#Frozen: War Arc

[swan2swan]

Watched "Into the Unknown" again for no particular reason whatsoever, and besides being the highlight of a movie that was meddled into absolute disappointment, I was struck by the genius of this shot as I watched Elsa run toward the edge of the cliff and remembered, "Oh, right, she stops at the edge and reaches out."

But no.

The movie is BETTER THAN THAT and has her make an extension out of ice, showing that Elsa's capable of pushing herself farther than the boundaries nature set for her, and that she's willing to go the extra distance to solve this mystery (which apparently the writers themselves didn't even have solved at the time).

It's just Good Animation. No one else is gonna do that. Every other character is going to stop where the cliff says "stop", but Elsa has MAGIC and she USES IT.

[brokentrafficknight]

Winter: Penny being a part of my soul has nothing to do with my attraction. Even if I want Jaune to protect me and constantly hug Ruby, that's proof of nothing.

[demonio-fleurs]

top ten naruto panels that break my heart

[mamangasick]

Bleach

Tite Kubo

[eye-of-the-tigerseye]

Can the creators of The Clone Wars please remake the og series in the same style? I need 8 seasons of the original trio please and thank you.

[reginaofdoctorwho]

talking to a guy and he’s like “how the fuck do you have all this shit memorized?” my brother in christ i memorized a movie as a kid because i got bored during state tests

[immagods]

Then there are the whispers of a clone frozen in stasis. A medic trying to save his brothers, only to wake up and realise he is the last, all his brothers are gone. They are just rumours. No one's sure if they are true or not, until one day.

One day where Kix sitting in a cantina in the outer rim, where he sees a group of people gathered around a holo. He pays no mind to it at first, that is, until he hears someone say a familiar name. A name he hasn't heard spoken out loud in a long time. A brothers name.

So he gets closer, and he sees what the group of people are looking at. It's the photo. The photo that Rex had hanging on the wall of his office, the one of him, Fives, Echo and Cody. The photo that Fives always said made him and Echo Rex's favourites. Kix remembers that holo, he remembers the battle when it was taken. Remembers it was just after Fives and Echo had gotten back from Arc training. Remembers that he was just behind the camera, waiting to chew Fives out; because 'even if you have ARC training now. It doesn't mean that you can go and do stupid risky shit all the time trying to impress the shinies.'

Kix is drawn from the memories of ghosts when he feels someone tap him on the arm. It's a young girl with big blue familiar looking eyes, and she says that she thinks it cool that he looks exactly like the brave soldiers she learnt about in school. She asks him if his grandfather was a clone, if he knew any clones, if he's heard any stories of the clones. Kix stares at the girl for a moment, thinking about another girl with curious blue eyes, before he answers her. He tells her that he is a clone, that he has so many stories that he can't even count them.

With wide eyes, the girl drags him closer to the holo and pointing at it asks him if he knows the clones in the photo.

And Kix, looking at the holo, thinks of the old mando'a that they used to say; Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.'

So he tells the girl.

He tells her how they were his brothers. He tells her how he was apart of the 501st. He tells her how they fought for freedom. He tells her how they were always finding ways to laugh during the war. He tells her how they adopted the jedi into their family. He tells her how no matter how bad things got the clones knew they would be okay as long as they had eachother. He tells her their names.

The more stories he tells the more people listen. And word spreads. The Clones are not all gone. There is one left. And he's telling the stories of the clones, the stories that, when there where millions of clone alive no one wanted to hear. But they want to hear them now, they want to know the clones now. They want to know the worriors that fought for freedom and laid down the foundations for everything after. They clones story may be a tragedy, but it will not be forgotten.

The Vode will be remembered.

[artbyblastweave]

So I want to draw out some of the grousings I put in the tags of @phaeton-flier's recent post on Waller's characterization in My Adventures with Superman.

I think the problem you're gonna run into with adapting Waller in 2024 is that they basically nailed her completely twenty years ago in the DCAU Justice League continuity, they already captured the perfect balance of good intentions and ruthless utilitarian amorality. In the DCAU, Waller's arrival on the scene was contextualized by more than a decade of superheroic precedent- she lives in a world where Superman specifically got brainwashed into attacking earth, she lives in a world where Kryptonian war criminals took a shot at Earth, she lives in a world where an alternate-universe totalitarian Superman crossed dimensional boundaries to take a shot at earth. She lives in a world where Superman helped disarm the world's nuclear arsenal at the behest of a guy who turned out to be the fifth column for an extraterrestrial invasion. She lives in a world where the Justice League formed specifically to stop something similar happening again and then tripped over their own dicks when one of their founding members turned out to be a partisan mole for an extraterrestrial empire. She lives in a world where these city-leveling clowns have consolidated sixty or seventy other city-leveling clowns in an orbiting circus that's armed with a city-leveling orbital laser canon. This is just the stuff that would have made the in-universe news, there's even more I'm not mentioning here. In other words, she lives in a world where it's completely reasonable not to trust the superheroes and to want to have contingencies against them.

She does horrible things in pursuit of those contingencies, but they're targeted, goal oriented horrible things. Aside from her usual suicide squad routine she clones and basically enslaves dozens of super-soldiers, which is of course terrible on the face of it, but comparatively easy to justify from the realpolitik cold-equation way in which she approaches things. When her bullshit generates externalities for civilians, it's not because she sics those super soldiers on them. She doesn't declare martial law. That's not what she's after! She just keeps losing control of the bastards, and then she shrugs, and she signs off on additional bastards from scientists and magicians who've proven time and time again that they do not have their shit buttoned down- but what else is she going to do? Roll over? Let the capes treat the world like their playground?

