#(from someone who objects to the notion of being attacked with a hammer for it)

[fohatic]

okay i was just gonna ignore this lazy unsophisticated* oversimplified take but since my mutuals insist on putting it back on my feed let's talk about character development, personal growth, and the dangers in demonizing cluster B personality disorders.

two crucial disclaimers: 1) i love tony stark probably more than any other fictional character ever & 2) no shade to the op or anyone who reblogged this in good faith because they too love tony stark. this is a very common take and stems from a good place but it's still problematic so please allow me to explain why.

(at the risk of repeating myself please see the reblogged tags on this post ((omgggg you guys this post has sat around all day without me realizing that i linked the wrong rb! see: THIS post, actually 🙃)) for an earlier [briefer] take i offered on this subject)

so the term "narcissist" has become a loaded one in modern society, often bandied around to refer to people with pathological traits that others find distasteful. people react strongly to this term because it denotes objectionable morality, which many seek to distance themselves from and feel that they're 'better than.' donald trump, for instance, is largely recognized as a 'raging narcissist' (boooooo). if you really break down the meaning of the term, though— considering the minimum requirements to qualify as such— you'd probably realize that you know a lot of people that have these traits, and not all (or perhaps even any) of them are 'bad' people. they might be 'damaged' people— or people struggling to figure themselves out, who haven't adjusted well to an unfortunate upbringing— but they still have a lot of 'good' qualities that may or may not be apparent to anyone who doesn't know them well.

people are complicated. that's what makes them interesting. a person (like pre-afghanistan tony stark) can be vainglorious and prone to outlandish attention-seeking behavior and self-absorbed to the point that it negatively impacts their interpersonal relationships. they can be obsessive workaholics who tune out anything/anyone that doesn't factor into their narrow-minded pursuits. they can be totally oblivious to the fact that their own company is supplying terrorists with weapons, for instance, while they're off screwing around and partying and seemingly not giving a single fuck about anything outside of their self-interested bubble.

BUT, such individuals are typically compensating for deep-set insecurities and perceived inadequacies by acting out in this way. that's what narcissists really are. they're vulnerable, so they put up very deliberately constructed walls to try to protect themselves.

it's important to understand that there's more than one kind of narcissist, too: there's the 'overt' type, which i think tony is best categorized as— and then there's the 'covert' type, who tend to internalize their own self-importance rather than being showy about it, secretly obsessing over their own desperate need for attention. they can be very self-deprecating and use passive-aggressive strategies rather than in-your-face behavior to get attention or to try to feel better about themselves when they're feeling underappreciated. i mention this because in case anyone finds the overt style unrelatable, perhaps there are covert narcissistic traits that you can sympathize with. if you're unfamiliar with this type of narcissism, please look it up.

because my point is: narcissists in general aren't demonic entities walking amongst us good, decent folk, threatening us with their unmitigated malignancy (exceptions may exist, *cough*trump*). they're just people, like you and me. in fact, they probably are you and me! nobody's perfect, and for the most part, we're all still growing out of our less-than-stellar traits and behaviors carried over from the more difficult periods of out messy lives. because that's what people do as they develop; though without constructive feedback and meaningful self-reflection, sometimes this can take quite a long time (if it even happens at all). alternatively, sometimes all it takes is a major wake-up call for real, dramatic change to occur, i.e. getting kidnapped and held prisoner in a cave alongside someone with a uniquely eye-opening perspective, then watching said person die in front of you before you embark on a brand new destiny.

hot take: IM1 is a story about self-discovery, tracking the journey of a self-absorbed, psychically wounded, quasi-narcissist-turned-unlikely superhero who learns to get over himself and take a hard look at reality. and isn't that more interesting than a story that's simply about a misunderstood 'good guy' who finally starts to get recognized as the amazing person he was all along? yeah, that potential was always in there -- but it existed alongside some messier stuff that prevented it from shining as brightly as it was meant to, which makes it a deeply human story.

::end rant::

*adjectives edited bc i regret choosing them in haste; belatedly considering that there's a nicer way to put that

I’m a truly incredible covert operative when it comes to fandom like no-one irl knows the depths of my obsession HOWEVER. I am aware of the fact that if anyone called iron man a narcissist in front of me I’d have no choice but to kill them with hammers

[hysteriium]

Karma’s a Bitch; {1}

// Deal With the Devil // 

Steady hands met with the flesh of a tense bicep. An arm you knew by now would never relax despite your genuine reassurances.

With one scarred, blind eye and the other distant, refusing to look at you, it was always difficult to tell if he was in the present moment; aware. Or, if the infamous man was miles away, thinking — perhaps about what he’d do to you now if you messed up.

Though, maybe that was your anxiety talking.

Michael definitely wasn’t the nicest patient, there had been plenty of incidents over the years. Fatal ones. Yet, much to doctor Sartain’s persistence, Michael remained in the facility. It wasn’t ethical, but hey, you needed to get paid and so you tried your best to please everyone. Do your job for your boss, Sartain, and take care of Michael, since you were the only nurse who he allowed near him.

You wouldn’t say Michael trusted you. You figured he was quite unacquainted with the notion, yet you knew that he at least tolerated you. Seeming as you hadn’t been slammed against the wall, your brains splattering and contrasting against the blinding whiteness that coated the entire facility, this was a clear fact. A morbid, gory masterpiece that would almost belong in a museum; its message loud and clear.

With a gentle hum, you wrapped the measuring instrument around his arm. It wasn’t a daily process, but one that had to be performed every so often. It was a strict regulation with patients, especially with precious Michael (as your boss would so kindly emphasise), to ensure each patient was fit and healthy.

As you sat across from him, your gentle humming signified your distance from present-tense, your mind flickering elsewhere — dangerous. As your movements went into automation, you were too dazed to notice Michael slowly moving his head towards you; expression vacant, with no evidence of a human being residing within the flesh. It was only after completing the small task of writing down Michael’s scores when you stopped. Michael’s comparatively larger hand had halted you, your pen falling to the ground in a series of taps. It was a firm grip; you could never envision the man being gentle. It was a hold that signified if you made it difficult, there’d be no hesitation in ending your pathetic, significantly weaker, life.

Steady heartbeats morphed into that of panic, a hammering stampede. Taking in the new bits of information, you looked down at the man sitting before you, his gaze spilling into your own with such intensity it was hard to keep your eyes from saccading away. It had the capacity to turn even the hardest men into stone, like that of the great gorgon, Medusa. A flame lay within those dead eyes, ones that harboured the burning desire to kill.

“M-Michael?” Your voice came out as a pained whimper, and if he hadn’t had any indication you were bat shit terrified before, (which you doubted), he sure as hell knew now.

He could smell fear from a mile away.

His grip tightened at the sound of your small voice, the pullback of his arm forcing you closer to him with your faces mere inches apart. The action forced your eyes shut, and you felt your face involuntarily scrunch up in fear as you waited for impending doom. The atmosphere was suffocating, your body hot and tingling with adrenaline as the laboured breathing of your former patient, and soon to be murderer, triumphed. Its flow tickled the base of your neck, strands of your hair softly swaying against his harsh respire.

When you mustered enough courage to look, with the seconds speedily turning into minutes, you opened one glassy eye, tears pricking at the corners and threatening to spill. You weren’t sure which was more horrifying; getting hurt — and perhaps murdered by Michael — or the absence of pain that virtually seemed impossible to associate with the infamous man.

Then, as unexpected as it was abrupt, his strong hand released you.

Curious beyond articulation as to what the fuck happened, you didn’t need to be assaulted twice to know when to scramble out of there. Speedily you exited. Shaking hands collected your equipment before locking his cell. With no interest to look behind you, into the small window his cell had, you failed to witness his gaze still upon you, remaining that way until you completely vanished from view.

But, although you couldn’t see it, you sure as hell felt it.

——————

It had been days, perhaps a couple of weeks, since the incident and you hadn’t been back to see Michael. Despite your bosses protests and his covert empty threats, he was unable to get you back to your regular routine. Treating regular, less murderous patients was now your daily experience, and to be honest, you were much happier.

Living was currently an attractive state of being to you, so you were trying your best to avoid anything that could potentially endanger that. With Michael being the angel of death, it was obvious you would avoid him at all costs.

As for Michael, ever since the incident, he had been attacking the new nurses sent to him (attacks that hadn’t resulted in deaths, yet), or remained as uncooperative as possible. You’d be on shift, minding your own business until the piercing shrieks and cries of Michael’s next victim filled your ears. After awhile it became routine, and you instantly knew where the source was. You’d often see nurses with bruisings on their body, arms, legs, cuts from where he dug in his nails — and most commonly, bruising around the neck. It was particularly heartbreaking, especially since you had been one of the lucky ones; to put up with Michael for such a long time and to be able to continue on your day without an incident was a luxury. You weren’t entirely sure why that was the case. Either way, it didn’t stop the injured nurses' filthy looks whenever another staff member was assaulted, as if you had something to do with it; as if you had some kind of hold over Michael.

No one could control Michael, he was his own person.

Perhaps the violence was his silent protest to get you to return, you weren’t sure and you didn’t want to know. What you did know, however, was that Michael’s poor behaviour only worked to exacerbate the doctor's desperate pleas to return to Michael. He didn’t want the state to get any ideas, and he wanted to keep Michael in his clutches for as long as he possibly could. It was his primary objective, as he had once so nicely conceptualised. Sartain, someone you’d describe as a borderline madman, was still convinced he’d get groundbreaking research from Michael.

Delusional.

You were in one of the equipment rooms, ready to attend to another patient when Sartain strode in, his long lab coat floating in behind him. He made his way to you in long strides, eyes hard and focused with determination, peering into your own like an owl on cocaine.

Without even hearing him speak, you knew what this was about.

“No—“

“Hear me out, (Y/n)!”

“I’m not doing it—“

“He’s attacked another one miss (L/n). They’re transporting him in a few days and I need to know this won’t end up in failure. I need you there.”

You froze, biting your lip in thought, the bitter, metallic taste of blood only seemed fitting as you crossed your arms, contemplating the pros and cons.

The doctor not receiving an answer, interpreted your silence as a small victory, choosing to elaborate.

“He’ll be incredibly secured, chained up and driven in one of our busses. Nothing will go wrong, I can assure you that.”

You definitely needed a chance to think about it. Were you really going to endanger the lives of others just for your own comfort? It was a difficult decision that needed careful thought.

“I’ll be raising your pay, and it’ll be the last time you get to see Michael.”

Nevermind.

“Resorted to bribing now, sir?” You finally spoke up, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He shot you a playful smile, “so I’ll take that as a yes?”

Releasing a sigh, you slowly nod your head, barely believing what you were agreeing too.

“Okay, yes. Only if you’re certain it’s safe.”

“Utterly, and completely.”

As his smirk widened, happy at his win, you couldn’t help but feel like you were making a deal with the devil. A deal you felt you’d totally, and wholey, regret.

If only you knew how right you were.

* 

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Hey guys! This is my first three-shot / miniseries? Idk what to call it lmao. But I hope you enjoy! I'm really happy with how some of it turned out, I hope my characterisation of Michael is somewhat realistic. I don't particularly believe the narrative that he's completely unfeeling and further, incapable of feeling. I certainly do think due to the environment he grew up in (in the sanitarium), he was unable to really express and develop said emotions. With the added mixture of Loomis, and his psychobabble (he really needs his licence revoked), I really don't think that helped him lmao and this obviously added to the myth of 'The Shape'. Although Michael's emotions would be hard to access and even draw out in the first place, I still think it's possible that he'd feel some sort of affections for someone? It'll be very hard though. I also believe if he were to start feeling things for someone, he'd definitely be very confused, and it would lead to a lot of emotional outbursts, particularly anger - rage even - because of how unfamiliar it is; also due to how anger and rage are so "normal" for lack of a better word, he'd try his hardest to regress/revert back to some sense of familiarity. Though like how it is for most, repression of emotions really doesn't work, and this would thereby manifest itself as intense bouts of possessiveness and jealousy. Idk that's just my opinion and my own interpretation, I could be really fucking wrong lmao but I guess that's the beauty of writing. Anyway, Jesus, I'm rambling, I'll be surprised if anyone even reads this lmao. Thank you for reading if you did, I love you and I hope you enjoy!

