#it's nice to see the hypocrisy pointed out once in a while

[aashi-heartfilia]

The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao

*light novel spoilers*

I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)

And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?

POISON

She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.

And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.

I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.

And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.

One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.

So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.

Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:

She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.

Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.

It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.

And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.

They both are hypocrites.

And they both refuse to accept their feelings.

In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....

Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"

"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”

Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.

Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.

“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”

It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.

Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.

The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.

More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.

Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.

Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.

Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.

It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....

She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.

Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!

So, she got interested in poison.

Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.

And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.

Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.

But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).

Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)

Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.

~Sunshine

[alexlwrites]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞

(<<< part two)

You were on a date. Or so Jungkook believed.

He was skulking outside yet another coffee place, as you seemed to have a financially unadvised obsession with those. And although it might’ve seemed so to any passers-by, he was not stalking you.

He just so happened to stumble upon this place where he knew you usually had a chocolate cappuccino on Tuesdays at around 3 in the afternoon, as you didn’t have classes after 2 on Tuesdays and Fridays. 

All of that knowledge had been acquired through days of observing and cataloguing your quirks and traits. Jungkook had decided upon further introspection that just his charm and thick, veiny arms would not be enough to lure you back into his bedroom and so he decided to do some research. His findings were both surprising and not at all: you were fucking weird.

There was the caffeine addiction, the concerningly decorated messenger bags and your fixation with small fuzzy animal figurines - which he had confirmed with his little sister were called Calico Critters and, according to the expert appraisal of the nine-year-old, your collection was worth quite the money… His investigation had brought him many findings and eventually led him here: your third favorite coffee shop where you seemed to be laughing way too hard at some guy’s probably lame jokes. Couldn’t be better than his, Jungkook thought bitterly. You had laughed way harder at your… Well, one date.

Jungkook was once again taken by irrational anger, as that was all you seemed to invoke in him. How come he was climbing up the walls of his tiny dorm, haunted by the thought of your psychotic self and you got to move onto the next man (or should he say victim?) as if your night together had never happened? He felt used!

He was so close to an epiphany with that particular thought, he could feel self-actualization kissing his piercings. Alas, Jungkook was not interested in facing his own hypocrisy that day. No, he only craved confrontation and so he stepped into the cafe with squared shoulders and puffed chest like a New York pidgeon on its way to the last breadcrumb.

“Y/N” he called while approaching your table.

Your tired eye roll sent a shiver down his spine, but with you he could never tell if it was annoyance or arousal. 

Most likely both.

“Jeon” you answered in a clipped tone “how unsurprising and unpleasant to see you yet again. This is Jihoon” you gestured towards the man sitting in front of you, watching the whole interaction with mild interest “Jihoon, this is my stalker.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your little date” the way Jungkook spat out the last word made it clear that he was not at all sorry. “Also, I’m not a stalker.”

“That’s exactly what a stalker would say.” Jihoon extended his hand with an amused smile “So nice to meet you, Mr. Stalker. And please, don’t worry about our date” you snorted, making Jungkook feel like he was being left out of a big joke “this is just a couple of cousins catching up. You can still stalk her freely, although I don’t see why you would. Is it like a romantic gesture?”

“He’s already obsessed with me as it is. Don’t encourage him or I’m gonna end up in his basement.”

Jungkook felt the sudden urge to bite his fist and let out a five minute long suffering groan. Of course you were related. That look of unhinged superiority could only run in the family.

“Jeon, can I talk to you outside for a second?” You asked, but it seemed like an order as you pulled him away by his arm, Jihoon waving behind as you left the cafe.

Were you about to whoop his ass, he wondered. He didn’t doubt for a second that you could.

“This has gone too far now, Jeon” You said as soon as you were out of earshot from your curious cousin. “It was funny for maybe five minutes watching you throw a bitch fit but I’m tired of being afraid of opening my fridge at night and find you lurking behind the milk. You’re in my classes, my favorite coffee shops, the library and God knows you’re not reading in there… I even had to learn your name and for what?! What do you want from me? A therapist recommendation? A fucking exorcist?!”

“I want to take you out again.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“I hope you mean take me out with a gun and put me out of my misery!”

“I want to take you out on a date” he repeated resolutely.

“Why?! You said it yourself, you don’t have feelings for me, we have nothing in common… Haven’t I treated you shitily enough? Aren’t you loved at home?”

Jungkook scoffed. “We have plenty in common!” he said with very little conviction.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well…” he scrambled his brain for something believable, because he doubted you would believe he also enjoyed reading mildly erotic retellings of Greek Mythology in the school yard, like you so clearly did “That movie theater on Fifth Street that you love. I also love that place.”

“You do?”

“They did a marathon of a couple of Marvel movies.”

“They only show foreign movies.”

“Well, that one happened in Wakanda, so… Foreign.”

You looked at him like he had just said the stupidest thing on earth. Honestly, knowing himself, he probably did.

“First of all, it’s weird that you know my favorite movie theater and it does nothing against the stalker allegations.” Jungkook just shrugged “But fine, if we got so much in common like you say, why don’t we go watch a movie tomorrow? Mind you” you pointed a stiletto acrylic nail at him before he smiled too hard “this is not a date. This is a friendly get-together. After all, we have so much in common, right? Surely we’ll be the best of friends, like rats and the plague.”

It was not what Jungkook wanted, but being your friend was better than hiding behind the shelves of the university library, so he agreed. This was just a start and the perfect one at that. What could be better than a movie date, right?”

***

Jungkook had been crying for the last 50 minutes. When you suggested watching a movie about a dictatorship, he thought it was going to be a war movie filled with action, like Wonder Woman or A Bug’s Life. Instead, he sat through the extremely emotional retelling of a family who lost its dissident dad to the military-forced disappearances and bawled the whole time, because, hey, he loves his dad, okay? Meanwhile, you were stuffing your face with popcorn and holding back a maniacal grin, patting his head softly like he was a lost child at the mall. 

When the movie ended, credits rolling down the screen, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and try to wash his tear-streaked face. Ok, so crying (sobbing, really) at the movies was not the sexiest move he could’ve pulled, but surely an intellectual woman such as yourself liked an emotional man, right? His manly empathy probably got him some brownie points, no?

“So” you started once he left the bathroom, dabbing at his eyes with a tissue “Did you enjoy the movie?”

“Ye-yeah, I did. I mean, it was kind of sad, I guess. Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, I had already seen it.”

Jungkook stopped “What?”

“Oh, yeah, I downloaded it illegally months ago when it first aired in the Venice International Film Festival but I wanted to see your reaction. Honestly, it was so worth it.”

Jungkook had never in his life had met a more infuriating woman than you and he had a younger sister with a mean streak. Everything you did and said sent him into a spiral of frustration that had him testing the enamel of his teeth from so much grinding. “Do you enjoy watching grown men cry?” he said through a fake gritted smile.

“Yeah, don’t you? This could be one of the things we have in common! Do you want to invite your friends next time?”

Honestly, that was not that bad of an idea. Jimin and Taehyung had both been on his face for the past few days, making constant fun of him for his useless attempts at wooing you, so Jungkook would really enjoy some revenge. Maybe he could film it and become TikTok famous, maybe… Jungkook shook his head. He was not about to agree with you!

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked, trying and failing to hide his annoyance at your constant nonchalant teasing “I thought this was a friendly hang-out. Why are you being a brat?”

You raised your brows and crossed your arms and Jungkook just knew he was about to get the verbal beatdown of his life. Even the weed-smelling teenager sweeping the carpet of the movie theater seemed to know that, as he quickly swept his way into the broom’s closet with a wince. “Trust me, this is not me being a brat yet. This” you gestured towards the both of you with a menacing finger “is me being friendly. This is me being friendly to the guy who has been following me around campus for a week, disrupting my studies and my schedule. This is me being friendly to the guy who has not been able to take a hint so clearly in his face that even a blind Sherlock Holmes would say it’s fucking elementary. This is me being friendly to the man who created a narrative in his hair-filled head where he slept with me, left me and got annoyed and offended when I didn’t want to do it again. This is as friendly as I can get with bored, spoiled men-children who seem to have nothing better to do with their days besides annoying women into going out with them to fill a void they refuse to address in therapy. This is all the friendly you’re going to get from me, Jeon.”

Silence reigned over the movie theatre and even the popcorns seemed to stop popping to listen to the on-going drama. It was hard to find something to say after being emotionally stripped naked like that on a Wednesday, but Jungkook had not yet learned to take an L and shut up. 

“Look, I get that I may have given you the wrong first impression” you scoffed and seemed to be ready to go for round two “but! BUT! People can change, can’t they? I get that I’ve been pushy and I shouldn’t have called you crazy…”

“That was actually the one thing you got right.”

“But I’ve been working on it! I found out the things that you like, I watched that sad as fuck movie for you, I even got you this!” he reached into the pocket and pulled out the last thing you expected from him.

A tiny bunny figurine with a baker's hat.

“Is this a Baby Bakers Edition Calico Critters Bunny?” you asked, voice half awe and half confusion.

“My little sister said they’re limited edition. See?” he pushed the small bunny into your hand, watching you cradle it gently “I’m trying out here. What is it going to take for you to give me a chance?”

You toyed with the miniature’s ears, petting it gently as you frowned deep in thought. 

“A good reason” you answered at last. 

“What?”