Crucially, the DCAU version is also capable of realizing when she's prioritized the wrong threat- she's capable of re-evaluating and de-escalating. She's got a foil on that show, a guy who starts from the same place of concern as her but isn't capable of course-correcting because he's too much of a belligerent paranoid maniac. That guy is General Wade Eiling. And in a version of MAWS that doesn't need to set Sam Lane up for a redemption arc, I would have Waller as the one in Sam's position, as the well-meaning extremist who loses control of the monster she created and gets frozen out in favor of a significantly less principled hardliner in the form of Eiling. Alas.

The fundamental thing about Waller, at least to me, is that she's uninteresting as a ground-floor antagonist. While I've yet to get around to the original Suicide Squad run where Waller originated, I'm confident in my understanding that it was a postmodern project from the word go, exploiting years of ossified genre convention and rogue's gallery bloat to make the points that it was trying to make. This is part of why I think the first Suicide Squad film went over like a lead balloon- it tried to wish that built-up continuity into existence out of nowhere, whereas the second movie was simply a lot more naturalistic about faking that larger context. This show feels like it's doing something similar on a meta-level- exploiting decades of audience familiarity with Waller and how plots involving her tend to go, in a way that papers over how weirdly early in the progression of this continuity they've brought her into the fray. She usually isn't the joyless jackboot on the frontline trying to snuff out the incipient heroic age- she's the beleaguered repairmen brought in years after the novelty has worn off, after the superheroes have had their goddamn chance, with all the ups and downs and near-misses that entails, so that she can make entirely novel mistakes in reaction to that context. As it stands, she's kind of 0 to 100 in this, and something about it feels off.

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 1

Propaganda:

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear:

THEY LITERALLY MADE MR CRY THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED THE GAME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY FINALLY GET TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME.

they are married in canon and are epic and amazing. they had sad canon events where bob thought helmut was dead for like 30 years or something but helmut WASN'T dead his brain was still alive and they are reunited in the game first by way of stealing an evil dictator's body and then later on they put helmut's brain in a ball as a temporary fix while they go out to find his body which has been frozen in ice. the game forces you to walk through bob's memory of saying his vows at their wedding ceremony and it's seriously some of the most romantic and heartwarming shit i've ever heard, especially "just when i thought i was turning to seed, you made me bloom again" like my god. i love them

they're gay and old as hell!!!! there's a level dedicated to their wedding!!!

Helmut is voiced by Jack Black and is currently a brain in a ball, and Bob knows him so well that the mental image of him in his drunken mind says things Bob KNOWS the real Helmut would never say. Also Helmut is temporarily in the body of a guy voiced by Elijah Wood-

Craig Cuttlefish/DJ Octavio:

well you see they used to be friends but were on opposite sides of the great turf war. cuttlefish gets a 14 year old to go stop octavios army. also they argue in splatoon 3 which is just part of the 100+ year divorce arc BUT AT THE FINAL BOSS IN THE JAPANESE VERSION THEY SHARE THE ICONIC LINE THAT CUES THE CALAMARI INKANTATION AND IN THE ENGLISH CUTTLEFISH TELLS OCTAVIO TO "HIT IT" AND START THE MUSIC AND MUSIC IS SO IMPORTANT TO THE SPLATOON UNIVERSE YAAAAA ik its grasping but its lovers to enemies

Literally I have seen so many people call this old man yaoi.

Old men divorce!!!

They're old men who made their divorce the problem of every young person in their lives <3. 100 years ago during the Great Turf War between inklings and octarians, Craig and Octavio were the chosen ambassadors of their respective species. They got along well, but unfortunately found themselves on opposite sides of the war. During one of the battles Craig shot Octavio in the heart. The inlkings won the war and the octarians were forced underground. For years afterward both men grew bitter towards each other, and eventually Octavio attacked the new Squidbeak Splatoon (a group of secret agents recruited by Craig). Octavio lost both times and got imprisoned in a giant snow globe (and Craig calls him cute). In the latest game Octavio got over his hatred for Inklings (Craig's species) and used his flying mech to help defeat the BBEG of the game. After the final fight, Craig said something to the effect of 'that old rascal turned out to be not so bad!'.

Alright ok hear me out! These two old men have fought in wars for their races against each other and have the craziest pathetic old man homoerotic tension ever. They like, went from at least respecting each other before the war and then they were forced to fight each other and then when Cuttlefish's side won, Octavio went underground like a pathetic lil wet cat and later on he kidnapped Cuttlefish because of game related reasons and both of them still have way too much homoerotic tension!!! And then Octavio gets owned and then in the second game Octavio decides that "Hey actually, lets kidnap Cuttlefish's granddaughter" and the old man isnt even there cause hes busy being a pathetic old man in the under-underground!!! And in the third game they go fron rival/enemies to reluctantly working together to save the world from actual extinction bc some durry bitch wants to cover it in fuzzy ooze and like, both of them have so much old man ship potential and just- theyre still pining for each other even after over a 100 years man,,,,

I personally headcanon Cap'n Cuttlefish as homophobic, but I see the ship a lot and think it's funny.

