#threading: it's a funny old world isn't it

[izanagifortune]

@ruinakete continued from here:

BOREDOM COULD LEAD A KINGDOM INTO RUINS; was it not human nature to take until satisfied? to quell one's disinterest by any means necessary? thus, this interaction was fate, foretold by a stereotyped compatibility that the dragon's den would be approached by an awfully bored soul━━━a man whose whimsy was as horridly informal as his vocabulary. this was not the first time the dragon's gaze had fallen on the strange man, nor would it be the last. however his reputation may precede him, izana's starting mannerisms crack open the dilated eyes of this mage dragon. it blinked at him, stiffly sat on the cathedral's first pew, claws unmoving in its lap; an awful contrast to the white robes they rest above. madam zephia. its countenance faltered, stuck between the beginnings of a scowl and a smile. yet it spoke with an air of enthusiasm, tilting its head up to meet his gaze properly, "oh? well, entertainment is hardly a one-way road. you amuse me and i, you, yes?" after all, the lack of activity within the clergy was bound to send its members scrambling for some crumb of delight outside of the casual kneeling and chores they━━━and she━━━were tasked with. thus, the mage dragon was quick to rise from the pew, hands clasped as it regarded izana with a minor curiosity; as humored as it appeared annoyed. "however, this work has become a bore, hasn't it? well," its hand reached to pat his arm, already beginning to move toward the ajar doors that led to the monastery's bridge, "come now, stranger. your company will have to do, i suppose." a pause in stride; sangria eyes glanced back at izana's eyes. the wicked grin pulling at zephia's lips had not matched the consideration within honeyed words, "lest staying among the masses is safer for you? privacy will not scare you, no? hm-hm, the choice is yours."

"Nope! Privacy or people, it doesn't matter to me! A party of two is just as fine as with many!" He practically skips towards the bridge, more eager to leave the cathedral than to stay in it, "that old church is full of stuffy people and stuffy things though! Fresh air is good for me, and everyone else of course!"

Blinding white hair (yes, tragically beautiful; wasn't it?) flutters in the light breeze of the day as he steps outside. Shoes tapping gently against the ground, he turns back to Lady Zephia with a mischevious grin, "Of course! I can entertain you as well! Fortunes or jokes? I can certainly do either!"

He had plently of other party tricks up his sleeves (His rather large sleeves. They could fit a lot!) but there was far too many to mention in a simple short sentence! Best to focus on his best talents! (His fortune were not just simply a talent! They were a gift from the very gods above! Not to brag~)

"I mean, tell me about yourself, doll! A conversation is the start of all great things; isn't it?"

[izanagifortune]

Saying that Izana had been looking at the board would be a complete and utter lie. He didn't look at anything! (Except for the lovely visions granted to him by the benevolant gods, amen.)

"Oho?" Izana chuckles softly as a student approaches, smirking playfully, "Little old me? I mean, of course you would want to go on a mission with someone as blessed and splendid as I!" He makes a show of throwing his ponytail over his shoulder, before quickly peeking one eye open to see what he was dealing with.

Nothing special really, but Izana can't help but feel he's seen this kid somewhere before. A recent vision maybe? Nah, that couldn't be it, he would remember that!

(To be fair, he did have quite a few visions... surely he couldn't be expected to remember all of them right? Pfffftt, of course not! That would be ridiculous!)

"Oh yeah! Right. That stinky old bishop told me to go hunt down some arms dealers or whatever!" He laughs loudly, "I mean, arms dealer? I hardly know her!"

If he had to go on missions that he would only end up already knowing the outcomes of, he would at least like to have a little fun with it!

"I can't fight at alllllllll if it comes to that, so you better be good, kid!"

magic eight ball says "you're having a terrible day".

mission board / fracture. | [+1 Reason]

Sothe hates being idle.

Well, classes and training and day-to-day chores isn't really idle, but he feels stir-crazy wandering the monastery, trying to accustom himself to an unfamiliar environment. The mission board is enticing to him if only as a break away from the monotony, the settled peace he's not quite sure how to handle.

Stillness has never been something he could accept, after all, even as he's longed for it.

The listings make his brow crease - it takes him a frustrating few moments to parse even one paper, printed in too-close letters as it is. Giving up entirely on further scrutinizing, he turns instead towards the others in the vicinity - does anyone look hesitant? Looking for company? He is not a team player, at least with strangers, but he is also not so naïve as to think he could handle the tasks on his own.

He's only just reached Micaiah again - reached Edward, reached Leonardo, reached even Pelleas.

White hair is always his vice - some subconscious recognition, filing it away as familiar. He's unafraid to ask, at least -

"Which mission are you taking? I'm looking for someone to go with."

[ @izanagifortune ]

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry) 

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?

She wasn't fine. Colette was so far from fine that it wasn't even funny anymore.

And now her twin brother had decided to chime in with his own opinions, pouring oil into the fire. 

The thought of the media dissecting every word, every gesture, every expression was unbearable. And still, she couldn't stop herself from doomscrolling.

Colette was in a state of constant anxiety, unable to stop herself from scrolling through social media and the news articles. She knew it wasn't helping her, that it was only adding to her stress, but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the screen.

Every article, every comment, every thread seemed to only add to her worry. The criticism, the speculation, the accusations...it was all too much. But she couldn't look away or stop herself from reading every word, no matter how much it hurt.

She was stuck in a vicious, spiralling cycle, seeking out the information, even though she knew it was bad for her. 

The hormones and the pregnancy symptoms didn't make it any better either. 

The hormones made her emotions more intense, her anxiety more pronounced, and the pregnancy symptoms only added to the stress and discomfort. She wanted desperately for it to end, but it seemed like it would never stop.

The worst of it all was the constant swirl of thoughts in her head. The worry and fear, the relentless stream of "what-if" scenarios.

And the most terrifying thought of all: what if her stress was hurting the baby? The idea that her anxiety could harm the little life growing inside her was a constant one, always at the front of her mind.

“Eat, Choupinette,” her mother insisted. Colette stared down at her plate. Porridge and fruit and whatever else was supposed to be good for her these days. 

But her appetite was nonexistent. The weight of everything that was happening, the thoughts and fears that were running through her mind...it made it difficult to even think about food.

"Eat, Choupinette," her mother insisted again, clearly concerned. "You need to eat something, for the baby's sake. You're too pale."

“I am..”

“You aren’t fine,” her mother cut her off with a disbelieving snort. "You're pale, you haven't been eating properly, and you look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"And don't even try to tell me that the pregnancy is doing that," her mother added, her tone firm. "I had three pregnancies, I know how tiring it is. This isn't just normal exhaustion."

Colette knew that her mother was right. The pregnancy, while exhausting, wasn’t the reason. It was the anxiety, the worry, the stress...it was all taking its toll on her.

But she also knew that there was nothing she could do about it. The situation was out of her control, even if it was affecting her directly.

It was her own fault why she was in this situation to begin with. 

“I was so stupid.” Colette's shoulders slumped as she muttered under her breath. Her mother shook her head, disagreeing with the assessment.

 "It wasn't the smartest thing," her mother admitted. "But the media is blowing it out of proportion. They're making an elephant out of a fly."

It was a sentiment that Colette wholeheartedly agreed with. But at the same time, she knew that the media was relentless in their pursuit of a story. 

And Colette’s and Max's relationship would be the juiciest scandal they had gotten their hands on in a long, long time.

“I don’t want this to fall back on Charles,” Colette whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

Her brother had worked so hard to be where he was, at the pinnacle of motorsport…to drive for the team he loved so much. 

She didn’t want to get Charles into any trouble. It wasn’t his fault. It was all on her. And any scandal, any whiff of controversy, could potentially ruin everything Charles had worked so hard for.

Her mother's words were calm, but they hit hard. "Your brother is an adult," she repeated. "He can make his own decisions. And he was the one who decided he wanted to protect you. You didn’t force him to do anything, Choupinette."

Colette knew that her mother was right. Charles was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. But that didn't make her worry any less.

Her phone rang, her hand immediately shooting out for it. It was Max. Her hand was almost shaking as she answered the call.

"Maxie," she breathed, relief and worry mixing in her voice.

Max's voice was gentle, a soothing balm in the storm of chaos that was swirling around her. "Hey liefje," he repeated, the affectionate nickname rolling off his tongue.

Colette closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the sound of his voice.

"What are you up to?" Max inquired, his tone soft. 

"I'm having breakfast with Maman," she replied, glancing at her mother, who was watching her carefully.  

There was a moment of silence on the line, but she could almost picture Max's expression. He was no doubt worrying just as much as she was, if not more. "How are you doing?" he finally asked, his voice laced with concern. 

Colette let out a shaky sigh, her emotions warring inside her.

She wanted to lie. Wanted to tell him that she was fine. But Max and her had made themselves a promise ages ago. If there was one thing that Max hated, then it was lying. Even little white lies like this. They didn’t lie. They didn’t sugarcoat. They told the truth. Regardless of how hurtful it could be. 

They told each other the truth. Always. 

“Tired,” she answered weakly. 

"I heard you've been stalking social media again," Max's voice was dry, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

"Charles should really mind his own business," she bit back, her irritation at her twin brother evident. There was just one person that Max could have learnt that from. 

There was a pause, and she knew that Max was choosing his words carefully.  "He's just worried," he said finally. "We all are."

Colette huffed, her irritation at being coddled smouldering. "I don't need everyone to worry about me," she retorted, her tone snippier than she intended.

"We're not doing it to annoy you," Max replied, his voice gentle but firm. "We're doing it because we care about you.  I'm worried about you, liefje."

Those words were like a knife through the heart. She could hear the worry and concern in his voice, and it made her feel guilty for being so snappy with him.

Sassy chose that moment to come to jump up on her lap and she petted the Bengal cat absent-mindedly as she made herself a home on Colette’s lap. 

"I know you are," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I just..." she trailed off, unsure of how to put her mixed feelings into words. Sassy purred softly. 

"It's okay," Max reassured her, his voice low and soothing. "I know it's hard. But please, try to take care of yourself. For me. For Bébé."

Colette felt the tears well up in her eyes again. She wanted to tell him that she was trying, that she was doing her best. But the words lodged in her throat, replaced by a thick lump of emotion.