[marvel-girl-13]

trust my rage

**Images are never my own, I do not claim to own them or the characters/people in them**

Warnings: None (unless you haven’t seen Thor, then spoilers)

Word Count: 1339

Summary: Behind the scenes leading up to Loki taking on a weapon of immense power

---

For centuries, the mortals had been watched. As they grew in numbers and stature upon Midgard, above them beings of higher power oversaw their progression as they moved closer and closer to the intelligence that made their protectors feel that they could handle themselves. With that increasing thinking power came the ideas and beliefs that the humans were not the only ones in the universe; they believed that there was some sort of higher power perhaps hidden in the stars and in galaxies far beyond their own tiny solar system. May it be that several groups had their own separate notions about this, they were not wrong. But there was still much that they had to learn.

The humans were indeed progressing at a steady rate. Now they had people that were also mortals who could protect their society from the villains who dared to trespass; sure, they needed some of their original protectors' assistance from time to time, but their need was growing lesser and lesser with each passing generation. Midgard was gaining strength and a foothold in its place amongst the Nine Realms, even if it was still a babe in comparison. It took a realm a millennia or more to obtain the status of its much older siblings, especially the elegant and magnificent Asgard. A few believed Midgard would ever be able to match the royal, ancient realm. Many did not.

Loki was among those believers. And not just with Midgard; with some other of the realms as well, such as Jotunheim with its abominable frost giants who greatly disagreed with his father and the other powerful gods of Asgard. He despised them probably most of all, these ruthless beasts that had threatened his home centuries ago when they had fought a war against Odin and the kingdom. There was a truce in place between their realms -

Well, there had been a truce.

Loki's brow, which had been furrowed, relaxed slightly with his reflection in the glass of his bedroom window. He let out a small sigh to himself, shutting his eyes for an instant as he thought of his arrogant, prideful brother. Thor had opened the door of war rather than attempt to close it, lock it, and throw away the key with his tirade, to say the least. Violence never solved any sort of problems, and the young man's foolish decision to attack Asgard's main enemy in hopes of intimidating them into submission certainly proved that. Loki had been horrified to watch as Odin banished Thor to Midgard to live with the mortals as one of them; it was a punishment that was worse than spending an eternity upon Jotunheim. Loki had grown accustomed to watching the humans from this very bedroom window throughout his life, just as several of the other gods did, witnessing their crimes upon one another as well as their victories.

He felt that the only way they could be quiet and as collected as Asgardians would be if they were ruled over a force just as powerful. Someone with integrity and strength, and force that would keep them in their rightful place. And that would go with the rest of the realms as well; Jotunheim and Asgard could be equal and no longer quarrelsome if they were united under one power. At the thought, Loki's heart began to beat a bit faster, his pale face flushing a little as he fantasized. His father was slipping, he could agree with Thor on that note. He, too, believed that Odin's age might be at last catching up with him and he was falling behind, lost in the years that were now too far away to even be remembered.

A new age was dawning. It wouldn't be long before Loki had a plan and would be prepared to step up as the rightful king. He knew that this was the time to execute this sort of plan, now that Thor was out of his way. No longer would he stand beneath his brother's shadow, being ignored, and known only as one of Odin's sons. He would be seen and heard, feared and perhaps even adored. Of course, it might be difficult to get his father out of the way as well, but Loki had a few tricks left up his sleeve. His others had proved to be more helpful than he had guessed they would have been, so the god had confidence in those that remained...

The echoing sound of a familiar laugh directed Loki's attention back to the present, his eyes gazing quickly back down at Midgard. It wasn't long before he found Thor, and his green eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. His brother, who had been for a bit confused and angry, now looked happier than he had been in perhaps a while as he sat upon the rooftop of what appeared to be some sort of makeshift laboratory. Beside him sat a young mortal woman, looking up at the stairs with a small smile on her face. They were speaking to one another in gentle, calm tones; and Loki did not need to pay any attention to what they were talking about to understand what was going on.

“No!” he snarled under his breath, his body tense and teeth clenched. Thor could not fall in love, and with a human woman, of all people! She would taint his mind, their closeness cleansing Thor's heart and soul enough so that he could return home. Then Loki would have no chance at the throne; as his brother would tell friends and family of how he and his queen had first met and the love that had blossomed, he would only mutter, "She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef." It all disgusted and infuriated Loki; the thought that a mortal woman would ruin everything...

“Gah!” With a single sweep of his hand, a burst of magic flew from his fingertips as he yelled. The sound of one of his bedside tables collapsing did not snap Loki out of his fury as he turned swiftly away from the disgusting sight. What could he do?! It seemed as if after he had gotten one thing to go his way, the rest just got worse. First there had been his reaction to the frost giant touching him on Jotunheim and then how his mother mourned for the son that her husband had rightfully banished and now this? He would either have to take advantage of Thor's absence while he still could or take out this human to buy himself more time to do so. The latter seemed too risky, what with Thor already becoming close with her; Loki knew that he would be giving his brother the perfect opportunity to prove himself then.

He would need a powerful weapon if he wanted to take on Odin and any other god who would try to stop him; his magic could do some damage, but there were many who were a great deal more skilled than he was. He needed something that others knew and had feared, a weapon that could rival Thor's hammer and had fought more battles than anyone would care to admit, a power that even Odin had once been afraid of...

Loki felt its presence before he even touched it as he gradually approached its pedestal, like a cold, strong wind across his face. The sensation was not painful, but just as gentle as a breath across his cheek as he opened his eyes to gaze down upon the relic in all its glory. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands and grasped the handles on either side of the shimmering, blue block with its dark, intricate designs trailing all over its surface. A connection surged through the object, a chill that trailed up Loki's arms and down his spine. Determined, he lifted the Casket of Ancient Winters, its icy-blue glow bringing shadows to dance across his sallow features.

The new era had come.

[the-digimon-tamer]

Chapter 38 - Data Processing is out now on FanFiction.Net and ArchiveOfOurOwn! Check them out with the links or find it after the break!

Title: The Tamer v2.0 - In HIs Name

Fandom: Digimon

Rating: T

Synopsis: In the next adventure of the Digimon Tamer, the lives of Juri, Rika, and Henry change forever when digimon begin crossing over into the human world. But it’s all just a story, right? Just a book series by an author no one has seen in a long time. Why are they here and can they save their world before something worse follows the digimon?

Juri sat inside the train car - or rather watched herself inside the train car. It was the strangest perception as she had no present control over her own body, but she was still able to see with her own eyes. Smell the rusted metal of the train car with her nose. Hear the sounds coming from outside. It was a horrifying sensation to not be in control, helplessly watching as whatever was controlling her used her body to do who knew what. How could this happen? Why was it happening to her? What did she do to deserve...no, she knew what she did to deserve this. It was destiny, after all. Like her partner Leomon. Like the real Takato. Like her mother. This was punishment, wasn’t it?

“Agents have been deployed throughout the area for observation. Juri. Your cooperation is demanded. Please, assist with the identification of the objects so that they can be further understood,” she heard herself say. The voice in her head. The one that was using her body as it saw fit. Before she could reply, her brain was racked with images. Hundreds of images all at once - all of different places, people, and things around Tokyo. It was too fast. She could barely make sense of it and she wanted to scream in agony as the images continued to fly by. It was like someone was hitting her in the head with a hammer repeatedly. Each image was another painful blow that made her feel like she was going to pass out.

“Juri. Your cooperation is demanded,” the voice said again, its voice carrying heavy disapproval. That was just what she needed - to hear herself be disappointed in her. But that thought barely lasted with the pain of each image flying through her head.

“It’s too much. It hurts! Please make it stop!” she thought to herself.

“Pain noted. Adjusting flow of information to accommodate human limitation,” the voice answered. The images still flashed through her mind. So fast and so quick that she could feel her head about to split open from the pain. She screamed. Or tried to anyway. 

“Life form identified as Juri. Material is being processed at a rate of one hundred images per millisecond. You will begin identification,” the voice commanded. Her head hurt from the unbearable pain she was enduring. The images started flashing again, too fast for her to even get a good look at any of them.  She just wanted it to stop. Why wouldn’t it stop the pain? 

“It’s too fast,” she whimpered again, “It hurts. It’s too much. Please stop! Please!”

The voice was unamused and growled, “The frailty of your mind is noted, along with its limited processing abilities. Image processing is currently running at one percent efficiency. Reducing to zero point zero zero zero one percent efficiency. Begin identification. Now.”

The images came again, this time slowly and deliberately. She wanted this pace to remain so she began naming things out of fear of earning its ire, “A motorcycle. A car. An oak tree. The Japanese flag. A police officer. Some office worker.”

Was this her life now? Was this what it was like for Tamerkato? No, Tamerkato was at least able to fight off the angry motorcycle. He was able to retain some modicum of control. And she wasn’t anything like him - not if even one of those stories were true. No, of course they were true. She had seen for herself how dangerous he could be first hand. She was nothing like that. So she resigned herself to her fate of identifying every image that came through her mind. At least it wasn’t painful.

“Juri, why do you continue to focus on this concept of fate and destiny?” the voice asked again. Juri was unsure how to answer the question. The voice pressed, “Since you relinquished control of your body, your mind has spent approximately eighty percent of its non-vital functions ruminating on the concept of fate and destiny. Is there a reason to this?”

She supposed she did. But then what did it matter to the voice? Why would it care what she was? After she was silent, the voice pressed, “Are you by chance a fatalist?”

“Fatalist?” Juri repeated stupidly. The voice was losing its patience as it asked, “Fatalists ascribe to the doctrine of determinism - the notion that all events and actions are linked together by the causal chain of destiny or fate. Is this the reason for your obsession?”

“I...no,” Juri would’ve shook her head if she were able to.

“And yet your mind continues to focus heavily on destiny and fate. Why is that?”

She fumbled out an answer as she spoke, “I…I’m just not sure if this was always going to happen. Ever since���I just don’t know how much control I really have over anything I do. Not since…”

She paused again, trying to gather her thoughts amid the headaches and confusion. The voice spoke again and this time began by addressing, “Your thoughts have shifted to another. An older female. Perhaps an older version of yourself? No. That’s incorrect, the probability is unlikely to be the root cause. A paternal figure? Yes, a paternal figure. Your mother…she passed away when you were young.”

Juri didn’t want to think about this. She didn’t want to dwell on this subject. She didn’t want to be reminded of her deceased mother or the possibility that her death was unavoidable. The world around her went dark - descending into a cold abyss until she found herself in a dim, white room that smelled of antiseptic. The room seemed so large…no, she was small. She looked down at her hands and found that they were moving under her control. She was in control again. How? How was this possible? And why was she so small?

“What is this?” she murmured, looking around the room. The curtains were drawn to block out the light, but she could still make out the vague outline of someone there. Her father? Yes, her father - standing somberly over a bed. A hospital bed. Juri’s blood froze, her heart stopping in her chest, and the fear came back, “What’s happening? How am I here?”

“This is a memory,” the voice replied, “We are examining your memories carefully to determine the source of your fatalist attitude.”

“No!” Juri shrieked out loud. She didn’t want to relive this. Not this. Not this day. She didn’t want to relive this horrible moment. Anything but this.

“Mommy’s not coming home, sweetheart,” her father said quietly, without looking away from the person lying on the bed. It was then that Juri noticed the arm hanging limply from under the sheets. She’d forgotten about it - how cold and lifeless it seemed to be. She’d been too busy dreading the other parts of this memory - and it only served to make it worse. She wanted to plead with him, to stop this memory from continuing, “Dad, please don’t.”

“I’m sorry, Juri,” her dad said, putting a hand on her head. In any other situation, it would’ve been comforting. But here. It just made her feel patronized - her father wasn’t thinking about her in his grief. His apology was hollow - he was just talking to keep himself from collapsing into tears and breaking down further. Her father added, “Maybe that’s just how things were meant to be. Maybe that was her destiny. She just wasn’t strong enough.”

