i'm of the mind that every character sucks in their own unique ways and that's precisely what makes fiction fun to read. that Rose doesn't have a ton of direct agency in the narrative just comes down to, in part, this being a story focused primarily on June. that i didn't really understand how to write Rose in gf1-2 certainly doesn't help. but it's also related to how i interpret her role as a Seer of Light.

her role in gf3 onwards is defined by the Epilogues, where she either needed to transfer her consciousness to a robot body that could contain her ultimate self before her physical body died, or otherwise exist in a universe untethered from canon where connection to her ultimate self is irrelevant. she's had visions of, presumably, a great deal of the events of chapter 8, and i think understood that VV's whole gambit (whether or not she knew it was VV specifically playing this game) was to split the difference between Candy and Meat by disconnecting from Homestuck canon while still maintaining existential relevance in the shadow of some other story.

a lot of the best narrative premonitions/prophecies, especially in Homestuck, use them for dramatic irony-- that is, by trying to avoid a projected future, you only end up creating it. classic macbeth shit. if there's anyone in this story who viscerally understands that vicious narratological cycle, it's Rose Lalonde. so rather than pushing back, warning her friends, trying to rally the troops, she instead accepts that her universe's survival requires sacrifice, namely Major Character Death.

in this way, her so-called suicide wind is an echo of Dirk's own suicide in Candy, albeit towards existentially opposite purposes. and in that sense it's an equally selfish act, because who knows! maybe they *could* have done something substantial to prepare for Epigone's coming if Rose had bothered to warn anyone! but such is the passive nihilism of our beloved Seer, whose death could never be anything less than a dramatic tragedy. this was, in fact, an exercise in absolute agency-- Rose chose to accept her fate rather than fight back against it, perhaps even vibed with how poetic it was to be decapitated by her own beloved wife.

all of this is very relevant to the future of godfeels-- i didn't put her at the center of a load-bearing polycule just to have her death be meaningless. :)

#sarahposts #godfeels #rose lalonde #spoilers

[gatheringbones]

Hi! I saw your advice on another ask and so am hoping you might be open to taking another. If not, it’s ok if you disregard I don’t mean for this to be an obligation.

What’s your suggestion for people who frame abuse and bullying (and, at this point, severe and longterm cyberstalking) as an appropriate punishment for actions of yours they deem wrong? I haven’t interacted with this person in years because I eventually realized they would never stop finding reasons to “punish” and then “forgive” me and the punishments just got worse and worse. But now they’ve been harassing me and recently my family too because they’ve convinced all their friends that me going no-contact is further evidence of my “guilt”.

Really, I’m looking for any kind of resources that are specifically designed for or about this type of abuse. If you know of anything I can do to prevent it that doesn’t involve the police or deleting social media (I’ve already done the second many times but I won’t force my family to do it too) that would help too.

Oh, love this. This person has figured out that if they label you an abuser, they can do whatever they want to you and your primary relationships with no consequences. They get to fulfill a variety of emotional needs by fixating on a revenge crusade that allows them to play a role that makes them feel powerful and safe, and they get to manipulate you and your family members into whatever roles support that narrative. They'll go on trying to start up new opportunities for role-play as long as it continues to net them positive rewards; the only way to prevent that is to make every attempt as boring and as frustrating as possible.

The only suggestion I can think of is to talk to your family members about not feeling the need to defend or protect you or engage with them on your behalf, to not even try to "save" you from the story that's been presented to them. They don't need to stand up for you, or devote time to figuring out whatever fresh tactic this person comes up with, or discern whether you're really guilty or not. It's fine. You guys can talk amongst each other about what guilt and accountability mean to each of you for as long as you want, which is the most important part of making sure that your family members get their needs met with you so they don't need to attempt to fix or solve or understand the issue from the mouth of the crusader. The more you can all avoid being distracted or debilitated by shame and fear, the better, even if you were really at "fault" for something.

