#and there is nothing wrong with that being presented as a happy outcome

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I sometimes see people complain about "misogyny" in older Disney movies, particularly regarding the fairytale ones, but they never once bring up a legitimate argument and it's always some really nit-picky shit lmao

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Bruce has a 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality about the tabloids claiming he adopts too many kids- Developing foster homes that are paid for through the Wayne inheritance, personally vetted by the Bats, they're the leaders in the space for child health outcomes and family placement. Insert Danny.

---

Bruce has too much wealth, too many rumors and not enough reach into the abhorrent foster homes around Gotham to improve them. Tim ends up being the one to suggest it- He's the one who buys up their real estate for their safe houses after all- and Bruce is more than ready to pull the metaphorical trigger to get new clean welcoming spaces, Bat-background checked fosters and a new era of adoption in Gotham underway.

He's lobbied the state and the federal government for reforms of course, but this is a project he can micromanage. He spends time with every kid that comes through, talks with all the families that want to adopt and makes sure that these miniature homes are provided only the very best. Alfred personally hires all the staff, and with Barbara more than happy to help relocate the unhoused children she spots while they patrol, the project is a glowing success.

Occasionally, spots in their houses fill up, and those are the weeks were Cass takes on the Cowl of Batman- Bruce Wayne will personally invite a child in need to his home. He always has one of his kids present (they rotate on a pre-determined schedule) and he does his best to try and get them to understand that they deserve the world, have all the potential that anyone else has and can achieve a bright future. That he will personally aid them in their ambitions.

PR goes crazy for it of course, but Bruce and all of his children know its genuine. Almost too genuine, because a betting pool 'WILL THEY BE ADOPTED' regularly circulates between the siblings and the entire JL when someone spends time at the manor. And not just the black-haired, Blue-eyed kids get picked as favored outcomes- but obviously the running joke gets passed around.

It's a Thursday night when Bruce gets the call that the houses have once again filled up, and that there is a child in need of a home. The social worker (he knows her as Marsha and he has flowers planned to be sent on her birthday next week, like he does for all of his employees) (Say micromanaged one more time) explains that the kid is a bit cagey but has opened up with some humor. She explains that he has a few strange... mannerisms. She's not sure what to make of him, a non-gothamite for sure but something is, well, distinctly 'not from around here' about his energy.

Danny arrives at the house, meets Duke and Alfred, and by the time Bruce meets him at the dinner table it seems as though Marsha had it all wrong. This kid was laughing, he was teasing, he was totally playing along like he'd gone through nothing. Bruce is glad he's in high spirits but its just so... so different from all the other children he's taken in.

Bruce re-focuses on the conversation when Duke mentions something flashing, and its the first time that Danny goes quiet. Entirely still.

"...you noticed that?" Danny quietly asks, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You don't have a flashlight on or something do you? It was super bright whatever it is that you had in your hand a second ago?" Duke tries to sound chill but he's looking very much not chill. Bruce saw nothing, and that puts him further on edge.

"Look... I uh, I've been though... I've been through a lot lately. And the last lab I was in kind of, messed with me. I'm normally much better at dealing with it all, I promise." Danny sounds nervous, and the room seems to chill.

"Ah shoot, sorry." Danny notices something and frantically apologizes.

"Sorry for what Danny? You've done nothing wrong but I am worried about you- You said you were in a lab?" Bruce is desperately trying to calm him down while not slipping into Batman interrogation mode.

"Uh, yeah, like a lot of labs. It should get warmer in a second, its just cause I startled, I promise."

"You're a meta." Duke speaks softly and with hope in his voice- Danny is looking between them with wide eyes filled with fear.

"I mean I don't technically have the gene-"

"Danny, have you told any of your case workers where you were? Do any authorities know what you've been through?" Bruce needs to know, desperately, that who ever gave this young boy super powers is brought to justice. Danny goes quiet.

"I'm really sorry." He says softly, but he doesn't leave them.

Duke and Bruce try to ask a few more questions but the silence that meets them declares the conversation over, even with Duke admitting he himself is a meta. Danny didn't even look up from his plate. They watch a movie after dinner, and Danny seems to get back to the smile-y happy guy he had been before dinner.

Each of the bat-fam have their own interactions with Danny- And even if they're getting along amazingly, Danny won't open up. He doesn't open up to his provided therapist. Doesn't talk to Alfred. No one knows what's up.

So when Marsha calls Bruce back explaining they now have a spot for Danny and he can move out of the Manor... Bruce replies that he'd like to get started on Adoption paperwork, so long as Danny is fine with it.

---

Turns out, Danny is fine with it. he's both the newest Wayne and their newest case. (And godamnit, his new family is going to avenge him. If only he'd let them try.)

Danny figures out that Duke= Signal early on because of that dinner, and if he's going to keep his parents out of jail, he needs to be as close to the investigation as possible. He knows that he shouldn't protect the Fentons, but he feels the upset in his core at the thought of letting them befall any harm. He has to protect them. Has to protect Jazz and her hiding spot as a mole within their lab. Has to.

Even if it meant lying to his new family who loves him, and who he loves in equal return. Even if it means lying to The Bats.

---

Tabloids go crazy about the black-haired blue-eyed thing of course, but no poll was ever taken by the batfam or the JL who know the whole story.

[gazelles-gazelles]

Adora is the perfect image of good girls in misogynistic systems. Being good and right and correct, being obedient, doing as she’s told and doing it well, thinking that since she’s doing good she will get good, that the income would match the outcome, that her hard work in the present would translate for the bright future, cause and effect, a perfect just-world fallacy, guaranteed success and glory and happiness. In the horde, that’s what she was was taught so that’s what she learned and believed, she was working and training and studying hard, being the perfect soldier, yes there were cracks in the steps but what’s at the end of the path is what matters. And then as she-ra, her world changes from the outside but remains the same from the inside, she carries that mentality with her, and she-ra herself with all her power and love is enough proof that Adora is on the right path. That she’s doing good, a lie that’s been told over and over and over again. And the final sudden and absolutely haunting tragedy is in the heart, when she realises that it was all in vain, that she was doing everything not only bad but the facade of goodness was actually making it worse for her, that her obedience erased her true self, her body never belonged to her, her strength and intelligence was meant to serve another’s vision and not a proof of her own merits, that her niceness and politeness and oh-so-goodness was just to make her a better and easier tool to use. That she was nothing but a sacrifice, a lamb to the slaughter, that her death the way her life was is not about her own. That she had been forcibly married to the war and the battlefield, and there’s no question for a divorce. That she had been everything, a tool, a doll, a weapon, a goddess, a statue, a mural, but never a person. And this realisation that feels like an execution, that her entire personhood or at least what she think of it as was built on something bad and wrong and incorrect. How can one even begin to stop and step back and erase it all and start over? How can anyone fix it?

[johanna-swann]

A conversation I've recently seen on tumblr that I think is worth mentioning in the context of the latest Buck&Eddie fight:

Abusers usually don't become abusers on purpose. They don't act on the thought of "how can I be evil towards my loved ones today?" They're not always consciously aware of their manipulation tactics. They do still love the people they hurt.

For example I don't think Eddie thought "I can use my son to emotionally manipulate my best friend", but he knew that having Christopher around would make Buck calmer and happy, maybe even thankful towards Eddie for making this reunion possible. That's why he flew Chris in on short notice - to make Buck feel better. But this way he also conveniently avoided having to confront his own actions and apologise, leaving Buck as the only one who accepts blame.

I don't think he meant to scare Buck by getting physical either, Eddie was just expressing his anger - but it still put Buck in a position where he probably was scared of Eddie physically hurting him. It was at least a possibility.

And Eddie constantly telling Buck to stop whining about his own hurt feelings and think about Eddie instead probably wasn't meant as anything but a cry for help, a "I'm here too! I'm hurting too!", but the message Eddie is sending here is "my feelings are more important than yours and you should prioritise accordingly".

Eddie never apologising for anything and waiting for Buck to apologise instead probably just comes from a place of insecurity and wounded pride, but it sends the message that Buck is always wrong and Eddie is always right or has nothing to apologise for.

Eddie talking positively about Buck and showing concern for his emotional well being around mutual friends in Buck's absence, but yelling at him in private wasn't planned, but it gives outsiders a distorted image of what the friendship actually looks like. Worse, if Buck at any point later goes to Hen and Karen to talk about Eddie's behaviour they will remember how Eddie was worried. They will take Buck's words with a grain of salt because Eddie has established himself as a caring friend in their eyes. Which wasn't Eddie's intent at all, he does care about Buck and impulsively blew up at him later.

But intent doesn't change the outcome. I know Eddie is going through it. I know he has trauma and grief and that Buck isn't perfect. But he's presenting a long list of bright red flags that are text book examples of emotional abuse and it has become a pattern that started at least 5 years ago with the lawsuit arc.

[niniane17]

I realize that anti Got Season 8 posting in late 2024 is a bit boomerish, but screw that it's my blog and there's no law stating that I can't post about That Series again.

I've stumbled across an old anti-Daenerys post written by a Sansa fan some months after the show ended and...oh my God. I had nearly forgotten just how batshit crazy those takes are.

Dany is a colonialist. Dany is a white supremacist. If you like her you are both. Martin is just pretending to write her as a hero, in the end he will reveal she was evil all along and freeing slaves was a secret code for enslaving people. Valyria is evil and the Targaryens are evil. Westeros is simultaneously the ancient Americas and Medieval Europe. Essos is Europe but also the Oppressed Middle East.