“Destiny?” she repeated from memory. Her father answered, “Destiny is something no one can run from. It catches up to us in the end. And it’s the destiny of all things to die. It was just her time. Her destiny to die.”

“There is truth to your father’s words,” the voice spoke, “Death is a fact of life.”

Juri shivered, “I don’t want to remember this.”

“Your mother died. What part of that bothers you?” the voice demanded, “It would seem your fixation on destiny could be due to the realization of your own mortality - a subject matter that often afflicts life forms with feelings of intense distress. It would appear that the reason for this fixation is that you never properly learned to deal with this distress and therefore fixated on destiny or fate as a rationalization. However your rationalization only served to hinder you from achieving your true potential.”

Juri tried to tune this all out. She didn’t want to hear this anymore. She didn’t want to be a part of this. Her father turned to face her. She remembered the stoic look on his face trying to hold back tears and emotion. He didn’t have that this time. He didn’t have anything. It was just a horrifically blank face. Then the skin began to tear itself apart where its mouth would’ve been - and inside was an endless sea of horribly misshapen eyes that spoke to her in her own voice, “It is fact, Juri. All things will die. You were born to die. That is your ultimate fate. There is no reason to fear it. You may even find liberation in accepting that!”

She could think of several reasons right now why she should be very afraid of what was in front of her. The inhuman movements of the mouthlike hole wasn’t helping anything, “Rejoice in your mortality. There is no reason to cling to life. Instead, use your life in service to a greater good. Serve your purpose, Juri. Death is your destiny, regardless. But you are not there yet. There is still time to do some good with your life.”

This thing was not good at making compelling arguments. In fact, she couldn’t focus on anything it was saying because of how terrified she was. All she wanted was for all of this to stop.

“Let us resume,” its voice echoed.

...

Cyberdramon, Rapidmon, and Taomon attacked the bird creatures with everything they had but none of it mattered. The damn things moved too quickly to hit and the ones they could hit barely seemed affected by their attacks. Even with the relevant upgrades to their speed and strength, all they were really managing to do was just barely keep up with them. And worst of all was the fact that they were endless. 

The soldiers below still held their ground, firing skyward into the flocks although it was anyone’s guess if they were actually hitting anything. Military vehicles came in to reinforce their line: tanks fired their cannons into the sky while gunners emptied their machine guns. However, the attacks were accomplishing nothing against the endless flock of bird creatures soaring out of the mess. The few hits that made their mark weren’t doing any good.

“What are these dumb things even doing? They’re not attacking!” Rapidmon pointed out angrily, frustrated that their efforts were pointless and beginning to think their passivity was mocking in nature. Taomon gestured at a few of them that were sitting idly and explained, “They’re scouts. Spies gathering information for that...thing. Once it has what it needs, it’ll attack us with everything it has.”

“Oh great. Because these guys being tough to hurt wasn’t bad enough,” Rapidmon groaned, still firing his barrage endlessly. Cyberdramon latched onto one of the birds and dragged it across the side of the building - managing to at least scratch the surface layer of its body but otherwise barely hurting it, “Less lip! More hit!”

Once he ran out of building, he threw the bird with all his might straight into another bird, only to watch them bounce off each other and continue on like nothing happened. Cyberdramon growled, “Why isn’t this working? Why won’t they break? WHY WON’T THEY DIE!? KILL! KILL! KILL!”

...

“Hey Ryo! You’re not stewing in your anger again, are you?” Henry called out to him. Ryo’s fists tightened as he grumbled, “Sorry, it’s just...I know that Tamer is involved in this somehow! I just know he’s responsible. Either he knew and he let it happen, or he caused it.”

“We don’t know that for sure!” Henry reasoned with him, “And even if he is responsible, getting angry won’t do us any good unless you plan on letting Cyberdramon run around on a rampage throughout the city!” 

Rika punched him in the shoulder, “He’s right! So calm down, Ryo!”

“Right, right,” he nodded sheepishly, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down but knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to let go of the fact that this was all Tamer’s fault. He needed to calm down. Calm down. Just breathe. 

BOOM!

While he’d been trying to calm himself, a tank rolled up beside them and fired its cannon up at the flock of birds. It missed of course, the shell soaring through the air and hitting the red mass where it exploded loudly. It was hard to calm down when guns were firing away all around them. Soldiers ran past them with guns, firing away at the flock of birds and one of them shouted, “Hey! You kids get out of here! Itami! Get these kids out of here!”

A young man ran up to them and tried ushering them back, “You heard him kids. Scram! Come on!”

“Are you kidding? We just had this discussion!” Rika groaned in disbelief, “Why can’t you guys just let us do our thing? Hell, we’re doing a better job than you guys are! Those are our partners up there fighting that damn thing and you want us to leave?”

The soldier looked down at her with wide eyed surprise, shaking his head as he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, “I’m sure. Now let’s go!”

He grabbed a hold of Henry before he had time to protest and he tried to carry them away from the fighting. Thinking quickly, Ryo kicked the soldier in the shin so that he dropped both of them, “Run!”

The soldier cursed as he massaged his leg, barking for help from the other soldiers in his unit. Realizing the trouble they were in, Rika and Henry raced after Ryo down the street with some soldiers running after them. Henry had a small chance to look up at their partners and shout, “Guys! There’s too many soldiers here! We have to go!”

“I am a warrior! I do not retreat!” Cyberdramon howled back at the top of his lungs, “They run from me! I will make them fear me!”

“Hostile! Incoming! Ten o’clock high!” one of the soldiers shouted, raising his rifle to target the digimon. Ryo shouted out at him, “Cyberdramon! We need to go! Now!”

“I can do this!” Cyberdramon roared back. The first few shots were fired and hit the Ultimate in the back. He roared in anger and turned on the soldiers. Ryo pleases with him again, “Don't attack! Cyberdramon! We need to go! Don’t make it worse and attack humans!”

“Attack them!? They’re attacking me!” the ultimate level dragon protested in anger at being ignored. There was no time. He wasn’t going to listen. Taomon wasted no time and slammed her brush against the dragon’s head - not quite knocking him out but giving him some context for their situation. He growled in agreement, “Fine! We’ll go!”

The soldiers continued to fire upon the digimon until Taomon descended and used her brush to draw a magical field around - creating a bubble that lifted them up into the air and away from the fighting. They fled from the fighting, retreating across the city and away from soldiers charging into battle as citizens ran in terror. And ever direction they looked was filled with those bird things flying in every conceivable direction to block every route of escape. Eventually, Rika pointed out a clear alley, “There!”

“Going!” Taomon agreed, setting them in the alley. The moment they were free, Ryo groaned and kicked over a garbage can, “This is a mess. How can we stop this thing if every new soldier that shows up starts shooting at us?”

“Well what else are we supposed to do? We’ll just have to keep explaining that we’re there to help and hope we don’t keep getting dragged away,” Henry reasoned. Rapidmon sighed, “Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re not the one getting shot at.”

“Excuse me…are you kids…uh, what was it again?” 

They looked off to the side to see a young woman with short brown hair wearing a black suit. She was young, possibly in her mid twenties, and didn’t look at all like any of the government agents they’d become used to seeing in the last few days. However, she did have a gun holstered on her belt and they could see a red armband with a leaf symbol around her left shoulder. She reach into her coat pocket to retrieve a notepad and read aloud from it, “Found it. Are you guys Jiangliang…Lee…Ruki…Izumi? Wait, I mean Makino! No, it’s Nonaka!? Man, my handwriting really does suck. Forget that.  And…Ryo Akiyama. Well, at least one of you has a normal name. Anyway, are you them?”

They looked between each other and this strange woman dressed in a her formal black suit. She dressed like the government agents but she didn’t carry herself like one. Hell, she was probably barely older than their teacher. Henry raised an eyebrow, “That depends. Who are you?”

“Let’s see: cautious, orange vest, skeptical…that would make you Jiangliang,” the woman rattled off. Rapidmon leaned into his partner, “Wow, she’s got your number.”

“Yeah, and I bet the giant green robot rabbit didn’t have anything to do with it,” Henry fired back. The woman flicked closed her notebook, “Nah, it was completely the digimon. Which make you Ryo and you Ruki. Anyway, I need you all to come with me.”

“Go with you? You haven’t even told us who you are!” Ryo practically shouted at her. The woman snickered, “You’re right, I didn’t. My name’s not important. What is important is who I represent: Burnt Leaf. We’ve been keeping an eye on you kids for a while. Well, most of you. You’ve been missing for a while Mister Akiyama and we had a hell of a time tracking you down. Imagine our surprise when you showed up out of the blue one day. Or should I say flash of light?”

“Is it amazing how little that explains?” Taomon pointed out. The woman laughed, “You can address me as M if it means so much to you.”

“You’re from that organization,” Rika gasped, pointing at her arm band, “Burnt Leaf.”

“Yeah, I just said that,” M answered.

“You know who she is, Rika?” Ryo asked her. Rika nodded and went on, “They got mentioned once in that book. The unpopular one. Last time it was a guy named Hokage. So who are you?”

“He’s my boss. He’s kinda tied up with this mess so I’m here instead,” M explained, “We’ve been slowing down Hypnos’ attempts to track you kids and hindering them wherever we could. But we’re kind of in a tough spot at the moment. So I’m here to escort you back to the Hypnos Program.”

“Wait, if you’ve been hindering them - why are you taking us to them?” Taomon asked. M motioned for them to follow and said, “I’ll tell you on the way. And can you guys shrink down for crying out loud? You three stand out like sore thumbs.”

Cyberdramon looked ready to pounce but was held back by Taomon, though this didn’t stop Rapidmon from trying to throw a piece of garbage at the woman. Sadly, he missed by a mile and the woman kept on walking. 

Ryo looked at Rika for some kind of explanation, unsure if they could trust the new woman. It didn’t help that she looked just as weary of the new woman as he did. He scratched his head, “Well, Rika. You’re the expert on that book. Do we trust her?”

“Tamer did,” Rika folded her arms, “In the book, he trusted them…well…he was going to trust them. The book got trippy in that part - something about the future and the past and multiple meetings. It was weird.”

“Okay, but can we trust them?” Ryo repeated, trying to wrap his head around the explanation. Rika paused for a moment, putting her hand to her chin and becoming contemplative, “What choice do we have?” 

Ryo didn’t like that answer, “We have plenty of choices!”

Taomon patted Rika on the head, “I say we follow her. If The Digimon Tamer trusted them, then that’s enough for me.”

“You know we don’t share your optimism, right?” Rapidmon pointed out. Taomon stifled a laugh, “I suppose not. All the same, I’m going.”

“Wherever Taomon goes, I go,” Rika agreed. M called back, “If you’re coming, please shrink your partners down! They can’t fit in the SUV like this.”

…

Impmon ran all night, like he’d never fled before. He’d seen enough horrible things in the Digital World to know he didn’t want to be anywhere near that thing. Not after what he’d seen in the memory - a lifetime of knowing nothing he did would matter because he was simply a plaything for the universe at large. He knew it was the other guy’s memory, not his, but it blurred so seamlessly with his own memories that he wasn’t entirely sure of that fact. 

Was he even Impmon? Yes, of course he was. There was no doubt about that.

But again the memories came back to haunt him and he couldn’t drown them out. Not after he’d fought the last monster in a fit of rage and lost terribly. What frustrated him the most was knowing that all of his acquired strength and skill amounted to nothing. That big lummox wiped the floor with him and then the others had to step in to save him!

Why? Why wasn’t it enough? Was he just doomed to be a failure like this? He hated it. And he hated himself just as much. No he wasn’t a failure. He knew that much. 

It was Ai and Mako’s fault. Who else would it be? If they had just been better partners. If they would quit bickering for five minutes. None of this would’ve happened. Maybe things would have been different. They could have been different. Maybe dwelling on their memory was what brought him to their home - some kind of subconscious act . 

Unfortunately he didn’t realize where he was going until he was already there - at the tree just over their backyard where he could look down at them. They were busy playing without a care in the world. Did they even know what was going on in the city right now? Probably not. They were just kids after all - they couldn’t even understand the concept of sharing. 