"I'm trying," she managed to say, hating how weak and shaky her voice sounded.

"I know you are," Max murmured, his voice full of understanding. "But you need to rest, to eat. You're not doing yourself or the baby any favors by skipping meals and staying glued to your phone."

Colette knew he was right. The lack of food and sleep was taking its toll on her health and her baby. But the stress, and the worry, it made it hard to find an appetite or to switch off her brain.

"I know," she whispered, feeling helpless and frustrated. Max sighed softly on the other end of the line. 

"I wish I could be there," he said, the longing in his voice palpable.

"Me too," she whispered, her heart aching with the weight of their separation.

"I hate being apart during all of this," he mumbled, a rare show of vulnerability from him. "I should be there with you, taking care of you, protecting you from all this damn media noise."

Colette's eyes welled with tears again at his words. "You are taking care of me," she reassured him, her voice thick with emotion. "Just hearing your voice helps more than you know."

"It's not enough," he retorted, his voice firm again. "I should be there, not just talking with you over the phone. I should be able to hold you, to make sure you eat and sleep properly."

Colette could picture the fierce expression on his face, the set of his jaw. She could almost feel the intensity of his gaze, his desire to protect and care for her. But she could also hear the frustration and helplessness in his voice.

"Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "It's not your fault. You're doing everything you can."

Max let out another sigh, a sound full of frustration and helplessness. "It doesn't feel like it," he mumbled, his voice betraying his emotions. "I feel so useless here, stuck continents away while you're dealing with all of this alone."

Colette's heart ached at his words. She wanted to assure him that he wasn't useless, that his support through the phone and the occasional visit meant the world to her. But she also understood how powerless he felt, how useless he must feel, miles and miles away from her.

"You're not useless," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. "You're the only thing keeping me sane right now."

There was a pause on the line, and she could sense Max's turmoil on the other end. "I just wish I could do more," he said quietly. "I wish I could take all this away from you, the stress, the worry, the media. You shouldn't have to deal with all this alone."

Colette felt a fresh burst of tears at his words. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't Superman, that he couldn't fix everything, but she also knew that he would never accept that. Max was a doer, a problem solver. Watching her struggle from afar must be killing him.

"I'm not alone," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I have you. That's more than enough."

"It's not enough," he mumbled again, the stubborn set to his words making her smile despite herself. She could almost see the familiar stubborn pout on his face even from so far away. "I'm serious," he insisted, his voice firmer now. "I should be the one taking care of you and our baby, not just chatting on the phone."Colette let out a quiet sigh, a mix of amusement and frustration at Max's stubbornness. She loved that he cared so much, but at the same time, she didn't want him to feel guilty for something that was out of his control.

"Max," she said gently, trying to make him understand. "You do take care of us, even from miles away. Just knowing that you're there for me, that you love us, it means everything. We're a team, remember? We're in this together."

There was another silence on the line, and she could practically picture Max clenching his jaw. She knew that he wanted to protest, that he wanted to argue, to find a solution to make things right. But he also understood that there was nothing he could do right now but accept the situation.

Finally, he sighed, the sound a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Okay," he said quietly. "But promise me you'll try to eat and sleep properly. Promise me you'll take care of yourself and our baby."

Colette couldn't help the tears that rolled down her cheeks at his concern. She could hear the love and worry in his voice, the desperate plea for her to take care of herself.

"I promise," she whispered, her voice wobbly but firm. "I'll take care of myself. For you, for Bébé. I promise."

She would even let go of the fact that she was pretty sure that her family were babysitting her. When her mother went home after breakfast, it didn't take too long for Arthur to show up, happily ignoring her pointing out that he actually had work to do and instead he joined her on the couch watching re-runs of The Real Housewives.

Colette rolled her eyes at Arthur's unashamed enjoyment of the reality TV show. He had always been a sucker for messy drama, and the housewives provided plenty of that.

"You are ridiculous," she mumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Oh, shut up," Arthur retorted cheerfully, his eyes never leaving the screen. "You love this show and you know it."

"I do not," Colette protested, but it sounded halfhearted, even to her own ears.

Quite frankly, she would rather watch fake drama on TV than think about the one happening in real life to her.

Bébé decided at that moment to kick her in her ribs again and she grimaced.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked her immediately.

Colette let out a wince as the baby kicked her again. "Yeah, just baby kicking my ribs again. It's getting more and more frequent," she mumbled, rubbing the spot on her stomach where the baby had kicked.

Arthur chuckled. "The baby's probably just feeling cramped. They want more space," he teased.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," Colette replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe the baby's just getting impatient and wants to come out already," Arthur said with a shrug, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"Don't even joke about that," Colette said, her tone serious. "I still have another month to go. He better stay in there until then.”

She still had around 4 weeks of pregnancy left. 

"Still thinking it's a boy?" Arthur asked her curious.

Colette nodded, her hand still resting on her stomach. "Yeah, I just have a feeling. Call it a mother's intuition," she said with a small smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes in amusement. "Or just wishful thinking," he teased her.  "Isn't Max convinced it's a girl?" 

Colette chuckled, thinking about Max's adamant belief that the baby was a girl. "Yeah, he is. He has ordered a bunch of dresses online," she said with a laugh. “And hairbows...so many hairbows…If it's a boy, I don't know what I'll do with all of them."

Arthur started laughing.

Colette shot him a playful glare. "Don't laugh at my predicament," she said, but the effect was ruined by the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Arthur couldn't help himself, bursting into another fit of laughter. "I'm sorry, it's just too funny picturing Max buying all those dresses and hairbows," he managed to say between chuckles. 

Her phone pinged again.  Colette huffed in irritation as Arthur picked up her phone before she could. "Hey, that's mine," she protested.

Arthur just shot her a cheeky grin. "Finders keepers," he teased, waving the phone just out of her reach. "Besides, no more doomscrolling for you," her younger brother told her seriously.

Colette rolled her eyes at his reprimand, but deep down, she knew he was right. "I wasn't doomscrolling," she mumbled petulantly, even though she knew it was a blatant lie.

"I just...People are making up opinions about me and my life and they don't know me," she said weakly. "That's why I don't even have a public Instagram in the first place, Arthur. I just want to live my life without worrying about what people are going to think..."

"What does it matter what they think?" Arthur asked her curiously.

Colette let out a frustrated sigh. "It shouldn't matter, I know it shouldn't," she said firmly. "But it does. Maybe it's human nature to care what other people think, I don't know."

She ran a hand through her hair tiredly. "I just don't want people to judge me, to make assumptions about my life and my decisions."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "I get it," he said softly. "It can be hard to block out the noise. But you have to remember that the only opinion that matters is your own."

Colette let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, tell that to the media," she mumbled, but there was no vitriol in her voice, just resignation.

Arthur huffed, shaking his head. "The media don't know what they're talking about. They just want the next big headline, the next scandal. They don't care about the truth."

Colette sighed, slumping back on the couch. "I just wish they'd leave me alone," she mumbled. "I just want to have my baby in peace."

Arthur patted her leg comfortingly. "Just focus on yourself and the baby," he said firmly. "Everything else is just background noise."

Colette nodded, taking a deep breath. He was right, of course. “They have this picture of me in their head, that’s very different from the actual person,” she said weakly. “And now they judge me for something that they don’t even know what it was, because it’s not public. They just take Russell’s word and run with it…”

Arthur's expression darkened as she vented. "I know," he said softly. "It's unfair and it sucks. But you can't let it get to you."

Colette sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "I know. I know.”

"You don't owe anyone anything," Arthur said firmly. "You don't have to justify yourself to anyone. Max would say the same."

Colette smiled wryly at the mention of Max. She could almost hear his voice in her head, telling her the same thing.

She closed her eyes, picturing Max's face in her mind. He always knew what to say to keep her grounded, to keep her from spiralling into a dark pit of despair. She missed him, more than she thought was possible.

"I just wish Maxie was here," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion.

[tojisdeadwife]

cw: angst-ish? mentions of death, decomposition, bugs, implied suicidal gojo, sorcery high society and stuff like that <3

Thinking about a grieving Gojo Satoru.

Too young to die, but you did, anyway. There's no way to return you to life - and why? Why must he return you to a life you didn't want? You're better off six feet down, in a wooden coffin that hides and protects your corpse from the thoughts that plague his mind.

Dig you back up. Break that stupid coffin open, and watch your face for the last time. Have the maggots already eaten your face? Have your lips dried and cracked? Were your eyes still in place, or were they already withered? Would you come back to life if he kissed your cold, dead lips again and again? Would the coldness of your body seep into his own? Were your clothes wrinkled or were they as pristine as they were the last time he saw you wear them?

Would you have bugs and insects all over your skin? Were you tainted with dirt? He'd like to feel you against him for one last dance. Would the grayish-blue tint of your skin shine under the moonlight, and would your bones crack if he took you out? What would happen if he pressed his ear against your chest? Does alcohol, formalin and glycerin run in your system instead of blood? If he spoke to you, would your hum like you used to, or would you stay silent? Would you reply to his lame jokes with a “real funny, ‘toru” or would only the caw of crows be his response in the dead of night?

He can't stand to think this. The thoughts only seem to plague his mind. Who would be there to listen to him? He already lost Suguru. Shoko is affected, too, even if she doesn't let it show. Nanamin… He's gone, too. His students are too young. They need him to be strong. They're just kids.

But you were… Well, you were you. You were his only true friend, the only person he could count on even after everything. You were the one who helped him get back on his feet when he thought he couldn't do anything anymore, the one that got him his favorite sweets. So funny how something as mundane as buying him those cheap lollipops makes his chest tighten and a lump form on his throat. They taste like you. He swears he can see you clearly in front of him, a bunch of lollipops in one hand and a family sized bag of your favorite chips on the other, while he carries your favorite chunky sauce and the rest of the groceries for a very much needed Friday movie night in which you both would fall asleep on the first thirty minutes.

But you're not there. Friday movie nights are over. He's buying chips for nobody. Nobody waits for him at home.

Your laughter still rings in his ears, but it's an echo from the past. Your scent clings to him but he's wearing your perfume and your hair tie in his wrist. His usually bright blue eyes blur with unshed tears behind his dark blindfold, but he wears a smile despite everything. He is the strongest, isn't he? He can't afford to be weak, especially not now - his students depend on him.