Sansa is the true anti colonialist hero. Sansa is the true opprossed woman. If you don't support her you are an oppressor and possibly a rapist yourself. The North is good and the Starks are good. When Arya sails West of Westeros sporting the North's banner, she is not partaking in colonialism, in fact, she will be the anti Christopher Columbus. How do we know that? Because she's a Stark, the Starks are good...

It's maddening. No wonder Daenerys fans are driven into a frenzy. It's not irrationality, it's just natural frustration at constantly being held to double standards and fighting some crazy takes.

Now, treating a fantasy tv show fandom as anti-colonial activism is bad enough, but it's clear to me that at least some of these takes are motivated by the fact they see Sansa as the underdog, mistreated by both the characters and sometimes even the narrative.

And here's where things get weird.

I've said many times that I didn't become a full Dany fan until she was heavily mistreated by the narrative, and I'm definitely not alone in this. Back in the day, many people who previously didn't care one bit for Daenerys suddenly ended up defending her or even stanning her.

Like, of course if somebody wants to root for the underdog, the first thing to do is rooting for the actual underdog. Season 8's underdog was Daenerys. Everyone and everything was deadly set against her from the moment she arrived in Winterfell. They constantly disrespected her, undercut her efforts, killed off or villainized her allies, snobbed her non-traditional upbringing, conspired behind her back. And all the while they always asked asked asked for more, nothing she was giving was enough.

In contrast, the Starks' and the North's actions were constantly justified or presented as good, even betrayal (which is a very huge deal in Westeros) or, in one instance, outright racism by the Northern people -this time fully intended by the production, rather than an unintentional outcome of some poor behind-the-scene choices.

At the end, Season 8's Starks were absolute gods who could do no wrong and were always in the right no matter what they did -except their bastard son, who was contaminated by the evil people's blood and has to symbolically kill that part of himself forever.

Well, guess what, people didn't like that. But the newfound Dany fans were perfectly consistent: they wanted the underdog to win, to overcome her hurdles, internal or external, and be happy at the end. If the underdog is Dany, well, then it's time for Dany to win.

It's Sansa stans that see everything in terms of How This Affects My Fave and are willing to bend over the narrative to get what they want. They are perfectly happy with a biased narrative and double standards, they just want it to be biased towards Sansa, and everything is fair game to them, including real life politics and vocabulary, with some hilarious results. For example: Sansa as the voice of the Oppressed Minorities is...a take, to say the least. Her world doesn't even have a prejudice against red hair, as it would have in real life.

And guess what else, this kind of Protagonist-Centered Morality is very similar to the one used by real life colonizers, especially in their "explorations". Not that it matters because this isn't a post-colonial story and it never will be. It's a story about a messed up Fantasy Medieval/Early Renassaince World with Dragons, heavily influenced by various periods of European history. The only vaguely post-colonial element are maybe the zombies-as-slaves metaphor, and I think it's more due to the fact that Martin was probably inspired by old horror Movies pre-dating the Romero ones. And who is liberating slaves in his story, again?

Anyway. 2019-2020 was a really weird time to be a Dany fan, and in hindsight it was crazy how much shit there was around a fantasy series with dragons. Surely five years later people are a little more normal, right? Right?

[starshipsofstarlord]

Bemused

summary -> daryl becomes bemused by y/n and her affections towards him. also the story of how daryl ‘found’ his vest (0.6k)

warnings -> fluff, prison era (season 3) set, unestablished relationship but there be feelings, blood, 3rd person

daryl dixon // norman reedus works main masterlist

She was an outsider, even though she had travelled all this way with them from Atlanta, all the group of survivors knew was her name, and that she could kill walkers.

Nowhere they had rested felt like home, until they cleared out the prison, and y/n began to open herself up more, they all did. This could be their haven from the horrors that lay outside the fences, all they had to do was maintain their respite when it came to collecting supplies, and enforce the barriers when it was needed.

However what Daryl had found peculiar was that she lingered around him like an angel, he stared shocked at her as she walked towards him, a spattering of blood painting her face.

They were all infected in this new world, it wasn’t news that they had just learnt, but the redneck felt his eyes grow wide as he looked at her, and she wore a smile, as though she hadn’t previously been fighting off the undead as she entered the manually opened gates.

“How was the run?” Daryl asked her as she tilted her head at him, shaking her head as she dropped her satchel to the ground, and she burrowed through its contents as though her life depended on it.

“I’d say pretty good,” she replied, feeling giddy and nervous as she finally retracted the fabric, holding the article in her hands. “I got you something, I saw it and I thought of you.”

Nobody had ever thought of him, Daryl grew bemused as she handed him the gift, examining it in his hands as the shock did anything but wear off. Merle had only brought him a present once, and that was when he was a kid, he had nothing of value apart from the crossbow that he carried everywhere.

“Ya didn’ have to.” He quietly spoke, turning the vest around, viewing the pair of wings that were created upon the back. It was almost ornamental, it felt wrong to wear something so meaningful in the bloodshed of the apocalypse, but y/n appeared to not want to take no for an answer.

“Try it on! I didn’t scavenge it for you to just gawk at it!” She encouraged him, watching as the brooding man grunted, and shrugged his crossbow off, y/n happily taking it from him as he pulled the fabric over his shoulders. “It fits perfectly!”

In the old world, a woman being so excited over the littlest of things would have annoyed him, most of the female population did, especially those that Merle ran after, but he found comfort in it. She wanted him to be happy! It was a first for him to experience, and he had many of those left.

The vest hugged his shoulders in just the right way, and a warmth ran across his stuttering chest as he looked at y/n with his deep cerulean eyes, wondering why she had thought of him and risked her life to get him something so simple yet unique.

“Yeah, ‘t does.” He found himself agreeing with her, a small smile scoping on his lips as he struggled to push her away. “Thanks.” He curtly nodded, unsure of how to handle such a kind situation, however y/n had other plans.

She, still swinging his empty crossbow in her right hand to the side, engulfed him in a hug, that had his heart pausing for a couple of moments. But he found himself wrapping her in his arms, never wanting to let her go.

He’d be okay if he could stay in the scene forever, holding her in his embrace, however it would never last. Nothing good ever did… but maybe, just maybe things would have a better outcome than he’d predicted in the past.

[bibiana112]

top 9 things wrong with akane kurashiki 🗣

Oh boy! My favorite topic, sure hope I don't go yapping about my headcanons on the subject in incredibly long-winded fashion

So yeah, uh so these are not ranked in any particular order teehee thanksies

1. The aforamentioned being resistant to the very idea of letting herself be happy and enjoy the moment without some higher goal to achieve which extends to policing others as well unless it is the perfect moment in which being happy is allowed which is totally not hypothetical like some sort of perfectionist sunk cost fallacy ass timeline hopping 99% of shifters stop jumping right before getting to the one true timeline where everything's fine type shit

2. Girlie did kidnap more than a dozen people and had to come to terms with and justify that at a very early age to boot so I don't think she'd have the soundest idea of boundaries or respecting other people's autonomy or right to privacy and ofc that wouldn't take an actively malicious form with her and it comes from her own trauma as well but like I still think she'd need to actively work on letting others close to her have a full sense of agency which would be suuch a painful learning process with Junpei specifically since he fears being used and abandoned again and lashes out about it

3. She's such a hypocrite that I don't think she thinks she has any agency in what she chooses to do with her life either though like the way she sees things play out in the future and the goals she sets up in her head are the way things Must Be thanks to her Divine Visions and because of the way the multiverse plays out like it is multiple choice that dillutes any weight she could give to her own individual actions, it's just free abdication of guilt that also leads to her play acting things out again and again while being carried by the conviction that it'll all lead to a better outcome than the current one without ever giving herself room to question if this defense mechanism she once used to survive is still necessary or just keeping her stuck in place forevermore. many such cases. I think this way of going about her life repressing any real wants and desires would only spell great things for a marriage (lying)

4. She's a great actress she's so manipulative, I bet she can cry on the spot if a situation calls for it and immediately walk off like nothing happened she got it down to a science on how to present herself in a way that would compel people to underestimate and want to protect her and I don't think she could break away from that habit so easily but not even only from the angle of wanting to keep people around her predictable and dancing to her own tempo but just I think being honest and vulnerable is not a skill she ever developed with the exception of Aoi who will already do anything for her so she doesn't need to have that fundamental lingering bit of mistrust like with everyone else including Junpei because he's Also a manipulative bitch when he wants to be and she knows this. girl who generally believes in the good of people but has not ever been accepted or fully understood or stayed anywhere long enough to grow roots burying herself in layers and layers of riddles while remaining deeply unwilling of being found alongside the answers

5. I believe she has not touched grass since she was twelve all she's known since the incident have been books, screens, and the grind. Like she goes out for bussiness reasons I bet but always with Aoi in tow and never having had the time to actually go out into the world on her own and do some self-discovery and very basic coming of age stuff like not even dating and stuff but either going to uni or getting a job or any sort of thing that could expose her to different people with different perspectives and interests and ways of fitting into the world that aren't crash keys manpower that her only dynamic with is assigning tasks to. She does not know how to act like a 'normal' person who has mundane worries and responsibilities at all she's never talked to one of those outside a saw trap and no wonder she gets a lowkey god complex on at least one timeline because she'd be so far removed from the average mere mortal experience in so so many different ways