There's an opportunity buried at the heart of this that's hard to describe, but I really want to recommend some of the essays from Beyond Survival, especially the ones by kai cheng thom and adrienne marie brown about what the community response ought to be when harm takes place, and what structures exist in our imaginations that shape the dynamics and flow of energy and the words and symbols used during conversations and interactions surrounding harm.

Whose methodology is it to use harm done as a pretext for judging/shaming/categorizing/sterilizing/liquidating? What empires perfected and shaped entire aspects of society around these same pretexts? Where does it all stop, and when does harm done to harm done become inert and dissipated and creates no further context and opportunity for harm? Who benefits?

[subukunojess]

Rabbidsona/OC: Violetta Reference and Info

I got inspired by the Rabbid OCs on my dash interacting with the latest DLC: Rayman in the Phantom Show and I also wanted to create my own Phantom Show OC to the point where I got inspiration to draw it out. First time drawing a Rabbid, so please forgive me. I have a wip one-shot on the way, but I wanted to flesh her out as I'm writing. Character notes under the cut:

Origins, Sparks, and Abilities

Violetta (She/Her) is a neurodivergent Rabbid who once lived in Paletteville, Palette Prime. She is a combination of a Rabbid and violets, so her hair smells like flowers.

I am not sure whether or not in her past, she could have been involved with Cursa and the Spark Hunters. Still deciding on that.

Regardless, Violetta is cursed similar but different to Woodrow. She could write novels fine and there would be no bad luck. However, when she writes with ultimate passion, especially with anything she is very interested in, she summons monsters. At first, no one put two and two together until one day, a giant Piranha Plant sprouted in town, a short story with plants got published and a few denizens saw Violetta playing with the plant. Ever since then, people called her "The Monster of Paletteville" and banished her.

Violetta ended up on a new planet seemingly undiscovered that she dubbed "Monstervania", a dark forest/jungle planet filled with monsters and inspired by Transylvania. She had to find her own shelter in the wilderness and along the way, met three Spark siblings.

Her Spark friends are (from left to right): Chord (They/Them) who can change and mimic voices, Scale (She/Her) who can shrink or grow others, and Tack (He/Him) who can disguise someone with a nice outfit. Scale is considered the older sister for the other two and the most powerful. They were all lost and hiding from Cursa until Violetta arrived, so the four of them joined together to survive.

Violetta's weapon is a Kusarigama, a chain-sickle with the sickle part being shaped like a treble clef. I'll get to that in a minute.

She has an ability that I'm trying to name. Basically, when it activates, she could make it so that her opponents only see her as a beacon or a siren of sorts. In probable gameplay, the enemies will be focused on her while any of her teammates within range would be as if they were Unseen for two turns.

Violetta is best described as the sweet and adorable woman you don't want to mess with. She falls under the trope of "the cute and nice person who writes/likes dark subjects and can tear your heart apart verbally and emotionally". She's a sociable introvert. At first, she comes out as outgoing and curious, but she tends to be shy and quiet.

When she gets overstimulated, not only does she get the urge to write but that is also when her "curse" comes into play the most. Her fur would bristle and fangs would come out from her mouth. She usually tries hiding away from others and if possible, uses Tack and/or Chord to disguise herself.

Like most Rabbids, her eyes turn red when upset.

How Violetta and Phantom meet; Her role in The Space Opera Network

So Violetta and The Phantom meet in awkward and strange circumstances. Prior to the Banishment, Violetta was an avid fan of Phantom's singing and would listen to his music once in a while. When she came to Monstervania, she only had the clothes on her back, some food packed, a cell phone, and headphones, so at night she would listen to the Phantom's songs with her Sparks.

One night during a Full Moon, Violetta gets inspired and writes a story in her journal with Phantom in mind. The curse activates and (with Scale's ability somehow involved) Phantom is summoned and now 100 feet tall.