“You asked what’s going to take for me to give you a chance. That 's it. I need a good reason. When I ask you ‘Why do you want to go on a date with me?’ I need you to give me a good reason.” You pocketed the bunny and stared deep into his eyes, an unsettling feeling growing in his chest “I don’t want to be some sort of point you’re proving or a challenge you’re overcoming. So I want you to give me a good reason why you want me.” you started walking away, leaving him confused once more “When you have that, then we can talk.”

(part four >>>)

°•. ✿ .•°

✿ My taglists are open! Click here to be added <3

[this-acuteneurosis]

One thing that struck me when I started dlb was the care that is taking to putting focus on female characters' internality in a way that is so rare in fandoms like star wars. So often I see writers try to compensate for a series' misogyny by portraying women as flawless BAMFs while still not really putting any effort to make them feel like real people with interiority and complexity. In particular it really stood out to me how Shmi is written in relation to themes of motherhood, how she is not the perfect blank slate angelic mother figure but someone who has been through deep trauma that informs her relationships with herself and her children, and the things that motherhood means to her. You're a wonderful character writer and I'm so excited to see more of this fic.

Inviting me to talk about the portrayal of women in Star Wars is very risky business. I'll skip most of my thoughts and head straight to: the women were the whole point of this series.

The plot for Don't Look Back was thrown together one night while I was talking at my friend while she was cooking dinner, as I ranted about how (in the fics that I'd encountered) there were basically no stories that centered politics, and when they did, they did not center the female characters who were actually politicians in the story. This was infuriating to me because--especially in the time travel fix-it genre--it made no sense to me that no one really wanted to address the complexity of saving the Republic as a failing government entity. I don't really have much if any love for the sequel trilogy, but the fact that it basically said "And 30 years later defeating the Sith did not save the government from descending right back into authoritarianism," was the most horrifyingly on point, accurate direction they could have taken things. Minus, you know, whose fault that was. I ranted for probably a solid hour and a half about what I would do to rewrite Padmé Amidala back into being an actual politician, because she needed to be way more politically and diplomatically savvy if the Republic was going to be saved. The Jedi, even if the Order was completely changed, were in no position to do it. And, most importantly for all the characters and organizations, no one could do anything alone.

Sitting on the couch and weaving that narrative into Leia's story of grief and recovery, I was so excited to tell a nice little tale about the importance of community and cooperation. My ideas about good and evil in the Star Wars universe, about power and the Force, all revolved around these two things. No individual's power was a substitute for them. The very nature of the Sith was to eliminate connections, to cut people off from help. And Palpatine was a master at luring people to the edge and making sure there was no one there to catch them once they realized they were tipping over.

Sure, this was a little ambitious. But I felt confident I could write a decent, moderate length fic on the subject. The narrative threads were right there. How could I not write this story? And what better place to start than preventing Shmi Skywalker from being cut from the narrative? Someone who knew, down to her bones, how important helping others was, and how it had to be done in a community, because it was so easy to make an individual powerless.

Anyway, the whole thing obviously grew way out of control and five years and (oh dear mercy) 750k words later we're still not done yet. But yes. We are here for the ladies. We are here for Shmi's buried anger and Leia's escalating grief and Padmé's long held resentment and Ahsoka's courage and enthusiasm and Satine's compassion driven hypocrisy and Shea's detached ethics and Jamillia's kind and decisive political maneuvering and Jobal's fears for her too-brave daughter and Bo-Katan's reckless determination and Adi Gallia's overwhelming and conflicting duties to the Force and to the Order and all the handmaidens trying to maintain their sense of self while recklessly offering themselves up as sacrifices for Padmé and Naboo. 

We're here for the other characters too. But yeah. There's a reason this series was named after a line from Shmi.

[multifandom-nerds-blog]

Sakamoto Days 199!!!

They're so dumb and in sinc already. True father and son duo.

This page and the following panel. What does it all mean? That the JAA was already after Ando when Shin was a baby (and him?), before Ando dropped him of with Asakura? Although Shin does say that Ando is saying bullshit, we don't know what Shin means with that since we don't actually got to see what Ando was thinking about. (Except for trying to flee the country, which is already Andos plan.)

I do gotta add a theory I've had for a bit now. Which is that Shin was actually born with the powers, and that Asakuras chemistry simply activated them earlier than they would have otherwise. Don't know how likely that is though.

Ando points out the hypocrisy in telling someone who you can't kill while being an Assasin. Which is honestly fair, and Sakamoto doesn't even fight it, just asks where the bomb is. (And promptly goes to a straight attack.) And Shin does seem to know where the bomb is, like Taro points out later in the chap. Except maybe, could it be, that the bomb is just a bluff? Or Ando already figured out/knows that Shin can read minds after his reaction before (previous pic) and said something else? No idea. Again we are once not shown what Shin can read in Andos mind. Probably for a more emotional scene later, but who knows.

Sunglasses, Ikari, from the previous chapter attacks (with an anchor, of course, we are on a boat. Should have expected an anchor as a weapon, lmao.) And Taros instinct is already to just pick up Shin and run of with him in his arm. The fatherly instincts in him are to strong.

Meanwhile Shins trauma from being abandoned at a young age without any answers shines through strong. With, for now, the set believe that blood relation goes over anything. I can't tell if the panel of Taro is only him noticing Ikaris next attack, or if he's already thinking about what Shin is saying here. Never the less. He still immediately protects Shin, who at this point isn't a bystander, but still a kid and (for Taro at least) one that has got nothing to do with the job.

ALSO IKARI IS A CREEP. EWWWWW. GET AWAY FROM THE CHILD.

And while Taro is like constantly making sure that Shin doesn't die in all that chaos, ever since he meeting him, Ikari has no fucking issue to strangle (and assault because omg) a child. Just from the start of this flashback it's clear that Taro never liked killing when it wasn't neccesary, if at all. He saved him at first by just saying he would get rid of him infront of the thugs. He then keeps saving him over and over, even though Shin is a little shit and sends the shop owners after him. Telling him to either stay away from trouble in his way, "I'll be right back" - "don't get thrown overboard again" - from last chapter. (Even asking him if he's okay) I just really like this, seeing how despite the killing itself Taro always had something genuinly nice at him. Killing is work for him, nothing more. Not harming innocent bystanders isn't just a rule to follow, but something he deems right. Keeping a child safe in a fight, asking him "What's wrong?" and "you okay?" when the child looks sick? Even though he has obviously no idea how to act with a (traumatized) child?Just a natural instinct.

Between all that he even decides to apologise to Shin because he can't understand his feelings. He doesn't understand Shins internal struggles. However he's not just bursting out anymore that he's gonna kill Shins dad, because it made Shin upset before, and instead says that he's gonna keep the enemy busy and for Shin to escape. Again, telling him to get to safety. And In a way even telling him to just stay away from the underworld I think.

So in summary. Sakamoto Taro is an assassin here, killing is his job. But he so obviously believes that innocence exists. That other people are innocent. He also believes that you shouldn't harm children (after all children are supposed to be the most innocent). But Taro also doesn't see himself to ever be part of that. At least not yet I think.

[pigeonstab]

So, I actually managed 1005 words! which is like 250 more than i had before, yippee!!

I think some CWs are needed for this one, basically this is a bit of insight into Cross's childhood, he's probably around 13 here?

//CW vomiting & child abuse??// (lmk if there are any more needed)

Raindrops hit the car window, blurring the sight of the city lights behind the panes with a soft pattering sound. Cross was cold. The air was humid and he wanted to go home. Wherever that was.

The car ride had been spent in silence, as had all the other ones these past months. Cross kept himself entertained, watching flashes of light pass through the darkness of the car, observing as they shifted and bent with the shape of the seats or as they passed over his legs. He didn’t know if he could do this again, if he’d find the courage to. He wanted to say something though he knew he shouldn’t, protesting never got him anything but remarks and lectures.

He’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

“I don’t wanna go.” His throat felt tight and there was a growing pressure behind his eyes. he had to tell someone.

A heavy sigh came from the driver’s seat and Cross winced “And I don’t wanna hear it Cross. This is your third placement in three months. You know how these things go.” her tone stayed stern and cold. He didn’t know why he ever tried. A beat passed “You know if you would just behave–”

“I know” he snapped at her, holding his brow, a low growl building in his throat.

“See? This is exactly what I mean!”

“Oh, fuck off!” He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the words left him.

The car came to an abrupt stop at the red light and Cross flinched when she twisted around to face him, her face contorted with rage, pointing an accusing finger in his face.

“I’m doing this for you, you know that right?” She started “I’m driving you there but if you wanna be like that, you can get out of the car and walk your stuff to the new house. And then you could do the introductions and explain all that’s wrong with you. Since you like talking so much. Is that what you want? Huh?”

Cross stayed quiet, curling up on himself. He knew this was a shit idea anyway. She never listened. Tears ran down his cheeks as he kept his eyes glued to the floor. “’m sorry..”

She merely scoffed, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “And stop crying.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Now, Cross stood quietly, his backpack in hand, and in it all his meager belongings. He cringed as his social worker rung the doorbell of the new house.

The door opened, blinding Cross with the warm light coming from inside. He felt like he could cry again. Wanting nothing more than to go back to the car.

His social worker greeted the man at the door, a smile plastered on her face that she only used when talking to the foster parents. Cross was disgusted at her hypocrisy. This house would be just like the other ones, they’d act nice for a bit while he was quiet and docile and then at the first sign of resistance they’d realize he’s nothing but a wild animal, ‘a problem child’. Once he snaps at them, once he’s not just a way to give them good conscience. He hated them already, he hated this.