6. There's no way spending 9 years of your life in a scenario where commiting any small mistake in the set up of something will actually kill you and your brother and your crush and a bunch of other people you have nothing against doesn't mess up with how one deals with small changes of plan or being forgiving of themselves and others for not being perfectly put together 24/7 she's lowkey more judgemental of Junpei's drinking than she's understanding of the concept of relaxing and coping I bet she's only heard those words in derogatory contexts. she has never taken the edge off one day in her life because she needs that edge sharpened enough to stab her enemies with and anyone not doing the same must be stupid and careless or something the right thing to do is of course obsess over your goals, ends only justify the means if she has exhaustively ran every possibility through herself a thousand times and if it's something that might lead to an awful future she'll still do it but not without torturing herself about the futility of it all a little bit

7. I've seen people write her as struggling with thinking she deserves good things after her crimes but honestly? I don't think she'd ever apologize, definetly not for the second nonary game but imo all the other stuff as well, I man she might performatively but while she would feel bad about it she wouldn't like let it get to the point where it warps her perception of herself into a bad person if that makes sense? I think she has her own reasons and her own morals and while her view of herself would be warped in many ways I do think she has a pretty hard line between good and bad just because everything that happened during her childhood showed her such extremes like she's not comparing herself to animal abusers or murderers who revel in suffering and any attempt of pointing out the grey area her actions fall under would be met with some big infodump about what even is morality or ethics anyways that ends in her saying how she's still never done anything wrong actually because she's long since rationalized all the harm she inflicts as being ultimately for the greater good and not something she can afford to ever regret since so much premeditation went into it. I don't think she fully grasps that she has victims of her own.

8. HER SENSE OF HUMOR WOULD BE SO FUCKED AKSHAK Like she probably shouldn't joke about cutting off people's arms when she has had the power to kidnap and feed bombs to people before I firmly believe her and Aoi would cope by developing very morbid humor and like they wouldn't just be saying they'll kill people for being annoying out in the wild but idk if many of the others would appreciate anything close to that as a joke again especially Junpei but tbh I think he would get too comfortable with the provocation and try to joke around about something messed up too and overstep. actually in canon hate that scene btw but it starts the other way around because he is jokingly fatphobic to her and she replies with jokingly violent which is honestly kind of childish of the two and god I love junepei (true) they'd be such a healthy and functional couple (lying)

9. She doesn't know she's autistic. Or any other thing she could conceivable fit into the criteria of and benefit from acknowledging, she has only done some surface level research and officially undiagnosed herself of everything because why would it apply to her she's too much of an outlier too smart too special she's busy girlbossing and girlbosses don't waste time reading mental health advice, besides more structural neuroscience that doesn't get into this uncomfortable feelings stuff is more interesting anyways. Aoi and her both think all the accomodations they worked into their routine are special them things and not something most people with autistic siblings would come up with, she's lucky the ratio of autism in this universe is higher than the average and that infodumps work to get her point across to the other person more than half the time. She has heard of therapy but it like actually couldn't help her unless there was one specialized in esper stuff and that wouldn't turn her in so she does her sciency things and whatever meds her or Aoi needs are entirely self-prescribed and situational and through the lens of her equating psychological trauma to physical trauma that should just get patched up when it flares up and be fine again after hydrating and eating a little

Hope it didn't feel like repeating myself kahsks I just love gushing about her problems

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

Nothing Permanent But Change pt.6

[ tw for violence, foul language, and fear ]

note: this chapter feels a bit rushed to me, idk. tried my best, hopefully it makes sense.

cross-posted on ao3

It was killing him, the way Roach smelled of Price now.

The omega had reappeared after two and a half days, his heat finally over and his eyes alert and bright once more, skin practically glowing, his mood bouncy. His natural citrus-and-hay scent had been overlaid with something heavily masculine, thick with the musky brand of ownership. It was the same smoky-sweetness of the captain’s cigars and aged brandy.

Millen couldn’t decide which of them to be envious of.

On one hand, he’d have given every single bag of his beloved Doritos just to spend five minutes with Roach, soothing the omega through his heat and finally sating the ache in his alphan fangs by biting down into Roach’s compact muscles. But that would also require Millen to take upon himself a role as a top, and that alone was enough to make him sink back into the shadows of his own fantasy and abandon it entirely.

No, he would so much rather be the one beneath Price. Millen wanted to be taken by someone bigger, someone mean that could manhandle him as they wished. He wanted to be pushed past his physical limits, to be used until any delusions of dominance were wiped clean from his mind, leaving only a blank slate, a dumb little mutt for somebody bigger and stronger to use as they wanted.

But another part of Millen’s mind whispered that Pride would take such good care of him. Millen would melt if the captain gave him just one feeble scrap of praise. A single “good boy” rumbled in that low London drawl would be enough to make the staff sergeant die a very happy man.

He was so hopelessly confused. One fleeting glance from Gaz was apparently enough to start his rut, and he was having sexual fantasies about his commanding officer, all while being desperate to make a good impression on the sole omega of the team. He didn’t know which to pursue. Gaz and Price had an open relationship, but did they really? Price might become angry if Millen made an advance towards the beta, or Gaz might be petty and jealous if Millen presented towards Price.

And what was Price’s arrangement with Roach; were they friends with benefits? Had Price bonded with the omega the way Ghost had with Soap, or was it only due to Price being the pack alpha, therefore the most convenient and biologically compatible option for Roach during his heat?

Millen’s head was spinning. He felt like he’d been chucked onto a merry-go-round boosted to hyper-speed, been handed a pistol, and told to play roulette. Any wrong move, one slip-up, and he was either flying into thin air or having his brains blown out. There were a thousand possible outcomes, most ending with a dishonorable discharge for fraternization, an instant transfer signed by the captain himself, or maybe even being put in a padded white room because he must be crazy for thinking he could ever have a chance with any of them. Only one ending would have him getting laid, unless it was in the cold, dark earth after being strangled in a web woven by his own crazed scheming.

The days passed, blurring one after another until nearly two weeks had managed to slip by unnoticed and Millen found himself laying in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. He realized that he had no idea what day or hour it was, and from the tight pain in his stomach, he hadn’t eaten yet today.

He sat up. His two roommates were laying on one of the beds, with Gaz sitting up reading and Soap snuggled up in his lap, snoring softly.

Gaz glanced over as Millen sat up. “Hey, have a nice nap?”

Millen blinked. “I don’t remember going to sleep.”

Gaz seemed amused by this. “Yeah, well, that’s generally what happens when you’re tired. You close your eyes and then it’s the next day.”

“What day is it?”

“Saturday. The fifteenth, I believe.”

Millen looked to the door. “Shouldn’t we be doing something?”

That made Gaz frown, and he tilted his head. “We’ve been off-duty for three days, remember?”

“Oh.” Millen rubbed at the back of his neck. He vaguely remembered Price telling them something like that. Vacation days, maybe. Had that really been three days ago? It felt more like that morning. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember now. Sorry, guess I was just groggy.”

“Somebody say grog?” Soap perked up sleepily, his mohawk looking like a drowned rat that had died upon the top of his head. “Ah could go fer a grog. Skip th’ water an’ jus’ make it th’ rum, though.”

“We aren’t drinking, you numpty,” Gaz laughed, ruffling the Scotsman’s hair. “I swear, you need help. Your liver is crying out for mercy.”

“Mah liver will outlast th’ lot o’ ye an’ dance on ye graves, too,” Soap grumbled, swatting away Gaz’s hand. “It’s ye ego that we should be watchin’ out for. It’s gonna get so big, swell up ye head so much that ye willnae be able tae fit through the door.”

“Wanker,” Gaz retorted, affectionately miffed.

“Pansy,” snorted Soap in reply, and then the whole thing resolved into a tussling match on the bed, heavy bodies wriggling skin-on-skin, almost pup-like in their excitement. It was so simple that it was almost surreal: two men, trained to kill and destroy, wrestling just for the fun of it. Not sparring, not fighting for their lives, but just throwing their own weight around to try and out-compete the other.

Gaz managed to use his extra inch of height to pin Soap down, only for the Scottish sergeant to roll them both violently from the mattress to topple down into the space between the wall and the bed frame. Gaz gave a squawk of surprise as Soap landed on top of him, crushing the breath from his lungs momentarily.

“Oh, god— you bloody lump, get off of me!”

“Nae, Ah’m rather comfortable ‘ere, ye ken.”

“Asshole, I swear—“

Soap tsked. “What ha’ Price told ye aboot cussin’?”

There was a scrabble of movement, before Gaz elbowed Soap just a bit too hard and Soap howled, biting down on Gaz’s shoulder. They both thrashed until Soap managed to squirm his way under the bed and out the other side, roll halfway across the floor, and then leap to his feet. Gaz sprang after him, chasing the other man through the open doorway as Millen watched with a scandalized expression.

There was a crash in the hallway, followed by the frantic scamper of footsteps as a group of rookies threw themselves out of the path of the twin tornados with sergeant’s bars.

Millen found himself alone once more. The room was suddenly far too empty. He fled after Soap and Gaz, hurrying down the hall as Soap chased Gaz and Gaz vaulted himself over a hapless private who had been barreled down in the fray.

The race took them skittering around a sharp turn and ducking through a pair of lieutenants, who just shook their heads, used to the antics by now. Millen nearly lost sight of his teammates, but he had been an excellent sprinter before he ruined his legs, and his body had seemed to decide that today was a good day, so he broke out into a run and quickly caught up.