They’re both at least like 125 probably a bit older, they are so divorced, like peak lovers to enemies back to lovers, Cap’n Cuttlefish calls Octavio cute in Splatoon one immediately after you rescue him from Octavio kidnapping him? So dysfunctional, so gay, so old

They fought in the Great Turf War which was said to be over 100 years ago, Capn Cuttlefish was, well, a captain I believe (he had some sort of rank even if he wasn't a captain, like he led a battle that's singled out in the sunken scrolls of the first game). they act so divorced in the singleplayer mode like they cannot stop insulting each other specifically but octavio always comes back and like kidnaps or insults captain cuttlefish it's so. and when the great zapfish gets stolen in splatoon 3 captain cuttlefish is like "it's the octarians again i know it" like divorced behavior. also it wasn't this time and octavio gets super weird about it. maybe you should stop using children as props in your drama though.

my favorite war crime divorcees <3

They basically are friends to enemies to lovers. Both of them fought in a war that hurt DJ Octavio so bad he can’t become an inkling.

friends -> enemies -> lovers. what more is there to say

they are soooo divorced

they were so gay their breakup ended a war

Craig Cuttlefish got sucked dry by a bear

they got divorced but then they got remarried . they fuckinf hate eachother but they also make out sloppy style and i do not know how that works because neither of them have mouths in their swim form which they are both permanently stuck in. love wins but also loses at the same time with these fucking losers

they are sooo divorced omg. istg they were dating when they were younger and then war n shit happened and now theyre bitter exes who probably still make out sometimes. Makes it so much funnier that theyre old ass men (both over 100!) and Cuttlefish has grandkids

They were on opposite sides of a war and still fell in love

[lebbys-world]

I was wondering if request based of the manga base on chapters 365 -406 like you know how bakugou is currently severely injured in manga /anime instead of bakugou almost dying it’s the reader who takes all the hits blow for him when fighting shigaraki crushing reader arm and taking major brutal blow to chest to protect bakugou and since reader she cares about him aslo maybe reader quirk could be like somewhat similar to scarlet witch mcu or raven from teen titans but whichever you prefer maybe when fighting Shigaraki since reader was using her quirk to full strength potential maybe her powers it started corrupted her due over usage making Shigaraki have the upper hand i hope this makes sense can the ending have fluff and angst type fic if this ok i hope this requests is ok makes sense if uncomfortable with i can definitely change it

To Be a Hero

Bakugo x gn!reader; mentions of injury, battle, self-sacrifice, self-deprecation/insecurities, end of the war arc, angst to comfort

notes: thank you sm for the request, and thanks sm for your patience !! everything has been crazy rn for me because of college. i love bakugos character sm, especially just his development, so i hope this does him a bit of justice.

You’d never felt the world sting so harshly before.

The very air around you tore at your skin, debris scattered around, making quick lacerations. 

You’d come into this battle no more than an ambitious child, striving to save those you could.

But now?

You’d seen more blood than you’d ever thought you would.

The smell of death was burned into your very existence. 

It made you nauseous.

You just wanted this all to be over.

Yet, here you stood, center of the battlefield, watching as Shigaraki tore to pieces the life you once loved.

For the first time in years, you didn’t feel like a hero.

Your body stood frozen, watching as those around you fought with everything they had.

Why can’t I help them? You beg of yourself.

Those you love are risking their lives- losing their lives.

But your body has had enough.

Too much has poured out from every aching wound on your body.

Your head pounds, both reminding you of the physical pain and your mental inability to process the situation at hand.

Maybe you weren’t meant to be a hero, after all.

Above, an array of light drew your eyes.

You see Bakugo, battered, bloodied- the damn bastard barely even able to stand.

He’s flying through the air, putting himself straight in the middle of the action.

He was always that way.

You admired that about him- his sense of selflessness when it really mattered.

He wanted to be the best, and he sure had a chance at it.

Yet, you realize what’s happening before you even can properly see it.

He’s diving in, head-first, straight towards the same Shigaraki that killed so many of the Pro-Heros. 

He may want to be the best, but he isn't the best yet.

That same selflessness you loved was the selflessness that was going to get him killed.

He wasn’t going to land the shot. 

You lurched off the ground, your feet moving without you even telling them to.

You positioned yourself perfectly, feeling the impact hit you like a warm embrace.

You smile to yourself:

Now, they’ve got another chance.

The world spun for a moment, as your hearing dulled. 

That crash onto the ground must’ve really taken a toll on you.

Either that, or, maybe the gaping hole in your chest.

You gaze into the blurry sky, letting the gray clouds turn black in your vision.

From a distance, you think you can hear a familiar voice screaming your name.

The world goes away before you put a name to that familiarity.

. . .

You awake to the sound of patterned beeps, the scent of sterilizing products hitting your nose quickly after.

As you open your eyes, the bright, fluorescent light forces you to close them again, hesitantly getting yourself out of your slumber. 

The rustling of your sheets alerted the blonde sitting in the chair beside you, urging him to get up at once.

He looked at you gently, as though you were more fragile than glass.

The guilt he felt practically ran through him.

Why did you step in like that, Y/N.

They barely kept you alive on the battlefield.

And every surgery you’d had kept him on edge.

He’d lost so much, already.

He couldn’t lose you, too.

You opened your eyes enough to glance at the face in front of you, mumbling the familiar name:

“...Katsuki?”

“Oi, looks like someone’s finally awake.” 

His usual demeanor seemed softer, almost as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“..where are we?”

“-hospital. You’ve been in here since you pulled that stupid stunt of yours.”

You looked at him silently, processing the fact that you even made it out of that alive.

Last you recall, the world had fallen dark.

You’d really accepted dying in that moment.

Yet, God had other plans it seems, since here you were, alive and, mostly, well.

You couldn’t quite believe it, but seeing the boy in front of you, you were grateful.

“Snap out of it” Bakugo hissed at you, rolling his eyes. 

He thought to himself for a moment, before putting his head in his hands.

“Damn it, Y/N, don’t do that ever again.”

“...do what?” You respond, still in a daze.

"..."

“Trying to get yourself killed like that.” 

You looked at him, as you took in his words,

“Don't step in the way for me, you idiot. It might get ya hurt, or worse, don’tcha see?”

“I didn’t try to.” You explained, slightly shifting in your hospital bed to fully face him.

His demeanor had changed from his usual self, and was instead filled with disdain. 

He’d be tearing himself apart over this - that much, you figured.

“My feet ‘moved on their own’” you smiled, repeating the words so often uttered around class.

He scoffed, shaking his head, before putting your hand in his. 