They were playing with a stuffed teddy bear and going about their day like two loving siblings. That was odd. They weren’t fighting over the teddy bear. In fact, they were playing some kind of pretend space adventure game with the teddy bear playing the part of an evil space pirate. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Nope. It was real. They were sharing their toy. 

He should’ve been proud. He wanted to feel pride. But the only emotion welling up inside of him was anger. Jealousy. Rage that he hadn’t been treated with the same kindness. Now they were sharing? Now they were getting along!? What!? Was he not good enough? Did he not deserve that kindness!?

“Ai! Mako!” their mother called, “Come inside! It’s snack time!”

Yeah, they definitely didn’t know. Their mother was busy making them snacks. That definitely meant they had no idea what kind of danger they were in. They cheered and rushed back inside, giving him the opportunity to leap down over to where they’d left their teddy lying on the grass. Impmon examined it bitterly, annoyed that it had been treated with such respect and care. He wished he could’ve had that, and the anger welled up  inside until he found himself kicking the doll repeatedly in a fit of anger. Then he stopped, realizing how to stupid he was being. He almost had to laugh.

Was this what he was reduced to? Taking out his frustration on stuffed animals? It made him want to kick the doll again in anger. But that would just prove the point wouldn’t it? Still, he kicked the doll anyway. He wanted to have some control over his life. To feel like he wasn’t some play thing for the world to use as it pleased - jokes it seemed.

“Impmon?” Mako’s little voice called out. He looked up from the doll and saw the little boy standing at the sliding glass door with a half eaten banana in hand. His eyes widened with excitement, “Ai! Impmon’s back!”

Impmon wanted to run, but his legs refused to move - either from fear or from shock, he knew he was unable to leave. Then Ai, Mako’s slightly older sister poked her head out from behind the glass door - crumbs and chocolate smeared all over her face. Her face lit up with a smile and she cheered, “Impmon! It’s you! You're back! Just in time because we’re having snacks!”

She ran back inside and returned holding a bowl of assorted fruit slices, crackers, and chocolate cookies. Impmon looked at the bowl quietly, then back up at the two kids who seemed excited by the prospect that he had finally returned. He didn’t know what to say to them. He expected anger, anguish, sadness…something - hell, he’d even settle to listening to them argue for a few minutes over who would get to play with him first. But they didn’t. 

They must’ve noticed his unease because both of their faces turned grim. Ai sheepishly asked, “Are you still mad at us?”

He blinked, surprised that they’d even considered that. Mako nodded in agreement, “That’s why you ran away the first time, right? You were mad at us for always fighting and never getting along. That’s why you ran away.”

There was a lot to unpack there - the biggest thing was the fact that they’d realized it perfectly without him needing to spell it out for them. Ai set the bowl down on the ground in front of him, “We’re sorry Impmon. Please don’t be mad anymore.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to any of this. Mostly because this show of humility was completely foreign to him. Still, watching them apologize and practically ready to cry made him realize how guilty he felt. He didn’t want to be responsible for hurting anyone else - not even their feelings - so he quietly took one of the sliced apples and started munching. After he swallowed the first bite, he apologized, “I’m...sorry I left.”

“No, we’re sorry. It’s our fault,” Ai answered, hanging her head quietly, “We didn’t mean to make you run away. We just wanted to play with you. And we scared you away. We’re sorry.”

“We promise we won’t fight anymore so please don’t leave again!” Mako added pleadingly. Impmon continued to quietly eat the apple. He didn’t want to promise that. What if he had to leave? What if they started fighting again? He couldn’t bring himself to be responsible for hurting anyone else. But he also didn’t want to leave - not when he knew what was out there. And if he left...what would happen to Mako and Ai? These two kids all the way on the edge of the city, far away from everything that was going on. The world was ending just a few miles away and they probably had no idea. Hell, their parents had probably avoided telling them just to keep them from panicking. 

The thought of their scared, crying faces compelled him to answer, “Okay.”

He didn’t want to agree to stay, but right now he didn’t care. All he wanted was to forget about the past, forget about all his problems…to start over. He picked up the bowl of snacks and offered it back to the two kids.

...

Takeru and the rest of the digimon made their way up the hill, listening to the loud noise on the other side. It was like a roar of thunder, accompanied by strong winds and dark clouds swirling overhead. They weren’t sure what the commotion was - all they knew was that whole sections of the Digital World were abandoned - as if everyone had left. And then the noise came in the distance, like a low distant rumble accompanied by flashes of light in the distance. 

As the reached the top of the hill, they found themselves looking over what could only be called a massive battlefield occupied by countless digimon. It was crazy enough when they saw the mega level MetalSeadramon and WarGreymon in the mix, but then they saw hundreds of them. Countless MetalSeadramon and WarGreymon among a sea of mega level digimon fighting some amorphous red blob that covered the Digital World.

And the red blob was winning. It didn’t matter how many digimon threw their strongest attacks at it - the red mass would either eat the attack or retaliate with a blast of red fire. It was like trying to fight a rising tide of a blazing fire - everything they could do either did nothing or made it stronger.

Takeru’s heart sank at the sight of it. No, that wasn’t right. It froze - stopped in terror. This…this was not something he’d ever thought to be prepared for. This was something years of experience could not prepare him for. All the other enemies they had faced in the past could at least be understood - Apocalymon, Myotismon, Devimon. This…this was like a force of nature.

He wanted to help. He needed to help. But this…this was beyond him. He’d never seen so much death, despair, and carnage in one place. He froze as he realized he didn’t know what to do. The other digimon seemed just as lost and scared by the sight before them. After all, there were countless mega level digimon fighting and they were doing nothing against it. What good would a few more do? How could they save the Digital World when the only thing they had to offer was just a drop of water in a bucket that was failing.

He would have to be like The Digimon Tamer. He would need to be unpredictable. But how could he outwit or outthink something that was so alien, he wasn’t even sure it was alive? As he tried to process what he was looking at, a flash of light beside him alerted him to the arrival of a more than welcome sight, “TK!”

“Tamer!” he called out, still trying to make sense of what was going on, “What the hell is going on?”

Tamer took one look around them and answered grimly, “You just answered your own question there, Takeru.”

“Tamer! What is all this?” Gatomon demanded angrily. Tamer sighed and gestured around them, “Death. And hell is following it. That’s not hyperbole either - that thing is death! Literally! It exists to destroy Digital Life!”

“So are you just going to talk all pretentious or are you going to do anything helpful?” Gomamon asked, “Seriously...your talk is more obnoxious that Izzy!”

“Take that back!” Tentomon smacked him across the back of the head. Gomamon groaned in pain until Palmon lifted them both up into the air, “Focus guys! Tamer’s here! That means trouble! Pay attention! I want to see Mimi!”

“First he’s got to drop the metaphors!” Gatomon complained.

“That wasn’t a metaphor,” Tamer pointed at the red mass the countless digimon were fighting, “That thing...the Ancients had a couple of names for it. Death was one of them. Found out it’s name is the D-Reaper…kinda anti-climactic really. Sorry, lost focus. Back to the subject! This thing. It’s in the Real World now.”

“How? You need a digivice to travel between worlds!” Takeru asked in disbelief, holding up his digivice to emphasize his point. Tamer waved a finger, “There’s more than one wat to cross the boundary. And I think this one might be my fault.”

“Because of course it is,” Gatomon threw up her hands in disgust. Tamer’s shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his head sheepishly, “Yeah. Anyway, the human World is in trouble. More trouble than the Digital World. The Digital World has all powerful digimon. The human world doesn’t...I...look, they need your help.”

“Deal!” Veemon spurted our quickly, until he was pulled back by both Gatomon and Palmon, “Are you crazy?”

“I’m in too!” Wormmon nodded. Now he was the one getting looks as Gomamon turned his head, “Really?”

“Yeah, I figured you guys would put up more of a fight that,” Tamer admitted sheepishly. Veemon wriggled free enough to add, “We all know what you’re going to shay. You need ush to go back to the human world and help shave it. I’m in. I want to shee Davish again!”

“I...Huh...anyone object?” Tamer stumbled, obviously taken aback by the sudden change of heart of the digimon. Takeru watched the remaining digimon confer quietly amongst themselves until Gomamon asked, “And this isn’t a trick?”

“No...why would it be?” Tamer shook his head, offended by the accusation. 

“You do have a habit of using us,” Gomamon said accusingly. He had a point there and Tamer didn’t seem to know how to answer that one, “You have a point. I’m not going to force any of you to do something you don’t want to-”

Takeru cut him off, “No, I think it’s time we headed back. If the others are in trouble then it’s time I was there with them. That we were there with them. Before it’s too late.”

“By the way, what’s going on with the other guys? Those kids you were with?” Armadillomon asked. Tamer raised up his digivice, “Yeah…we’re not exactly talking right now. Which is kinda the reason I’m getting you guys.”

“Oh, did they finally smarten up?” Gatomon hissed. Tamer’s shoulders slumped, “Truth is…everything I touch has a habit of going from bad to worse. But they need help. I don’t want to get involved because what if it ends up hurting them? But you guys? Not only could you help them, they’d probably love the chance to fight alongside you!”

“We’re more interested in seeing our partners,” Armadillomon pointed out, earning a cavalcade of nods from the other digimon. Wormmon added, “Besides, it sounds like you just want to use us.”

“That’s not it!” Tamer insisted, pausing again to take a breath, “Look, how about this? I’ll just bring you guys to your partners in the Real World. If you guys don’t want to fight, you’re free to choose not to. You can just be with your partners. Deal?”

The digimon looked between themselves and nodded in agreement, “Alright!”

“Okay,” Tamer held out his digivice, “Next stop! The Human World! Digiport Open!”

[sparda3g]

Attack on Titan Chapter 107 Review

The more answers we deserved, the more miseries we earned. Even so, a new question is around the corner. This series continues to be a case of everything gone wrong. The upcoming anime season is almost here and it may be the medicine I need now. It was once a series that contained uplifting spirits, a new hope, and triumphant victories. The moment Eren wished to destroy the world (technically speaking), it all went straight to hell. This chapter answered questions, asked new ones, brought the fans to despair, and a sign of a downhill spiral to be continued.

The last chapter felt like a trend of good news and happiness. Under the surface, however, it was filled with consequences and this chapter exploits it with more concerns to be aware of. Eren is in jail and after this chapter, you would be wishing for him to stay there forever. I know he’s the savior in a sense, but his attitude has gotten rotten before his body has.

Hange went to visit him to discuss about the fallout. Two pages in, you will immediately notice the difference from their past days. I still remember how fun their chemistry were, especially when Hange endlessly talked about titans as Eren lost his sleep. Those days are so gone. She clearly tries to start a conversation, but Eren keeps ignoring her until he got fed up of her chatter. I felt bad for her when she remembers their first meeting; you can sense her sadness in her eye. Sadly for her, it’s only going to get worse.

The chapter then enters another flashback that takes place two years ago. Unlike the last time, this one is filled with shadiness and a choice that leaves no guaranteed promises. I like Yelena. I feel like I can trust her the most at the moment, which eerily doesn’t say much. Her expression about the promising day looks genuine; I can believe she truly feels hopeful.

The question about the Hiruzu’s presence at Marley is answered and it turns out they are working together with Paradis Island. It was expected but I’m glad we got that out of the way. I also like the small info of Hiruzu’s legacy that addressed their allegiance with the Eldian Empire. They also have a history of staying at the island; more reasons to side with them. The real interesting part is the connection between them and Mikasa.

Mikasa had a strange feeling of Kiyomi, the Ambassador, because of resembling appearance. Yelena chimed in and said that they are blood relative. That’s funny, because someone in the discussion board once thought Kiyomi is Time-skip Mikasa. I guess that fan wasn’t far off. To establish the connection, the family crest is a solid proof and Mikasa has a mark that was passed down from her mother. I don’t like how Eren essentially forced her to show it in a dominant fashion.