Soap noticed Millen’s rapid approach, and he yawped in greeting. Abandoning Gaz, who was quite a ways ahead, Soap instead decided to prey upon the man with two busted knees and a bad back. He body-slammed Millen, sending them both to the linoleum floor. They pinwheeled over and over, Millen startled but delighted by the turn of events. He hadn’t romped since he was a child, his littermates having moved on to other things when he still wanted to rassle with them. Happiness coursed through him as he and Soap nipped and thrashed at each other, his scent opening up in a way that it hadn’t in years, flooding the air with pheromones of friend and play.

Soap responded in kind, headbutting his entire face against Millen’s cheek in an affectionate, almost cat-like gesture, the sergeant rubbing his own scent onto Millen and marking him as pack. Technically, their position was inappropriate— a superior officer allowing his subordinate to take control, but it didn’t seem very important at the moment. From what Millen had seen so far, the 141 didn’t seem too inclined to follow neither the rules nor societal expectations.

They continued to roughhouse, both of them floundering against each other, one sometimes managing to keep a bit ahead, only to be dragged back by the other. Gaz joined in again, and he and Soap ganged up on Millen, who yelped with gleeful dismay and kicked them both off so he could scurry away.

He ducked into the rec room, where Price was in his armchair with Roach on his lap, and Ghost reclined on the couch meticulously cleaning his favorite sniper’s scope.

Millen got about three steps into the room before Soap tackled him like a star rugby player. They were a blur of breathless laughter and flailing appendages.

Roach trilled excitedly, sitting up to watch. Price just chuckled to himself, like a father watching two of his children go at it with all the bloodthirsty vigor of Spartans.

Soap locked his legs around Millen’s torso, nearly crushing him. The xi wiggled and bucked, but failed to free himself, Soap’s sturdy hands planted on his shoulders.

Millen felt a flash of panic. He was immobilized. Soap, more muscular and more powerful, could hurt him. All of the trust that he’d built up over the past two weeks came crashing down and Millen wanted to be let go. He growled, but Soap mistook it for a bluff of aggression.

“Ah win,” declared Soap smugly, his breath warm against Millen’s cheek. “Knew ye didnae ha’ it in ye tae bring me down.

Millen jerked again, but Soap was holding fast, and he was too heavy, stopping Millen’s lungs from drawing a full breath. Desperation was beginning to close in around him, clawing at his chest and demanding he fight back.

“Soap,” began Price, catching a whiff of the change in Millen’s mood, but the Scotsman was already crooning to Millen in false sympathy.

“Ack, pur wee pup, are ye stuck?” Soap was enjoying every second of Millen’s forced submission, though he didn’t mean any real harm by it. The sergeant was simply a bit too self-satisfied, and when he went too far, it was difficult for him to realize it. “Ah thought ye might be able tae take me, being such a braw fellow as ye are, but Ah guess ye jus’ no match for the prowess of Johnny MacTavi—“

Soap’s words were cut off as Millen, teeth snapping, reared abruptly, shoving him off. Soap toppled backwards with a shout of surprise that ended up as a grunt as he hit the floor hard enough to knock the wind from him. However, his hand was still encircling Millen’s wrist, and so he ended up dragging the staff sergeant on top of him as Millen fought to pull back.

A black-grey blur flew across the room with a guttural noise of animalistic rage, and Millen only had time to catch a glimpse of Ghost’s hazel eyes blazing like twin hellfires before the lieutenant was flinging him off of Soap.

Millen thudded against the side of the coffee table, his head cracking hard against the polished wood. Ghost was already on top of him, balaclava shoved up to expose one gleaming jagged incisor. A cry of pain was wrenched from Millen’s throat as Ghost buried the fang into the junction where the British-Princípean’s neck met his shoulder joint.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Ghost snarled through a mouthful of blood and fabric as Millen’s yelps became progressively more panicked, and the murderous intent in Ghost’s words would haunt the younger man’s nightmares for years to come. “Nobody touches my Johnny, you sonuvvabitch— I’ll rip your motherfucking heart out, I swear to god—“

One big hand clamped down on the scruff of Ghost’s shirt and bodily heaved the lieutenant away from Millen. “Simon!”

It was Price. He forced Ghost’s head down against the floor even as the lieutenant spat and hissed like an enraged, feral cat. Price held firm, knee jammed against Ghost’s back.

“Simon, that’s enough!” the captain ordered, in a tone that meant that there would be serious trouble if he was not immediately obeyed. The command, coupled with a powerful flare of dominant scent from Price that would have any alpha — or san — regretting their life choices, was enough to make Ghost go rigid and then still.

“What the ever-lovin’ hell is wrong with you? Going fuckin’ feral on your own teammate? You ain’t no goddamn attack dog, Simon!” Price shook the lieutenant heartily, as if trying to rattle his wits back into place, then released him after several more seconds, and then stood and quickly moved to kneel beside Millen.

The newest member of the team was curled up in a ball, neck bloodied from Ghost’s bite but still instinctively presented in a last-ditch show of submission to try and save himself from Ghost’s unexpected fit of violence.

He was shaking uncontrollably, as stiff as a board, and small whimpers trembled their way from his lips. His breathing came sharp and fast, his eyes screwed shut; his body was stuck in survival mode, every primal impulse ingrained in the deepest reaches of his subconscious telling him to make himself small and unseen, and to remain that way until the danger had passed. It was the same defense mechanism that pups naturally fell into when feeling overwhelmed, a biological function that referenced a time long past when going unnoticed would be a small creature’s only hope against a predator.

Roach was already pressed against Millen, his designation calling him to comfort his injured teammate. He sniffed frantically at Millen’s neck, then reflexively recoiled at the acidic, vinegar-like scent of Millen’s terror. It drenched the air like a humid April storm, overwhelming to Roach’s sensitive omegan nose.

Price gently moved Roach out of the way as Ghost glared in Millen’s direction and then shuffled over to Soap. At that moment, Gaz peered in the door, and could only stare, as he had no idea why everyone was on the floor or why there was crimson smeared across Ghost’s face.

“What…” Gaz began, but Price caught his eye with a look that clearly said not now. “Kyle, take Roach to his room,” the captain said firmly, nudging Roach in Gaz’s direction. Price turned to Ghost and Soap with a much harder look. “Johnny, go to Simon’s quarters and stay there until I send for you both. Is that understood?”

Soap nodded, realizing that this was no time to joke or playfully argue against orders. He gently tugged Ghost towards the door as the lieutenant panted harshly in the pheromone-soaked air, clearly stressed out of his mind. The pair, quickly followed by Gaz and Roach, disappeared into the hallway.

Price exhaled, looking ten years older than he was. He glanced back down at Millen, who had yet to move from the fetal position.

Without hesitation, the captain scooped him into broad arms and lifted him up. Millen tensed and a fearful noise choked low in his throat, but Price murmured low reassurances, rubbing between xi’s shoulderblades and nearly grimacing at the tight knots of tension corded there.

“Shh, it’s okay, son. You’re alright. Ghost just got a little carried away, but I’ll sort him right out. Just settle, now. Breathe.”

Millen buried his face against Price’s neck, quivering pitifully, just breathing in the warm, cocooning scent of an alpha comforting one of the people under his care. Millen might not yet have been an official part of the pack, but he was hurt and in emotional shock, and that activated every protective bone in Price’s aging body.

Staggering just a bit from the exertion, Price carried Millen down and across the hall to his office, thankful that nobody was nearby to see him or the quaking xi. Once they were in his office, Price shut the door with his boot and ever-so-carefully laid Millen down on the long leather couch to the left of the desk.

Price had spruced up the once-barren room with pictures of the 141 on his desk, as well as a ‘world’s best dad’ mug, and the walls were heavy-laden with various plaques and a few scattered medals, a high school diploma, a bachelor’s degree, and a framed certificate of divorce, which seemed a bit passive-aggressive, but also strangely hardcore.

Price carefully draped the jacket he had hanging on a peg over Millen’s drawn-up form. The added warmth and the presence of Price’s scent seemed to calm the staff sergeant down enough to coax him back out of his traumatized state.

“Easy,” Price repeated, quickly getting out the small first-aid kit he kept for situations that, while certainly not by the same events, were of the same necessity— someone needing to be patched up. He soaked a wad of gauze in some hydrogen peroxide and carefully pressed it against the single deep bite wound.

Millen jerked, a gasp peeling from his lips as his eyes snapped open wide. “Ah—“

“Stay down.” Price quickly swabbed away the rapidly congealing blood, cleaning and disinfecting the mark in one go, and then pressed a thick bandaid over the area. “You’re lucky he didn’t bite a few inches further up, or you’d be dealing with a rejected claiming mark.”

Millen gazed blearily up at the captain. “Why did he attack me? What did I do?”

Price sighed, tossing the used gauze into the trash and pouring some hand sanitizer into his palm. “No bloody clue. He’s… you have to understand that he’s… affected. He’s dealt with things that no man should ever have to, and he just barely holds himself together on a good day. But that’s not to say he had any right to do what he did to you. Something must have triggered him. That wasn’t your fault. All you and Soap were doing was havin’ a bit of fun, nothing wrong with it. I’ll talk to the lieutenant, try and figure out what the hell went wrong in there. Until then, you stay away from him. For your safety and his, too.”

Millen tenderly touched the bandage on his neck. His skin felt hot and tingly where Price had touched him, and the sensation helped to distract him from the pain. His insides were both numb and burning all at the same time. “Y-yes, sir.”