He smiled at you wholly, 

“I guess that makes you a real hero then, huh?”

"..."

“I guess so.”

all fictional works are for entertainment purposes only. all rights to characters, media, references, and other third party materials belong to their respective owners. do not repurpose, modify, copy, or repost my work to other sites without permission. © @lebbys-world 2024.

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[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

I’ve been rereading AGOT and this is how I’d summarize Jon Snow’s entire arc chapter by chapter

Jon l - Local teen bastard has a big realization that he has no social status while attending a royal party. He bursts into tears and goes to sulk in a corner.

[Interlude] Arya I - Local elementary schooler has an awakening about the unfairness of feudalism. She joins her aforementioned teen brother as they sulk in a corner.

[Interlude] Bran II - Elementary-age boy worried that his moody teen brother is sulking in corners far too much. He then has a terrible accident, which is a precursor to him sulking in corners as well.

Jon II - Local moody teen realizes that one should not make rash, life altering decisions while drunk. Now realizing that he has signed up for his local JROTC, which is a lifelong commitment to a frozen penal colony, he sulks around multiple corners as he says goodbye to several family members.

[Interlude] Tyrion II - Florida man makes fun of moody teenage military recruit who has just now realized that he has fallen victim to untruthful feudalist military propaganda. He laughs as the teen proceeds to sulk in a (fiery) corner.

Jon III - A local moody teen is forced to check his privilegeᵀᴹ after behaving in an appalling manner towards his fellow army recruits. Lonely, depressed, and homesick, he proceeds to sulk in a corner for a few days, but manages to make a few friends nonetheless.

[Interlude] Tyrion III - Perpetually drunk and annoying know-it-all Florida man strikes an unlikely friendship with a moody teen who has a tendency to sulk in corners due to issues making friends.

Jon IV - Local moody teen makes a new friend during JROTC training. Said friend is bullied for his exceptionally large frame, which makes for a rather poor soldier, but the moody teen stands up for him in front of the entire army base. The bullying eventually stops due to his efforts. Later, the two boys go to sulk in a corner, bonding over their shared sense of insecurity and rejection.

Jon V - Local moody teen finds out that his new bff is flunking JROTC. He proceeds to sulk in a forest, but still thinks of a solution to save said friend. Spoiler: he is successful and his friend graduates just fine.

Jon VI - Local moody teen graduates JROTC, but as a junior officer which is not at all what he wanted. He very angrily sulks out in the open, throwing a massive fit while he’s at it, until it is pointed out to him (much to his embarrassment) that this post will directly put him in the line of command.

Jon VII - Local moody teen learns that his beloved father has been imprisoned on grounds of treason. Incensed, he attacks a senior officer who makes fun of the situation. He is placed on house arrest by the army commander, which gives him plenty of time to sulk in a corner. However, his sulking is cut short when zombies attack the army base and he has to save the commander.

Jon VIII - For his bravery while fighting a zombie, local moody teen is gifted a special magic sword. He sulks about it because it should’ve been his father’s sword he’s getting. He is also conflicted because while he has already said his vows and bound himself to the penal colony, he still wants to go aid his family which is now on the brink of war after his father’s execution. Unable to do much else, he has no other choice but to go around sulking in several corners.

Jon IX - Local moody teen makes the foolish decision to dip out of army school to join his family that has gone off to war. He broodily decides to help his brother enact revenge for his father’s murder. However, he is unable to get very far because his friends catch up to him (with the help of his equally moody pet wolf) and is ultimately convinced to go back. Once he returns, the army commander gives him a good talking to and tells him that it’s time to grow up go on a real mission. This local teen has been looking forward to this the entire time, but he wants to go aid his family. He is forced to make a heartbreaking decision. Ultimately choosing duty over love, he has no choice but to make his way towards the north and sulk in whatever corners he will come across beyond the wall.

[ltash]

Soul to my soul

Rooh arr Rooh/ روح اروح

Warning: Extreme angst, nonconsent, DubCon, violence, death.

"Blurred past evaporating from teardrops,

"Unending dreams carving an arc of smile,

"And a fleeting life,

"Negotiating between the two,"

Black tears mixed with kohl streamed down your innocent angelic face. Cherry plump lips quivering and wounded. The white silk hijab is dishelved. Your soft pink abaya gown muddy. Your lip slightly cut from a side and bruised. His finger impressions on your delicate neck. You looked like a broken porcelein doll, a fallen angel running away from the Ghost you once loved because you were accused of being a traitor. Ghost was after you, seething with anger as you fled, running away from him to save your life. He forgot he loved you, forgot all the promises because in that moment he only saw you as a traitor.

"Simon!" Please, let me explain.

"Explain? Explain what? How did you betray me? How did you stab me in the back? You're not even worth the breath it takes to explain. You're nothing but a lying, manipulative, TRAITOR!"

He dragged you all the way back to his apartment.

The clock ticked softly, Tik, Tik, Tik, as you lay motionless on the cold floor of his apartment. Your head covering lay discarded, crumpled beside you, the reverence it once held now lost in the chaos. Lips bruised, your swollen eyes threatened to spill the tears you had been holding back, but your face remained frozen, a portrait of fear and disbelief.

Your long raven hair, freed from its confines, fanned out around your head like a dark, ethereal halo, contrasting sharply with the bloodstain that bloomed on your soft pink gown, stark and unforgiving. It spread just beneath your ribs, right at the center of your being. Pain pulsed between your legs, a searing throb that refused to be ignored as your thighs squeezed together, your body curling in on itself.

Only hours earlier, you had been happy—so happy. You were in his apartment, celebrating your birthday. He had planned it, a small celebration meant just for you.