Violetta understandably freaks out because A) This has never happened before, B) she accidentally pulled a big-time celebrity to an unknown planet and changed him without knowing, and C) She finds it oddly attractive. So she runs away, unknowingly leaving Scale and the journal behind.

Phantom at this point had recently become the director of The Space Opera Network. One moment, he is in a meeting, and the next, he finds himself as a giant in a dark forest. He sees someone run away but meets Scale and reads Violetta's work.

Meanwhile, Violetta, Tack, and Chord end up in a castle where a mad scientist rabbid lives with a monster named Brutus and he wants the Sparks to give to Cursa and Violetta for experimentation/a companion for Brutus.

Chaos ensues to the point where Phantom and Scale catch up to Violetta and they all join forces to escape the scientist and his monster army. It was at this fight that Violetta gets her chain-sickle which is inspired by Phantom.

During the fight and the discussion afterward, the Phantom realizes how creative Violetta is along with her power, her wonderful writing, and how she improvises in the heat of the moment. He decides right then and there to hire Violetta for the Space Opera Network.

After the escape and both Phantom and Violetta have a heart-to-heart, some of the crew from the Space Opera Network arrive on a spaceship along with Phantom's agent to get the Phantom. Phantom does get back to his normal size, but he also takes Violetta to live and work at the Network.

Violetta is now a screenwriter/actor while writing novels and short stories on the side. Most of the crew either don't know of her curse or know of her curse but don't care. They are very accommodating and at this point, it's an open secret with surprises. Despite whatever minor detail or random monster suddenly appears, the Phantom actually takes it in stride and for the most part enjoys the chaos of it all.

The Spark Siblings also get to work at the Network as well! Scale helps around as much as she can, Chord is in charge of the sound mixing, and Tack handles the costumes.

Violetta's Thoughts On Relationships

Woodrow: A good friend and a fan of the poet's work. Violetta finds in him a kindred spirit of literature and their curses. At first, she was afraid that he would be mad at her because sometimes the townsfolk would blame him whenever her curse activates, but he didn't mind. She also does not mind whatever luck happens and would gladly listen to a poem.

Sparks in General: They are adorable, powerful creatures that must be protected! And they are great friends.

Phantom: From being a fan to a good friend/secret crush. She sees him as a creative idol and although she tends not to follow pop culture and trends, she does see the appeal in Phantom's work. She was afraid that he would hate her and look down upon her, but he surprisingly seemed more down-to-earth than other "celebrities". Meanwhile, not only does Phantom want to involve himself with a creative visionary, but during his adventure in Monstervania, he feels a brief emotion of ultimate power/energy with Violetta's attention alone. Basically, when she gets excited about the Phantom, Phantom briefly has a large power boost. He does not overuse this, but he does take advantage of it when it happens. Overall, just casual friends with one playfully teasing the other and the other having a crush on the former.

Dahlia (@hostess-of-horror's OC): A fan of the Director's work. She wants to meet and possibly collab/act in Dahlia's movies, but she's anxious about it and goes into the "OMG, the more talented and cool superstar will not like me and I'm a nobody". Notably when "Rabula" got aired, seeing it made Violetta overstimulate (because she loved it so much) and she hid away while unconsciously summoning a lightning monster of all things. She does stop the monster from destroying the studio and attacking Dahlia, but she is really embarrassed about the whole thing.

Like me, Violetta keeps to herself and gets nervous meeting other people, so she does want to make friends, but it's difficult for her to make the first move.

That's what I have on Violetta and her Sparks so far. They currently appear in two of my fics that I'm in the process of writing. I hope to use them soon.

#OC: Violetta #OC: Scale The Spark #OC: Tack the Spark #OC: Chord the Spark #Mario + Rabbids #rabbids #rabbidsona #rabbid oc #oc #Rayman In The Phantom Show #mario rabbids #phantom of the bwahpera #Tom Phan #SNJart #fan art #oc lore #oc ref sheet #oc x canon #OC: Dahlia #headcanons