Price eased down onto the couch beside him, patting his thigh. Hesitantly, Millen moved to rest his head against Price’s leg, and was rewarded with a calloused hand petting through his greying curls.

“Just relax for a while,” Price said, sounding tired. “You’re gonna be shaky for a bit, and I’m not haulin’ your arse back in here if you get the notion to try and walk out and then end up fainting.”

Millen felt a twinge of stricken pride at this, and he wanted to protest that he was not some Victorian maiden prone to swooning. He was a grown damn man. Except, at the moment, with the memory of Ghost’s sour, blistering breath on his neck still vividly uncomfortable in his mind, Millen didn’t feel very big.

A small tremor arced through him. How long would it have taken for Ghost to rip out his throat? Another five seconds? Ten? Two? What if Price had not intervened? Surely the lieutenant wouldn’t have actually killed him— at least, that was what Millen was going to be telling himself to stave off the images of what had happened that were already flashing unbidden across his inner eye.

He’d been like a rabbit being mauled by a wolf, unable to do anything but squeal, forced beneath someone who was lusting for his flesh in a way that Millen had never experienced before; it was his very lifeblood that Ghost had tried to tear from him. The most mortifying part was that Millen couldn’t decipher what exactly had triggered the attack, and so there was a possibility it would happen again—

“You’re gettin’ up in your head,” Price said gruffly. Millen looked up at him in surprise.

Price gave a weary chuckle. “You don’t think that after thirty years in the military, I don’t know how to spot a thousand-yard stare? I know what you’re thinking, but you don’t have to. If I hadn’t stopped Simon, then Soap or Roach would have. They’ve taken to you, wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

Millen swallowed hard. His breath caught, a surge of emotion overtaking him. He pressed his face against Price’s knee, flooded with uncertainty and adrenaline, and he wished he had the words to ask for Price to lock the door, because Millen was already cowering at the thought that Ghost might come after him to finish him off…

“You’re alright.” Price’s deep baritone broke him from the clutches of his own head. “He won’t get near you again, not until I’ve had words with him.”

“Promise?” Millen croaked out, his voice shaky. He felt like a fool and a coward for asking.

“Promise.”

Millen shuddered out a breath of wretched relief. He let his head fall back to a resting position again. He felt… safe. Price would keep him from harm.

He’d never been so certain of anything.

note: guys i promise ghost had a good reason for flying off the handles, pls don’t think it’s out of character 😭

[fantasyinvader]

In the past, I’ve talked about how Azure Moon and Dimitri got off the easiest when it came to the localization. Upon further reflection, I don’t really think this is the case.

Azure Moon and Safflower are meant to be opposites according to the devs. That Dimitri is supposed to evolve into a representative of oudou, while Edelgard is supposed to represent hadou. Dimitri’s rule is the one that’s supposed to be the better outcome, the benevolent ruler who people choose to follow whereas Edelgard uses her power to make people follow her. The former has positive connotations, in fact it’s used as shorthand for things like the right way to do things, whereas the latter is negative and it’s modern-usage identifies someone on a power trip like an assistant manager when the manager is on vacation. It’s pretty black and white, coupled with how Dimitri learns to become such a leader in repentance for his actions whereas Edelgard acts like she does nothing wrong and blames others.

But then the localization came. Edelgard’s ending gets toned down as the localization seems to have bought into her supports with Byleth about Byleth saving her from herself, and they try to scrub the fact Edelgard is a liar who manipulates everyone as to not call the ship into question. The renamed Safflower instead leads to a happy ending, justifying Edelgard when her actions were supposed to be evil and attempting to shift the game to a more ambiguous morality.

In essence, this has repercussions. Since the Edelgard we see in Silver Snow, Azure Moon and Verdant Wind are all now being treated as her slipping due to the lack of Byleth, people can say that the ideals she espouses in Azure Moon aren’t the same ones she started a war over. Rather, they are her ideals being corrupted and twisted due not having the proper support. The one time in all of Houses that actually explains what she’s actually fighting for, and the translation discredits it as Edelgard having lost her way and fully becoming the Flame Emperor when the original script makes it out that the Flame Emperor is her true face.

The original text was more straightforward, but people actually hate how Azure Moon reflects this. That rather than put on the appearance of the game being ambiguous, it calls out Edelgard’s ideals for what they actually are. And her final boss form links to Dimitri’s battle quote against Byleth in Safflower, that Edelgard’s path is the animal path and as seen by the Hegemon Husk Edelgard turns herself into a beast-unit in pursuit of power. It’s all rendered in such a way that people who play Azure Moon, and by extension Silver Snow and Verdant Wind, after Flower try to argue that Edelgard was written out of character in order to turn her into the bad guy.

Rather than understanding that Edelgard’s true character is who she is in the dark, they instead believe it’s the version of her that appears when under the spotlight.

As such, Azure Moon sticks out even more because it’s the one route in the entire game that focuses on what Edelgard is doing and the casualties left in her wake, resulting in players damning it because it’s not morally grey. Edelgard puts her ideals above the well-being of the people, and is willing to throw away her humanity not to free the people but for the power to rule the world. That’s what Azure Moon reveals about Edelgard’s true character, but people don’t want that. People instead want to believe that no matter what they do it’s right and justifyable when Dimitri’s the one who is presented as becoming the Savior King to Edelgard’s Flame Emperor when Edelgard was only ever meant to be the Flame Emperor.

[sukunasun]

TANGLED WEB | SPIDERMAN 2099 GETO SUGURU X READER

"i'm worried about you," you said to him then. it's not that there's anything wrong with him. flaky, yes. forgetful, sometimes. but it's starting to become increasingly clear that he's not all he seems to be.

suguru moves around his lab with soft, padded steps as the room is slowly lit by a hundred holographic screens. he's programmed it that way so it doesn't spook him. he hasn't had a good night's sleep in the last ten years. well, maybe forever actually, but he's stopped counting the all-nighters.

jumping from universe to universe does that to you, where time becomes a jumbled mess of past, present, and future. doesn't help that more of them explode into being each day. he's seen himself as a child in one and an old man in another, happily easing himself into his lazy chair while his beautiful wife grumbles on about how he needs to exercise more or his limbs will start creaking.

that one hurts a little too much he'll admit. would rather not think about a life where he'd been happy and perfectly content. instead, he taps on a few buttons by a console, sifting through screens, and moving windows out of the way with a swipe of his hand. news footage, maps, weapon inventory, plans and projects he's left on hold, some of them dating back years before he ever resorted to this life—bringing about order to chaos. there was no swinging from death-defying heights, no bank robbery chases and saving cats from trees, no...putting the multiverse back together, piece by fragmented piece.

his fingers grasp at the spandex of his mask, tugging it loose til his skin feels that familiar brush of fresh air. letting his hair fall down his shoulders and back, breathing a sigh of relief when he feels the tension leaving his scalp.

a video plays before him, lighting up his face from the dim. he remembers recording it at your wedding dress fitting. it wasn't necessary he told you, the dress, the rings, the reception, thinking he'd been above all these ritualistic traditions. now it's all he holds onto really, standing by the same spot, with the same video playing on a loop.

"sorry, it's been a while," he speaks, his roughened voice echoing around the walls. he makes a motion with his fingers and the video blows up in size. pixels painting a picture of your smiling face, a soft, love-filled gaze focused on him. or it seems that way. back when you still loved him anyway.

"hey," you say, a little self-conscious, "do we have to do this?" palming the material of your dress nervously, your engagement ring twinkling. he feels the phantom weight of the one he used to wear on his finger all the time. so much so that he rubs a thumb over the empty space, feeling only his suit there. 

he's removed his voice from the clip, only because it allows him to talk to you—at least some semblance of it—like he does now, "not if you don't want to...i just miss you is all," he replies.

"what kind of an answer is that?" his heart clenches at your laugh ringing through. a younger him would have said something funny when he should have been better with his words. should have told you how beautiful you were, how much you meant to him. but they always get caught in his throat. 

he's ignoring the fact that there are hundreds of other spidermans surrounding him behind these walls and any of them could waltz right in. watching the tough leader of spider society talk to an old tape of his ex-wife. they'd see just how...lonely he is.

two of them sit in a corner somewhere doing whatever task he's given them for the day. and they know there's nothing they could do about it. because he's got an oh-so-impossible plan of rewriting the canon. changing the outcome. for this is not up to technology or anything that isn't you and your wish to love him again.

and if he knows anything about multiverse travel, is that it's heartbreaking. how often he's lived in different shoes, loving a different you every time. multiple lifetimes, occurrences, origins, and resolutions. reliving the first time he held your hand, the first kiss, the first time he took you in his college dorm, how it was awkward and messy, but he'd cradled you in his arms when your body was a sweaty, blissed-out mess after, the expression on your face so rewarding he couldn't feel the sting of the scratch marks you've left all over his back.

you were hot to the touch one moment, a rousing sight, perfect in every way. and then you were cold, losing all colour, and grasping at him with your final breath seconds later. suguru realizes he was no longer in the comfort of an old junky room but on a street corner. buildings crumbling and him barely withstanding the weight of rubble on his back. his naked skin now in his suit drenched with blood. he swore it was just a glitch, but he saw with his very eyes, each of his timelines colliding and ripping apart, each tangent leading back to his inevitable loss. losing everything. losing you.

so they keep working on it. and he keeps watching you on a screen. shrugging and slumping his body and averting his eyes away because he can't bear to face you. always guilty and for what, he doesn't exactly know. can't pinpoint the moment he felt you slip through his fingers. only that he couldn't be the person you needed him to be.