He sat on the couch, staring blankly at the clock, his hands clenched into fists. The celebratory atmosphere from earlier had dissipated, replaced by an eerie silence. Every so often, he'd glance at the door, expecting to see you walk back in, but you never did. "Fuck..."

You lay on the cold floor of the living room, staring blankly at the spot of blood that now marked the room—marked you. It was a cruel reminder of what had happened, the pain that had been inflicted. Your whole body ached, covered in bruises, every inch of your skin painted with the ghostly remnants of his touch, hickeys that once might have felt intimate but now felt like scars.

But the pain wasn’t just physical. It was deeper, a searing ache that burrowed into your chest and twisted in your gut. It was emotional, gnawing away at the parts of you that still held hope, that still believed this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t him. Tears welled in your eyes, but you held them back, refusing to let the pain spill over, as if crying would only make it more real.

And so you lay there, consumed by the silent war inside you, your body broken and your spirit trembling.

His gaze finally fell on you, his face contorting with a mix of emotions - anger, guilt, regret. He approached you cautiously, his movements jerky. "Look at me..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please, look at me..."

He was the man you had fallen for, the man you admired, "Lieutenant Simon Riley. To the world, he was a force to be feared, a looming figure in the shadows. To his enemies, he was the grim reaper himself, his name whispered in terror. But to you, he was more than that. He was everything. He was the one who held you close on stormy nights, the one who protected you from the darkness that surrounded him. You had seen the parts of him no one else dared to, the parts he had kept hidden beneath that stoic mask.

But now, as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, your body battered and broken, lips swollen from his rage, it felt like that man was gone. The man you loved had disappeared behind the hard lines of anger etched into his face, all because of a single call one that branded you a traitor.

It had only taken a few words, a voice on the other end of the line, to destroy everything you had built together. The trust, the love—it all seemed to disintegrate in the blink of an eye. You could still hear the ringing in your ears, the accusation hanging over you like a noose.

But you weren’t the enemy. You weren’t the person that call had made you out to be. Yet here you were, lying at his feet, broken not by war but by the man you thought would always protect you. And in that moment, even as your heart screamed for him to see the truth, the weight of betrayal hung between you like a wall that neither of you could tear down.

He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and rage. "I... I'm so sorry..." he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out to touch you gently, as if you were a fragile glass doll about to shatter into pieces.

Tik, Tik, Tik, the clock ticked...

You remembered the day you had introduced Simon to your father, a moment fraught with hope and anxiety. Your father's reaction had been explosive; he had seized his rifle, aiming it directly at you with a fury that was almost palpable. He had condemned you as an abomination, a sinner, and sworn he would kill you with his own hands if necessary.

In the face of such aggression, Simon had stepped in front of you, a shield against your father's wrath. His presence was a stark contrast to the anger in the room, a silent promise to protect you even as everything around you fell apart. Your fingers had intertwined with his, a desperate gesture of solidarity and trust amidst the chaos.

Your father’s voice had cut through the tension, cold and final. “Take her and get the fuck out of my home.”

Simon had taken your hand, pulling you away from everything you had ever known. As you left, the reality of the situation hit you with a crushing weight. That departure marked the last time you would see your home, a place that had once been a sanctuary now forever changed by that night. The memory of walking away, the finality of leaving behind the life you knew, lingered with you like a haunting echo, amplified by the relentless ticking of the clock.

As you lay there in those agonizing moments, the pain in your body ebbing and flowing with each shallow breath, your mind drifted back to that first night he had taken you to his apartment—the same apartment where you were now. Back then, it had been a sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of the world of your family. Simon had always been careful, gentle. He never touched you without your consent, always respecting the boundaries you set. He was the man you trusted, the man who protected you from everything, even from yourself at times.

But tonight, that trust had shattered.

Everything you had believed about him crumbled as you lay on the cold floor, the same floor where you'd once felt safe, cherished. The man you had given everything to had crossed a line you never thought he would. Whatever restraint he had once shown, whatever care he had taken with your heart and your body—it had all disappeared in a single, horrifying moment.

Tonight, he had played his last game. A game of anger, of possession, one where he no longer asked but took, one where he wasn’t the protector but the one who had inflicted the deepest wound. And there, in the silence, the weight of that betrayal pressed down on you like the heaviest burden, one that you weren’t sure you could ever lift.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. He knew he had made a grave mistake, crossing that line that he had always promised himself he would never cross without your consent.

Tik, Tik, Tik, the clock continued its relentless ticking, each second dragging you back into memories that felt like they belonged to someone else. You remembered how the night had begun, how everything had been perfect—*too* perfect. It was your birthday, and for once, you felt nothing but joy. Simon had been different, lighter somehow, making you laugh with his rare, crooked smile. The two of you had been full of life, a fleeting moment where the weight of the world felt miles away.

You could still hear the sound of your laughter, the warmth of that happiness wrapping around you like a blanket. You’d never felt so alive, so in love. The air had buzzed with celebration, with the promise of more memories to be made. The food, the candles, the quiet affection in his eyes—it had been everything you’d wanted, everything you needed.

And then the phone rang.

A simple phone call. It was all it took to shatter the night into a thousand irreparable pieces. His face had changed the moment he answered, his expression darkening like a cloud rolling in over a calm sky. You didn’t know who was on the other end, but whatever they said turned your perfect night into a nightmare.

Everything shifted after that. The celebration, the joy, the laughter, they vanished. In their place was suspicion, anger, a darkness you didn’t recognize in him. That phone call had taken everything you thought you knew about him and twisted it into something ugly, something dangerous. You saw the man you loved slip away, replaced by someone consumed by a single thought, a single accusation that poisoned everything between you.

He remembered the joy on your face as you blew out the candles on the cake he had baked with such care. The warmth of that moment seemed so distant now, replaced by the cold, relentless ticking of the clock. He recalled the sound of the phone ringing, slicing through the peaceful celebration like a blade. It had been such a jarring disruption, shattering the bubble of happiness you had been in.