He wanted out. He liked it better with Epic. He should’ve stayed with him.

“Cross, are you coming?” He was pulled from of his thoughts as she called him inside. She’d already told his new foster parents about the protocol for his shifts, he knew because the man he’d seen earlier was holding a vial of wolfsbane in his hand. He shuddered, it was rare when foster parents let him spend full moons without sedation. He didn’t like the way they looked at him.

Like they were nice, like they weren’t going to hurt him. Cross hoped they’d let him keep his books. Maybe they wouldn’t be as bad as the last ones.

–––––––––––––––––––

Cross knew this placement had been a bad idea. He panted and whined as he struggled against the silver shackles attaching him to the basement radiator, his arms were pulled back uncomfortably and the silver was burning him, he could hear his own bones start to sizzle.

He’d been annoying, he knew he’d been bad, but he didn’t think they’d even keep him around long enough to deal with a full moon. They’d laced his water with wolfsbane at dinner. Of course that wouldn’t be a problem if only they hadn’t put this much. It wasn’t his usual dose and he could feel his body rejecting it, his stomach clenched and he tried his best to fight it as he gagged, his diaphragm working to expel the poison from his metabolism, his chest heaved and Cross retched, only slightly purple tinted bile left him as he sobbed.

Everything was aching, his limbs weren’t responding and he felt sluggish, his senses held in a panicked torpor. He didn’t know how long he’d been crying, his wrists feel raw and chaffed. He felt his body forcing itself into a different shape as the full moon rose and illuminated the basement through a small window, his mind stuck in an exhausting loop of unfinished thoughts and panic, and he howled in pain as the first cracks rang out and echoed in the basement.

The smell of blood permeated the air. he couldn’t think. The poison left him immobile, save for the slight shivering that wracked his small furry form. Cross wanted out.

Closing his eyes and letting his tired mind drift off, he thought of green grass and cool air, the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind, feeling his paws hit the earth with each bound, wind rushing past him, ruffling his fur, it was enough to satiate the instincts clawing at the back of his mind. And in the morning he’d wake up wishing he hadn’t. But for now, hurting and laying on cold damp concrete floor, hidden back into the retreat of his mind, he felt calmer.

[trealtox]

I hate season 7 of "Buffy the vampire slayer"

Let's get this straight, I like these series. They are fun and entertaining (and I only started watching it because of Spuffy). But I HATE season 7.

First of all, what is the deal with those guys? Out of the blue all characters (Spike excluded. Love him❤️) start doubting Buffy and her leadership. This girl saved all of you hundreds of times, and when the world is on the edge of collapsing, you turn your backs on her?! If she's such a bad leader, then why did you put all the responsibility on her shoulders? Why did you bring her back from heaven? To tell her, that she's not better than you? I'm sorry guys, but your crew is: a whining bitch-boy, magic (read as 'drug') addicted witch, a blorb of energy, a former vengeance demon and a killer watcher. With your list of deeds, I have bad news for you: none of you goes to heaven. NONE. She IS better than you.

Second of all, what is their sudden problem with Spike? In the last season all Scoobies want to kill Spike and say that it's because he's dangerous. Well, he is. Just like all of you. Your killer count talks louder than you (he killed because he was souless and he feeds on blood. You killed because you could. There is difference). They keep saying that he should be taken out because he is dangerous, and yet remind me, who held him by their side while he was useful? And did Scoobies thank him even once? (I actually don't remember. Tell me, if they did) Buffy is the only person who actually tries to be reasonable and accept that Spike has changed. In return she gets a potential slayer,a school headmaster and her own father figure being all mad at her, saying that she is the problem. If you want to kill him so badly, just do it already and stop making Buffy responsible for your own wishes (not like I would forgive them if they did)

Point number 3. Again with the hypocrisy of Scoobies. Faith comes back, sees that girls can't stop complaining and decides to take them out clubbing. Buffy sees that and gets mad (logically). Later on everyone decides that Faith should be the new leader. Why? Why would a former killer and a traitor be a good leader? Because she took a bunch of teens drinking, when you should all be ready to fight? If I recall, it was almost considered a crime for Buffy to rest, when there were better times. Now, when Buffy is tired and stressed from constant responsibility, all the potential slayers say that she's "not cool". Scoobies just can't be more hypocritical. Faith killed people out if her own free will. She teamed up with a villain, and she enjoyed it. Buffy made one mistake of attacking one villain. What do Scoobies get out of that? "Buffy is not better than us. Faith is. 🎶Let's put this guy infront of the crowd🎶". And let's be honest with that: Giles acts petty in here. The only reason he stands against Buffy, is because she got sick of him lying to her and telling her to kill Spike, so she honestly told him that she can't trust any of them. He got offended by her disobedience so much, that he decided to get rid of her. That's not a nice thing to do to a girl who is like a daughter to you.

Btw, Faith deserves a second chance and Spike doesn't? Spike was SOULESS. He wasn't supposed to be good and yet he almost died just to be the better version of himself. At the same time Faith was supposed to be the protector of people, yet she decided to join the homicide. She was creepy enough to SMELL THE KNIFE. And yet we get a whole storyline about "bad Buffy still thinking of her as a killer." The hero we deserve, I suppose? Btw, Faith IS a killer. She enjoyed it. I don't know why Scoobies want to forgive her so badly and give her a bunch of teens, taken away from Buffy, but they don't trust Spike.

And my favourite. The cherry on top. THEY KICKED HER OUT OF HER OWN HOUSE. Giles had his own place. Xander has his own place. Willow wasn't homeless before she moved into the Summers's house. And yet, when they needed a place to put all the potential slayers, they took them into Buffy's house. And then they kick her out. The "good guys".

Buffy needs no enemies with friends like that.

[bluberryfields]

"What the hell did you just do?"

Part 2 of whatever. Continuing on with Tadfield Manor scenes, we get to the infamous "Wall" scene. I know it has been analyzed by many so far, but that's never stopped people in the world of literary analysis from spewing their own thoughts on well-reviewed texts. Also, I just want to.

Okay, so once they enter the manor building and see the management training branding, Crowley decides to "help out" and make all of the paintball guns into real machine guns. He snaps his fingers and points double finger guns at the passing "soldier".

Aziraphale is dumbfounded. "What the hell did you just do?

Such language, Angel! And no physical reaction to it like Crowley did when he said "Heaven's sake" in E6. Huh.

Crowley, meanwhile, is thoroughly pleased with himself. They want to battle? He's happy to oblige.

This plus the scare in the courtyard lets us see Crowley enjoying the few perks of being a demon. It's fucking adorable.

Aziraphale cannot comprehend how Crowley - who just miracled a stain away on his coat because it bothered him - could do something so thoroughly evil. And with a jaunty step!

If Aziraphale had pearls, he'd be clutching them so hard.

To which Crowley takes the opportunity to once again point out the flawed binary system of morality. We the audience will see this argument again in the Body Snatcher minisode, so it's fun to see how these two keep having the same old debates throughout time just with different causes with which to start from.

Pointing out hypocrisy while slinking down a hall? Crowley, you delicious tramp.

Aziraphale is still thoroughly horrified, but Crowley concedes with a sigh that everyone will, in fact, be fine. To me, his tone is a mix of disappointment at him not being quite as much of a bastard as he paints himself. He can't really hide his true self from Aziraphale.

I love how he can't stop moving his body. Snakes gonna slither.

Then here is it. The big moment. Smug little Aziraphale feels the need to mention how nice Crowley is underneath his demonic persona.

We now know that this is a reoccurring exchange, where Crowley must defend his title of Big Bad Demon in front of Azi's kind compliments. There's serious consequences to Crowley being labeled "nice" and Azi knows this by now. So why does he keep bringing it up? To provoke Crowley? To finally break him into admitting Azi is right? It's not like Azi can protect Crowley from Hell's wrath, but he pushes anyway.

I thought Crowley was the shit-stirrer in this relationship.

And now my favorite part. Sister Mary shows up and rightly implies these two are about to nail each other through the drywall. But when she recognizes Crowley, he stops her in her tracks.

The sass! It's off the fucking chart! Only an Angel could withstand such a display!

Aziraphale just straightens his clothes and lets the sass go unchallenged because he's still has a bit of self-preservation instincts left.

So I already talked about the "Luck of the devil" line from Aziraphale here, but it truly is a fun moment in the context of the whole scene. Crowley is worked up from the "nice" comment and Aziraphale's seeming refusal to stop analyzing him.

Horny Aziraphale is sassy and Crowley looks like he wants to bite through a door frame.

So, obviously, I've spent way too much time rewatching these scenes, but I do find it so interesting how we see so much of their relationship on display within just a few minutes. The different personality traits to draw them together while also pushing them apart.

The way Aziraphale knows how to work Crowley, who in turns knows how to indulge appropriately. (*cough* bullet catch *cough*)

The way Crowley happily taps into his demonic toolbox to spread a bit of chaos without actually causing serious harm. (*cough* Job *cough*)

The way Aziraphale reflexively tows the party line of Heaven even in the face of Crowley's demonstrations of humanity's instincts. (*cough* all of time *cough*)

And basically the way they bring out the best (and sometimes worst) of each other. Some might say they're a team. Or a group. A group of the two of them.