"pathetic right?" he says, timing it right for the moment you reply with a—

"i forgive you," you say, hand reaching out to his. and he pauses the video there, placing his own hand against the screen and watching it glitch when his fingers make a hole through the display, plunging through and feeling only emptiness in return. at the very least, it buzzes around his form and it feels warm, but it's nothing compared to the way you'd hold him.

"promise?" he whispers, knowing you won't reply, and that the answer is already there. but he pulls his hand away, rewinds it, and starts all over again.

——————————————————

he still dreams about you. on the rare occasions he does manage to fall asleep.

but they're not scenes and sounds he's conjuring up, a random bunch of no-names his consciousness collected throughout the day, hazy blobs of red and blue. it's only ever one thing. a moment from his past he can't let go off.

vividly he sees you standing in the rain. in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tshirt. huff . huff.  his breaths are labored. here in the cold of night, they puff out in short gasps of white.

it all feels so real. in the flesh. in his suit. hanging upside down on what appears to be tangled strands of webbing in his grasp. body covered in black spandex, red covering the pads of his hands and feet, thick lines spanning across broad shoulders and chest, an angular pattern of a spider sitting right in the middle.

"so tell me spiderman...you've got a million eyes and ghastly fangs?" cupping his head gently, you're fingers move on their own accord. thumbs caressing over the material, feeling the flat planes and deep grooves of his features. a strong nose, soft cheeks...shaping and sculpting him in your mind's eye.

"go ahead," he whispers, his voice hoarse and ...desperate, "take it off and find out..." screw it, he thinks, he can have this, just this once. he's allowed to. it's just a dream anyway. spiderman is everything he's not. he's done more with the suit on than when it was left crumpled and untouched in his closet.

tugging at his mask, the hem starts to peel away from his neck. sliding and stretching over his throat. tucking folds moving upwards with every pull. pale skin revealed, now blooming red the moment you ease it over his adam's apple, over the cut of his jaw, and finally the edge grazes past his lips.

he gasps. mouth parting with every exhale, his fangs retracting and peeking from beneath, his chest rising and falling in time with his rapid breaths, his thumping heart. "thank you, for saving me," you whisper, before pressing your lips to his, feeling them part as his tongue slips inside the warmth of your mouth. fuck, this is exhilarating. even though it could just be from the last time he kissed you, the taste of you is unlike any other, forever etched in his memory.

——————————————————

"i'm worried about you," you said to him then. it's not that there's anything wrong with him. flaky, yes. forgetful, sometimes. but it's starting to become increasingly clear that he's not all he seems to be.

in that restaurant you like—the one serving the huge rice bowls and unlimited tea refills—you eyed the new injury he's gotten that week. he should have tried to hide it at least. but scarily enough, it was probably the best his efforts could afford. it'd been a bruise on his cheek, no bigger than a few centimeters, and knuckles so raw, so red, the skin splits down the middle of those nubby slopes.

"it's really fine," he brushes you off and you noticed the slight wince in his expression, giving it away. if he were better at acting you wouldn't catch how his arms rested on the table, placing most of his weight on it and shielding his torso from you. just underneath his shirt, two broken ribs sealed themselves back beneath skin and muscle at a snail's pace, a bullet wound in his shoulder closed up inch by inch. felt the dermis stitching itself back segment by segment in circular motions.

you sighed heavily. he didn't miss the disappointment laced in your features. "i think we should break up, you're...hiding things from me." a part of him knew it was coming, but where does he even begin. he's left these things out for a reason. spiderman doesn't have a place in all this. that...version of himself is his own burden to bear.

geto suguru was your boyfriend, unmasked and uncovered. the one who has a strict hair care routine and likes spending his time cooped up in a lab. less mad scientist and more aloof inventor who's dedicated his life to a cause. he's charming, intelligent, and sexier than he should be—"are you sure you're not lying to me about your job? i don't think researchers do pull-ups at work," you squeeze at the swell of his arms in wonder, palms pressed into his pecs, admiring the bulk, the brawn, down the curve of his slim little waist.

geto however, can only blush. chuckling to himself nervously whilst grateful the cut of muscles is enough to distract you.

you've mentioned it once or twice. that it's just a bonus he's so hot, the real appeal is where on most days he's dorky....disheveled. and so captivating. drooping eyebags kissing the steam wafting from his mug, coffee today, because he needs the extra boost. how he's scratching at his toothpaste-stained shirt while a blanket hangs over his head in the mornings. when warm light hits just right, you notice the alluring streak of silver hairs, shining against dark locks. swooping and silky. oh how does stress look this lustrous...this indulgent. trotting about his messy kitchen with a lazy, drowsy gait.

"where the fuck is it," he mumbles, noisily wading through last night's clutter for..."my thingy!" he exclaims. because everything's a 'thingy' at this hour. when his brain is still fuzzy and he's got no energy. he's brandishing what happens to be a teaspoon like he's found the holy grail. and yes, it is that important because "this teaspoon isn't like any other teaspoon, it's actually perfectly accurate in measuring the amount of sugar i like," he's so particular.

sometimes he goes back there, he'd swing past heavy traffic and crowded streets from below. a route he knows by heart. by instinct. awed and frightened faces alike, feasting their eyes upon a masked man and his reflected grief in skyscraping windows. regrets when he'd been fighting crime and it slipped his mind. he promises he'll be early from now on, hoping to see you waiting for him by that same table and maybe this time, you wouldn't want to end things.

[rustedleopard]

Well, I'm in a bit of a talking mood today, so I'll give you some of my Takes™ on his character. This is gonna be a bit incomplete/somewhat scatterbrained, so. Beware? I suppose. Also, I find it worthwhile to replay the game/watch a playthrough of all of the routes (or at least the Steamworks to the end of a Pacifist playthrough and the cutscene that plays in Zenith Martlet's battle to get a better sense for him) and draw your own conclusions as well.

Good Intentions, Bad Outcomes: Chujin Ketsukane is a character that only wants the best for everyone. That's one of the biggest things about his character: no matter his actions, good or bad, he only did them with the best intentions in mind. The problem is that he fixates so heavily on his good intentions that it sorta gives him the mental freedom to do what he wants as long as he thinks that the outcome will be "for nothing short of the best." It doesn't matter so much that his Axis robots posed a danger to everyone when he presented them to King Asgore, he's making these robots to protect monsterkind against humans because he believes that Asgore is inadequate for the task even if he becomes a god. Ceroba had to take on a job that she hates to provide for the family despite Chujin being a pretty capable structural engineer who could find a job elsewhere/charge for his services because Chujin feels like the best way to make things better in the Underground/for Kanako is to do volunteer work. Chujin built a massive elaborate mansion for his family to live in because he wants the best for his family, even though that blew through all of the family's savings. And while he was taken aback by how violently Axis killed Integrity, a child (which. if we take the pillar FUN value as proof of what happened to them, they got their head half-blasted off. Holy shit), that doesn't stop him from disobeying monster law by taking their SOUL and subjecting it to experiments because he has the greater good of monsterkind in mind. His dying wish (besides wanting his wife/family to be happy) is to task Ceroba with killing an innocent human and use their SOUL for his project and also rope another Boss Monster into his work because he believes that his Boss Monster Serum will be what saves everyone. And when Chujin experiences pushback (because even bad actions done with good intentions are still bad actions) it's not "Where did I go wrong?" it's "Why? Why why why? Why can nobody else see what I'm seeing? I'm only trying to do what's best for everyone! Why can nobody recognize my efforts?!"

Fear of Humanity: I brought it up earlier but Chujin has a massive fear of/hatred for humans, which also motivates a lot of his actions. He staked his whole career on building Axis robots to combat humans because he believes that even Asgore as a god wouldn't be able to protect monsterkind from humans. In his conversation with Martlet during the No Mercy Route Zenith Martlet boss fight, he calls humans "incapable of decency in any form" and cites war stories and the Snowdin Incident as examples of humanity's natural depravity (he doesn't speak as though he's had any personal experience with a human, which--if you remember that he came across Integrity once they were already killed by Axis--he might've never have even met a living human. If that's the case, all he has are very biased accounts of humans). He risked his life over and over again engineering his Boss Monster Serum--to the point that he killed himself--because he was so scared of humans and felt like monsterkind never would've stood a chance against them in war unless he found a way to turn them into Boss Monsters. One thing to note is that despite how Chujin sees humans as these horrible, wicked, morally bankrupt beings, he believes that a "pure" human SOUL would make his serum work. This presents a paradox: either all humans are as evil as he believes them to be and by telling Ceroba to find a "pure" human SOUL, he's setting his wife up for a golden goose chase OR it's possible for a human to be "pure," which flies in the face of his belief that all humans are evil and he's wrong about humanity as a whole. I bet the hypocrisy never even occurred to him though.