The weight of the world is on his shoulders, and you were once there with him, helping him carry the burden. But now he's alone again. More alone than ever, and not even Gojo Satoru can stand that. Not after having you by his side, showing him he can be loved for him and not just his power and status.

He sits by your tombstone, with his long legs crossed and his gaze distant. He didn't even bother putting on the blindfold. A couple days old stubble grows on his face, and there's bags under his eyes. His muscles seem less defined, and his clothes seem to get bigger on his body. Unpolished, unlike himself. Small, for the first time.

“I'm tired, sweets.” Satoru murmurs with a strange voice, like a stranger has taken his body and wrecked it from the inside. He can feel himself rotting every single day that passes, the thread of his life getting thinner and thinner - and he can't wait for that final snap. He’ll take the damn scissors from Atropos herself and cut it himself. Just take him out of his misery.

Along the weight of the world on his shoulders, something weighs in his pocket. His left pocket, precisely. A small velvet box with a ring he wanted to give you - not asking your hand in marriage, of course, (not yet, anyway), but as a promise. A ring he saw and immediately thought of you. Of you wearing that gorgeous silver band with the azure gemstones that look just like his eyes and had his initials engraved inside, while he wore a matching one, with your eye color as the gemstones and your initials engraved on the inside of the band.

He just never had the time. Neither one. Too busy with missions and paperwork and teaching, it just never came up. And now it sits heavier than the weight of the sorcery society that was put on him. The same society that killed you and he has grown to resent and even hate.

He never got to fulfill the promise of a life together. Worse yet, he never got to confess his desire for a life together, and that's what hurts him the most. You never knew. You died, and he was such a coward that he never got to tell you how much he loved you.

a/n: very high-key inspired by cemetery girl - insane clown posse hehe. i finally wrote for gojo and look what came out. oh well.

[tinygenderfluid]

You know what's kinda insane to me?

The fact that Ash Ketchum isn't famous in the pokemon universe, like in-universe.

You mean to tell me that a ten-year-old going region to region, meeting multiple legendaries and solving insane problems with his recognizable as fuck pikachu isn't atleast twitter famous? Not even considered a cryptic that when people say that they met him, he beat their asses in a pokebattle, then continued to also beat a legendary/an evil league/team rocket, that people online don't go: "oooh another region/world wide incident that can go on the conspiracy board, time to put new red threads between this major world-impscting event and the fact that this kid might me god."

I mean, he atleast should be famous in Kalos from the jumping-off-the-Prism-tower-fiasco alone but he also sorta stopped an artificial apocalypse set up by an evil pokemon league using an unidentified legendary and a previously long lost mega-evolution form from a starter pokemon. (It's been a while since I watched the anime, don't get on my ass).

I mean, pokemon champions are kind of considered famous because people recognise them in-universe right? Shouldn't someone online have recognised him from hanging out with so many champions alone? You mean to tell me that if some random ten-year old started showing up in news articles with famous people even if he was just in the background, no one in the entire world would make a reddit post saying 'hey look at this funny coincidence, this kid has been spotted with 5 champions or something' ????????

Buzzfeed unsolved episodes have been made about less.

I get it that he wouldn't become well known from the mewtwo incident - because mewtwo erased the memories of everyone involved if I remember correctly - but you mean to tell me no one remembered him from the three legendary kanto birds and Lugia (saved the world), Entei, Celebi, Latio and Latias and literally every other movie? Sure, say those aren't cannon. WHAT ABOUT THE TIME HE LITERALLY GOT KIDNAPPED BY A THOUGHT TO BE EXTINCT POKEMON IN THE FIRST SEASON?? THAT DINO-ASS FLYING POKEMON THAT FORCED CHARMELEON TO EVOLVE INTO CHARIZARD SO THEY COULD FIGHT IT? HE'S NOT ATLEAST INFAMOUS IN KANTO FOR THAT??

Also you can't tell me that there are a lot of ten-year old who fight in multiple major pokemon leagues in contention for the title of regional pokemon champion.

There has to atleast be one autistic 5-year old and their mother in the pokemon world who know all about Ash Ketchum because his adventures are low-key insane.

[izanagifortune]

Izana winces at her, rather valiant, attempt to try and heal the poor mage, "Okay, maybe not that assertive, doll." He waves at the mage she had been practically smacking her staff at, in an attempt to get them to calm down.

They do not calm down, only doing their best to continue to scramble away despite their injuries.

Ah well, wasn't his fault if they only ended up injuring themselves further. Not his circus, not his monkeys or whatever.

"The poor thing probably still thinks you want money," He supplies helpfully, tapping painting nails anxiously against the festal in his hands, "It's truly a tragic fate our world has come to! If you have even a morsel of talent to offer, people just think you want money for it! It's rather digusting actually."

Pfpfpfpbpptptp, he never wanted money for his glorious visions! Only to share with the world the light that only someone as splendid as him was able to see!

"Keep at it though, girlie! He can't run forever!"

ultimate healing duo GO!

[axkirak]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : II]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEAsians Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: your mother always reminded you, "You will never hate the desert. Your blood is the desert. The desert is your home and your tomb." but You hope desperately that your life will be different.

Status: finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : Previously, I changed the story from a reader-insert to an OC due to backlash for specifying that the reader is SEA. I didn't enjoy writing it and nearly deleted it. However, support from AO3 readers encouraged me to stay true to my original style and affirmed that specifying the reader's ethnicity is not wrong (especially since Manny is also SEA). I’ll stick with the reader-insert style. If you don’t like that the reader is SEA, feel free to find other fics.

Also, today is my birthday. so I decided to give a gift to others by releasing a new chapter of my fanfic. I hope you like it.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread // My mother is my enemy

[Episodes 2] You will never hate the desert. Your blood is the desert. The desert is your home and your tomb

You realize how quickly your life has changed, as your feet tread on the wet sand of Pabu, a small planet far from your birthplace.

Tatooine—where you were born and raised, is almost at the edge of the galaxy. There's nothing pleasant to see except for vast stretches of dry sand. The air is scorching hot because there are two suns in the sky. The cities are teeming with thieves, thugs, and smugglers. You hate your home planet so much, but your mother always reminded you, "You will never hate the desert. Your blood is the desert. The desert is your home and your tomb."

You know that the desert your mother spoke of isn't Tatooine, but another similar planet. An ancient world that disappeared from galactic records along with the death of your ancestors.

It's funny how your family's fate has always been the same: born in the desert and dying in the desert.

You hope desperately that your life will be different.

"Stop daydreaming; we still have a lot of work to do."

Qimir's voice comes from behind. His elbow gently nudges your arm, urging you to hurry off the beach. You turn and glare at him in annoyance, but obediently comply. You lift the cargo box to your side and turn onto the old stone-paved road, the only path leading to the upper town, the main trading hub of this island.

After reluctantly living together for more than two years, you've finally been given an additional role beyond being a prisoner. You're now Qimir's temporary assistant, helping him transport contraband to sell on small planets outside the watchful eyes of the Empire's law enforcers.

Qimir is tall with long legs. It only takes him a few strides to reach your side. "Haven't you ever seen the sea before?" the man asks, noticing that you keep turning to look at the blue ocean.

You nod. The faint, fresh, salty smell of the sea and the strong wind blowing across your face make you feel better than usual. "I grew up on Tatooine. There's only desert there. I've never seen this much water before."

You fall silent, suddenly realizing you've said too much.

No matter what, you always stay cautious. You try to speak as little as possible when you're near this man. But Qimir is the opposite—he talks incessantly, which is annoying. The more you show your irritation, the more he keeps talking. It's obvious he's deliberately trying to provoke you.

And this time is no different. Once he notices you're avoiding further conversation, he takes over, telling you about Pabu and other planets without you asking. You want to pretend not to listen, but deep down, you can't help but be interested. You've never had the chance to travel or learn about life on other planets, having spent most of your time after your mother's death quietly hiding. Until you met Qimir,. He's traveled everywhere, and he seems to know everything. Many things sound nonsensical, but many are too interesting to ignore. Like the story of Mon Cala, a planet that's entirely ocean, with a grand capital city standing tall underwater, and most of its population looking like fish. Or the fact that black holes aren't empty as many believe, but home to strange and dangerous creatures. However, they remain an unsolvable mystery because no one who has gotten close to a black hole has ever survived to tell the tale.

"I’d love to see fish people," you mutter to yourself, but Qimir’s keen ears catch it.

There's an inexplicable sadness in those words, he thinks as he turns to look at your profile, half-hidden by hair blowing in the sea breeze. "If our ship passes by there, I might take you to see them," he says, his words unexpectedly gentle.

You press your lips tightly, not responding. Perhaps you would feel a bit more appreciative if you didn't already know that what he said would never happen.

You've seen it in your dreams. Prophetic dreams foretell the future. In about four months, Qimir will have to deliver his last expensive cargo—which is you—to his client.

But beyond that... a shadow of doom completely obscured the future. You don't even know what this dream means. It's too dark to see, too terrifying, and too mysterious to understand. But one thing you're sure of, that day will be a day of death. And the clearest path is your own demise.

You frown. For a moment, you suddenly feel something—not in the form of a vision, but a deep premonition hiding beneath your consciousness.

A revelation is approaching.

But you are at a loss to determine what it could be.

Due to Pabu's highly liberal political policies, the city's population includes many immigrants from other planets, most of whom are often outlaws. This means an increase in the number of thieves and robbers, and consequently, a higher chance of being ambushed.

No place in the city was entirely safe, so Qimir decided to set up camp outside the city instead. He called it a vacation home, even though nothing about it resembles a house In reality, it's a large cave on a seaside cliff, which had been modified to resemble a living space. It's somewhat odd and out of place, but it has everything a typical home would have, all neatly organized. There are beds and desks carved from the gray stone of the cave, a small kitchen adjacent to the pantry, and even an old cleaning droid on duty.

For you, this place is much quieter than the city. There aren’t even small animals around, let alone people passing by. It’s an ideal spot for meditation or perhaps trying to use your visions again to find a way to escape.

Of course, you haven't given up on your original intention. You’re just waiting for the right moment.