[undeadorion]

Up front, I want to make something clear. People can vague post and talk shit about me all the want. I don't care. Unless you attach my name to it, I likely won't even see it. People can also make and post whatever the fuck they want. But people are also allowed to voice things that they do not like, especially when it is things that make them uncomfortable. Making a post on your own account saying you do not like something, especially in a fandom context, is in no way a personal attack.

However, what I will not tolerate is hypocrisy. People getting bent out of shape over what I post, insisting I'm posting about them. Only to turn around make numerous posts about me. This might sound familiar, but this is NOT about the recent situation with that big name user. This is one of my long time stalkers pulling the same shit.

I'm sick of this. This person lost me a decent chunk of followers and keeps spreading egregious lies about me. At first it was just around the Ghost fandom, but they've started pushing their bullshit narrative on uninvolved people and it needs to fucking stop. Again, I don't care if you make vague posts about me. Just stop fucking lying.

This is going to be a long one, folks. Strap in.

Back in October 2024, I was followed by a user who posted stuff that made me INTENSELY uncomfortable. It was a crossover of two things I really don't like: insisting easily observable canon facts are completely different, and force feminizing male characters. This was not an AU or special fic they were making. At the time, their whole blog was themed around this, changing the character's name and titles entirely from what was canon. Referring to him exclusively as "her". I made a post making it known this stuff makes me uncomfortable. I never said for them to STOP doing it. I just didn't want to see that stuff being added to my posts and made my discomfort known. I never mentioned the user by name, as honestly I hadn't even made note of it at the time.

I soft blocked them (block and unblock, it forces an unfollow). Two weeks or so later, I got followed by a different person who was posting the same sort of stuff. I did the same thing. Complained about the concept on my own blog and soft blocked the person. I didn't even know they'd been reblogging the same person as before.

I need to stress that point. I went out of my way to NOT interact with these people. I helped them unfollow me because we would not get along. I never said anything about the people themselves. My complaints on the concept were an extension of my ongoing venting about people who refuse to separate their AUs from canon material. I never once initiated contact with anyone involved.

The reason for their anger at me for my discomfort was entirely hypocritical. They were allowed to do whatever they wanted, because they preferred the character that way. Fine, just don't do it around me? That's all I wanted. And they took this as a personal attack.

They proceeded to bombard me with asks. They got their friends involved. I spent over a week getting my inbox flooded with vile attacks and insults. They then went on to frame my responses as me attacking them. Was I being nice? No. But I had no reason to be. They kept knocking on my door and refused my requests to be left alone. All they had to do was walk away.

The ring leader went on to make several posts about me, calling for other people in the fandom to block me. While hypocritically complaining I was posting about them. It lost me a lot of followers, including people I interacted with on a regular basis.

I can't find a screenshot of the original post they made calling for me to be blocked, but I found this one in my screenshots folder:

The art their complaining about is posted here.

And some comments were made:

There are several people who can attest to me very much not being transmed. I can't even fathom how they arrived at this conclusion.

Note that this post was from OCTOBER. I didn't interact with them, I went about my own business. Mostly because I got busy with other things and wasn't so deep in the fandom anymore. In late March (so like 5 months later), I was scoping out how much Roadkill was sending asks to get people to block me, and I found a post The Rat had made in FEBRUARY. It's since been deleted and I didn't get a screenshot of the actual post, but I do have one of the comments.

I don't know what "im all he has" is supposed to be about. You just need to look at my archive from that time to see what I was posting about.

The Palestinian comment is likely about me warning/complaining about the gofundme scams exploiting the crisis in Gaza.

The homeless comment is likely referring to this zero note post a few days prior, in which I said everyone deserves access to public bathrooms. This is also how I knew for sure they were stalking me. They had zero reason to be on my blog when I made that post.

They're trying to frame me as a stalker, but I only saw this ONE post because they mentioned me BY NAME. The closest I got to "posting about" them was sometimes referring to my stalkers. Plural. In vague terms. Because there's a lot more than just this person, and it wasn't exactly frequent.

With that background, we come to the reason for this already lengthy post. It's context for what was said in the interaction I had today. My only warning was seeing them show up in the replies of someone's post about the recent Roadkill account. I didn't have much time to let the dread sink in before I got hit with the following.

I will accept OCD as a reason they were looking at my blog. Sure, fine. Compulsions like that are difficult to avoid. I don't actually care if their looking. It's the lies they're spreading that I take issue with. OCD is not an excuse for that behavior.

I want to reiterate, I do not condone suicide baiting or anything else Roadkill is doing. But Roadkill did not find this person through me. It was either by searching for my name (which this person willingly mentioned on their blog SEVERAL times), or by interacting with a high profile target. Even now I'm going out of my way to NOT put their name here.

Also I do not know what they're talking about with me going to other people's blogs to call them toxic or stupid. They've never elaborated on this claim.

But the claim that they don't use other sites is another lie. It might be true TODAY, but that wasn't the case back in December when I found this:

I only found this post because I was checking out Clearsky, a service that gives you more insight into things on Bluesky, including who blocks you. I’m not all that active on Bluesky (my account was over a year old at this point), so there was no reason for this post beyond malicious intent.

[landthatplane-blog]

Will Buxton and Natalie Pinkham Responses - More Rambles

First of all, of course I am for journalistic integrity. Seeing what happened with Natalie Pinkham this weekend with the CH interview and people’s response was a bit alarming. Even if she has a personal relationship, she asked the questions everybody was wondering and she did it respectfully. CH was the one being defensive. When he tried to pin it on her, she didn’t take the bait. She isn’t the TP - she’s trying to find out why they’re keeping a lineup that doesn’t seem to be working at best capacity. Honestly, the day before Lawrence Barretto (and I think Will Buxton) were literally discussing why Red Bull made this surprising decision. She just had the opportunity to ask. If you don’t have an answer then don’t take these interviews CH! At this stage, I would have understood CH if he was just more honest. Either their car isn’t working for both drivers (tho there is a still a gap). Or that their drivers are here for multitudes of reasons. I mean if people are going to level Daniel with PR3 constantly then why are Checo’s sponsorships not allowed to be discussed? Of course, every driver is going to leverage their positives (on track results, sponsorship, fans, time in the sport) to keep or gain seats. It is a holistic thing. The hypocrisy drives me nuts.

With regards to Will Buxton’s podcast comments. He’s honestly been such a fair weather supporter - and if that’s the case he should keep his personal opinions to himself. Absolutely no loyalty. That said, journalistic integrity is important/being able to constructively criticize is necessary. He was highly critical of DR when he decided to not take a seat 2023 but once he sensed he was back, ultra friendly to him. What I want to point out is first - his tone about DR and GR was so disrespectful. They may not be friends in real life - but they’re colleagues/co-workers. Who speaks like that about the people you work with? If you’re having a chat/pint with your friends privately, speak how you want. You’re on a public podcast. Secondly, the reason I am thinking that is, while he is a journalist, he is EMPLOYED by F1. They are technically his employers. Again, grey areas abound in F1🫠🙄. Again, not to say he can’t criticize their driving results, or if they’d been accused of something horrific like CH, OF COURSE he should comment. This just felt like random personal attacks. First, just nasty to GR. And he’s accusing Daniel of being nice - oh, he should be jailed. Again, personal grievances is a conversation better shared in private. Again, all for journalistic integrity. If he had framed his criticisms about their track results fair game. What he said felt spiteful. And it made me think - why are you basically blatantly talking shit about your co-workers? Just wrong on so many levels. Honesty, says more about character than either DR or GR. He sounds so unserious.

[collidescopeeyes]

Time is a Roulette Wheel

Viego: Pt 2

League of Legends | Viego x F!Reader

Chapters: Prologue | Viego: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Crossposted on AO3 here

SFW

Summary: Turns out that Runeterra isn't the only place that has a Void. Plucked from your world into one of a video game with nothing but stolen time powers, an inability to die and a middling recollection of lore, you're prepared to do just about anything to get back home again. You just have to find the right Champion to help.

Again, you're expecting that to be the last you see of him, but now with a vague hope that maybe he'll figure out how to be a decent human being again. Again, you're wrong.

“Are you well?” He asks, once again appearing from fucking nowhere. It's a fair question��you’re covered in blood. However, he asks it like he's just caught you doing something strange, and not like you're half dead on the floor.

You wave a vague hand at him from where you're slumped against a wall. “Trying to converse with things that's literal only purpose in life is to eat you is…bad. It's bad. I would not recommend it.”

He tilts his head, brow pinched. “Would you like me to kill it?”

You blink, surprised and inappropriately a little flattered by the offer, but shake your head. “God, that would be nice, but no.” You grimace down at your blood soaked clothes. You should rewind them, but you're so fucking tired. “Time is harder to manipulate here than I'm used to, and Voidspawn heal fast. If I could just…fucking smite them, I'd be fine, but no, I've gotta follow the motherfucker around stabbing it just enough to slow it down while I try to convince it to divulge trade secrets to me. Hence,” you gesture around you at the bone spines and discarded throwing knives, and then at your blood stained clothes. You…should probably go, actually. Cho’gath would be healed up soon, and it's probably coming back for round…fuck, you don't know, thirteen? You groan and begin the arduous process of trying to lever yourself up the wall when your legs feel like jelly.