Pride over Reason: I've touched on this a bit but he is a very prideful person. Like with the "Good Intentions, Bad Outcomes" part above, part of why he doesn't give up on his Axis robots despite the pushback from Asgore and the disapproval of his coworkers is because he has this unshakable belief that he is right and everyone else is wrong and he's going to prove it. He eventually did prove that he was capable of building a functioning guard robot, but at that point his coworkers had lost respect for him and he had lost his job (the final Axis Model that Chujin showed to Asgore was 11? 08? I don't recall which one specifically, but it was not the Model 14 that Clover deals with in the Steamworks. So that, coupled with the robot parts in his offices, means that he likely worked on more Axis Models at home. At that point, who is he doing it for besides himself? Asgore won't hear him out anymore and he's no longer employed at the Steamworks. He refuses to accept that the task might be beyond his capabilities). He lies to his wife about getting fired from the Steamworks by saying that he retired because he doesn't want her to think less of him. He repeatedly experimented on himself with the Boss Monster Serum despite knowing it was dangerous because he believed so hard in the idea that he was right about his theory even being possible that he ignored all the warning signs. And when his serum started killing him, he blamed the SOUL he used for being inadequate and "impure" instead of questioning his methodology. So confident was he about being right about his theory, that he opened the gates to the personal hell he threw himself into--the mess that could've died with him without anyone else knowing--and led his wife (and unknowingly his daughter) right into the heart of it.

Keep in mind that Chujin doesn't show these aspects of himself easily. To pretty much everyone else in the Underground, he comes across as a nice guy, altruistic, kind to a fault, etcetera. Think of how he's perceived as like different faces of a die (🎲 <- this type of die) where each person he interacts with only sees one face. To Kanako, he's her wonderful dad who made her bed and video games and always tried to provide everything for her, even his own life as a Boss Monster. To Ceroba, he's her loving husband who's saving the Underground and is practically flawless. To Martlet, he's her very kind mentor and practically a father figure. To his coworkers at the Steamworks, he was always a bit hopeless. To Axis, he's his very kind creator. To the people he helped, he was kind and selfless. To Asgore, he's the reckless guy who set his child's grave on fire. Unless you're digging into him and his character, you'd likely never see his core.

[oasisofgalaxies]

what would be the happiest possible outcome and worst possible outcome for rhodes’ character arc?

GOOD QUESTION

(Ari, mentioned here, belongs to @thegreatbaerri <3!)

Best outcome:

Rhodes, Ari, and Caboose are all reunited. They stick together, probably integrating into the Reds and Blue’s posse during and after Chorus. Rhodes somehow avoids being repossessed by the UNSC and gets to learn to live life as a person and not a tool. Not everything heals, of course, but she gets better. She gets to live with her siblings, and with old and new friends. She slowly comes into herself, she smiles more, she laughs really loudly. There’s a light in her eyes now that wasn’t present for decades. She gets to live. She gets to be happy. She’s going to be ok.

If we’re doing SUPER self indulgent stuff, South somehow lives too. I love me a good “right person, wrong time” when they finally get to the right time. Rhodes goes through the ordeal of figuring out what to do with romance emotions and how to process them and, oh god, act on them. She is teased mercilessly for this. Rhodes and South go on a fancy date, realize that kinda shit blows, and then leave halfway through the meal in order to chase each other through the woods instead. They swear off dumb stereotypical dates while laughing at how dirty their nice clothes got from the forest. Life is good.

Worst outcome:

Whatever happens, she does not get to die quickly. Her suffering is prolonged.

Maybe she does find out Ari is her little sister, maybe when it’s too late. When Ari wasn’t so lucky, when the MOI crash wasn’t so merciful, when Ari lost more than just her arm.

Maybe she never went to Chorus, maybe she never found Caboose. Or, possibly, she did. And it all went wrong. Maybe she’s left with nothing but a smoldering ruin that she survived. Countless sets of armor and discarded weapons. Her friends. Her brother.

On the ruins of those places, the UNSC is finally able to locate her. They land on the ground, prepared for resistance.

She goes willingly.

There’s nothing left for her here. There isn’t anything left.

She lives out the rest of her days as a weapon, cold and maybe a bit cruel. Shes an empty husk of a woman, gutted and hollow. The way she walks, the way she doesn’t talk, it’s almost as if a machine had replaced her. There’s nothing behind that visor, not anymore.

Not anymore.

[magickinthewillows]

This reading is for @starburstsobsessions

The main theme of the new year:

You may find yourself with so many new ideas, so many new opportunities for you to explore. This may make you feel like a child in a candy shop, so giddy and going with anything that’s in front of you without much thought. Sadly, while being presented with so many new ideas and opportunities for most would make them feel happy, you have found that exploring so many different opportunities has made you feel as though you’re losing yourself. Where should you go? What should you being say yes to, and what should you be saying no to? That’s exactly why The Hanged Man (reversed) is in this part of the reading, as it encourages to pause for a moment and look at things from a different perspective, to allow yourself to align with the opportunities that are right for you. With The Strength card in this reading, too, it’s either telling you to offer yourself some compassion, self-forgiveness for blindly chasing after random thoughts and ideas, that there’s nothing wrong with exploring new possibilities to learn more about yourself and what is right for you or it may be telling you that the right choices will align with just causes, causes such as humanitarian concerns.

Departing energies from last year:

The Ace of Pentacles represents a new financial or career opportunity, manifestation, and abundance. I asked a follow up question for this part of the reading, to understand why those energies from last year are departing this year and this is what was said: It’s been an exhausting journey, where at times you’ve felt like giving up, but through hard work and a set routine you’ve been able to either achieve a goal or start working towards it, which is why this manifestation energies from last year are departing this year – you’ve encountered a new financial or career opportunity.

And for whatever reason, I’m getting a strong emphasis on ‘routine’. You’ve either done something new last year or created a routine that allows the new financial or career opportunity to flow much easier into your life.

Talents you will be exploring this year:

I have a feeling that this may be related to the main theme of 2025 for you, which is to be able to see through the cunningness or deception of others, to point this out to them even in a way that is compassionate to not only you but to them as well. There are a lot of emotional topics here, with the 4 of Wands (reversed), 7 of Swords (upright) and King of Cups (reversed), that suggests working through difficult situations with others and coming to an agreeable outcome or working with inner demons and troubles that, with the 4 of Wands (reversed) drawn here, suggests healing and growth from. There is something that you’re ready to let go of now.

Future Opportunities:

You have been faced with some difficult decisions, which you have been almost avoiding as you attempt to weigh up the options, but that time is coming to a pass as you feel compelled to move, perhaps coming to understand what the right decision/s is for you (could this relate to the same choices that are present for you in the ‘main theme’ part of this reading?)

Upcoming obstacle:

There will come a time this year, if it hasn’t already started to occur, where you will start to recover from financial loss. Sadly, it’s put an emotional burden on you, perhaps from working so hard to come out of financial hardship with a lot of hard, concentrated work. This time, while being difficult both emotionally and physically, has helped to shift your goals around and realign with what truly matters to you.

How to deal with the upcoming obstacle:

With the 8 of Swords (upright) and the Ace of Swords (reversed), it’s important to question any negative self-talk or negative beliefs that you’re having, to really look at anything that you feel may be making you feel trapped or restricted. Perhaps you’ve fallen into a habit of spending when you feel sad, lonely or bored? Maybe it’s a belief that because of who you are, the situation that you’re in, or not having the “right” skills and experience that you can’t improve your financial situation? It’s important that you be honest with yourself, to release the negativity and concerns that you have surrounding money, and as previously mentioned, look at how you can shift your goals around to reach a better outcome for yourself and to realign with what truly matters to you.

As all three cards to be pulled out during this section of the reading are sword cards, perhaps it means that there’s an overbalance of intellect (thinking) and power? In order to restore balance, and help you to overcome this obstacle, perhaps it’s important to invite more spirit and feeling into your life? Perhaps sitting quietly with your thoughts (swords) and paying attention to your intuition (spirit and feeling) can help you?

How to achieve your goals and dreams this year:

In order to achieve your goals, it may be important to look outside of yourself for new knowledge and answers; with places such as spiritual gatherings or educational institutions. However, it’s important that when looking outside of yourself for answers that you do so with balance, letting your own intuition be heard, and to question the information that others are giving to you. Where do their answers come from? What beliefs might they have that might influence their answers and what they believe is right for you? I also got a sense of ‘being careful’ when I pulled out the 6 of Cups (reversed) and I believe that this might have to do with looking to the past, as I sense that you’re going through some emotional and psychological healing at the moment. Look to the past to see what lessons you can learn, if there’s any patterns of your or others’ behaviours that can be changed (such as inviting in the wrong people) but don’t let yourself become trapped by your past. There are better, brighter things to look forward to in the future.

End of the reading.

As you can see, there’s a lot to this reading so I appreciate your patience during this time. I hope that the reading has helped you, and if you’d like another reading then please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. It would also mean a lot to me if you could message me what resonated with you about the reading (or any other information), as I’m always looking to improve my readings.  I’m debating whether to ask for a simple donation for my readings in the future, so please let me know if you’d continue to support me if I do.

[caramelmachatwo]

"Just a little too soon."

ooooo another buzz album analysis, blue moon this time

Niki revealed that this was an anthem for "right person, wrong time", though the lyrics make a lot of sense and point towards that direction— there's more to it, there always is.

I know nothing about retrogrades or moon cycles, so I had to search things up before writing this, please spare my soul and this butchered attempt in connecting the dots. Don't take my assumptions as facts please, I don't want to be cursed.

People keep saying it's about losing someone that is rare, like a blue moon, I don't think 2-3 years is that long, completely disagreeing to what NASA says. But, when I think of it high school is also that long and a lot can happen during it. Saying this as a senior in high school, time completely flies.

I think it's a song about falling out of love from frequent quarrels, this "perfect" person that we ought to adore because you don't meet people like them often in our lives, thus we tend to cherish them more than others. Leading to tendencies that we create excuses for them to stay special even if they grow out of it, "I've never been worried 'bout my hands getting dirty, but you wash yours of any ownership." They're basically admitting that they are ashamed to be with you, no, appalled with the thought they could be yours. You don't say that to someone you love.