The voice on the other end had accused you of being a traitor. Those words, harsh and unforgiving, had cast a dark shadow over everything. “It was a mistake…” he murmured, the weight of those accusations hanging heavily in the air. He knew now how wrong it had all been, how the call had distorted the reality of what was happening.

He remembered how he had acted in response to that call—his temper exploding uncontrollably. He had snatched the flowers you had loved and thrown them away, the delicate petals scattering like the remnants of your shattered celebration. He had broken things around the room, the rage that had consumed him, leaving a trail of destruction.

You remembered his temper all too well. You remembered how his anger had turned violent, the way his hand had raised in a gesture that had gone beyond words, beyond the breaking point. The violence that followed had been a cruel twist of the night, turning what should have been a joyous occasion into a nightmarish reality.

As you lay there, the echoes of that night reverberated in your mind, each memory a sharp reminder of how quickly joy had been replaced by pain.

You remembered the way he had dragged you across the floor as you fled his apartment, the cold, unforgiving surface pressing against your skin with each painful movement. It was a frantic scramble, a desperate attempt to escape from the man who had once been your protector and confidant. The room, once filled with laughter and warmth, was now a battlefield of shattered trust and escalating fear.

The man who had always respected your boundaries, who had never touched you without your consent, was now unrecognizable. The person you thought you knew, who had always held back, was buried deep inside a stranger who was hurting you in ways you never imagined. As you cried and pleaded, your voice was swallowed by his anger, by the force of his betrayal.

You could still feel the raw sting of that night—the way his actions had transformed him from someone you loved into a source of unimaginable pain. The contrast was jarring, and the realization that this was who he had become, even if only for that moment, was almost too much to bear. The memories of his once-gentle touch now felt like a cruel joke, tainted by the brutality that had followed.

"Simon! don't do this to me." You begged as you grabbed his leg.

He remembered the desperation in your voice as you begged him, your small hands clinging to his leg. He remembered the cold, unfeeling way he pried your hands off, the way he callously walked away, leaving you alone and broken on the unforgiving concrete. "Silence..."

You remembered him coming back and unbuckling his belt. The silence cut short.."Simon!" You breathed out his name. "Please don't." But he didn't listen.

He remembered the way his hand gripped the leather of his belt, the firmness in his movements as he unbuckled it, ready to inflict pain and domineer over you. He remembered the way you whispered his name, a plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears.

"You remembered him not even thinking the second time when he took your innocence, when he was deep inside you and you were helpless. The humiliatoin , the pain and the agony you went through, and you screamed.

He remembered the way he ignored your cries, the way he muffled your screams with his hand, the way he thrust into you without remorse. He remembered the way your body tensed up, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you sobbed uncontrollably.

"It hurts..."

But he continued.

"Simon!" You cried out his name with tears as he continued to ruin you, take your innocence as a revenge who wasn't even his.

He remembered the way you called out his name, tears streaming down your face, beging him to stop, to show mercy. But he didn't. He remembered the way he grunted in satisfaction, the way he relished in your pain and humiliation.

"Shhh..."

He remembered the way he ripped off your head covering, tossing it aside like it meant nothing to him. He remembered the way his eyes seemed to darken, his features twisting into a monstrous visage as he lost all trace of humanity.

"You're nothing..." he spat out, his voice dripping with contempt.

He remembered the way he held the gun to your forehead, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he took advantage of you. He remembered the promises he made, the vows of protection and loyalty he swore. But in that moment, all he cared about was his own satisfaction.

You were here broken, battered, and shattered in his home, which was once your safe haven.

The clock tiked tiked..

He remembered the sound of the clock ticking in the background, a steady rhythm that seemed to mock your situation. He remembered the way the room was silent except for your sobs and his grunt of effort as he fucked you senseless.

"Just a few more minutes..."

You were sprawled on the floor now..staring into the empty space, heart racing fast as you fought your own battle. Dignity lost, innocence lost, family and friends lost, he took everything from you because to him you were only a traitor.

He remembered how he pushed you down onto the cold hard floor, how he left you sprawled there, used and discarded. He remembered his words, cold and unfeeling. "You're just a traitor, nothing more. You deserve this."

He remembered the way your eyes looked up at him, pleading for mercy that he never gave. He remembered the way you fought, your tears staining the floor as you struggled against him. He remembered the way you smiled, a dream in your eyes, trusting him to protect you.

"Simon!" you whispered..

He remembered the way you whispered his name, like a prayer, a plea. He remembered the way he hardened his heart, steeling himself against your pain. He remembered the way he broke you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a shell of who you were.

"I'm so sorry..."

You started teetering on the edge of life and death, of consciousness and unconsciousness..

He remembered the way you wavered, your breathing shallow and ragged. He remembered the way he watched, impassive, as you fought for every breath. He remembered the way he let you fall, your body crumpling to the floor like a broken doll.

"Kill me!" You said. "Get this over with Simon." you whispered.

He remembered the way your eyes begged him to end it all. He remembered the way he hesitated, the tiniest hint of mercy flicker across his face. He remembered the way he shook his head, his voice cold and unyielding.

"You're not worth it."

"I love you, Simon!" You uttered those words as you slipped into cardiac arrest sprawling at the same spot. It was like your heart was squeezed, and you couldn't even say it.

He remembered the way you declared your love, your voice barely a whisper. He remembered the way his heart felt as if it was being squeezed in a vice. He remembered the way he turned away, unable to bear the sight of you so vulnerable and broken.

"I don't love you."

"Simon!" You whispered his name, trying to reach out to touch his gloved hand.

He remembered the way you tried to reach out to him, your hand trembling with the effort. He remembered the way he pulled his hand away, the cold metal of his gauntlets pressing against your fingers as he left you to your fate.