Kiyomi and others were awed by Mikasa. She recited that it has been rough for a nation, but seeing her on the island gave her newfound hope. So much so, Mikasa is now billed as Hiruzu’s hope. That’s quite the status to carry. I am intrigued though, since this could grant us a bigger focus on her background outside of being the protector of her only family. Nice to see Historia being playful to Mikasa’s once secret; it’s so like her. How charming it is to see Historia in high spirit…

The question about Zeke and Kiyomi’s alliance is answered, but one past info has been corrected. Zeke tried to reason with them that he’s the true Eldian Restoration Movement member. They knew about his history about turning against his parents, but he followed up with his reason. Before, it looked like he was a loyalist to Marley by selling his parents out. Now, he claimed that he only did so because he thought his parents were sloppy and would only fail in the end. Hooray?

If he didn’t act, Marley troops would have searched for the rebels and everything would have been gone. Zeke went with the option that would reward him in which we can clearly see now, but at a price of his parents, of course. Context or not, it’s still messed up. He reasoned with Kiyomi heavily, including noting that Marley has no knowledge of his royal blood. Probably the most convincing point of his argument was the vertical maneuvering equipment.

I was wondering when his discovery a while back would come into play. The inner depth of its functionality is what sold her. The equipment can only work if it contains a special kind of fuel called “iceburst stone.” Supposedly, they haven’t been mined outside of Paradis Island and yet, people don’t know its significant value except Hiruzu. With that type of resource, they will be wealthy as hell. It even has Kiyomi drooling over. I find that pretty shady. The sign of power hungry is there and with Mikasa being involved, I don’t like the possibility.

Everyone in the floor room discussed the three parts of “Earth-flattening.” The first part is pretty much intimidate the world by revealing some of their strength in public. The second part is Hiruzu’s part. The goal is to raise the military strength up to a global level that require no need for the weapon. It doesn’t sound so bad so far. The major downside is the time gap along with the third part.

Because of Paradis Island had been isolated from the rest of the world for 100 years, establishing a modern army would take a lot of time. How long? At least 50 years. At least we know what timeline the epilogue will take place. So how can they continue the process? By passing down the Beast Titan to the one with a royal blood. That’s right. Historia must become a titan shifter. That’s not all. She must give birth as many children as possible. Her charm just died…

I got to give Hange a credit for thinking logically and how the plan isn’t guaranteed for success, let alone the amount of time they have to wait. There’s plenty of chances to backfire, including relying on the future born children. Not to mention, they have to deal with users get chowed down to pass the torch. That would be fun to watch, right? Historia does agree to inherit the Beast Titan when the time comes. I know it’s her personality and I like that, but I don’t want her to be forced.

Eren decided to go with the “polite” choice and objected the plan. I guess I should applaud him to try to find another way, but realistically speaking, he’s the one that brought Historia into the subject of interest for all the wrong reason. Beside, with the knowledge that he declined the offer and tried to find alternative option, the present time now have me feeling bitter and disappointing. It also made Eren more of a prick than anything else. Care about his friends became a rare gem.

What comes next is a startling scene. Back in present, Hange has been trying to talk with Eren in a normal comradeship manner, but Eren proceeds to go somewhat crazy. He recalls that he ate the War Hammer Titan, so he possess a new ability in his arsenal. With that in mind, things go dark fast once Eren more or less threatens Hange.

The way how he intimidate her is unnerving but very alarming for where the story is heading. He pretty much said that he can escape at any time, so you can say he’s only there out of generosity. He’s still working with Survey Corps, but it’s how arrogant he came across that matters. What’s worse is he became way too cocky on his safety from anyone. It’s true that they need him and Zeke, but to use that notion to mock them is equivalent to a contract that allows the user to smack you all day and you can’t touch him without getting your family killed.

All of his anger is taken on her and she has no way to control his emotion. The only way she can “solve” is to walk off. It’s sad to see her failing as a Commander; at least when dealing with Eren. It’s no wonder she was upset of Erwin choosing her to take the role. Not saying she can’t be a good one, but the role was given untimely.

Speaking of sadness, the graveyard scene gets extended with Nicolo trying to pay his respect for Sasha. It’s the same guy who has a crush on her. I thought it was a small gag moment, but it’s actually neat that he has more role to fill. Connie’s lines hit me in the feels really good. He’s one character that I know well had connection with Sasha. Considering a friend like a twin sibling is always a strong indication of how significant that person meant. The line, “Losing half of me,” did it for me.

Not too long ago, I remember Anime Season 2 covered Sasha’s character, family and such, so I was glad to see her father return once again. It’s just a damn shame he returns now for this. No parents should bury their child. I want to salute Nicolo for being a man to honestly introduced himself and offer Sasha’s family to eat his dishes, free of charge. Only a chapter and a half and I already like this guy. For once, there’s one happy note out of this time-skip.

Before the chapter could end, it goes through a reel of developments from multiple locations. To begin with, Yelena brings the titanization formulas to the Survey Corps, only to get backstabbed soon after. Amazing how much more they are coming off more of a villain. In their defense, Pixis is taking a precaution measure, more so than portraying a full fledge villain. Still, it’s a selfish move; more reason to side with others.

Levi continues to treat Zeke like crap as much as possible without resorting to kill by giving him a “hotel.” It’s a good looking one; you can get a great view of the landscape. Seriously, he has to stay at the Titan Forest since it lacks resources for his Beast Titan to use. It’s a safe option I suppose. Zeke does find it interesting; would like Falco and Gabi to see it. Man, he really is a noble guy after everything that happened in the past. I guess he does have a sincere heart.

I can’t say the same for Gabi though. She and Falco pull an act for the guard to buy into her “sickness.” He then gets clobbered by a brick for a knockout, but she goes one extra step that essentially kills him. That shot to the head was brutal. Was that really necessary? She’s still traumatized by everything. It’s bad enough that she trusts no one in Paradis Island, but because of Zeke’s reveal, she doesn’t trust anyone now. I don’t know what lies ahead for her but death can come really soon if not calm.

Reiner finally wakes up. I wonder how long it has been since the battle. It’s strangely good to see others in Marley doing fine; lately, I feel Paradis Island truly are the devil. I don’t know if it’s a hint for a power or it’s a spiritually speaking, but he sensed Gabi and Falco from afar. In fact, he said he heard them. Again, not sure what direction am I supposed to take, but I’ll keep this in mind.

The last development is the most gut-punching one. We have seen nearly every original character in their time-skip design. We were missing Historia. This chapter finally introduces her time-skip self, watching the sun. At first, she was shown as a mystery since the panel was angled behind her. It was until the man calls her name that we learn it’s her. But the megaton is her appearance. She’s alive alright, but now, she’s pregnant. Who’s the father? It’s not Eren, that’s for sure. Being a pairing fan is suffering.

Seriously, this was hard to comprehend. She’s forced to give birth and the plan wasn’t established as far as I’m concerned. They’re supposed to wait, but here we are. It’s bad enough to see Historia all cheery in the past, now looking done with this world. The view shot of a woman sitting and watching the sun tends to mean a broken person.

All of this could have been avoided if Eren didn’t say anything after Zeke spoke about a potential to free Eldians. Eren is like the protagonist from a video game that revolve choices (ex. Life is Strange). In the past, he chose the right morale choices for the most part. As of late, he decided to go renegade or dominant, so all of his choices have been nothing but destructive to his friends. Did someone take a controller and decide to make Eren a tyrant or something? What a mess…

This was a pretty interesting chapter that continue to answer the questions we asked, only to ask more. With each new info, it leaves more and more discomforting thoughts for the future. At this rate, it might as well end Evangelion style if everyone’s future has an early dead end. There are multiple paths to look forward to, yet at the same time, feeling uneasy. Historia is pregnant and one would wonder if this is a secret or not. Eren has been drowning to the renegade’s route. There’s no way to undo it. He can only deal with it.

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 60: Keeping It Together

“It’s not our fault!”

Does Steven Universe have a more ominous setting than the Prime Kindergarten? Rose’s Room comes close (and I maintain that Rose’s Room is the scariest episode of the series), but episodes featuring it always pay off the unsettling setting with an actual scare. Whereas the muted colors and cacophonous clangs of Kindergarten maintain a constant thrumming dread, promising something horrible and imminent, and lets that tone linger uninterrupted. Amethyst’s fight with Pearl in On the Run is intense, and the Crystal Gems confronting Peridot in Marble Madness ramps up the suspense, but we haven’t seen any true horror from Kindergarten until now. 

And yeah, holy shit.

As I mentioned in Reformed and Sworn to the Sword, Keeping It Together establishes Garnet’s next big arc. But hers is much different from her fellow Gems’, both in structure (it’s the shortest by far and resolves with its Peridot Episode instead of its Steven Episode) and in tone. Garnet is the emotionally healthiest Gem on the planet right now, so she needs a bigger push than Amethyst or Pearl if she’s going to lose her cool. This isn’t to belittle the other two Gems, but there’s a reason the prompts for their episodes are day-to-day issues (for them) like renewing their physical forms or training a student, while Garnet needs dramatic scenarios like the Cluster Gems or a friend’s betrayal to reach the same level of crisis.

In short, external motivation is everything to Garnet’s arc because she lacks the internal baggage of her peers. There’s nothing unhealthy about being queer a fusion, so her problems stem from societal oppression that targets her for being who she is. We’ve seen her face fusionphobia with grace against Jasper, and we’ll see that bookended with Peridot when the season ends, but an attack on her identity as abhorrent as the Cluster Gems is certainly grounds for an extreme reaction.

We’ll get there, but first I have to point out how well-structured this whole episode is. The opening revels in switcheroos, first with Garnet’s serious conversation turning out to be part of a chore session, then with two red herrings in quick succession: the hint that we might see Ruby and Sapphire, and an extended callback to On the Run suggesting a focus on Amethyst. 

From there, the episode looks like it’s going to be about Steven settling into his own new status quo as a more respected member of the Crystal Gems. And in a way, it is! We spend a lot of time with him, and he summons his shield without any fanfare when the going gets tough. But it makes sense to focus on him more here than in Reformed and Sworn to the Sword, because Garnet’s status as a fusion is still novel to him and has changed their relationship in a way that warrants examination. And in an episode about Garnet encountering forces that don’t understand fusion to a horrific degree, it’s a soothing contrast to see Steven’s own misunderstanding come in the form of genuine curiosity.

Steven is also where we get a lot the goofiness that often accompanies the show’s horror episodes, but don’t let the clip of his spectacular shrug fool you, the comedy crown here goes to Peridot. This is the episode that tips the scales on Peridot as a villain: she began as a coldhearted alien, and her bureaucratic fussiness emerged in Warp Tour and Jailbreak, but now she fully transitions from a menacing opponent to a panicky thorn in the Crystal Gems’ side. All it takes is one look at Steven to make her lose her worker bee cool, and the action scene that follows plays her increasingly absurd bag of tricks for laughs as she outmaneuvers our heroes.

Peridot’s newfound jitters make sense on a character level, as she lost her power and is stuck on a world she knows is doomed. But the silliness that ensues also works wonders for Keeping It Together’s structure: by making her such a loud source of comedy, her exit marks a concrete tonal shift from goofy to grave. And by making her someone to be pursued, we get rid of Amethyst and Pearl in the process. And by revving up to a breakneck pace to follow her zany action, we reach the third act around the episode’s halfway mark to let it sink in that much deeper. Thanks, Peridot!

After focusing on Garnet in the episode’s onset, we’re right back to hanging out with her again. She’s even more confident than usual here, accepting Steven’s effusive praise with a simple “thank you” and acknowledging out loud that she’s great, to show us how big of a deal her panic attack is. We’ve seen her handle monster after monster without breaking a sweat, and she even defeats Jasper with a smile hours after getting destabilized. But the Cluster Gems hit her where it hurts, and seeing Garnet get rattled like this is far scarier than the monsters themselves. 

Not to take away from Aivi and Surasshu’s awful Cluster Gem theme (great, but awful), but the true sound heroes of this scene are whoever designed the ungodly noises these things make. Considering nobody is credited as “Monster Scream Maker” I’ll go ahead and shout out the whole sound design team for this one: Timothy J. Borquez, Susy Campos, Tony Orozco, Daisuke Sawa, Robert Serda, and Tom Syslo. I have no idea how their jobs work, but I’m so glad they’re so great at what they do.