But you can't use your visions recklessly. It’s not just that you don’t want to; foresight is too dangerous, It’s a trade-off that isn’t worth the risk. The future is not like the past. There are countless branching paths that can change at any moment. The further you look, the more painful it becomes, and you risk losing your sanity. You don't have the strong prophetic abilities of your ancestors. You are a weak, distant descendant. Without the training your mother forced upon you, you probably would have died before you turned fifteen.

For safety, you decide to look at the near future, roughly calculating the chances of what will happen tomorrow if you decide to escape. All the results lead to only one path: no matter how you try to escape, Qimir will still catch you.

You sigh in frustration, silently questioning yourself. which path could possibly help you avoid death?

"We are **** ******** We don't hope, we plan"

Your mother's voice echoes repeatedly in your head as you lie with your eyes closed on the hard stone bed, trying to meditate silently instead of falling asleep as you should.

You spend the whole night pondering the things your mother taught you, until the morning sunlight creeps in through the cave mouth, gradually dispelling the darkness of the night.

You hear Qimir stirring, getting up from his bed, followed by the sound of coarse fabric rubbing and footsteps as quiet as a cat sneaking out silently. He always goes out at the same time and returns later in the morning. Qimir never tells you what he does, and you never ask. You don't want to talk to him more than necessary.

...But that doesn't mean you're not curious.

You step down from the bed, feeling the stiffness that gnaws at every part of your body, especially your legs. You shake out your legs before walking outside the cave, following the earlier footprints stretching across the sandy beach. The early morning air is quite cool because the sun hasn't fully risen yet, making the sea breeze chilly. You hug yourself to ward off the cold, regretting not bringing a cloak. All you have on is a long-sleeved cotton shirt and baggy brown pants made of low-quality fabric, so thin they barely protect you from anything.

Soon you notice a pile of clothes left on the sand near a rocky outcrop by the beach. You recognize them as Qimir's clothes. You scan the area for Qimir before spotting his tall figure soaking in the water, naked and relaxed amidst the sea and the surrounding rocks of various sizes, which look like protective ramparts or a hidden place secluded from the outside world.

The sight makes you startle, almost exclaim but manage to stop yourself. Embarrassment quickly forms as a flush of heat spreads across both your cheeks. You didn't expect to intrude on his private time like this. Luckily, Qimir has his back to you; otherwise, you would have felt even more awkward if he had seen you first.

You know that the best thing to do right now is to quietly slip away before Qimir notices. However, something about him catches your eye first.

It's the large scar on his back—a terrifying long mark crossed-shaped. It definitely doesn't look like a scar from a mere accident, but more like someone intentionally tried to take his life.

You frown, confused, curious, mixed with a strange sense of apprehension towards Qimir. What could he have done to deserve this?

For the first time, you realize that you don't know anything about this man, except for the name he told you.

"If you're going to stare at me this long, I might have to start charging you."

You jump in surprise. Qimir didn't even turn to look at you when he said this.

Before you can make an excuse or hurry away, he turns back as if anticipating it, meeting your eyes openly with a mischievous, teasing smile. Those black eyes look particularly intense, contrasting with his pale skin in the water.

"Want to join in?"

His hand sweeps back the damp hair falling over his face before he swims closer to you. Water droplets cling to his tall, muscular frame, sparkling like gems in the sunlight, breathtakingly beautiful and alluring.

The sight makes you breathless, as if you're drowning underwater even though you're standing on solid ground.

It takes almost a moment before you regain your composure. Your feet quickly retreat from the shore, as if afraid he might drag you into the sea. "Don't move!" you shout at him when you see Qimir about to rise from the water while still naked, leaving you flustered and unsure of where to look.

Qimir can't help but laugh at your mix of shock and anger. "If you're not going to join me, I'd like to put my clothes back on." The man points to the pile of black clothes near your feet. "But if you want to see me naked, I don't mind," he smiles innocently, his sparkling eyes never leaving you for a second.

You feel increasingly irritated. You know he's trying to tease you again.

You want to get back at him somehow, even just a little.

Your eyes glance down at his clothes on the sand, and suddenly you have an idea.

"Your suggestion is very interesting," You nod at him before reaching down to pick up his clothes. "Seeing you walk around naked would be quite a sight indeed."

Qimir's eyes widen, only realizing what's happening when he sees you clutching his clothes and running away at full speed.

"You!! Stop right there!"

The shouting voice behind you sounds closer than you expect. You quickly glance back and see Qimir chasing after you rapidly, still naked. His bare body and flustered expression are both hilarious and amusing. The allure he had before is completely gone.

You can't stop laughing, even as he finally catches up to you.

You stand no chance against Qimir in terms of size or strength. As soon as he grabs you, the outcome is inevitable. After a brief struggle, Qimir trips you, causing you to fall onto the sand. The impact leaves you winded, but you keep laughing even while lying there. It is the first time in a year that you have the chance to laugh so heartily and for so long.

Qimir hurriedly dresses as fast as he can, glaring at you as you show no signs of stopping your laughter. He then sits down beside you, his broad chest under his clothes rising and falling with rapid breaths, exhausted from the sudden morning exercise. "You little brat," he says to you, still panting, trying to contain his anger. "I should just kill you."

He means it; he isn't joking. If anyone else had heard this, they might have been terrified, but you don't care. You are laughing so hard you can barely breathe, your cheeks flushed with a rosy glow, as vibrant as any typical teenager should be. Qimir stares at you without blinking, this time not in anger but in contemplation.

You have never smiled or laughed before, not even once. You always wear an expression as if you are carrying the weight of the entire world, like someone hiding something deep in their heart or someone who has experienced too many terrible things to mention. Many times, he senses this—you seem like someone much older, perhaps even more than him, as if an old soul is trapped in your youthful body.

Who exactly is this woman? He wonders, looking at your plain, unremarkable face. There is nothing particularly memorable about it, except for your eyes. They are the deepest, most brilliant blue he has ever seen.

There is something both captivating and unsettling about you.

"You have talent, you're cunning and quick. You'd make a good thief. Could be quite helpful in my work."

You stop laughing and look up at Qimir. His tone sounds too serious to be joking, but his lips are curved into a smile, completely different from his angry demeanor earlier. "Are you offering to teach me?" you ask, confused.

"Would you like to learn?"

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head slowly. "What's the point, when I'm probably going to..."

You don’t finish your sentence, letting it trail off. The bright expression from moments ago is fading once more.

"When you're what?" Qimir asks, his curiosity about you growing stronger.

"Nothing," you answer his question with the same phrase you always use, while painfully swallowing the word 'die', unwilling to reveal more.

You don't realize the sharp, intense gaze from Qimir, subtly hidden beneath his friendly smile.

...and you certainly don't realize that your choice to remain silent might lead to events spiraling beyond control.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

PLEASE talk more about luca model au i am begging you

this ask is ages old oh goddd. not included me coming around here with my tail between my legs. my bad my bad. anyway this got long

but the point isssss

pecco sort of—he doesn't even know, is the thing. what he was thinking when he grabbed luca's wrist and dragged him in for a kiss, this wet, clumsy thing in the ranch's kitchen with his party dying out outside. what is the point of remembering the press of luca's bird-boned fingers inside him, and the curl of his grin against the hollow of his throat, and the noises—mortifying now—that pecco had made.

what he's hoping for, exactly, with their text thread open. pecco spends a few days staring at it, the barren good luck :) and that was a good ad that spans all the time they've been friends.

but there's always the next thing to worry about. pecco spends december cooking in some island, studiously not checking this phone, carola throwing narrow-eyed looks at him, and then january comes around. new season, new bike. ducati is frizzing with the delirium of finally fucking winning it. they think he can do it again. pecco thinks he can do it again.

so work smooths out the edges of his nausea when he thinks about luca's pale pink mouth. all the way through media duties with enea. through data analysis. through testing. until—

are you riding today? bez asks excitedly. all of bez is like this, easy and open.

pecco's stomach does something funny. nervous puker and so on. luca sets his mug against the counter. he looks—like shit, maybe. pale and wan. tired. eyes glossy. it'd be nice if he raced. luca is good on the ranch—it's basically his track.

he shrugs, though, his voice is thick when he speaks. maybe tomorrow, i'm a little sick.

and so that's it. pecco makes an appropriate noise of sympathy. when they get out to race, the dust bleached pale under the sun, he thinks he can see luca watching them. the shape of him, his shadow. pecco's skin feels three sizes too small the whole day.

crux of the matter, pecco isn't a coward. he isn't. he's barely thinking when he orders some soup, something warm, homely. the shit he used to order for himself when he was alone in pesaro and sick.

he thinks maybe that he's being stupid. valentino's cooks can whip up something for him. but luca's face cracks in a smile, this untrained thing, and he thanks him in this snotty, slightly bemused misery.

he's handsome, pecco thinks, feeling this buzz at the tips of his fingers. with his sunken cheeks, the bags under his eyes, his pimples. handsome, handsome, handsome with his legs bundled up in a blanket, laughing when he starts telling pecco about his last shot.

it was cold in japan. luca starts showing him pictures of the backstage, him submerged in a pond, blue eyes lined with black and very open. sharp. him wet like a cat, dressed only in this white robe, the fabric see-through and sticking to his skin, so that pecco can see the outline of his nipples.

pecco can't tell what kind of make up luca is wearing, or what the fabric is, or anything. it's like silverstone, he says stupidly, his mouth numb. the cold, i mean. he never knows how much he can mention racing to luca. if it's still this bleeding thing between him and valentino.

but it must not be so stupid, because luca's face is still soft, and he says kind of, and they keep talking.

pecco turns the notifications on for FUDGE and reposts luca's cover when it drops. grandeeeee, like he does when someone wins a race. it means nothing. it means nothing when they start texting a lot, in between the slots of free time they have, jumping all over the world.

pecco would take this. the embarrassment of thier night together smoothed over, their friendship better than ever. but then luca drops a photoshoot with honda, and he thinks fuck. thinks that he's going absolutely insane.

it's not luca's most dirtiest shot. it's just him on a bike, honda's fireblade, long fingers wrapped around the handlebars, chest flat on it, a sliver of his laser blue eyes visible through the visor. it's just him leaning on it, racing jacket thrown over his shoulder, looking a little smug, a little windswept.

pecco's breaths come out funny. he has, what, twenty minutes until he needs to talk to reporters about jorge's challenge and his own championship chances. and still he sticks a hand inside his shorts. from the side, the honda red could be ducati red. could be pecco's bike, and pecco's merch.

he comes out of his motorhome sweaty, a little flushed, late enough that his press officer is gritting their teeth. and then he sees luca chatting with bez, laughing.

fuck, pecco thinks, more desperately than he's ever felt.