Viego offers you a hand, and you're so tired you don't think twice about taking it. His gauntlets are cold against your skin. The world sways disorientingly as you stand, and you blink muzzily at his concerned expression as you try to remain upright. “Hey, Viego?” You say vaguely. “Do me a favor and take me somewhere…not here, if I pass out. I think Cho’gath will probably come back and eat me, otherwise.”

His brow creases and he opens his mouth, presumably to ask you what the fuck you're on about, and that's all you see before everything goes black.

–

You wake up to the musty smell of old linens. You groggily pry open one eye to confirm your suspicions that yes, obviously, Viego brought you to the Shadow Isles, of course he did. In fact, Viego is seated on what looks like it used to be a couch, watching you. His posture is tense, and the mist pouring from his heart is particularly thick. It takes you a moment to realize the room is decaying around you, thousands of years passing in seconds.

You sit up, waving a hand in the general direction of the walls, and everything blurs for a moment before returning to the way it was. Well, the way it was like last week, no point actually restoring anything. That being said, you're surprised the blankets don't disintegrate as they pool around your waist. “Are you watching me sleep?” You croak. He doesn't answer, but his lips do pinch a little. “You know that's a weird thing to do, right?”

He sits back finally, his posture going from ‘inches from ghost zwei’ to ‘this may as well be a throne’. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Subtle change of subject, but you don't push him on it. God knows it took you long enough to figure out how to be a person again, it would be the height of hypocrisy for you call him on being abrupt.

You sigh deeply. “Nope. The Voidborne are put here with the burning desire to consume all of reality and exactly enough intelligence to not get killed doing it. The finer points of interdimensional travel are, as far as I can tell, lost on them.” You rub your temples tiredly. “That is, if they're even deliberately designed. If what we know as the Void is really just an allergic reaction of true nothingness to reality, they could just be the antibodies.” He's looking at you like he has no idea what you're talking about and this is somehow your fault. Again. You sigh again, crossing your arms on your bent knees. “For the moment, my only bet is to keep my ear to the ground and hope.”

For a moment you sit in silence. “I know what it feels like, to be so far from home with no way back,” he offers somberly. You glance at him, then at the ruined room you're in.

“Do you even remember what it was like, before?” You ask quietly.

He hesitates. “Some. I do not know how much I can trust my own mind, but…some.” He glances up at a molded painting hanging on the wall, now so faded you have no idea what it was meant to depict. “I think…this room belonged to my aunt. I remember she had a very ugly painting of her late-husband, which was funny, because she was the one who had him assassinated.” He frowns at the rotting frame. “For…a mistress? No, no. No, he was addicted to gambling, and bet away…” he pauses, then laughs under his breath. “He bet her favorite horse. He won, but she was so offended that she changed his will to bequeath all of his belongings to the horse instead, and then arranged for him to have an accident on a hunting trip. His son was very upset.”

You laugh disbelievingly. “Over a horse? There’s no way she got away with that.”

His brow furrows in concentration. “She was planning to cut ties with the family anyway, I believe. Too many gambling debts. The son was arrested not long after, or killed, I'm not sure. He was in no position to contest the verdict, in any case.”

“Huh. And you put me in your aunt's room because…?” You trail off expectantly.

He blinks at you as if he doesn't understand the question. “It was the first room I found with an intact bed.”

You look down at the fraying, musty sheets. “This is intact?” You look up at him, suddenly concerned. “You aren't sleeping in here, right?”

“I do not sleep,” he replies.

“You can't, or you don't need to?” You clarify. He doesn't answer. Your eyes narrow. “You haven't tried.”

“I had more important matters to attend to,” he says, managing to sound very pompous about it.

You roll your eyes. “Well, you don't anymore, and furthermore just laying down with your eyes closed is still more restful than what you've been doing, which I assume is brooding in the seated position. Get over here.” You pat the expanse of bed next to you, and under your hands it reverts to a state of newness, the faded covers becoming plush and clean in lush blues.

He blinks at you, uncomprehending. He opens his mouth as if to argue, and then closes it. Shockingly, without another word, he stands and crosses to the other side of the bed, and lays down on top of the covers. The mattress sinks under his weight, but the bed is so outrageously large that there's still plenty of space between you.

“Okay, now close your eyes,” you instruct.

“I remember how to sleep,” he says, sounding annoyed.

“If I know you, Viego, you're just gonna think about how miserable your existence is,” you say calmly. He doesn't contradict you. “So here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna pick something in the room to focus on, a sound or a sensation or a smell, like the texture of the blankets or something. You're gonna try and keep your attention on just that thing. If your focus starts wandering, whether it's to something unhappy or just a thought, simply note what it went to and then gently bring your attention back to your anchor.”

“And this is supposed to make me happy?” He says dryly.

You shake your head. “No. But being just okay is the first step to being happy, and not torturing yourself is a skill that needs practice like any other.”

He doesn't say anything further. You take a moment to reflect on the fact that you're teaching fucking meditation techniques to a dead king from a video game. That being said, mental health awareness was abysmal in this world, you can't imagine Viego was taught any distress tolerance skills back when he was alive either. You guess the job just fell to you then.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up to Viego's gentle breathing. When you look to your side, he looks like a classical painting, pale eyelashes brushing high cheekbones, lips slightly parted. He also sleeps like a vampire, ramrod straight with his hands folded on his bare stomach, his crown still casting a soft glow over his pale skin. You're struck with the urge to see if the hair splayed out on his pillow is as soft as it looks, but you don't want to die any more than you already have today, so you leave it.

You inch your way out of bed so as not to wake him, and are about to rewind yourself away when he makes a pained little noise. His brows are furrowed, and his arm is flung out to the empty side of the bed. He whimpers again, and you can see the faint glow of his eyes darting around behind his lids. You remember that this is a man who simply chose not to sleep at all for however long he's been back, rather than sleep alone. You wonder if he slept at all, after Isolde died, before she killed him.

You slip back under the covers, his arm still over your waist over the thick blankets, and his expression slowly smooths. As you listen to his breathing even out, you wonder what in the genuine fuck you're doing.

He's gone when you wake up again.

—

You are reluctantly forced to admit that this may be a regular occurrence. This is your life now, you guess–you’ve imprinted the Ruined King like he's a lost duckling, and he follows you around exactly like one. It's certainly not for the change of scenery, at least–you’ve heard rumors of Ryze in Ionia, so you're just wandering around hoping to run into some trace of him. Viego, apparently, sees fit to wander with you.

He shows up while you’re pouring over your notes, trying to find something, someone, anything you missed, and he criticizes your handwriting. He appears behind you while you're walking and laughs when you startle so badly you drop the trail rations you were eating, as if he doesn't even notice the knife you were about to launch into his skull. He ominously hovers behind you while you're setting up camp and rudely doesn't let you know he's there until you're halfway through singing a very crude song, upon which he asks what a brazilian wax is. Now, he appears in a swirl of mist while you're being jumped by bandits and beheads their leader.

“I’d rather you hadn't done that,” you sigh, approaching the still-cooling corpse. You had been trying to talk them down, before Viego appeared from the sudden roiling mist looking like wrath incarnate. The rest of the bandits are fleeing in terror, and Viego pauses mid-stride where he was obviously about to chase and cut the rest of them down.

“What?” He asks, obviously baffled and a little affronted.

“I said, I’d rather you hadn't killed that guy,” you say a little louder, kneeling down by the man's body. You touch his shoulder, and the body disappears, only to reappear instantly exactly as it was before Viego cut his head off. The man promptly chokes on his own spit, clutching his own neck as he recalls what just happened to him. You stand, brushing your skirts off, and the bandit stares between you and Viego with wide, panicked eyes.

“P-please, I have children, I-I just–We weren't gonna hurt youse, I swear, we just wanted to spook you into giving up your gold, please, they ain't got no one but me–” he babbles, dropping to his knees.

You reach into your bag and pull a few coins from your purse. The man flinches when you hold out your hand. “Alright, enough of that. Take this as an apology for the beheading and get out of here.” His eyes flick between the gold, you and Viego for a moment. Then he snatches the coins and almost trips over himself trying to run away while also bowing and thanking you profusely.

“They were going to kill you,” Viego points out irritably.

You give him an unimpressed look. “Do you think I'm not capable of defending myself?”

“No, but I don't see what the point of letting such people live is,” Viego argues, dropping his sword. When his hands leave it, it disintegrates into mist as quickly as it appeared.

You squint at him disbelievingly. “You really weren't cut out to be a king, were you?” He gives you a deeply offended look, and you rub your face. “Okay, look. Do you know where we are right now?”

He glances around, eyes lingering on the plants on the road and the trees in the forest. “Ionia, I believe.”

You nod. “And are you aware that Ionia is currently being invaded by Noxus?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He asks, annoyed.

“It has to do with the fact these people are just trying to survive,” you point out, equally on edge. “If they wanted to kill me and rob me, they would've ambushed me instead of putting on this big show of surrounding me and demanding I hand over my valuables,” you explain, gesturing around you. “Would they have killed me if they needed to? Probably, yeah, but that wasn't their goal. Did you actually look at them? They're starving men trying to find a way to make enough coin for them and theirs to live.”

“You believe his story?” He asks dryly.

You tilt your head at him, baffled. “It's not an uncommon one. Please tell me this isn't the first time you've considered there could be complex socioeconomic factors behind criminal activity. You were a king.”