And then of course there the visuals, and dear lord are they upsetting. The drizzle of mismatched body parts starts small, with a hand and foot that happen to match Ruby and Sapphire’s colors taking the Gem Shard concept we’ve seen in Frybo and Secret Team to a whole new level of creepy. But the limbs get bigger and bigger until the excruciating reveal of five screaming Gem ghosts transforming into a monstrous “arm” reinforces Garnet’s pained explanation of what these Cluster Gems actually are: the remains of her long-dead friends forced together.

But even then, even as Garnet is literally falling apart, she manages to push through the horror and save the day with Steven’s help, leading to Estelle’s showstopping argument with herself. Where A.J. Michalka’s frequent use of separate voices for Steven and Connie shows Stevonnie’s youthful uncertainty, Estelle’s normally steady performance makes her frantic and distinct portrayals of Ruby and Sapphire a shocking swerve. It both subverts and fulfills our expectation of seeing Garnet’s two halves after Stephen brought them up during laundry, and brings home the idea that splitting up isn’t a fun party trick no matter how much Stephen (and fans) want to see more of them.

The little details here are amazing. I love that it’s Ruby’s eye that tears up during the fight, but by the aftermath she’s moved to rage while Sapphire is still reeling; one lives moment to moment, and the other thinks in the long term. I love that gaps in the conversation are filled by them clearly sharing the same thoughts, namely that Rose might have known about these experiments and kept them secret; the notion that this is even possible foreshadows how dark Rose’s secrecy is going to get in the coming episodes. And even though it’s tragic, I love that the header quote can first be read as Garnet’s guilt over being part of the rebellion that caused her friends to suffer, but can be reread after The Answer as guilt over prompting the Diamonds’ interest in fusion. It’s not her fault, but it certainly would feel like it was.

But therein lies the difference between Garnet and Amethyst/Pearl: guilt this intense would shut the latter two down, but by the end of the episode Garnet has kept it together. She’s still upset, and she should be, but she’s not letting herself drown in her sadness and anger. 

The Week of Sardonyx is about to test Garnet again, and Pearl’s betrayal can hit even harder now that we’ve explicitly been told about the importance of consent in fusion. And as I hinted at earlier, fusion’s multipurpose metaphor extends to a specifically queer reading that’s vital to Garnet’s arc. I honestly wouldn’t mind being hammered over the head with the message that homophobia is bad, because yeah, homophobia is bad and kids should know that and children’s media doesn’t bring it up very often. But like everything to do with fusion, the Steven Universe team handles the allegory factor with incredible finesse. There’s no one-to-one analogy between fusion and queerness beyond Ruby and Sapphire both presenting as female; indeed, the mistreatment of queer people in the real world rarely includes forcing them into long-term relationships with each other a la the Cluster Gems, and Homeworld society only finds fusion acceptable in same-Gem relationships, so it’s actually heterophobic if we want to get stupid and pedantic.

This show doesn’t need an episode about conversion therapy or corrective rape to display the horror of an outside force perverting what you are and oppressing who you are, and Garnet’s journey through Season 2 shows that Steven Universe isn’t content with presenting two women in a relationship and patting itself on the back for being progressive. The fact that the show addresses homophobia with sensitivity but without pulling punches is something entirely new, but the fact that it’s doing so while enhancing a character and advancing the main plot is even more outstanding.

Future Vision!

The headline here may be kicking off Garnet’s arc, but it also revs up the Cluster Arc: these shard fusions are bad, but who could’ve guessed they were apocalyptically bad?

Peridot’s surprising resilience to large objects and gravity is as true in the Beta Kindergarten as it is in the Prime, if Kindergarten Kid is anything to go by.

The question of whether Rose could’ve known details about Diamond tactics reframes Sapphire’s rage in Now We’re Only Falling Apart.

If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have inconsistencies…

As great as Steven is here, would he really be that surprised that he’s coming along? I get that they’re showing that the status quo of getting some respect is still new to him, but yeah, after saving everyone in Jailbreak I think he’s pretty official. Enh, just a gripe, it’s implemented well enough.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

I think just above On the Run sounds right for Keeping It Together. It’s a terrific Garnet episode with a welcome side of Peridot, and manages to set the stage for a new arc while culminating Kindergarten’s foreboding tone with a bang. 

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Winter Forecast

Keeping It Together

On the Run

Warp Tour

Maximum Capacity

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

The Test 

Future Vision

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

No Thanks!

     4. Horror Club      3. Fusion Cuisine      2. House Guest      1. Island Adventure

(No official title card for this one, likely due to Keeping It Together being part of a Steven Bomb, but luckily this piece from Vondell Swain will do.)

[cgmayra]

Hi! I love your fanfiction and I'd like to ask you for smth: could you please write a little story where modern Sonic meets boom!Amy or backwards? Sorry for grammar - English isn't my first language.❤

So, I’ve done something before very similar to this! :D but I’ll write a new one xD (cause I can! lol)

And thank you! Don’t worry about your English, it’s just fine ^u^

Prompt:

Tails accidentally opens a portal to another parallel universe. Getting excited about it, he doesn’t notice Eggman slowly sneaking in with his robots; and while the team gaze deep into the vortex-swirling portal, he pushes them in!

Down, down, they go! Before Amy pops out of a watery wormhole, crashing through a waterfall and flailing as she hits the surface of the small watering hole below.

Coughing, she swims her way over to the bank, and tries to rest a moment as she wonders who pushed them all in.

Boom!Amy is now on her own, going through this rainforest without a single clue where she is.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She rubs her cold arms as she tries to comfort herself. Looking up, she shakes her head and pouts, acting as though she’s not afraid to be on her own.. in a strange… new world.

There were floating rings like she was used too, and taking a few, she continued along a path before seeing a checkpoint crossing in the distance.

“Ah! Finally!” she happily ran off, running into rings along the way as she sped along the trail through dashboards.

A few steps behind her, a figure walked out with his feet bringing up dust from the trail… the foot screeched to an animated halt with a sound effect common in this world.

The shoes were red… with golden buckles as the figure saw the missing rings… and knew someone must be ahead of him.

Amy, at first, tried to figure out how to move passed such a large distance of a gap, peering down and then wishing Tails were there.

She frowned, before hearing a buzzing sound and quickly pulling out her hammer, looking around her.

“Robots!” she cried out, seeing them just hang… motionless in the air.

“Huh?” She was confused why they weren’t attacking her.

They suddenly lifted their heads up, looking like big, hulking metal spinners as they started firing at a blue-…

Blur?

“Sonic!” Amy cried out, thrilled to see her friend so-

He spun into the robots, landing on the other side, before turning around, smiling, but folding his arms as he raised an eyebrow.

“…W-where’s your…” she pointed to where his bandanna usually hung, before realizing this…

This was an alternate universe Sonic!

“A cosplayer? Way out here?” he teased, before noticing she looked too much like Amy to be a phony..

Modern Sonic smirked and leaned his head forward, not seeing a threat in her, but deciding to play along with whatever was going on. “A new outfit? Slimmer than usual… what happened to your design? Strange…” he lifted himself up, putting a hand to his muzzle as if seriously pondering this.

It was true he was curious, but he wasn’t in the least taking this serious.

“Maybe you’re a robot Eggman designed?” Sonic took on a playful stance, tilting his head to see if she would react to his suggestions.

“Wha? No! I’m Amy! Amy from another universe!” She threw her arms down and shouted over the distance.

Sonic laughed. “You sure do sound like her!”

“That’s because I- Oh, nevermind. Look. I’m looking for MY Sonic. He’s a little taller with a brown bandanna! Oh! And Tails! He’s got googles on his head and a belt…. like so.” she motioned her arms around to gesture what she was talking about, almost as if playing charades.

Sonic found this amusing, and stuck a leg out as he tipped the toe up a bit, listening to her and silently making fun of her acting out the objects she was describing; chuckling slightly.

“Also! Knuckles has-” she was wrapping the ‘imaginary’ bandage around her arms before seeing him trying to hold in a snicker.

“…Grr… You’re making fun of me!” she hollered at him, before picking up her hammer from the ground and starting to walk off. “I don’t need this! Hmph.”

“H-hey! Where you goin’? I thought you weren’t done explaining how funny you look!” He continued to tease, racing up along the edge of where she was till the island broke off and he had to skid to a halt.

He cupped his hands over his mouth, making the sound travel farther. “Don’t go! I’ll help you find your same-universe friends!”

She was surprised he was trusting her, but even more surprised by his friendly wink when she looked back to see him placing his hands on his hips; charmingly.

—–

She felt awkward.

He had insisted carrying her, telling her it was faster as he stretched out.

He wasn’t sure what she was so weirded out about, but could definitely tell as she jumped out of his arm to battle, swinging her hammer at ranges from other robots from his arms, that she wasn’t the Amy he knew.

He was more used to having her just sit tight and when he let her down, start fighting, not so much take action while still in his arms!

His mouth formed into an ‘o’ as he watched her fire her hammer at another robot, before gripping it again as it came back to her.

“You’re pretty nifty!” he complimented, as she looked back to him and proudly swung her hammer around in a circle.

“I try~” she winked to him.

He smiled, seeing some familiarity with the subtle flirtation.

He then looked around, “I still don’t see your friends though…”

Amy grew saddened, looking around as well.

He then shrugged, “Oh well. Maybe they fell out of that portal thingy near Tails’s place? Hungry?” he tilted his head.

She wasn’t used to such a considerate Sonic, and nodded, blushing slightly in her awkward way.

“O-oh, um.. t-thank you. That sounds like a good plan.” she nodded, having already dried off but something nice and yummy in her tummy wouldn’t hurt!

Getting to Modern Tails’s place, he was baffled by her story, asking about specifics from his Alternate Universe’s machine; but she could only remember some minor details.

“Sorry… I really can’t remember much.” she looked truly apologetic, but also awkwardly taking in all his bombarding questions.

Sonic had looked to her funny, and she shrugged, stating silently that her Tails was just a little different…

“This is amazing! But of course, let’s make sure you get home and back with your friends first.” he nodded, and took out his Miles-Electric, hooking up wires and placing them on her forehead and arms.

Her eyes widened as she stopped eating a moment from the bowl of food he had given her as he started placing them around him, and then bent down to dig into a tool box.

“If you’re really from another world, you’re magnetic field should have a different polarization then us.” he got up, smiling in a perky manner. “Say Ah.” he put a device in her mouth as she felt the force push her back slightly, and turned to Sonic.

He shrugged with a weak smile, as if saying, ‘This is OUR Tails…’.

“In simplified terms, you basically have a different frequency pattern than we do. So if I can isolate it, I should be able to create a location device for it in my Miles-Electric!” He showed off his invention, then leaned forward a little to her.

“…Can your me do that?”

She shrugged, still having the device in her mouth.

He pouted, leaning away.

“All you two ever do is shrug at one another.” Tails commented, looking to Sonic, putting his hands full of wires and gadgets to his hips, suspicious.

“What are you two communicating that I can’t follow..?”

“Stuff.” Sonic shrugged.

Tails looked to Amy.

“Swhuff.” she shrugged again, having her words muffled.

The two looked to each other and smiled, tilting their heads back in a pleasant notion while Tails groaned and continued his research.

After a moment, Tails’s experiments were done and they began hunting the teams down.

They were shocked by Sticks, having been captured by one of Eggman’s robots.

Shadow had a run in with Boom!Sonic, who had attacked him, thinking him evil or somehow responsible for putting him in this mess.

Knuckles and Knuckles… met?

They both thought it was a reflection.

Somehow…

I don’t know.

Shrug.

It’s Knuckles.

Tails was found by Cream and Vanilla, who took him in, worried he had lost his memory somehow before the team showed up.

Having everyone, they were headed back to Modern Tails’s place. The Tails both got busy working together on the machine, seeming like long-lost brothers.

“Could you pass me the-” “No one ever gets it when I ask for that!” “Dude, I don’t want to leave! Tell me more about the different forms your X-Tornado can do!” “Sure!”

“Hey, no distractions!” Boom!Sonic warned, “It’s all fun and games till Meh Burgers deal coupons expire before you even get them.”

Modern Sonic made a odd face, and that’s when Boom!Amy approached him.