[yan-lorkai]

Hi hiii I'm the anon that requested the Charlie! Reader and I was wondering- would it be weird to ask for a Adam! Reader with yan! Idia, Leona, Malleus, and Vil? (If you it's too many feel free to remove anyone! ^^)

And can I be Beanie anon? If it's alright?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: It's not weird at all. Adam has it's charms though he isn't one of my favorites character so this end up a little short. Also yes, you absolutely can be Beanie anon (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

The first human, the one who saw everything and did everything. An angel of the highest rank, despite all his arrogance, superb character and foul vocabulary, you find yourself trapped here, still doing things your way, ordering and mocking everyone. Some students hate you, others love you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For Vil, you are incorrigible. Someone he doesn't see why he loves as intensely as he does. Or maybe it's just because you two are so different that he feels curious at first and then interested. Still, there are many things you must work on to achieve your best, many things he will make you change, no matter what techniques he has to use. Doesn't care about your status but he does get curious about heaven. What does it look like? Did humans portray heaven right? As much as he is the one manipulating and twisting the threads to control you, Vil is also curious and someone as old and "wise" as you could use that to silence him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia... Idia finds you intimidating, out of his reach, a UR+ card he'll never get no matter how much he farms and pulls. He starts watching you soon after you appear in this world, waiting to see what he would have to deal with if your paths ever crossed. You are intriguing, strong and confident, everything he is not, everything he wanted to be. He is a little surprised when he finds out about your high status and angel powers, but he is confident that he can defeat you and lock you inside STYX if you ever have to fight.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He doesn't care about your angel status, your powers, about heaven or the purge that takes place annually in hell. Leona doesn't care about any of that, preferring to think and plan how to shut you up when you go on and on about how you're the first human and everything you've ever seen and done. Due to your different powers, Leona tends to use more physical force against you, which usually ends in a draw since you both are strong. But you love the challenge, teasing and mocking him. "How bold of you, Kingscholar, trying to kidnap the first human!" How does it end? With a headache for Leona, so many people for him to obsess over and he fell in love with this troublesome angel.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus think you're funny and he likes to watch you interact with your peers. He is like a researcher watching its subject doing random things, being fascinated. He does not mind your status but offer to help with the purge that happens in hell if you want. He would also like to hear you talking about whatever you have seen and done as you are older than him. Talk about heaven, about the earth, about anything you like, he'll hear you with a smile on his face the whole time. Though if you both fight someday he straight up just use his unique magic to trap you inside a dream.

[laniemae]

hi id like to lay down little ojima thoughts here i have before pink ends cause i always enjoy reading ur analyses on the Funny Blue Artist Guy

whenever i think about ojima and his brothers i get really sad 💔💔 because if our predictions are right and it's a culprit win there's a 98% chance that takeshi will never see tetsuya and toshiharu again because he's DEAD (unless ojima is the culprit but that's a whole other bucket of worms)

i remember when von answered an ask about what ojima's brothers do to annoy him and she said that toshi is overly affectionate along with being loud and obnoxious (which made me think of tsukasa tenma from pjsk..ahahshah) while tetsu is a huge perfectionist and will completely restart a song if he does something wrong. im sure you've seen it by now considering you are like one of The Ojima Fans Ever. when i first saw that ask i thought 'ahaha cute!' but now i feel a form of Unshakeable Melancholy because of the same reasons i listed in the second paragraph!!!! yahoo i love The Dread!!!!! and in the april 22 staffside thread calenor says that he's the most important thing in their worlds. thanks tetro i will die and bleed out in exactly 2 days 3 hours and 22 minutes from now

speaking of the apr 22 staffside thread where calenor talked about the students' families, he brought up ojima's family (aside from his brothers). calenor says that ojima's mother thought having him would force his father to be more responsible but it just lead to lots of fighting. so very bad for takeshi. and when tetsuya and toshiharu moved out ojima's father told ojima that it was HIS FAULT???? which is just. flabbergasting cause we KNOW that isn't true but for takeshi it was. shigeo can go rot in prison i hope the other inmates beat his ass

calenor then begins talking about ojima's uncle. he says that when takeshi turned 15, his father lost interest in him and while you would normally think that'd be relieving for him, it actually wasn't--because for ojima it felt like no one wanted him, not even horrible people did. which really just felt like a huge gutpunch. i can only imagine that he felt completely helpless after that because we know that all he knew was abuse before then. calenor really puts it into perspective with the quote 'woe is the unloved child, for he is completely and utterly alone. a single black dot on a blank piece of paper.' von is really good at writing man. phenomenal

on another note i wanna talk about monomoko and ojima as well. i think they're very interesting as a duo because in chapter 1 they didnt talk ever, in chapter 2 their beef was beginning and ojima was getting curious about the killing game yet frustrated from monomoko's lack of answers, in chapter 3 they were LITERALLY ishowspeed and talking ben but danganronpa version, and in chapter 4 they were strangely calm with each other? i guess it must have been ojima not having much to ask about the killing game as it was nearing its end by then. also open sky was like their one interaction in chapter 4 so not much to get from that BUT we have the sky mural now yippee!!! also on the topic of the sky mural, im a little sad that BLUE and probably WHITE as well wont take place in the school cause a scene where the new students see ojima's old sky mural would be so COOL. but back on the topic of ojima and monomoko. im also a bit disappointed that we didnt get an ojima+monomoko episode in chapter 5 but its whatever.

i think that ojima being monomoko's favourite student is very interesting as well. while he did give her soup (which was very nice of him) i feel like there are other underlying factors to it that we don't know. or maybe i'm just reading too far into it. monomoko is an intelligent talking rabbit but shes still a Rabbit. and i guess rabbits like food i guess?? i've seen a few people theorise that if the culprit wins monomoko may spare ojima. but i don't really think that would happen ESPECIALLY after kan's 'corrective treatment' which may have made monomoko more apathetic to the students (although she did save wada's lily). idrk what else to say on this topic so you can add to it if you desire.

last night while trying to go to sleep i thought about what fairy tales and mystical stories of that kind would fit the tetro characters. it's kind of a different topic compared to the other stuff here but most of the asks i put in your box are just disorganised yapfests so i do apologise about that. but back to what i was talking about. so in [journal] sasaki compared her teacher to a wolf, and i believe at some point she literally says 'a big bad wolf' in regards to him. which leads me to associate her with little red riding hood. for ojima im not entirely sure but hear me out. peter pan. one of the plays peter pan is central in is called 'peter pan, or the boy that wouldn't grow up'. it doesn't fit takeshi to a t but i think you can make some connections, especially if you take the episode [young forever] into account. feel free to offer any other ideas you have cause im Out haha. also funny thing there are two vocaloid songs i like that are based on the fairy tales i listed. little red riding hood's being 'little red riding hood's wolf' by kikuo and peter pan being 'the portrait of pirate f' by hitoshizuku x yama. both are very good songs i recommend them

when im reminded that tetro PINK is literally ending TOMORROW i feel a pit of sadness and melancholy form in my stomach because i love pink so much!!!!!!!!!! it was the highlight of august 2024 for me, i went into the new school year with pink and i have so much good memories tied to it!! and while it'll be sad to see it end, i cant wait to see what kind of bow the team will wrap it up with :D and thanks for listening to my yapfest lol

Trying to answer this right before the trial because things will go to shit there.

Yeah I’m tweaking out so badly. I always think that even with how horrible Ojima’s life and family has been, despite everything he still has older brothers who genuinely care for him who he lives with now. Ojima has a safe home to go back to and it’s really sad how he was put into the killing game like this and likely to meet with death just after he obtained safety for the first time in his life. From what I’ve thought about it I still don’t really think Ojima is the killer, but you know how scared I’ve been of a killer win. And it wouldn’t just be a devastating fate like this for Ojima, a lot of the other surviving students have families or people who care about them which may never see them again or know what happened to them.

I find it very sweet thinking about how Ojima comments on his brothers being super annoying and from what von said I always think that perhaps that’s the reason he’s gotten so close to Hiroaki as I’ve mentioned before. The thought of Toshi being like Tsukasa genuinely made me crack up that’d be so fun. Even though I’m so worried about Ojima dying and all this stuff is making me sad, I at least have hope that perhaps if he does survive post killing game we could get secret log style terminals detailing the survivors lives after the killing game. But if Ojima dies, I can’t imagine how devastating it would be for his brothers to finally have Ojima back again and safe, only for him to be kidnapped and killed and nobody ever knows what happened to him. We know that they’re very protective of him so that’d be just horrible.

And yeah that staffside thread, I’ve yet to talk about it more here as I’ve been kinda busy crashing out for the finale but geez that Ojima thread genuinely made me tear up with all the more context we got on his family. Yeah Shigeo can absolutely rot in hell but this came to me recently that von confirmed on discord that him and his wife were only arrested for the white collar crimes and DIDN’T GET ANY CHARGES FOR THE CHILD ABUSE DESPITE IT COMING PUBLIC?? That genuinely makes sick like yeah very happy his parents are in prison but that’s just… And god the whole thing of Ojima’s father telling him that the reason his brothers moved out because they hated him is genuinely to awful. Especially from loyalty game we know that Toshiharu moved out to escape his dad beating him and Tetsuya moved out to try and get custody of Takeshi from his family but their dad made it so he believed they hated him. And it’s really sad knowing that his brothers would’ve been the only people in his life who believed him and cared for him but couldn’t do anything as they were also kids growing up under an abusive household.

And what we learnt about his uncle was genuinely so disgusting. Like I had thought that in bruise when Ojima said that abuse stopped when he was 15 was because that was around the time his parents were arrested. But the reason it stopped is because he was “getting so old” makes me so ill it’s hard to think about it. I’ve heard of cases like this where an abuser like this abandons the child as they’ve reached a certain age, it’s really horrifying. And especially as stated in the thread it wasn’t relieving for Ojima, it was frightening as it was what he had known for his whole life. And at that point in his life feeling that everyone had abandoned him. It’s difficult to take in that he was only 15, so that would’ve been 2 years ago which is not long at all. And seeing how Ojima is now after all that.