His phone buzzed with Laswell's number, revealing your innocence. Saying that it was a mistake, saying that you weren't a traitor.

He remembered the way he stared at the screen, disbelief written across his face. He remembered the way he sank to his knees, his head in his hands, as he realized what he had done.

"No...".

"Simon!" You gasped his name as you tried to breathe, but it was too late. Your trust was already broken. Your heart couldn't take it anymore.

He remembered the way you gasped his name, the way your voice faded away as your life slipped through his fingers. He remembered the way he crawled to you, lifting your head into his lap, his tears falling onto your face.

"Please...please, no..." he begged.

He remembered the way your breath hitched, the way your lips parted, his name spilling out in a desperate plea. He remembered the way your eyes met his, the life fading out of them. He remembered the way you whispered the words that had shattered him.

"I love you..."

He took your last hiccup into his mouth as his lips met yours in a kiss that tried to stop you from leaving the world.

"The soul to my soul."

Your eyes turned to stone.

He remembered the way your body went limp, the life draining out of you. He remembered the way he screamed, his grief echoing through the empty room. He remembered the way he gathered you into his arms, rocking you like a child, his tears falling onto your still face. "No..."

He remembered every detail, every moment, every whispered promise. He remembered the way you looked at him, the way you smiled, the way your heart beat for him alone. And he remembered the way it all ended, the way you left him behind, your hand cold in his, your eyes empty.

Another girl succumbed to his darkness.

He will always remember..

[salt-and-a-dash-of-pepper]

My Favorite Moments in God of War: Ragnarok

[Inspired by my favorite moments in God of War 2018]

Spoilers

- Watching Atreus slowly break through the fog with a fresh kill that he hunted himself, a head or so taller than we’d last see him, and clearly much more confident in himself. 

- Atreus and Kratos’s immediate display of affection for each other, in stark contrast to the previous game, with Kratos gripping his son’s shoulder in acknowledgement and Atreus smiling to his father.

- Mimir “sitting” inside of the house, on a pillow with a candle next to him and a book to read and a nice pipe to smoke. He clearly has become part of the family.

- The fear in Kratos’s voice when he searches for Atreus’s after Fenrir’s death

- OH FUCK A HUGE BEAR

- OH SHIT THIS HUGE BEAR IS ACTUALLY BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF KRATOS. HOW CAN A BEAR GO TOE-TO-TOE WITH KRATOS

- OH F U C K IT’S ATREUS

- Kratos shouting Atreus’s name as he lies limp in the snow and you see, for just a moment, Kratos wondering if he has once again killed his own child with his own hands.

- Thor just casually stopping by their house and pouring them some mead

- The way Thor just launches Kratos, just like his brother did in the game before

- The way the ground crackles like thunder when Thor slams his foot down

- Thor shocking Kratos back to consciousness to continue the fight

- The frozen lightning bolt that stays for the rest of the game

- Sindri and Atreus being besties

- Tyr finally standing straight once Kratos snaps some sense into him and he’s towering over everyone 

- Atreus constantly messing up when he’s trying to bond with Angrboda

- Atreus TURNING INTO A WOLF

- Thrúd

- Just all of Thrúd

- “What do I call you?”

- Atreus running into Kratos’s arms and staying there, holding tight, face buried in his dad’s chest even when Kratos lets go

- Kratos’s gentle “What has happened?”

- Kratos standing up for his son when all of the other companions tell him how much of a massive fuck up it was to release Garm

- Fenrir, now resurrected in Garm, and his floppy wittle ears

- “I am sorry.”

- “Do not be sorry. Be better.”

- The bar fight back in Asgard

- Thor actually listening to Atreus and being affected by it. The visible shame Thor felt. Atreus’s honest desire to help.

- Ingrid saving Atreus

- “Which way are we headed?”

- “In the direction of deer.”

- Sindri’s entire character arc, starting from a loveable comic relief character to a bitter, vengeful brother in mourning, unrelenting in his rage towards Atreus and Kratos

- “I AM RAGNAROK.”

-  Thrúd and Atreus making back up in Asgard during Ragnarok

- Atreus pushing his father out of the way during the blast in a final attempt to save him from his prophesized death

- “Does it scare you?”

- “Yes.”

- “That is why you must do it.”

- The HUG 

- Kratos finally crying openly when he sees what his wife painted for him at the back of the mural

[hesgomorrah]

Trapper John, M.D. Masterpost

TL;DR, Trapper John, M.D. is a criminally underrated M*A*S*H spin-off that I'd love to see given a shot at redemption. Links to watch it are under the cut.

Since I've been talking about this show a lot recently, I thought it would probably be a good idea to make it easier to find, since it's fairly obscure nowadays.

If you've never heard of it, I don't blame you. TJMD is a M*A*S*H spin-off that ran from 1979 to 1986, with a contemporary setting and generally more dramatic tone but the same irreverent sense of humor and at times surprisingly progressive writing as its predecessor. It follows Trapper John McIntyre thirty-ish years after the Korean War, contending with medical mysteries and changing times as Chief Surgeon of a major hospital in San Francisco.

The series has few direct references to the events of M*A*S*H (in any of its previous forms), but it features a compelling ensemble cast of original characters that take many tropes M*A*S*H fans will be familiar with in new directions. Especially if you enjoyed the first three seasons of M*A*S*H, I highly recommend giving at least a handful of episodes a shot. The quality of said episodes varies wildly, but there are some true gems in there. (IMDb and Wikipedia links for more information!)

The only catch is, to date, the series has never been officially released to home media or any streaming platform, and I haven't found any evidence that it's still in syndication, so it's not the easiest show to track down. Luckily, all 151 episodes were recorded by dedicated fans, so the series is watchable in (very nearly) its entirety if you know where to look. I did the looking so you don't have to!