His eyes go slightly unfocused, as they always do when you bring up his past. “I…” he trails off, clearly deep in thought. “I left such matters to my advisors,” he finally recalls, with what looks like a lot of effort. “It was not, ah…something I was taught how to handle.”

You squint at him. “What do you mean, you weren't taught? You were royalty, you're literally raised for it.”

He shrugs, clearly agitated. “I wasn't meant to be king. I was the youngest prince, I was taught court etiquette and fine arts, not governorship.”

“Then why the fuck were you put in charge?” You ask, baffled.

He pauses. “I don't know. I don't remember. I just was.” He shakes his head, as if trying to dispel an unpleasant thought. His foggy memory clearly frustrates him.

You sigh, relenting. “Look, I understand you were just trying to help, I just…I don't like people dying because of me. I know you don't remember dying, but it sucks, and bringing people back from it is a huge pain in the ass.”

He eyes you warily. “You're not about to pass out again, are you?”

“That happened once,” you defend yourself, before realizing that it's probably a real concern as far as he knows. “But if I do, feel free to bring me back to your creepy castle. Hey, that bed is still nice, right?” You ask as the thought occurs to you. “I wasn't sure it'd stick. Big changes sometimes don't.”

He blinks, and this is a new expression on Viego–abashed. You hadn't spoken about that night, but he clearly feels somewhat awkward about it, because he's avoiding your gaze like it burns. “Yes, it is,” he says tightly, then clears his throat. “Anyway, I came to make a request of you.” Viego loves to change to subject when he's uncomfortable, you've noticed.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Oh?”

He closes the space between you, and from inside his torn coat produces a faded book. “Could you restore this for me?”

You take the thing carefully, because it looks like it could crumble to dust in your hands. “What is it?”

“I do not know. I found it in the castle and I recognized the spine, so it must be–” you wind the book's time back, and in your hands the crisp gold text ‘Sweet Savage Love' stares back at you. You look up at Viego, and he has his eyes closed as if he's hoping whatever force is keeping him alive will spontaneously fail.

“You used to read bodice rippers?” You ask gleefully.

“Apparently,” he sighs deeply, taking the book from you and flipping it over. You crowd up against his side to read the back cover, standing on your tippy toes. Instantly, you see why he remembers it–it's a love story between a prince and a commoner. He lets out a soft huff, and tucks it into his jacket once more. You don't like the tiredness in his eyes.

“So you were always a sap, huh?” You muse. You feel the urge to try and cheer him up, which is insane because Viego’s defining character trait after being the wife guy is being miserable. “Maybe I should get you some new ones. I'm sure the art form has advanced in the last thousand years or so.”

“Perhaps I should kill you after all,” he muses, looking down at you, though his tone is so lamenting you don't think he's being serious. You realize you're still very close to each other, arms touching, and he hasn't moved away. Then again, he probably hasn't had much in the way of casual physical contact since he came back to life. You're sure that had no long lasting psychological ramifications.

“As if,” you say casually, knocking your shoulder against his as you flounce off. You're not sure if you mean, as if you could or as if you would, but it gets your point across.

–

Viego is sort of like a cat, you realize. He doesn't really ask for attention so much as he hovers around you until you give it.

“You still eat, right?” You say casually, stirring your pot of stew. You're getting good at noticing when he appears by the drop in temperature. He doesn't respond, and you look at him to find a familiar pinched look on his face. He's seated just inside the ring of your firelight, lounging on the ground as if it were the most comfortable seat in the world. You wonder if he practiced that pose. “You haven't tried,” you guess from his face.

“There is very little to eat in the shadow isles,” he says, a little defensively.

“And yet you seem to spend an awful lot of time out of it,” you note, amused. You then immediately pause as a thought occurs to you. “Wait, how do you keep following me, anyway?”

He tilts his head to the side, as if he's a curious animal. “I’m not quite sure. The Mist clings to you as if you were a wraith, but you are not bound by its borders. It follows you, but can find no purchase on your soul with which to keep you. It's as if you are alive and dead all at once.”

You blink, then sigh deeply. “That figures.” You fish two bowls out of your bag and begin to ladle stew into it. He looks puzzled as you hand him one, and then even more so when you plop down next to him and start eating.

“Don't tell me you're too good for beef stew?” You say teasingly, nudging his knee with yours.

He blinks as if he's coming out of a trance. “I don't believe I've ever had this dish,” he says, and to your relief begins taking off his gauntlets. You hate to think whose insides those things have got on them–he’s still wearing the same clothes he died in, after all, give or take magically blasting half his shirt off.

It takes you a moment to actually process his words, but when you do you turn to him aghast. “Beef stew? You've never had beef stew? God, what's the fucking point of being royalty if they didn't even feed you right?”

He’s looking at his food like he's not sure what he's supposed to do with it. His hands are oddly delicate for the heavy gauntlets he wears, with the long slender fingers of a pianist. “Stews were considered commoner food. Usually we would be served roasts or fish or…” you hand him a slice of sourdough you cut earlier, and he blinks. “Or bread, yes.”

It's kind of adorable how he watches you use your bread to scoop stew into your mouth before doing the same, as if he wants to be sure he's doing it right. His eyes widen slightly when he takes the first bite, and you have to hand him two more slices of bread before you finish your one. You were expecting to have leftovers, but there's something satisfying in watching him eat.

After, you clean your bowls and the pot with a twist of time, and then lay your bedroll out next to the fire. All the while, Viego sits and watches you. Normally he would have left by now.

You pause as you're fluffing your pillow. “You know, you're welcome to stay,” you offer, because you're pretty sure he will if he wants to anyway, and you offering first makes the whole situation seem slightly less insane. It's not like you mind the company–wandering around Ionia isn't the most entertaining on its own. “I don't have another bedroll or anything though.”

He inclines his head in what you think is acknowledgement, and doesn't move. Like a cat, you think as you climb into your bedroll, just wanting to exist in the same space as you. Or maybe it just gets to be too much for him, in the skeletal remains of his old life, and yours is the only face still friendly to him. You look at him in the firelight and see a lonely, lonely man who just wanted, for a time, to not be alone.

He's gone in the morning, of course.

[foxounderscorecube]

favorite tradition and nicknames? 👀

I'm probably mostly thinking of it because it is that time of year and because I mentioned it in the tags of a post I reblogged earlier, but I really like the way I grew up with Father Christmas as a tradition! I'm a big Christmas fan anyway, but I'd say that's the part of it that stands out most (because smoked salmon and scrambled eggs with Bucks Fizz, while THE Christmas Day breakfast in my eyes, feels less like a TRADITION tradition, you know?). I still get visited by Father Christmas - I'm pretty sure my mum did until I was born - and even as an adult going to bed exhausted and tipsy on Christmas Eve, it is VERY important to me to leave some mince pies and sherry and a carrot for the reindeer. When I notice I have presents (in my family, Father Christmas presents are left in a pillowcase on or next to your bed) I always have to count and prod them and I still wake up early on Christmas Day, chronic fatigue syndrome and all. Because jermagaunt's parents stopped doing Father Christmas for him in his early teens or so, my mum and I make sure that he gets visited again now, too, and it's fun being Father Christmas, as well!

A lesser tradition that isn't Christmas-related but which I'd like to mention is a holiday within my English family called Pina Colada Day, which falls somewhere in June (I put it on my calendar but I am not good at remembering dates...). Occasionally, my family do, like, girls' holidays, which is usually to this one spa but for whatever reason one time it was a trip to Egypt. I was 10 and my mum and I weren't able to go because my passport expired a few months after our return date so I have no clue why it was such a big holiday. Either way, most of the women in my family were on holiday, and everyone wanted to get pizza one day, but my Auntie Jean, a raging snob in many respects, was turning her nose up at the concept because she would never eat something as base as pizza, I guess. That changed drastically after she got off her face on pina coladas and started absolutely wrecking pizza like her life depended on it and she was never able to live it down. At first, Pina Colada Day was mostly just "celebrated" by taking the piss out of her about it from time to time, but after her daughter and then she died to cancer within a fairly short time, it became a memorial thing, so once a year, somewhere around the time of Auntie Jean's original pizza hypocrisy, we all make pina coladas in Auntie Jean and her daughter's honour.

With regards to nicknames, I don't have many! For my given name, I've always been Cat, which is fine. I like cats :3 I don't know why that's what it got shortened to, but my given name is uncommon in the UK and lots of people can't pronounce or spell it (skill issue, in my opinion) so it's nice to have a single syllable to point to. For my chosen name, I have one friend who calls me Lowie, which I think is absolutely delightful!

jermagaunt wants to me to mention that he often calls me pickle (see also: peanut, pinky, penis), and my mum has a variety of pet names for me, the most important being chicken. Chicken is, like, a badge of honour: I think there have been four chickens ever. If my mum calls you chickadee or chick, she looks upon you fondly; if she calls you chicken, you're either me or practically adopted as an honorary child.