Monomoko and Ojima has always been a super interesting duo to me, it’s rare we see fangan/canon danganronpa hosts actually have a dynamic with a student, it’s fun to see. And with how insistent Ojima is on asking monomoko a lot of questions about the killing game is also unique and I love it. I feel like Ojima probably toned down his aggression towards monomoko in chapter 4 as from what he was saying in open sky he felt that he accepted that he was going to die and wasn’t fighting as much. The mural is a symbolic piece I always think back to. Ojima’s left a permanent mark on the school and I think it’s beautiful. A painted vision of the sky as no one can see it, I always think back to rainbow where Watari saw the mural and broke down. For Ojima it was a symbol of hope, and for Watari it was a symbol of what she’s lost.

Honestly I’m not sure why Ojima is Monomoko’s favourite student either and I don’t know if it’s more complex than like something having a favourite character. Anyway she has good taste she should give him more random visions of absolute beauty. I also don’t really think as well that she’d spare Ojima if he’s going to get executed, monomoko has spared hayashi from death but you can say with that it could also be justified as a warning but she’d have no excuse to save Ojima, but I wonder if that happens she’d be hesitant to.

Fairytale symbolism is always something cool, and especially what you mentioned with Sasaki in journal really makes me think that part was intentional. Especially as how the little red riding hood story is sometimes used as a metaphor for that sort of abuse. I’m actually not too familiar with the story of Peter Pan somehow so I don’t know how that could relate to Ojima but I feel like any sort of symbolism like that would be interesting as he’s a children’s book illustrator.

Tetro danganronpa pink has also been an absolute highlight for me and it really was a miracle I discovered it during quite a bad time of mine and I’ve been able to watch it grow since the start. It’s hard to think how this is the last day we’ll be seeing the tetro pink students like this (unless they appear in future series like dr2 but idk) so even it doesn’t really matter if they die or not at this point as we’d be wishing these 6 goodbye. It really would be hard to adjust to not having weekly updates and looking forward to the next silly Ojima shenanigans but things have to come to an end anyway. And it’s not like you can’t enjoy it after it’s ended. Tetro pink has been such a wild ride and I really can’t wait to see if I’m gonna get as attached to the characters in blue and white as well, no matter how long it’d take for them to release.

[izanagifortune]

PINNED

TOA Canon [Member of the Clergy]

ROUTE. Conquest (Following Unpaired Ending)

The Archduke of Izumo, who has grown quite bored of seeing the same place every day and wishes to change things up a little. He's come to the academy both for his own enjoyment, and to show the people around here that life isn't all about being stuck up and studying all the time! Everyone needs to have a little fun!

ABOUT | INTERVIEW | Please kindly do not use small text (post)

[penultimate-step]

I think for self-aware parody fiction there are two major failure states that most of them seem to fall into, given sufficient length. Failure 1 is simply getting old; this occurs often in comedic series based on joking about particular genres or conventions, they very quickly cover all the ground they can with this and become repetitive, one or two jokes repeated long after they cease being insightful or funny.

For those works that avoid this fate, the second major potential failure state is to increase the seriousness and focus on the core elements of the genre that it is parodying until the work becomes indistinguishable from an example of the genre played straight. This creates a tonal mismatch between early and late parts of the series; all of the parody elements of the world introduced earlier hold back the work from being an excellent-if-conventional genre work, while any fans who had come for the entertaining parody find that the stuff they liked isn't what the series is about anymore.

Not all parody works fall into these camps but avoiding either involves authors threading a very delicate and difficult balance.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Ladyfingers

Summary: Lucy promises Cooper that she can handle being by herself for a while and proves it to him while he's away.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Warnings: violence and death. Blood and canon typical actions. Fluffy things and Cooper being worried but proud of his little killer.

I've seen a lot of Worried!Cooper Howard things on Tumblr lately and I wanted to try my hand at it. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

"You are sure you'll be alright without me?" Cooper questions his little vaultie for the third time. They are down on caps, and he had volunteered to go find a bounty to cash out on. Lucy had grimaced and asked him if she could stay here, in the sturdy little house they'd been using for shelter the past couple of days. He had ground his teeth in protest, but Lucy had given him such a pitiful look that he'd broken before he could argue with her.

"Yup. I've been up here long enough to handle myself. I handled you, right?" Lucy pointed out, and Cooper sighs. Not to toot his own horn, but he was one of the more dangerous players in the wasteland, and his smoothskin wasn't wrong. He just didn't like the thought of her leaving his sight.

"Alright, alright," Cooper tosses his hands up in surrender, though a frown still lingers on his lips. Lucy hops forward and threads her fingers with his own, tip toeing to kiss her ghoulish companion. Cooper immediately kisses her back, tugging her close by the hands so that she stumbles into his chest.

"You run for town if anyone tries anythin', you hear me?" Cooper demands when Lucy drops back to her booted feet. He untangles a hand to grasp her by the chin, locking eyes with her own.

Lucy's expression turns soft, and she can't help the teasing tilt to her voice, "Awe, is the big bad, bounty hunter worried about me?"

Cooper rolls his eyes and scoffs, lips pursed to the side, "You make it hard not to, little killer. Trouble finds you worse than a magnet does a fridge."

She can't help but grin, Cooper wasn't technically wrong there. Lucy turns her face and presses a kiss to his wrist, "I promise I'll come running if there's trouble."

The ghoul nods, appeased at the promise. Coop tugs her in for another hug, and then let's go, loping to the front door. Dogmeat waits patiently, ready to go with him. He looks back at Lucy one last time before he and Dogmeat slip out the door, and he locks it behind him.

Lucy slumps when Cooper disappears. It feels weird being completely alone, but she uses the time to clean her weapons and stitch the holes in her vault suit. Her pip-boy radio is turned on, and she listens to Helen Forrest sing about being mad about the boy she loves.

She quirks her lips and turns the song up, thinking it funny how relatable she finds the song. The vault dweller loses herself in the back and forth of sewing up her suit, and as the hours pass, Lucy doesn't realize how late it has grown, nor how loudly her music echos out of the quaint little house.

Three men, one ghoul and two humans, creep up to the side of the house. They had heard the music and followed it to the humble adonde, grinning to one another when they spot Lucy inside. The vault dweller isn't paying attention, too absorbed in the old world magazine she is reading to hear the back windows slide open.

Lucy chokes back a scream when a hand slams across her mouth. She doesn't hesitate to throw her head back, her skull meeting the nose of the man who holds her. He shouts when her head connects and breaks his nose, sending blood splattering down his face and into her hair.

"Fuckin' bitch! Get her!" He shouts, and the ghoul and other man appear out of nowhere. Lucy kicks and fights back, landing a lucky hit to one of the men's balls and sending him to the floor. It gives her enough time to scramble to the far end of the room and search for her side arm.

She grunts when the ghoul tackles her, sending them both to the floor. Her head bounces once, and she sees stars for half a second before her vision rights itself. The ghoul tries to wrap his hands around her neck, but Lucy is stronger than her small frame seems.

The vault dweller swings an elbow up and into his face, knocking his head to the side and sending a tooth flying from his mouth. She bucks her hips and dislodged the ghoul enough that she can wiggle free. Lucy stands up and grabs the first thing her hand finds.

Lucy holds the iron fire poker tightly, brandishing the sharp end at the three men that surround her. The original one lunges, tries to feint to the left, and gets stuck in the ribs for his troubles. Bones crack, and the man wheezes as he spins and clutches his side. The second human, now recovered from the kick to the balls, is faster and gets into Lucy's space quick enough to snatch the poker mid swing.

"Gonna pay for what you did little cunt," He spits nasty, but Lucy wasn't about to let him close again. She rears back and kicks him, and he's too focused on the weapon to see her booted foot come flying in to strike him in the stomach.

He grunts and stumbles backward, taking the fire poker with him as he goes. Lucy turns and runs, putting distance between the men and eyes frantically searching for her bag. She finds it kicked halfway under the couch and makes a dive for it, hands snagging the strap and taking the bag with her as she runs for the front door.

The ghoul grabs her again, shoving her against the door and making her bite her bottom lip. Pain laces up her face and blood pools in her mouth. She rears back, thrashing in his hold and forcing the ghoul to let her go. Lucy unlocks the door and runs outside, digging her hand into her bag to finally grab her sidearm as she runs through the dead forest.

The men follow her, the one with the broken ribs lagging behind but still in hot pursuit. The man with the iron poker rushes forward, tacking Lucy to the ground and sending her 10mm skidding away from her. She shouts, the air in her lungs expelling in a rush from the hit. Rocks and twigs dig into her front, but that doesn't stop her from throwing her weight against the man, fingers scrambling in the dirt to find her gun.

Lucy gets socked in the rib for her troubles, making her grunt and glare at the gravel below her. She does it again, wiggling back and forth and scooting herself forward until the tips of her fingers brush against the metal of her weapon. The vault dweller lunges forward and finally wraps her fingers around the grip.

The young woman rolls, wacking the man in the face with her 10mm and shooting blindly. A cry of pain goes up in the air, and the ghoul falls, shot in the stomach by the lucky shot. She squeezes the trigger again, missing this time, but the gun going off right beside the man who still holds her is enough for him to release her legs.

Lucy scrambles up, and so does the man. He throws himself forward, and the gun goes off, a bullet punching through his gut, and his weight knocks the smoothskin to the ground. Blood soaks her front, and the man weakly pushes himself up, coughing in Lucy's face and sending blood splattering her cheeks.

The vault dweller shoves his body off her, rolling to her feet and snarling in rage at the only man left standing. Before she can fire her weapon, the familiar sound of a dog barking hits her ears and Dogmeat comes flying out of no where, her teeth locking around the man's wrist and bringing him down to the ground before she let's go to snap and bite for his throat, canines sinking into his flesh and ripping his jugular out.

Lucy sucks in sharp intakes of air, eyes casting around until she spots the silhouette of her ghoul come jogging into the clearing. Anger paints his face, underlined by a current of worry that makes her heart beat a little harder in her chest. She spits to the side, grimacing at the taste of iron, and smiles at Cooper.

"Hi."