Of course, I had to look into the star signs: Niki is an Aquarius while the other is a Cancer (I did extensive research on this and their compatibility, they are NOT compatible). Niki said that this song is a sister song to "Pandemonium" which means chaos, a wild uproar. "Dying in the dark, it's written in the stars" as the bridge sings, looking up again in the sky and searching for clues that there was an end before it even started, "Was it written in the stars that we'd meet a little too soon?" blue-moon goes. In every person that we meet and end up loving, we hope to be there for their present and future. We hope for them to tell us more about their past, hearing stories that show what kind of person they were, reliving all the versions of they were before you met them, and no one says it, but we all pray that we meet the people we love in their best state. Not for our own convenience but we want them to be the happiest when we enter their lives, and it doesn't have to be all what you imagine "best" would be. It could simply just be being ready, ready to lose, ready to receive. The happiest is when they are able to let you be part of it, letting themselves be vulnerable in front of you, let themselves be who they are; may it be a part of themselves from the past or seeking out who they want to be in a few years. Best is already you, with or without fear, just willing to take the fall or finish with some bruises. Clearly, this person in the song wasn't in their best, not yet. And the song expresses colossal loss, wondering how would things turn out if they met on a different moon, another version of themselves. A version that they were both ready.

Too bad it was a little too soon :)

ps. Personally, I think there's no best version of yourself, you can't say it until you're settling down and dying, there are only ups and downs. You are not you're best only when you're happy, you can be in your best and still crumble into bad habits. Be depressed yet still thrive, there's no limit into saying what is or what isn't, and I guess that's one thing to keep living for as time goes. So, don't rely on chances, people, or astrology to determine how outcomes will be, let yourself be free from practicality, it could be once or an ungodly times where you have renounced yourself but that's what we are. And you choose whether to stand up, die in it, or my recommended option would be to start again. Let it be that.

[victory-valkyrie-01]

Tonyia X Ennil, After War Gundam X

TBH I may have been thinking about After War Gundam X again and just want to talk about these 2 (also ig it is pride month).

also firstly ik this in show is presented as a friendship and there's nothing wrong with that but I just like reading it the other way and I don't normally do shipping (also idk how much of it airing in 1996 affected how this was portrayed) (also my pfp is literally a lesbian with her own Yuri series so I might be bias)

also spoilers for After War Gundam X

We start their journey in an episode that has both a more romantic focused episode for both the Tiffa-Garrod and Sara-Jamil which with Tonyia-Ennil also getting the focus could suggest some overlap in intention.

After their initial meeting this is how Tonyia goes to meet Ennil at a bar, an appearance the show itself identifies as more befitting a date, than your typical hang out.

during this meeting Ennil gets to express her current situation and worries about her new life, which prompts Tonyia to ask her to join her as she wants to travel with "someone like you". Again this can be taken in several ways and I prefer the Yuri way. It should also be noted that Ennil seemed to be happy and maybe even relieved to accept the offer, before her boyfriend interrupts and she realizes the ship in question is the Freeden.

despite her running off Tonyia still holds hope that Ennil will actually join them and she seems so genuinely sad to learn she isn't coming.

this is reinforced by how she reacts to the reveal that the mobile suit that is attacking Freeden is Ennil.

Also just the shots from both of their perspectives of them looking at each other and how their previous lives are driving them apart, something they had previously talked about in context of relationships (which is because Ennil seems to trust Tonyia with her past more than her current boyfriend).

Seemingly the only reason the Freeden isn't sunk here is because Ennil would not fire on Tonyia, it was more a mission of confirmation.

Just as a reminder, this is the first episode these 2 actually interact with one another and their is already so much built up between the 2 of them.

We don't get any content between these 2 for a few episodes, apparently this show is more about war and apparently are newtypes and Gundam pilots are the main crew or something not my Yuri ship, in which Ennil is willing to sell out the whole Freeden crew except Tonyia, her safety is her literal only condition for helping the Federation.

And when she does end up helping them escape look how happy to both see Ennil again and have her come to the rescure Tonyia actually is.

And Tonyia apparently asked Ennil to join again, still doesn't want to let her go.

and when Ennil rejects this offer for personal reason, similar to why she originally declined, both women don't seem happy by the outcome. Tonyia is actively trying to hide and ignore the sadness she is feeling as a result (ik Tiffa says friend but well...), while Ennil seems to feel somewhat guilty for leaving and her stated reason is because of it being the Freeden implying she may have stayed with Tonyia had it been anywhere else.

When Tonyia does actually acknowledge how she feels about Ennil leaving she compares her feelings to Tiffa who is currently missing her boyfriend/crush(doesn't matter to much), and this is during the part where the boy Tonyia ends up with is acting similar to Garrod but her loneliness isn't due to that its Ennil's absence which is an interesting choice.

speaking of the guy Tonyia actually ends up with Ennil has a reaction to his proposal that legitimately got me pause the show to wonder if this was really going to go Yuri for a second, "I can understand how he feels" is a very interesting thing to say to your bestie getting proposed to. Like ik she says after its more to do with the idea of having no regrets before risking your life but still.

And then we get to their final scene together, firstly they're going to be neighbours.

And then they both end the show ditching the guys and driving off towards the hill together, just the 2 of them.

Even if it wasn't intended to be Yuri I still really like this subplot and After War Gundam X as a whole.

If you like Gundam it's definitely worth a watch both as a fun show with good characters as well as having interesting things to say or reinforce about the UC timeline and themes without actually being in UC itself.

[esshetic]

June Bloom

As I pen this down from my cozy hotel room, perched with a mesmerizing view of the vast Atlantic Ocean, in the heart of Agadir, Morocco, I am consumed by the undeniable energy that this June's astrological transits bring with them.

The energy and intuitive guidance that this month's celestial movements bring are far removed from the traditional psychic or paranoia-ridden predictions that old patterns might suggest. Instead, they are firmly rooted in the present, in the reality that is here and now. I encourage you to take a step back at the beginning of this week, take stock of your situation, and ask yourself some important questions - is there something missing in your life? Or is it all just a perception and there is nothing actually missing? Are you content and happy with the way things are? If not, why? If yes, can you come to terms with this status quo and permit it to change, if need be?

Welcome to June - a month that is teeming with activities, much to the delight of Gemini. This month, you might feel overwhelmed, as if you're juggling an unimaginable number of things all at once. Yes, it does seem like it’s nonstop for the majority of the Gemini season and you wouldn't be wrong in feeling so. The calm only descends after the summer solstice, when the sun transitions into Cancer. The Cancer season, by the way, carries with it a unique charm, but for now, let's stay centered on navigating the rest of the Gemini season in June.

The energy during this time is too dynamic and volatile to be confined to a single viewpoint or approach. I perceive the Gemini season as a fast-flowing stream that bubbles and rushes, making it nearly impossible to grasp what's happening in its entirety. There are countless narratives, perspectives, and situations unfolding simultaneously, making it arduous to pinpoint and capture them. It's more about being malleable and adaptable to what is, rather than trying to predict, and even more critically, control the future.

Embrace the spirit of the chameleon.

Remember that opinions are not set in stone and are bound to change. Gemini, often deemed wishy-washy, thrives in the gray area, effortlessly seeing both sides of the coin and camouflaging into one side depending on the situation at hand. It is about understanding every point of view in any given situation. Do not let the constant flux and changing faces drive you to the brink of madness.

The new moon in Gemini on the 6th of June brings with it a certain madness. Why does the energy building up to this new moon feel like a full moon culmination?

The humble dandelion is a symbol of hope. I have a tradition of selecting a photo that resonates with the season for me, and this time, I chose my tranquil view and an image of a dandelion, which rings true as a beacon of hope. Despite all the chaos and madness that currently engulfs the world, the dandelion stands as a reminder that there is always hope for a brighter, better future.

For the Sings

Gemini, June will be a significant time for you where your voice will matter, and your presence will not be overlooked. You will not only be seen but also heard.

Cancer, for you, June will be a month where worries are put aside, providing you with a chance to relax and enjoy the summer's warmth.

Leo, your June will be filled with strategic planning and preparation. This is a perfect time for you to get ready for future endeavors.

Virgo, June might be a bit of a worry for you, as you might find yourself dissatisfied with the outcomes. However, remember that not all results are final.

Libra, June will feel like a victory parade for you. The stress you've been carrying will lift off your shoulders, leaving you feeling lighter and happier.

Scorpio, brace yourself, as June might be a bit hectic for you. It might feel like you're fighting for your life, but remember that challenging times often bring the best out in people.

Sagittarius, for you, June will be a time to reflect and relax, offering a perfect balance between introspection and leisure.

Capricorn, June will open new doors for you, providing opportunities for you to move forward with big ideas and strategies. Be open to new ventures.

Aquarius, your June will be a mix of emotions - sometimes sad, sometimes mad, sometimes bad, but overall, you will find reasons to be glad.

Pisces, June might be a bit of a juggle for you, especially when it comes to managing your love life. Remember, you are in demand and loved by many.

Aries, June might seem hard and filled with grief spirals for you, but remember, when you hit rock bottom, the only way is up.

Taurus, June will feel like a victory parade for you, with rewards and recognition coming your way.

Remember, this is just a quick intuitive guidance. If it does not fully resonate with you, that's completely okay!