She rocked on her heels, being curious about him. “So… You… Like burgers?”

“Dunno.” he smiled to her, “I like Chilidogs way better though.”

She giggled, making Boom!Sonic’s ear hone in on the sound, and turn his head around.

He grumbled with folded arms, seeing them getting along so well…

“Well, of course you do. You’re Sonic!”

Boom!Sonic looked forward, making a grumpy face as he muttered to himself some insults about how that statement wasn’t completely true. He felt he was the ‘better’ Sonic… but never stated it.

Something made him intimidated by the other universe’s Sonic, he didn’t know why though.

“So, what’s the ‘Amy’ here, like?” she leaned on a table, using the bunny ears and being cutely friendly as he happily turned to give her more attention.

“She’s a lot more impulsive.”

Amy’s face dropped.

“But just like you, she’s gotta pretty smile.” he winked.

She grinned, lovely. As though her heart was melting inside.

Boom!Sonic double-taked, before getting annoyed and stepping in between them, waving his arms around.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough chit-chat! The Tails say they need some more materials to make the machine. I say we go!” He stuck a thumb up to himself, and looked to Amy.

The gesture made Modern Sonic raise an eyebrow, before smiling as if knowing what the other Sonic was supposing..

“Right! I’ll carry Amy!” Modern Sonic walked over, quickly with the intent to get the other jealous, and scooped her right off her feet.

She blushed, as was his intention, as Boom!Sonic grumbled, fire in his eyes.

“Put her down!”

“Why?”

“She’s not yours!”

“Well, no. She’s not anyones.”

Amy’s heart literally fluttered as she lightly swooned and dipped in his arms.

He watched her and smiled, thinking she was playing along.

The two Sonics had a race for who gets to take Amy, but Modern Sonic let Boom!Sonic win. He stated that two Amys would have been a hassle anyway.

The two departed as Amy remembered why she liked her Sonic better… Unlike Modern, Boom!Sonic treated her with great consideration, while Modern Sonic seemed to only notice her when it seemed he was up for it; or it mattered too.

Heading home, Amy wrote about her experience, but Sonic still seemed pretty hot-headed about her repeatedly mentioning him.

“What? Think he’ll come here and sweep me away?” She teased, kicking up her feet as she closed her book.

“Did he say that!?” Boom!Sonic flung around, growing paranoid as he ran around her home, shutting her binds and locking her doors, leaning against it. “She’s not here!”

She laughed, “Oh, you.” she rolled her eyes, giggling before going to hang out with him and team some more~

(Way AU, but I hope you enjoyed it :3 Slight jealous!boom! lol)

[fmservers]

The new Two Minutes Hate

You see it first on Facebook or Twitter. Something contemptible: an image, or a video, or a tweet. One accompanied by a furious, snarky caption, highlighting just how awful and unacceptable it is, a dunk fueled by rage. The outrage rises within you. How can it not? You’re primed for outrage. We all are, now. Outrage grenades just waiting for our pins to be pulled.

Usually, if you dig down behind the outrage to its fuel, it’s because our most cherished beliefs, the ones with which we most strongly identify, are – maybe implicitly, maybe implicitly – being attacked.

It was a noise that set one’s teeth on edge and bristled the hair at the back of one’s neck. The Hate had started […] delivering his usual venomous attack upon the doctrines of the Party — an attack so exaggerated and perverse that a child should have been able to see through it, and yet just plausible enough to fill one with an alarmed feeling that other people, less level-headed than oneself, might be taken in by it.

It’s important to point out that this outrage is not caused by fake news. Sometimes, maybe, but not usually. The assholes out there are very real, and often their behavior is indeed hateful. Maybe they’re teenagers; maybe they’re politicians; maybe they’re celebrities; maybe they’re just randos catapulted into notoriety by today’s algorithmic tsunami.

Sure, you don’t have all the context. You never have all the context. But sometimes you don’t need all the context, and sometimes even when you have it, it only reinforces the cries of outrage and hate you see flying in from all sides, from your friends, from your acquaintances, endlessly retweeted and shared.

Before the Hate had proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room […] In its second minute the Hate rose to a frenzy. People were leaping up and down in their places and shouting at the tops of their voices in an effort to drown the maddening bleating voice […] The dark-haired girl behind Winston had begun crying out ‘Swine! Swine! Swine!’ and suddenly she picked up a heavy Newspeak dictionary and flung it at the screen.

Are these ephemerally prominent assholes truly the worst people on earth? Of course not. The worst people on earth tend to do their work quietly, or in remote corners of the planet, away from cameras. What matters about these assholes is that they’re emblematic. They become convenient representations of everything we despise. And because emblems aren’t human, they’re just 2-D cardboard cutouts, there’s no risk of any compassion undercutting our hate.

I’m not saying sympathy. Of course you shouldn’t sympathize with assholes. But sympathy and compassion are two very different things. Compassion is the aching recognition that everyone is as human as you, including people who do awful, hateful things, and that their lives too were dictated mostly by forces beyond their control.

But the dark magic of social media is that it strips all compassion from our outrage, as casually and automatically as it strips videos of context or images of EXIF data.

The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretense was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge-hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one’s will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp.

Each wave of outrage is a little easier than the last, as the pathways of hate in our brain become greased, become smoothed, become automatic like muscle memory. Soon the assholes become unpersons, axiomatically and automatically unworthy of compassion. When you participate in the hate, you become a more hateful person yourself. Of course you don’t intend to. Of course you think yourself better than that, more righteous.

But there’s no disjoint between being more righteous and more hateful. On the contrary. Those two things are very closely correlated. In fact they feed back on one another in a virtuous cycle that grows into a tornado.

On the sixth day of Hate Week, after the processions, the speeches, the shouting, the singing, the banners, the posters, the films, the waxworks, the rolling of drums and squealing of trumpets, the tramp of marching feet, the grinding of the caterpillars of tanks, the roar of massed planes, the booming of guns–after six days of this, when the great orgasm was quivering to its climax […] at just this moment it had been announced that Oceania was not after all at war with Eurasia. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Eurasia was an ally.

There was, of course, no admission that any change had taken place. Merely it became known, with extreme suddenness and everywhere at once, that Eastasia and not Eurasia was the enemy. […] At every few moments the fury of the crowd boiled over and the voice of the speaker was drowned by a wild beast-like roaring that rose uncontrollably from thousands of throats. The most savage yells of all came from the schoolchildren. […] The Hate continued exactly as before, except that the target had been changed.

I’m not suggesting that these tsunamis of online outrage are bad because their targets are invalid. Sometimes they are, but that’s not my point. My point is that participation in them is harmful — to you, and to us all — even though, maybe even especially when, its targets are completely valid.

It’s a weird and crazy and utopian notion, I know, but here’s an odd proposal. Maybe it’s too much to ask that you stop tweeting snd sharing your outrage and hate. But how about this: if you do participate, then for every ejaculation of fury, add another one, a balancing tweet, a quick thoughtful Facebook post, wherein you express some compassion — again, not sympathy, not agreement, but compassion — for someone with whom you bitterly disagree. You never know. It might become a habit.

Via Jon Evans https://techcrunch.com

[toomanysinks]

The new Two Minutes Hate

You see it first on Facebook or Twitter. Something contemptible: an image, or a video, or a tweet. One accompanied by a furious, snarky caption, highlighting just how awful and unacceptable it is, a dunk fueled by rage. The outrage rises within you. How can it not? You’re primed for outrage. We all are, now. Outrage grenades just waiting for our pins to be pulled.

Usually, if you dig down behind the outrage to its fuel, it’s because our most cherished beliefs, the ones with which we most strongly identify, are – maybe implicitly, maybe implicitly – being attacked.

It was a noise that set one’s teeth on edge and bristled the hair at the back of one’s neck. The Hate had started […] delivering his usual venomous attack upon the doctrines of the Party — an attack so exaggerated and perverse that a child should have been able to see through it, and yet just plausible enough to fill one with an alarmed feeling that other people, less level-headed than oneself, might be taken in by it.

It’s important to point out that this outrage is not caused by fake news. Sometimes, maybe, but not usually. The assholes out there are very real, and often their behavior is indeed hateful. Maybe they’re teenagers; maybe they’re politicians; maybe they’re celebrities; maybe they’re just randos catapulted into notoriety by today’s algorithmic tsunami.

Sure, you don’t have all the context. You never have all the context. But sometimes you don’t need all the context, and sometimes even when you have it, it only reinforces the cries of outrage and hate you see flying in from all sides, from your friends, from your acquaintances, endlessly retweeted and shared.

Before the Hate had proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room […] In its second minute the Hate rose to a frenzy. People were leaping up and down in their places and shouting at the tops of their voices in an effort to drown the maddening bleating voice […] The dark-haired girl behind Winston had begun crying out ‘Swine! Swine! Swine!’ and suddenly she picked up a heavy Newspeak dictionary and flung it at the screen.

Are these ephemerally prominent assholes truly the worst people on earth? Of course not. The worst people on earth tend to do their work quietly, or in remote corners of the planet, away from cameras. What matters about these assholes is that they’re emblematic. They become convenient representations of everything we despise. And because emblems aren’t human, they’re just 2-D cardboard cutouts, there’s no risk of any compassion undercutting our hate.

I’m not saying sympathy. Of course you shouldn’t sympathize with assholes. But sympathy and compassion are two very different things. Compassion is the aching recognition that everyone is as human as you, including people who do awful, hateful things, and that their lives too were dictated mostly by forces beyond their control.

But the dark magic of social media is that it strips all compassion from our outrage, as casually and automatically as it strips videos of context or images of EXIF data.

The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretense was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge-hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one’s will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp.

Each wave of outrage is a little easier than the last, as the pathways of hate in our brain become greased, become smoothed, become automatic like muscle memory. Soon the assholes become unpersons, axiomatically and automatically unworthy of compassion. When you participate in the hate, you become a more hateful person yourself. Of course you don’t intend to. Of course you think yourself better than that, more righteous.

But there’s no disjoint between being more righteous and more hateful. On the contrary. Those two things are very closely correlated. In fact they feed back on one another in a virtuous cycle that grows into a tornado.

On the sixth day of Hate Week, after the processions, the speeches, the shouting, the singing, the banners, the posters, the films, the waxworks, the rolling of drums and squealing of trumpets, the tramp of marching feet, the grinding of the caterpillars of tanks, the roar of massed planes, the booming of guns–after six days of this, when the great orgasm was quivering to its climax […] at just this moment it had been announced that Oceania was not after all at war with Eurasia. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Eurasia was an ally.

There was, of course, no admission that any change had taken place. Merely it became known, with extreme suddenness and everywhere at once, that Eastasia and not Eurasia was the enemy. […] At every few moments the fury of the crowd boiled over and the voice of the speaker was drowned by a wild beast-like roaring that rose uncontrollably from thousands of throats. The most savage yells of all came from the schoolchildren. […] The Hate continued exactly as before, except that the target had been changed.

I’m not suggesting that these tsunamis of online outrage are bad because their targets are invalid. Sometimes they are, but that’s not my point. My point is that participation in them is harmful — to you, and to us all — even though, maybe even especially when, its targets are completely valid.

It’s a weird and crazy and utopian notion, I know, but here’s an odd proposal. Maybe it’s too much to ask that you stop tweeting snd sharing your outrage and hate. But how about this: if you do participate, then for every ejaculation of fury, add another one, a balancing tweet, a quick thoughtful Facebook post, wherein you express some compassion — again, not sympathy, not agreement, but compassion — for someone with whom you bitterly disagree. You never know. It might become a habit.

source https://techcrunch.com/2019/01/27/the-new-two-minutes-hate/

[its-a-lark-blog]

Aggretsuko vs. Xenoblade Chronicles 2 -- "Woman's Work"

I care about issues. I care because people are people; And people have feelings. Even if those people are neurotypicals who want to see my autistic brain zapped out of existence for the heinous sin of being different to theirs? I still wouldn't want to see them suffer. I might want to hammer some empathy, care, and wisdom into them, but I'd never want to see them suffer.