The ghoul looks her over with his eyes and then closes the distance to yank Lucy in for a kiss. His vaultie is soaked in the blood of the men who attacked her, but she's never looked so beautiful standing there in the setting sun.

He pulls away after a moment and tugs Lucy in for a hug, "Hi to you too, shithead. Thought you said you'd run?"

Lucy shrugged at him, hands clutching at his sides as she rested her brow along his collar bone, "I tried, but it didn't really work out."

Cooper huffed and shook his head. This is what he gets for leaving her by herself, but he is proud that she'd been able to hold her own without him there. He kissed the top of her head again.

"Good job, lil killer. We'll make a wastelander outta you yet."

[madhogthymaster]

Master Recs: Webcomics (Vol. 4)

Oh? Did I forget to feed you? Did I leave you to rot in your dirty little cage for months? Sorry, my bad. Here's a belated helping of webcomics. Hopefully, these will satiate you for the next untold number of weeks.

Oren's Forge by Teagan Gavet

The world is cruel. The laws of nature control every facet of it. Predators eat Prey, Prey eat Smaller Prey. This notion had gone unchallenged for countless moons... or so most critters thought. At some point, someone asked themselves if there were more to existing than to be a cog in this heartless Food Chain. In a land ruled by violence, where survival of the fittest is the mantra by which "Animal Society" abides, what does it truly mean to live?

Oren's Forge invites you to question the supposed immutability of what we have come to accept as The "Truth" of This World, wherein the central premise works as a metaphor for our social hierarchies, stratifications and the many constructs that exist to divide us, to keep us down. To go against these monolithic beliefs would be comparable to defy Nature itself - it would be seen as "unnatural." This a story about fighting the Status Quo, daring to hope for a better future, seeking Change for the betterment of all. However, it is also a cautionary tale about Oppression, those who would monopolize Progress as a means to reinforce the old values - thus underlining how very mutable the laws are and always have been. Ultimately, this is a parable of Hope and Kindness in a time of normalized cruelty. It's a professionally illustrated, carefully crafted, Punk in spirit, furry webcomic and I think it's neat!

Octopus Pie by Meredith Gran

I have already professed my many, swirling thoughts and feelings on this work in my Mega-Thread. The extremely succinct version of that entire tirade is: Meredith Gran, published writer and acclaimed videogame developer, spent ten years working on a webcomic. It's a masterpiece and you will enjoy reading it.

Nerd and Jock by Marco Raassìna

A wholesome comic about friendship, guys being pals, pals being bros, bros being buddies, and so forth. Take some time off your busy schedule of spiraling depression and replenish your serotonin with some fun-filled shenanigans featuring a cast of loveable goofballs.

DOGHAUS by Annabelle Olendzki

An eclectic bunch of college students (most of whom Queer) stumble across the fine line of adulthood and societal expectations, dealing with related anxieties, dread, various deeply personal hang ups, family issues and unflinching depictions of clinical depression. The comic takes the shape of a 3 to 4 panels gag strip but it often refuses to tell a joke, choosing instead to portray the raw feelings of its characters going through a moment of crisis or life in general.

It cleverly, subtly plays on audience expectations, the meta-textual conceit of the medium, to counterbalance the comical farce with the emotional realness behind these "silly yet relatable" cartoon dogs. That is not to say DOGHAUS isn't funny when it wants to be.

It still has comedic setups and resolutions but it's not forcing them upon itself at the expense of an effective gut punch. You will laugh, you might cry, you may feel second-hand discomfort at social events... It's a good read!

Out-of-Placers: A Story of Inconvenient Changes by Valsalia

To put it bluntly: a human man gets TF'd and force-femmed. She becomes a rat-like, bird-limbed creature called Yinglet and with this sudden alteration comes a subsequent, fundamental shift in the way she interacts with society, losing the self-assured tether to her personal, physical, racial and gender identity. Her place in the world has been stripped away from her due to events outside of her control and now she has to deal with the ensuing, traumatic journey to adapt to the unwanted change - similarly to how The War took away her nationality. There is a metaphor here, somewhere...

Out-of-Placers is a comic that explores (in seriously enormous detail) what it's like to exist in a place unsuited to your needs, to be thrust upon a situation that appends not just your livelihood but your own ego, the dysphoria, dysmorphia and quite literal dehumanization resulting from all of it.

Please note that when I say 'in enormous detail', I well and truly mean it. You will learn way more about the Yinglet's physiognomy, biology, anatomy, gender politics, sexual dimorphisms and mating habits than you would have ever dared to ask.

In fact, a good chunk of this comic's run is dedicated to building its world with plenty of meticulously crafted "journal entries" and "scientific papers" in place of actual pages.

Whilst this may seem a rather clunky, flow-disrupting way to establish the setting and its races, I do believe it works here. There is a Terry Pratchett-esque school of wit in how the information, the history, the occasional anecdotes are delivered, which elevate a simple fantasy location to a fully lived-in society.

That too is for the benefit of the overall theming as it is through the support of a community, or a found family, that one can hope to get by in a time of... Inconvenient Changes! If you have the stomach for the, again, greatly detailed subject matter then I absolutely recommend this. Happy reading.

---

[VOLUME 1] [VOLUME 2] [VOLUME 3]

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[maxwell-grant]

So, which of the alien empires do you like better, the Kree or the Skrulls?

I feel mostly the same way about either, in that I don't particularly care for them in their own right, there is plenty I outright dislike most of them, but they can be useful worldbuilding elements to have around and have led to decent things over the years. I guess if I had to draw a straw here I'd say the Skrulls, but the Skrulls have more asterisks attached. I think the Skrulls have aged poorly overall and seem to be more trouble than they're worth.

It simply was inevitable that the Fantastic Four, at the moment of their inception, would have to deal with little green spacemen bent on world domination, these being shapeshifting Red Scare allegories just being part-and-parcel of what alien invasion stories are generally about at core (well that and antisemitism). Invading armies made of alien races are just kind of grandfathered into superhero settings at this point, like one of those things you have to address or do at some point. I'd say my biggest issue with the Skrulls isn't so much that they exist, and less that they are made to embody ideas I find politically or socially or morally reprehensible (although that is an issue, and Secret Invasion was an abysmally fucking ugly chapter in Marvel history, I'll link these articles by Ritesh Babu and Kelly Kanayama who can better elaborate why), as much as I think they really fall apart as a concept that's meant to exist in a shared universe where everybody's gonna be approaching them with different sensibilities and everybody who does so is gonna do some course-correcting on the previous takes to make their new one stand. They are living breathing allegorical embodiments of The Other who are also meant to pose an actual verifiable threat to the planet, and when you treat that idea seriously, when it’s no longer the 60s and this stuff is no longer given a pass for being charmingly antiquated, what do you do with it?

Are the Skrulls refugees? Are they imperialists? Are they warmongering genocide enthusiasts by nature or are they just regular people abused and groomed into war by their leaders? Are they space capitalists or commies? Are they honorable warriors or filthy backstabbers? Are they evil jihadist extremists hellbent on destroying America? Are we supposed to cheer when the heroes enthusiastically destroy them to save the planet or is this an oh-so-sad why-couldnt-we-get-along thing where the superheroes are very sad they have no choice but to kill them all? Are we meant to distrust the heroes when they attack Skrulls who are clearly not the aggressors or is it just an understandable funny misunderstanding? Are they really just gonna keep ping-ponging between perfect aggressors and perfect victims depending on what is convenient? That just feels irresponsible and too discomforting to me.

And I think that discomfort with their past depictions, with Secret Invasion, with the general fantasy orc problem they carry, is very clear in how modern creators tackle the Skrulls, and so they lean more heavily on making the Skrulls palatable, making them warriors torn between their honor and their loyalty to their dying empire, going hard on the angle of them as refugees displaced by war (which only makes the people at conflict with, the Kree and the superheroes, even less sympathetic in a way that never allows that thread to pan out), making conventionally pretty Skrulls like Hulkling to be "the good ones" in charge, drowning them in white savior bullshit that does little to address that fundamental tension and doesn't even last because eventually the Skrulls will be villains again, eventually it's their turn on the list of old pulp tropes superheroes recycle periodically. Even putting Secret Invasion aside, and you can't, the Skrulls are fundamentally a hostile endless race of alien monsters seeking to infiltrate America's borders by replacing it's people with themselves so they can take over the world. Valuable attempts have been made to flesh them out, but you are just not going to bleed that fascistic validation out of them.

The most I ever liked the Skrulls as a concept is probably in that storyline where Ben Grimm gets captured and sent to a Skrull planet where they are all obsessed with imitating Prohibition-era gangsters and forcing several other captive aliens to battle out, simultaneously allowing The Thing to deal with an upscaled gangster problem and a Star Trek problem and a Flash Gordon problem all in one. Skrulls-as-Space-Gangsters felt like it was onto something, a decent middleground power and threat-wise for them to occupy in the cosmic hierarchy with a niche not occupied by anyone else in the F4 rogues gallery and one that might de-emphasize the inherent xenophobia, open up different nuanced takes without needing to defang their value as an imperial power (and frankly Ben Grimm should be punching gangsters more often, he'd be the first to agree). That might be too limiting, so if there were a step beyond that, I'd suggest doing more on the weird exploration side, go big on the Skrulls as a species of copycats who can be anything and allow for weird alternate scenarios and themes and topics to be touched on, some of that weird anything-goes experimentation that made so much of F4 fun to read.

Skrull utopias, Skrull dystopias, Skrull societies that revolve around cooking competitions (maybe there are Skrulls morphing themselves into meals). Skrull planets doing shonen fighting tournaments, Skrull corporations dissatisfied with the Super-Skrull so they start splicing superpowers from a bunch of others hoping to strike big with the next great warrior, planets that are moving backwards because everytime their Skrulls get dissatisfied with modernity they take a step back on their timeline as literally as possible, Skrulls play-acting their versions of Marvel story arcs that center them as the heroes, a planet that is just the Skrulls doing their version of the DC universe, a city of rocky orange Skrulls who worship Ben as the greatest warrior in the universe, serious debates in Skrull circles over what is the worst form possible to take, roving bands of Skrull hippies trying to find the next cool thing to transform into and mold their identities around, Skrull beauty pageants, etc. I guess most of these are ideas better served outside of the Skrull framework and there's not much getting around the core make-up of these guys, but idk, if the Skrulls are gonna be a thing forever then they should be something that isn't just an Other existing in service of white savior/xenophobic fantasies. Give them their own Monkey Meat-esque anthology series about the things these weirdos endure and do when they aren't getting into spats with superheroes or space fascists or their warring governments.