This Google Drive contains every episode of the series (with the exceptions listed below) in standard definition, plus my work-in-progress episode guide, highlighting episodes that are relevant to longer story arcs and offering a non-exhaustive list of content warnings for especially heavy episodes. (I'm looking for another place to host them but Google is the platform I'm most familiar with.)

Episodes 1x01 through 3x02 can be found in better quality here, remastered by a fan by combining footage from separate English- and German-language recordings of the series. It occasionally lapses into German audio with English subtitles as the German dub contains some scenes for which the corresponding English audio has been lost. Here is an alternate YouTube link with lower video quality but exclusively English audio, containing roughly 2/3 of the episodes.

If you speak German, you can find that dub here with slightly cleaner visuals.

If you prefer to torrent, you can find those here:

Season 1

Season 2

Season 3

Season 4 (the second half of 4x20 is corrupted, repeating the same ~2 minutes of footage for the rest of the duration)

Season 5 (5x11 is missing roughly the last 10 minutes of the episode)

Season 6 (the video is frozen for most of 6x23 but the audio is fully intact)

Season 7

[clonemando]

Fluff for Fox/Fives please? Or even Fox/Fives/Rex. They deserve a happier ending to their encounter 🥲

Fox/Fives!!! Yes! With Rex too. I can do that! I love them. Fives and Fox enable each other but Rex helps keep them from going too far. A good group. Thank you for the prompt and enjoy!

Rex was frozen as he stood in the doorway, a stolen bag of Fox's favorite chocolate covered berries under one arm with a berry half way to his mouth. He was dressed in an oversized blue hoodie with his signature Jaig eyes painted in white and a pair of bright red boxers he had stolen from Fox's closet.

"What the kriff did I walk in on?" He asked and Fox growled lowly in frustration although he didn't look up from his task.

"Your ARC-" he started but Rex cut him off with a noise of complaint.

"Why is he suddenly my ARC when he pisses you off? We agreed that on Taungsday he's the Guard's idiot." He said and finally popped the berry into his mouth and finished entering the room.

Fox was sitting on the couch with Fives positioned between his legs on the floor and a hair brush to his side. Half of Fives' head was arranged in what Rex might have called a high Nabooian style if he was being kind but was honestly just a lot of rubber bands and knots. The other side was twisted into many different braids. Fives was just staring ahead looking resigned to whatever was going on.

"Fine, my idiot ARC let a bunch of cadets use him as a doll and I'm trying to undo the damage without just shaving it all off." Fox finally looked over as Rex flopped on the couch beside him and offered Fox a berry which he took distractedly and ate with a little pleased hum.

"Thorn said they were good at it! I'm going to put green dye in his shampoo." Fives whined.

"You didn't realize Thorn lies like 80% of the time after he convinced you to eat that soap bar shaped like a piece of pie?" Rex asked raising an eyebrow as he stretched out and shoved his feet into Fox's lap so his boyfriend had to lean over them to look at Fives' head.

"It honestly didn't taste that bad." Fives said holding out a hand for a berry as well and Rex rolled his eyes but gave it to him.

The peace that filled Rex as he laid there with Fox slowly unknotting Fives' hair while Fives chattered about his ongoing feud with Thorn had him melting into the worn cushions. There had been several points in the war he had almost given up. Little moments like this made him grateful he kept fighting.

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

The Talk

Warnings - final arc spoilers, I woke up and chose violence ya'll

If the earth could swallow a person whole and make it so they never existed you wished that to happen to yourself. Your husband of two years sat next to you, the gentle giant of a man sat stoic as he spoke words that made you feel like you were going to die.

“We do not know who will make it out but we know it has to end here, if Muzan manages to get ahold of the Kamado girl its over. We have to end it now, everyone” You were listening, putting the pieces in place for this plan that the master had though of for the demon slayer corps. As far as you knew it was Gyomei, Tengen, Shinjuro, and now you who was aware of the plan. First they would make it easier for Muzan to find Ubuyashiki, then blow up everything and then? Fight to the death, humanity or demons. All three of the men in your house would leave and fight a war you didn’t even know how to end, with no guarantee to come back. Gyomei was growing increasingly restless as you sat in silence, mulling over the situation. Gyomei and Muichiro were hashira, they don’t have a choice to participate, but Genya? He has a gun, what is he going to do? He has a gun and breathing problems! You can’t let him go. You’ll chain him up, that will stop him. They can’t make him fight if they can’t find him. Maybe you should visit Sanemi, convince him to get his brother kicked out of the corps. It’s a low blow and it will take a long time to emotionally recover from but he’ll be fine, he’ll be home and in the off chance Gyomei and Muichiro don’t make it back you have him. No, you needed them all. Who would you be if they didn’t all come back? A widow who is also childless? They weren’t really yours though, were they? Every thought hurt more than the next, no outcome made this okay, no thought made it so they came home to you.

“Gyomei” you turned to face your husband, his stoic body almost frozen next to you as he looked out into the yard. “Gyomei, I need you all to come home.” He let out a small breath, quick and unsure like he had been holding it until now. “Gyomei, you must promise me you and the boys will come home.” He finally turned towards you, blank eyes almost searching. His mouth opened before closing again. “Gyomei, Promise”

“I can’t” His words were strained and you felt tears building up, matching the ones that lined his own eyes.

“Gyomei, please” His hand found purchase on your lap, palm up so you could place yours in it. You dragged his limp hand to your lips, placing a gentle kiss along his worn knuckles. “Please Mei, you have to come home to me” He was quiet this time, letting your tears wet his knuckles as you heald his fist up. “Atleast make sure you all come home, make sure they come back Mei. Whatever happens they need to come home, all of you need to come home”