I've pointed this out before -- If a feminist is shitty to a trans person, I'll still support feminism because feminists don't deserve to suffer. If a trans person is shitty to otherkin, I'll still support them for the same reason. I wish more of the supposedly sapient life on this planet actually understood this and practised it. I'm just dumbfounded by the lack of care. You want care but you're not really willing to give it? That's kind of selfish and narcissistic, don't you think?

It's interesting how many cultures of men have an issue with this as well. Oh, they'd like their largely imagined grievances heard but they'd turn a blind ear to all the suffering women have to endure. Aggretsuko is a grand illustration of this and it's why Japan's birth rates are dropping like a stone. Oh, no, they are! if this keeps up then the Japanese ethnicity will be gone within a few generations and no amount of paid off Swingles nights from the Japanese gov't could fix it.

Why don't Japanese women want to take interest in the men?

"Women's work."

And Aggretsuko explains this sublimely. If you've not watched it (it's on Netflix), then I'd heartily recommend it. This is why some white Alt-Right dudes -- who've got their heads so far up their arses that they see only very narrowly through their own nostrils -- didn't understand the problem with Xenoblade Chronicles. You see, it wasn't just that Pyra -- one of the main characters -- had an outfit meant for men to ogle, but that her job was woman's work.

That's why straight Alt-Right guys are invariably single? Are there any gay Alt-Right people despite the Alt-Right being homophobic? Probably, people are just that stupid that they'd forgive those who hate them or hate others. I'm not quite that forgiving, myself, as I think that causing another person to suffer just 'cause you're trying to appeal to a Nazi status quo is the very, very worst kind of awful cowardice. If you do that, you're betraying everyone, including yourself.

I don't want to digress too much -- But this is why I give gay people who shit on trans people, or trans people who shit on otherkin a lot of flack. They're spineless cowards who make things worse for everyone and I wish they'd stop identifying as gay/trans or whatever else they think they are because by identifying in that way and appealing to the Nazi status quo, they're just making things worse for everyone. We'd all be better off if they just packed up and left, I'm sure they would much more prefer an officially recognised position as brainwashed Nazi lapdogs anyway. I think that'd make them happier. They'd get to wear gimp suits and say "Yes Sir" a lot. That'd do it for them, I think.

Anyway, there are gay people who don't attack trans, just as there are trans people who don't attack otherkin, et cetera. Why? They recognise that the Nazi status quo is harmful to everyone. We're all human beings, after all, we're all sepient creatures that have feelings and we can all suffer. As such, it's humane and caring to realise that if you don't want to suffer, other people don't either. Only narcissists fail at this equation, I think. And like I said, they can go and prostrate themselves before Nazis. Enjoy the gimp suits.

Deeply unpleasant people, really. Nasty lot. And we shouldn't give anyone who can't recognise that other people are equal and deserve to not suffer a free pass. It's like what I spoke of with Karl Popper's Paradox of Intolerance. If we aren't incredibly intolerant of intolerance, then tolerance dies. That's the way of things, so we have to be willing to not pull our punches. If someone's being a Nazi, you call them a Nazi; If someone's being a Nazi lapdog, you call them that, too.

And yes, feminists, trans people, gay folk, otherkin, or anyone of any group that experiences prejudice can be a Nazi lapdog. It's mostly spineless cowardice, in that they'd prefer to kowtow to Nazi thinking for a quiet life rather than to stand with the rest of us in a show of solidarity. We're all in this together, right? No mwatter what walk of life you're from, you should stand up to supremacist Nazi sentiments of inequality. You need to be willing to put yourself on the line for other people.

I actually do that, in real life and on the internet. It doesn't give me the easiest life, I'll tell you that, but would you like to know what I can do that Nazi lapdogs will never be able to? I can sleep well at night.

Inequality that leads to suffering is Nazi thinking and needs to be stamped out.

And the notion of 'woman's work' is as much a supremacist Nazi notion as any other. Japan's not immune to Nazi sentiment, there's as much of it there as there is anywhere else. Birthrates are dropping because the men are all wound up in Nazi sentiment and they think that being a stay-at-home wife who rears and raises children, who organises the house, who cooks for the man? Well, that's 'woman's work' and that's what all women should aspire to. Women are just sick of it, no matter where in the world they are. It's why -- as studies show -- both Japanese men and Alt-Right men alike can't land a date, they're all single.

Let's get back to Xenoblade Chronicles and the issue I had with it that Nazi lapdogs would prefer to delude both themselves and others about, they'd rather think they don't see it and therefore neither do we. You see, being a submissive woman who's a healer -- a nurse, effectively? That's 'woman's work.' Whereas being a frontline fighter? That's 'man's work.' Sadly, you even get women being apologists for this, the US Gamer website had one journalist who believed it acceptable to behave this way. Just another cowardly Nazi lapdog.

Aggretsuko starts off like that -- She's an apologist for Nazi thinking and puts up with mistreatment by men. It's only thanks to two powerful women (the secretary secretarybird Washimi, and the gorilla Gori) that she even begins to take the kind of stand she'd need to enjoy happiness in life. She has a lot of incredibly toxic ideas at first that she has to work through to become a more complete and hpapy person. In the end, she outright refuses to be a lapdog any longer and is rewarded with fulfilment and happiness.

Her life might be less easy now that she's standing up for herself but at least now she won't be walked all over by men who dictate to her what women can and cannot do. The problem with a game like Xenoblade Chronicles 2 -- and why I'm so mad at Japan despite loving so much of it -- is with characters like Pyra who quietly accept what is 'women's work' and, supposedly, 'men's work.' Pyra naturally has to be a submissive healer, not a frontline brawler.

Similarly, men can't ever serve the role of healer because it's 'demeaning' for a man. This is why I have an equal amount of umbrage for Overwatch and what its community healthily refers to as 'healsluts.' Women meant for men to ogle who do 'women's work' for the men. Huzzah, Nazi sentiment defining people, woo. Not like that ever went horribly wrong, right?

Bloody hell. Kids these days. Dew dew. Sometimes I want to smack them all collectively with a very large newspaper. A newspaper large enough to do that. I don't think there is one, nor do I know where they all are, so they're off the hook for now and this is a chance for them to get their act together.

I'd recommend Aggretsuko for any short-sighted blowhard who's unable to understand what women have to deal with. And it's disingenuous to assume this is just in the eastern workplace as well; In the USA and Europe there are still plenty of old men in corporate structures who have incredibly outdated views of what men and women can and cannot respectively do. I wish I could've bought Xenoblade Chronicles 2 -- It has a talking tiger that's actually an AI stored in a living weapon. I live for that nonsense. Yet I'm not allowed to enjoy it as confoundingly Nintendo thought it all right and completely acceptable to leave Nazi sentiment lingering in that game instead of actually doing the work to improve it for everyone.

I wouldn't be surprised if there are some women in Japan who import certain localised games from the West simply because of this improved state of affairs. For example, Xenoblade Chronicles X was localised to fix many of these issues, with only a few left lingering, and as such it's an objectively superior experience when compared against the Japanese original. I feel bad for Japanese women though; Even though they're putting their foot down with their men, their blissfully oblivious men are too vacuous to notice.

That's unfortunate, but it's still not acceptable. It does make me happy to see creations like Aggretsuko though and I certainly hope we see more of them. What we need is more of Aggretsuko and less of Xenoblade Chronicles 2. Nintendo, you wonder why the popularity of Japanese games is dropping in the West? This is why. It hurts your sales, because the contingent of Alt-Right people who'd think this acceptable is tiny compared to those who'd want to make a statement by leaving it on the shelves -- As I did.

It's this kind of thinking that'll sink the good ship Nintendo. They need the western market, so they need to improve their equality game to appeal to a wider range of customers. The world needs to keep moving towards more and more equality, to say no to Nazi sentiments and shame cowardly Nazi lapdogs.

Sigh.

Thankfully, there are good people out there who'll understand this. I feel that the number of them are increasing every day. I want to believe that empathy is becoming more commonplace, that the sentiment of appeasing a Nazi status quo is being replaced with punching Nazis in the face for being horrible monsters. That's where the world needs to go.

We're all human beings. We can all suffer. If you can suffer, so can I. If I can suffer, so can you. And there's much we have to suffer together, so there's no reason we shouldn't all stand together as a united front against the real enemy. The kinds of Nazi sentiments that cause us to suffer in the first place.

There are three concepts that I've declared as my mortal enemies, whom I'm ready to stamp out whenever and wherever I get the chance. I've declared them in numerous past posts but I want to do so again, until I'm blue in the face. Your problem isn't with trans people, or gay people, or otherkin... Stop being a Nazi lapdog! Your suffering is sourced from Nazis thanks to three incredibly toxic ideologies that they hold dear.

Supremacy – Where any person believes themselves to be better than another;

Enforced Suffering – Where any person is forced to experience torture and anguish against their will;

Institutionalised Uselessness – Where the world is designed in such a way that some people are never allowed to offer their worth.

It's those concepts and the ones who hold them that you have to fight, tooth and nail, in whatever way you deem necessary. A Nazi is anyone who holds those three toxic ideologies, and sadly there is a contingent of these people in every culture, today; And worse, there's a larger contingent of cowardly, spineless lapdogs who kowtow to them and obey them.

In this case, the three toxic ideologies manifest as 'women's work.'

Why?

Supremacy -- Men who believe themselves superior to women so there are tasks they believe they can achieve with more efficiency or that there are tasks that women aren't capable of at all;

Enforced Suffering -- The self-esteem and confidence of women is whittled down intentionally to 'keep them in their place,' this is so that men can continue to hold their power over women and keep the status quo;

Institutionalised Uselessness -- Women are conditioned, brainwashed, to accept tehir role in life and never question it, this has been referred to as 'internalised misogyny' but the problem runs much deeper than that, it's a programmed feeling of the uselessness of their gender that they can't shake.

And that's fucking awful. That's why characters like Pyra in Xenoblade Chronicles 2 bother me so much -- Because she seems so brainwashed into Nazi thinking that she's unable to be anything other than the objectified, man-serving nurse that she was literally made to be. And that's telling, isn't it? She was created by a man to serve these roles, she was programmed to obey them and find them fulfilling. Which, apparently, Nadia Oxford at US Gamer doesn't see as problematic.

That's because I think Nadia has been programmed in exactly this way. She isn't aware of it, so she simply repeats the Nazi signal to uphold the status quo.

This attitude is commonplace in Japan, that women should be seen in the way Pyra is seen. A xexy, submissive nurse ready to serve the needs of men at the drop of a hat, putting the desires of men above everything else, including their own happiness as if they were nothing more than robots. And in Xenoblade Chronicles they bloody ARE robots, which is just a fetish.

Here's what I'm trying to get at: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 is a fetish game. It's a fetish game about the desired end-point for women, where the female gender is forced to abandon what little agency, sapience, independence, individuality, and drive it has in Japanese culture and become nothing more than a pretty drone, waiting on men hand and foot.

Sure, sure, sure... Xenoblade Chronicles 2, at one point, makes a half-hearted attempt to point out that this is toxic. It's mumbled under the breath as a sort of disclaimer so that they can get back to enjoying fetishised views of women. It's not exactly a core tennet of the game, it never was. The primary tennet of Xenoblade Chronicles 2 is that women are made to serve men.

Which is why there are so many female blades.

It's a fetish game.

Thankfully, all of Japan isn't like that. Thankfully. And things are beginning to slowly turn around, there. What needs to happen though is for the Japanese gov't to actually realise that the misogyny that's become so acceptable in Japanese culture is why birthrates are dropping. This is why it's imperative for them to do more to fix this via laws and education -- Young men should have it explained to them in school from a very young age why this isn't okay. Why it's just as acceptable for a man to be the stay-at-home wife as it is for the woman to be successful at business. This is for the Japanese gov't to do, and until they do, birthrates will just continue to drop like a stone.

When actual fetish games like Xenoblade Chronicles 2 are being developed and released over there? That's when you know you have a problem. The only way they could possibly have made this worse is if they'd actually dressed up the women in gimp suits to exemplify their brainwashed lapdog status.

Japan should be encouraging its men to see their women as more akin to Washimi than Pyra.