Oh yeah and there's these guys too, I guess. To be honest I don't think I actually even know what's their deal. I know they are distinct enough from the skrulls due to their superpowers and big hammers and imagery, they come in different colors, they take orders from a big weird mostly-evil supercomputer, they have the Accusers as essentially a police force they've used to murder a bunch of planets with, they created the Inhumans by fucking around with cavemen, and their deal a lot of the time seems to be that they are powerful space fascists, and also that they are responsible for Captain Marvel, which doesn't do a lot to dispel the whole space fascist thing. I do think Ronan is okay though. I liked him allright in his FF debut because, given his introduction, given how he spends every line of dialogue in it flabbergasted at the F4 for daring to oppose his authority and resist his judgement and that of his empire and shocked that they won't simply comply and bow and accept death, it made him maybe thee closest you could get to a evenly-matched Fantastic Four vs The Cops story, which I thought was enough reason to justify him and the Kree as an ongoing element. Hickman also does good stuff with him and the Kree in his Fantastic Four and Avengers runs enough that I am broadly okay with them as a thing, along with the whole reocurring cosmic invader bucket they share with the Skrulls and the Shi'ar and whatever. The best one in that alien invader bucket I'd say is Annihilus, but he is his own degree of freak not really comparable to them.

If I was gonna point to anything between the two that I actually love, not just appreciate but actually really enjoy, it would be the guy in that image speaking the thing on my mind most of the time, Super-Skrull. That is ENTIRELY because he is a very entertaining character in MvC3, not just in terms of his playstyle but his general personality and demeanor, and that was my introduction to him, mostly divorced from the context the Skrulls usually occupy I was very on board with this funny green spaceman with such a cool and busted powerset and such an attitude problem. Charlie Adler does so much for his personality, this hilariously unpleasant egotistical jerk who's spitting and snarling everything he says, jeering and stomping the camera or stomping your opponent after they're down, nobody in the game is quite playing the Heel to the extent Super-Skrull is, and I like that some of his lines and ending emphasize how he's not even really that much of a villain. He is the hero his empire needs, even if he nurtures a rebellious streak, and asks you not to look too much into whenever he breaks character.

[anonyhun]

2007xMM crossover thoughts (Part 3 YUH)

You thought I was off my tmnt shit? WROOOONG.

(I mean, technically I did pause for a bit cause I got hit with the AUUUUUUUGH, but I knew I wanted to get back here. Cringe but FREEEEEE)

Here I attempt to focus on the MM perspective and maybe expand on some things I mentioned in the first part. If I don't keep my promise about this being a MM centered post, you can stone my goofy ass.

Also admittedly, this one is probably going to be a bit more random in ideas RIP.

(Highkey, might as well start a 2007 thought thread cause for real dog, I rotate that movie in my brain like it's in the microwave.)

========>>>

--MM Leo is trying so hard; between dimension hopping and his 2007 self being so much more capable and respected, the only reason he hasn't sweated himself into oblivion is because it's not physically possible.

Genuinely, being next to his older self, let alone the same room as him, pushes his nerves to the edge. EVENTUALLY he calms down but even then, he feels the pressure of responsibilities that aren't his. (Going back to their stress regarding how they compare to 2007.)

He even asks 2007 Leo at some point how he leads his brothers despite the issue of his leadership skills being resolved during the nightmare that was stopping Superfly. ( Highkey, the only reason MM Leo is seen as a "leader" is cause he's the one considered most responsible, thus Splinter putting him in charge when they have to do chores and such. )

--As mentioned before, MM Raph is ecstatic to meet 2007 Raph. Actually, in a funny twist of fate, 2007 Raph is seen as the coolest out of all the 2007 brothers since he's the Cool Uncle. This ends up causing issues later on but for now he's the favorite. (The accent helps too. It helps A LOT.)

--The cool factor starts to fade as they interact more however cause 2007 Raph keeps trying to convince him that violence is not the answer, that his anger is pent up energy. MM Raph starts to get legit miffed.

--2007 give MM a tour their dojo and both groups get to show off their skills. Lots of mixed interactions and quiet concerns on 2007's part but MM Raph gets to flaunt his wrestling skills which ends up being a lot of fun.

--MM learn a game that 2007 played as kids where they pushed their heads together to see who had the stronger neck. (Cause they're turtles and I think it's cute. The image of them just being silly AUUGH.)

--MM Donnie spends the majority of their first interactions with 2007 freaking out over the fact that isekai is real. They ISEKAI-D. ANIME IS REAL.

--The moment MM find out that they also traveled back in time, he's gets amped up all over again cause they get to experience the early 2000's for realsies. TIME TRAVEL IS REAL.

--Especially the internet aspect. Everyone and their mom talks about how the old internet was better/more interesting and he's now in a position to see what was actually like.

--Unfortunately, MM Donnie is the second to feel the pressure of impressing or being like his older self. Simultaneously he is ahead and behind with 2007 Donnie being a tech wiz for seemingly no reason. He tries to keep in mind that 2007 is very anime and 2007 Donnie explaining his tech is recognized for what it is, but the gesture partially backfires. Now he feels especially Not Smart.

--Against all odds, MM Mikey manages to avoid this issue, primarily cause 2007 Mikey is so friendly. There's isn't that same sense of seriousness present.

--He successfully teaches 2007 Mikey fortnite dances, and BOY HOWDY, he's basically a prodigy. He already liked dancing, so MM Mikey just introduced him to a world endless possibilities. ( Orange Justice ends up a big favorite. )

--In turn he gets to try skateboarding. His time with Mondo Gecko has given MM Mikey a good start but he's still hesitant, which is totally fair. 2007 Mikey proposes they try riding a skateboard with both of them on it and MM Mikey decides y'know what? Sure!

--It works for until the most cartoonishly inconvenient moment...RIP ( The piggyback method worked at least? )

--2007 Mikey is so so SO interested in what their future looks like and almost becomes a pest, asking any and all question he can think of. MM Mikey takes it in stride. ( EDIT: MM Mikey has any and all questions for 2007 Mikey as well. Forgot to say that RIP )

--Scholarly discussions of pizza and things that can be put on it. Both agree that Yes! Waffles on pizza IS good

--In the first part I mentioned how MM Mikey notices how 2007 Mikey is stuck in the little brother role; alongside this, he also gets to hear about some of the family drama. 2007 Mikey is a chatty guy and is smart enough to keep from giving explicit details but this is where the image of a functional unit begins to slip.

Even in it's vagueness, it was clear that 2007 aren't just being cagey; whatever it may be, they are also keeping quiet about some things. MM Mikey takes notes and shares this with his brothers later on, and in doing that, all of the little weird things they've noticed begin to line up, especially with Cool Uncle Raph.

--2007 have a lot of good reasons to keep aspects of their lives to themselves. They don't know if this dimension hopping will effect MM or if it is at all. They don't know if MM have their own Shredder or Utroms or whatever else they have encountered. In keeping quiet, they hope to not jinx MM. There's also the fact that they have their own insecurities; seeing their younger selves so informal and carefree, how relaxed they are with each other. Even with how rude they can be...

They are jealous in a small, ache-y way. Think of a paper cut.

They can only imagine what it's like to not have to hide anymore, to be accepted by the public. It hurts, sincerely. 2007 don't want to let this get in the way of them enjoying these kids.

--On the opposite side, MM do share a collected sense of pity regarding this. This pity manifests as time goes on. Seeing these adults that haven't, and may never, get to escape the sewers is incredibly sad. It's part of the reason they make an attempt to therapy 2007 outside of the issues they're seeing.

========>>>

( I'll leave you to ponder that but back to general ideas! )

--The Great Dominos vs. Pizza Hut debate. Mostly cause it's funny? Both groups can't just walk in and have real New York pizza so their stuck with the franchise shit. THAT SAID, MM can do whatever they want to now and 2007 do have April and Casey to help refine their palettes, but they were eating the franchise shit most of their life.

--2007 Donnie get offended that MM consider the Bo to be the worst weapon and makes it a point to Make Them Respect the Bo.

--Going back to the dojo, 2007 are internally vibrating at what they see. They were taught how to be real ninjas while MM were taught to be approximations of ninjas. Like they are ninjas, but in the discount variety.

So when they see MM in action, they see everything wrong with their form etc. etc. And to be real, MM only started to get good when they were actively fighting people and gaining that experience. A week, maybe two weeks, of fighting people who don't know how to fight back does not replace a decade and a half of training and fighting people who know how to counter you.

--As a result, 2007 take to soft training them. Showing the difference between *whapp whapp* and *WHAPP WHAPP*.

It gives them a chance to show off too. It's fun to entertain kids sometimes!

--2007 Donnie tells the story of how it took a year and a half to install a swamp cooler in the lair which promptly earns him critical looks.

( "You can invent tech but you couldn't install a air conditioner...?"

"First: it's a 'Swamp Cooler', and second: installation is entirely different. Certainly not a one person job!" )

--MM, upon first arriving: " The pollution smells different. "

--MM and 2007 have a discussion about food when MM sees the kitchen and 2007 Donnie gets very VERY concerned about MM's diet. Almost goes into a lecture about food health but is unanimously ignored by MM, save for MM Leo. ( The one thing that 2007 noticed and was shocked by at first was how blunt MM can be, even unintentionally. )

--The Great Goku vs. Superman debate

--April has a lot of fun hanging out with MM cause it reminds her of when she met 2007 the first time. That same feeling of discovery and bonding. :)))

--We Get Board games! Card Games!! Tooth and Nail UNO!!!

--MM get super curious about the memento shelf, with some dodging questions on 2007's part.

--MM make a very honest attempt to make 2007 understand modern memes with lackluster results. ( "Boomers...")

--They try their damndest to explain modern day trends and events and just...2007 just can't understand. ( Shit, I don't even understand everything. )

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Aaaaand that's all I can manage today. I hope you all enjoy this and by all means, if you want to steal these ideas, go right ahead! Do anything you want with them. I don't mind in the slightest.