[cowedeakamatsu]

Annnnd another route done! It's the heavily darumi focusing Retsnom route! (I assume 49 as the "true ending" of the route personnaly, even if once again the whole point of the game is "its up to you", i still have one ending to do in this route tho) (spoilers underneath the "show more")

Spoiler for the route underneath (I really liked the route! lowkey ended up as my 2nd / 3rd fav (and all 3 are VERY close), even if it does suffer from a VERY weird pacing, the fact they wanted the route to actually go to the end instead of stoping earlier, and the lack of "mini arcs" since it was mostly darumi and takumi focus caused it to feel a bit slow, or fast at times. That said I didnt consider it a bad thing, the lack of cgs too was a bit problematic, but just a bit, the game DID have a complicated production, and that would be a fucking hypocrisy to say this game doesnt have a LOT of cg, but it cant have billions either, so its perfectly fine) Also it's written by kodaka, and another guy (sorry i didnt remeber the name aaaaaaaaaaaah, big shotout to you other guy! So far, I still have yet to experience a route in which the characters act "out of character" and very unlike what's been previously set up, then again ive yet to do an uchikoshi written route, and i think most of the route i did (coming of age, takumi cult, 001, v'ehxness) were partially or entirely kodaka written, actually all of them except coming of age)

The focus on huge guilt at the start and takumi being distrusted, leading to darumi showing another side of her we didnt see much of before (especially for I and @plaindangan (who plays with me) since ALL of the routes we did so far except that one had darumi DIE extremelly early on, so having a darumi focus route at this exact timing ? Pretty darn happy about it. Then afterward the whole thing turns into a slow monster movie with a bit of mystery and dread, "is it really darumi ?" being the center for the 2nd half, my only real issue character wise being that takumi becomes.. kinda very bad at comunicating for most of the route ? he feels very passive. a biiiit too much. During the whole story i was more (and i think i still am) more into darumi / takumi relation in a platonic way, as they really handled well the "takumi is the first person darumi both wants, and actually succeed to befriend and show her actual self too" all the while inting at possibly more, before ending 49 confirmed it as love. EVEN IF imo i still think its platonic, because i aint too much of a harem person and im not yet totally into "takumi gets every girl (and hopefully boys, so far we have eito, which is nice and all, but if theres every girl, throw in the boys too (i absolutely dont mind fuckpiles tho, everyone dates and fuck everyone is based in fiction.) ) so yeah i vibe with both, platonic or romantic, it works for them. Then the story shift to existential dread near the end, as the core question becomes "what is identity" / a ship of theseus Clone version Or absorption phisolophical / morale questiing (its not really a ship of theseus, but i dont really know another name that would fit, and i wont call it "the blob dilemna", maybe "A Color Out Of Space" Dilemna ?) I REALLY liked the parallels between darumi's psychology around death being naturally oposed in harmony to the retsnom, one is an absorbing and mutating being that grows up until becoming entirely "something" lives at that something, and dies upon realizing what it trully is, and the other is a girl constantly in the verge of death with a low inferiority complex, trauma, and lack of understanding of how to do well with people, but who deep downs want to live, and maybe hopefully change. Her final decision to become all so all are happy also makes a lot of sense, I really like the approach that the retsnom didnt impersonate darumi, they "became" the darumi retsnom, taking her view of how she deals with others to the next level, from a girl who doesnt mind / wants to be the odd one and hated so that people at least unite regarding it, and because shes used it, to someone that will become all to make everything happy. You can feel she genuienly belives in her views. and is not just "ill become all to be god / because i was meant too / because im hungry" Now the very controversial part IN THE CONTEXT OF THE GAME PLOT / LORE / THEMES I genuenelly think this is one of the most wholesome ending, YES the futurum will all die, BUT if i remember correctly the flames leave corpses, and i can totally see the darumi retsnom bring back to life all the futurans upon learning the truth, she even absorbed v'ehxness after all. And genuenly, regarding the "impossible peace to this war" situation, it might just be the best thing. which i completely get is controversial regarding the whole "existential dread" aspect, im helped in that by the fact that while darumi retsnom will absorb all, and "be all" like she already did to the crew, (at least she asked takumi, i just hope that the "refusal her proposal" decision dont have her do "TOO BAD, IM DOING IT ANYWAY" cos that would be disapointing (i think its way more likely she kills herself upon learning he doesnt agree) ) The beings she absorbs and recreate keep their personalities and memories, she influences them for peace by making everyone understand each other, but she doesnt really "brainwash" (at least def not as hard as we saw with the rest of the game war crimes). at least it was the case for the crew.

[scoobydoodean]

the reaction to that quiz was very funny. definitely a 'how fake dean!girls look when real dean!girls come at them' moment. never seen so many people start frothing at the mouth over a harmless joke

context

Tbh my perception of the uquiz was that it mainly upset deancrit casgirls, though the deangirls who follow them certainly weren't happy with me either. Granted, I didn't take very much care not to offend people when I posted the uquiz, because I didn't expect it to spread (I intended it for a handful of mutuals and followers). But literally the questions were like, True or False?

Dean is not largely responsible for Sam and Cas's emotional issues.

Dean desires to control everyone in his life. It's a defining facet of his character.

People should have laughed at Dean's jokes more.

Dean is the better brother.

The finale is bad.

And multiple replies in the notes were like, "I just love nuance!" Ah yes... the extreme "nuance" to Dean being largely responsible for two other adults problems and choices... his adult baby children who need to suckle at his nursing tits. <<<< This sort of "mean" language from me developed... almost immediately after the uquiz drama cooled off because I kept seeing even more condescension being hurled at Deangirls on their blogs and at that point had a lot more first-hand experience with the underlying arrogance and mean-spirited desperation for control behind it. I simply had enough.

Literally I had a meme blog at the time I posted that uquiz (well—still do but don't use it much) with about 40 times the followers I had on this account when I posted that quiz in April, and I used my meme account for years to make fun of Sam, Dean, Cas, and a variety of other characters, and my jokes weren't always super nice. People got mad at me sometimes, but never more than two or three at a time. Never once over years of using that blog to post memes every single day (while the show was airing too—so more traffic) did I get a reaction even remotely like the reaction that uquiz got and it is endlessly funny.

I returned here in early 2023 (after being mostly absent in 2022) seeing a lot of very odd things. For one, people were freely interacting with each other more, which I thought was great (I remembered an spnblr characterized by extremely insular attitudes). However, within the notes of some of the posts that I and others were writing, I noticed a thinly-veiled message from certain camps responding: "I don't like this post. I don't like what you said, and neither do my friends, and you should watch what you say."

It was honestly pretty transparent in a few different cases despite, often enough, a friendly mask. I was told very quickly, for example, that discussing Emma as if she was actually Dean's daughter (she quite literally was) is considered old and tired and no one wanted to hear it (this was on a post Emma's parentage had... almost nothing to do with btw, and that more largely, was about hypocrisy in deancrit circles over Dean committing acts of violence against children—and that post had done well, so clearly other people were actually fine with it). Tbh, it felt like, covered by a "friendly", "joking" exterior—someone was putting an arm around my shoulder as I entered a new environment and telling me "the way things are" and how I ought to assimilate.

I was told that making memes pointing out the gigantic blinders people spewing deancrit were wearing was in bad taste, because Dean is "popular", therefore it makes sense that he receives the most criticism (Thor voice: does it really?) and saw other posts stating the same. I saw multiple posts where people said they were "tired" of people talking about Dean... not a specific take on Dean—but Dean as a whole—when absolutely no one was preventing them from controlling what they saw on their own dash, unfollowing accounts that largely discussed characters they didn't want to talk about, or filtering whatever names they wanted—no—that wasn't good enough—they needed to control what other people were posting, and make them stop talking about Dean on their own blogs. They were literally trying to control how other people had fun in their own spaces.

At the same time, I was seeing someone I'd just begun following for a string of posts (and subsequent brigading that occurred over it) getting hounded for nothing more than posting a poll featuring events that canonically occur in Supernatural around the season 14 finale—facts that deancrits apparently found inconvenient enough to spew hate mail over for literal months. I saw multiple accounts I was newly following receive deeply condescending notes and mail from people who engaged with them in blatant bad faith and acted superior for it. I saw even completely harmless "fun" posts get notes from little groups of fans huddled together openly mocking the OP in tags for not sharing their clearly "superior" taste.

Meanwhile, deangirls, as far as I saw, were not engaging in this behavior back. They were endeavoring to be polite when people came onto their blogs to debate with them in condescending tones (and even make ridiculous claims about their personal morals). They weren't going on these people's blogs and talking down to them (as they shouldn't). They were having fun, engaging with people whose company they enjoyed, and deancrits apparently couldn't stand this. It suggested to me and reminded me... well—that deanfans have long been expected to be made of heel skin in fandom circles, to shoulder and accept absolutely any and all criticism of Dean, while samgirls and casgirls consistently tend to be made of tissue paper and can't handle the barest shred of criticism of their fave without having meltdowns (that can and do, in fact, sometimes include mass bullying and hate mail and suicide bait and death threats). The fact that my uquiz was somehow interpreted as "seething hatred" for Sam and Cas was fucking laughable.

I still won't go onto other people's pages or bring disk horse to them. In fact, I'm very protective of my personal dash and curate my experience as much as I can. But I did decide not to be made of heel skin anymore from my personal blog just so other people can be made of tissue paper. If that's received by some as me being mean, well—I'll take a page out of the deancrit playbook and say my feelings are largely their responsibility.

[undeath1245]

Former predictions for episode six

Here is my list of poorly aged predictions for episode six, including one unfinished prediction. Feel free to read them.

One of my previous predictions include a battle between the Murder Drone Trio and Team Tessa's Super Cool Murder Squad (new member: Doll apparently), either they exchange words first or the battle starts immediately. It's most likely the latter, but then again, I'd like to see N happily reunite with Tessa, maybe both of them running towards each other and hugging afterwards; bonus points if Tessa does the "grabs onto N's robo-cheeks and twirling him like a little brother she never had" thing. Doll would then tell Uzi to get out of here, prompting Uzi to call out Doll for going as low as to team up with not only a disassembly drone (the very kind she sought to hunt down), but a human JCJenson worker as well. Soon, things would get super hectic, accusations and hypocrisy would start flying here and there, and as N would try to ease tensions between the two parties, the battle commences immediately.

The battle would probably go like this: Uzi goes after Tessa, the human worker she assumes to be responsible for sending the disassemblers here, though J would also go after Uzi; V catches Doll's attention, prompting the latter to go after her; N would probably be blown away from the battleground to the colony by Uzi, V, and J combined. Missiles go flying, blades go striking, and a lot of anime-style fighting comes around, goes around; I am not good with coming up with battle sequences. Later on, the combatants switch opponents: Uzi goes after an angry Doll and tries to reason her out of her unforgiving rage, and N and V team up against Tessa and J, the former of which tries to tell N that Uzi and Doll needs to be disposed of. But, N would refute by saying that Uzi is more in-control of her solver powers than Tessa believes, even saying that she helped removed CYN out of his and V's minds, which somehow worries Tessa more. But soon enough, N's argument would falter when he and the other opponents see Uzi battling Doll in her solver form.

I think that while this is happening, Doll will break down, crying out that Uzi shouldn't have to involve herself in this madness, that she should go home, enjoy her normal life, and be with her father who is alive and kicking. While Doll is crying, Uzi would go to her and place a hand on her shoulder, saying in Russian, "I understand what you're trying to say, but I'm afraid I've went too far to get to where I am." I have a headcanon that all drones have a unique translation feature, with subtitles appearing in their visor, which could explain how Uzi could understand Doll. I also think that they can switch to any language of their choosing, like Jenny Wakeman from My Life as a Teenage Robot when she was speaking to Japanese citizens in "Speak No Evil". Uzi would then state that she has to find out what's wrong with her once and for all, and either Doll helps her or stays out of her way. With that, Doll surrenders and the battle ends with a stalemate.

I imagine that there would be a nice campfire scene afterwards, with the drones and Tessa having to rest after a hectic fight, each of them realizing that they now share one goal: find a way to get rid of CYN once and for all. Tessa proposes that they form a temporary truce to head towards Camp 98.7 and find some clues on CYN's weakness. N agrees wholeheartedly, hoping to use this opportunity to have Uzi and Tessa bond with each other. The other drones reluctantly agree, and all six set out towards the campsite. As soon as the drones leave, Uzi would then threaten Tessa that if she ever betray them, or even hurt N, she'll kill her. Tessa threatens her back with her sword, saying that she will never hurt N, and if Uzi ever goes haywire again, she will destroy her. N would then come back and check on the two, and Tessa would say that Uzi had something stuck in her teeth, so she tried to get it out with her sword. Uzi would go along with this.

Remember the Protagonist's Journey chart seen on Uzi's presentation in the first episode? And on the very bottom, there's a skull that represents revelation yet can also refer to death? I think this episode will be when Uzi gets temporarily killed off.

So, how many do you think aged super poorly?

[blueopinions49]

Hello Hello, well I will start writing to me so that you can help me a little in my MBTI and enneatype, sorry if it is very long but I need to know me at once, so sorry. I would like to start that I am a person who does not tolerate disorder and lack of consideration, basically I usually have problems with some friends who are my roommates, they are messy, then I can not be quiet and go to sleep or rest a little because it bothers me the chaos, more in my environment, That is why many times I do not wait for them to tidy up and I do it myself, but other times it makes me very angry, because while I make my effort they do not care and many times I tell them to the point of taking out their dirty laundry or truths that I did not want to say not to offend, but other times when they fix it they do not do it as I do, that is, with care and efficiency,I am not able to open up easily, but once a few weeks go by I can become more confident, show myself as I really am, in short, I can talk, converse if I have to and it is not difficult for me but I can not make my jokes or be funny which is what characterizes me, Well on the other hand I am also kind when talking to a person I know but I usually take the first step osea if it is a person who is shy I like to give security so I ask questions or try to tell me things that they want to say, but that only happens with people who are shy.

While people who are not shy, there if I prefer to listen to them and ask me questions, and if I feel comfortable I can also ask them questions to know them but it only happens if I feel they are nice, Well another thing I want to tell is that I am not afraid to lead if I have to do it. But I am quite rigorous, you could even say that I am quite serious when it comes to something in which I am in charge, I do not like to do things wrong, I always try to do my best, but in this case, if I am not the leader of a project or whatever I still like to do my part very well. I do not like to fit into what others think I like to show myself as I am and not change, because if I change I would feel guilty for being a person who I am not.

I am afraid to break the rules because I don't like to be called attention, that's why I am more careful with what I do, but not everything is like that, I also do some things that may hurt me but I don't worry because somehow I try to find a solution, Another point is that I don't like injustice, if I see that something is wrong I can get involved in the matter, but only if they get involved with a friend or relative, animals or a vulnerable person, but if it were another person, maybe I would only ask for help to another person depending, but I wouldn't be with my arms crossed without doing anything.

I don't know how easy it is for me to show affection, it really makes me a little uncomfortable, but although I don't show it I always try not to be so rude because I know that some people can be like that and I respect it, but it's not that I'm cold, I can only be a little warmer if it's a person I've known for a long time like my sister or even my friends but they are very few.

I am also a person who forgives but does not forget , I only accept apologies if it is about simple things but if it goes further like disloyalty or hypocrisy there if I prefer to turn away and if they come to apologize to me, I accept them but I would no longer talk to those people, I am sentimental that is I can cry easily especially if it is about something in which I feel guilty so to feel good and because my conscience screams at me, I do everything to solve it because I do not like to be a proud or proud person, but many times when I am in my unhealthy state, I do not care about the feelings of others even could get to hurt which I know is wrong and is something I should improve, and finally for me will always be the duty before my own tastes, I do not know if that is wrong or right but I always try to have more balance between what I like and my duty. That's all, sorry if it's long, again.

Sorry if it is too much, thanks for reading and I hope it serves for your respective response.

hmm okay so from what ive gathered I think

ESTJ SiTe 1w2 sp/so 163

Focus on order and having a working environment (very Te related)

Bound by duty and believe you can't enjoy things SP1

focus and balance ( very E1)

You seem like a competency type from what you said

I thought of ISTJ first but from what I understood you seemed more focused on the working of the environment rather than creating that step by step process.

Also don't worry I don't mind answering questions. Im here to answer questions about typology

[selodka-pod-shuboy]

listen

"the distortionist" by ghost and pals fits Helen so well

we dont know if once entering the mirror she broke it (mag 047), but if we interpret like she did (which can be seen as a big stretch, i will admit) the song fits almost perfectly: while she is a victim of distortion, the Helen that is left is no longer her, and although she does help the main crew throught seasons 4 and 5, she is not doing that with no ill intent. its all just a facade for her lies. most lyrics can be her telling the archivist her last words, her excuseon why she shouldnt be obliterated by the ceasless watcher.

"In all this madness, it's madness Oh-ho, it's sickening, it's sickening You know it's unfair, it's unfair How you distorted my reflection You know it's too late"

could be her interpretation of what happened to her the second time she was in the corridors and the moment she opens her own door for the first time.

"You're lost in a world of funhouse mirrors, twisted for eternity Bending light in a way that shows refraction of hypocrisy"

just her first encounter with the corridors.

"Whimsical, dear, your lies are clear, now, who the hell would've ever guessed? Play my games and abide my ways, there's no way you can compensate (One, two, three, break)"

could be Jon saying his last words to her and the first time this lyric appeares can be how she tells him that he cant do anything in her own domain, and:

"And sure, I'm the one who swung the metal bat But hey, I can't control the urge! Nobody's gonna blame me for that"

could be Jon knowing there are no dire consequences for destroying Helen, which also circles back to how Helen freed Jon from Micheal in her first appearance as the distortion

anyway thank you for reading through my ramblings i just think its really neat whenever songs fit certain characters/situations and had to share. id love to hear if you have anything to add. also i know that you're not really into tma as you were a few months ago and i know you did playlists regarding the fears but i cant seem to find them so i apologise if you added this one already and did an analysis for a possible interpretation but it has not left for a quite a bit now

Thank you so much for sharing this, dear friend!

Feel free to drop more of those, they are a delight to read! I agree on almost every point, except for the last one - I would argue that it's in fact still Helen, trying to convince Jon, that it's in her very nature to distort and lie, and that he, or anybody on their level (watchers) can't be mad or judgemental at her for potentially having ill intent (she so does).

Similarly to this she also would use:

"Ignorant atrocities and colorless apologies

This isn't what it looks to be

I'm not as cruel as you see me"

I would like to add some other thoughts on the lyrics

"The truth projected through a lens with nothing proving otherwise"

Like, only way Jon was able to kill her so fast, was due to her accidentally burping out a genuine lie, that was not in any way distorted or concealed, nor cleverly and nicely folded into paranoia. It could as well be plain truth to him, and the lens that he was looking through.

"Stuck in a spotlight brighter than the smile no one ever saw"

Giving The Great Twisting and Sanikov Land