#so he emulated that without thinking twice

[primordialmurder]

I just have this image of this young boy, looking towards his father like he's a titan. He's so tall, so grand and so unreachable. His memory is probably extremely fuzzy of him too since it's been thousands of years since he'd last seen him.

I think he still holds him in high regard, but it's more akin to devoting oneself to the memory of a legend than a father figure. The feeling of looking up to him as an infant is probably the strongest memory he has of Adam, and that's not much to go off of. I don't even think he remembers his face... Just some recognizable blobs shadowed by the sunset.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Talk Too Much

Pairing: Remus Lupin x loud but shy!reader

Cw: college!au, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, obliviousness by Remus for a while, drinking (mentioned), smoking (cigarettes), I think that’s it

Wc: 2.2k

You’re a loudmouth. Through and through. Of all your friends, you honestly think you and James would be the ones to never shut up or run out of words.

That is until Remus transfers into the school and infiltrates your friend group and suddenly you find the words can run out.

It’s not on purpose.

It seems to take you over purely by coincidence- the way your throat gets dry and your tongue seems too heavy to form the words you want to get out when Remus seems to be paying attention to only you. His gaze isn’t unwelcome- that’s the entire problem.

You like the feeling of being what he looks at, but it feels too good, too natural.

His honey eyes that are just lightly flecked with green, and his sharp jawline that’s adorned with silvery scar tissue that somehow makes him even more handsome.

He’s also always got a cigarette to fiddle with.

You’ve only seen him smoke twice, and had been mesmerised by the way his cheeks hollow and how he blows the smoke out and it seems to curl around him like it’s unable to obey his exhales in the opposite direction.

He reminds you in a way of Charlie Dalton and Stephen Meeks.

Fctional characters who Remus seems to emulate in his confidence (from Charlie) and a sort of confidence that’s self-assured yet mild at the same time (a mix of the two) and that in itself makes you fall a little more for him.

It’s overwhelming- this attraction to him. It confuses you and has you tripping over words in your head, far less for if you voiced them and all that was heard were clunky excuses for sentences.

What makes your sudden bouts of silence obvious is the fact that your friends have caught onto you.

It’s not like it’s exceptionally hard to decipher either- you’re not really good at being subtle.

You suspect James and Sirius are taking bets on when it’ll all be too obvious for everyone to walk around it and you desperately hope that it takes months while simultaneously hoping it takes only weeks.

Remus notices the way your body freezes when you realise you’ve caught his attention in your storytelling. In his mind, it’s because you don’t like him.

The way you shrink down and suddenly go silent the moment his eyes set upon you, the way you remain quiet even though he sees the way the corners of your mouth twitch with something to say.

He thinks he’s put you off somehow, especially when the second he’s gone a little ways away to get a drink or get his lunch, you seem to perk right back up and dive into storytelling once more.

It bothers him so much he asks Sirius about it- a mistake in itself, because Sirius only pokes fun at his friend.

“If you can’t realise why she goes silent the moment you stare at her Lupin, I can’t help you.” Sirius walks off leaving Remus even more perplexed, moreso when he hears Sirius says, “How’s he so thick for someone doing so many higher classes?”

It bewilders Remus for weeks, your always sudden vows of silence and then your equally sudden broken vows.

You’re all at a house party when it comes to an almost end.

You’re dressed pretty like always, a skirt that hugs all the places Remus longs to touch and a top that shows a sliver of your stomach and Remus catches a glimpse of jewellery hanging in your navel.

Your ears have a pair of hanging bat earrings, and your necklace is your standard one- he’s sure he’s never seen you without it.

You’re smiling and laughing with Marlene and Mary as you walk in. Remus wants to figure out why you dislike him so, he desperately wants to change your sour opinion of him. He’s going to at least try to do so tonight, if you can stomach looking at him.

“C’mon losers,” James’ loud voice is unmistakable, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”

Remus is only approaching when he hears your teasing,

“Are we taking a blast back to Year 9 Jamie?”

James nods, “Yeah we are, and would you look at that you and Lupin are up first.” You’re sure there’s an evil little grin on James’ face when you look up and find Remus standing there in his soft brown sweater and jeans.

You can smell a little of the cigarette he’d smoked before coming in, but mostly you smell his citrus, pepper and amber cologne.

It’s heady and you swear your brain gets a little drunk on it.

“Get going you two,” Sirius teases and you sigh standing.

Remus’ mind is reeling, wondering how he’s going to get back at Sirius and James and the rest of your friends that he knows are in on this too.

Out of ear shot of your friends as you both go to the nearest room, Remus says lowly, “You don’t have to come in. I’ll just tell them we talked.”

You look up at him, eyes wide and Remus takes your surprise as a moment to admire you up close. He counts three beauty marks near your right eye, another on your neck just under your chin, and one on your nose. He’s distracted by you for a good long while that he doesn’t register you’ve spoken till he sees you walk into the room and gesture for him to follow.

It’s tense, a silence neither of you are sure how to break.

You think Remus is the most gorgeous man to be placed on the Earth, and Remus thinks you find him repulsive.

You watch Remus climb onto the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as his back presses against the headboard.

His casualness makes him look even more attractive and while you’re aware that you’re staring at him, you can’t make yourself stop.

‘Now or never,’ he thinks to himself before asking, “Have I offended you somehow?”

There it is, laid open and bare. The question hangs in the air, like the most tantalising yet foreign fruit you’ve ever seen.

“No?” It comes out like a question. One Remus takes as a chance to explain.

“It’s just that you’re always talking or telling a story with the others, and as soon as I’m near earshot you go silent and you can’t meet my eyes. So I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ve offended you, and I just wanted to say sorry for if I did- directly or indirectly.”

Remus’ attractiveness has been upped by a thousand- you’re sure all the love deities are having a laugh at your hopelessness.

You can’t meet his eyes now, even as you sit on the bed, so close to him that your biceps brush each other’s. “You haven’t offended me.”

Your voice is much softer than he’s ever heard it. Remus thinks this must be the softest you’ve ever spoken in your whole life.

“I haven’t?” he asks and you shake your head. Hazarding a glance at him, you find Remus leaning his shoulder down, his chin tucked as his eyes roam your frame.

“N-no,” your stutter gives you away slowly. “You’re just different from the others.” It’s not a clearer explanation, but the gears are turning in Remus’ head all the same and you can tell.

“Different how?” Remus doesn’t want to assume anything and that’s what causes the gears to come to a screeching halt.

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Remus has never seen you this unsure. Everything you do is with confidence and ease, like you were just made to walk, talk and move the way that you do. Like it was as easy as breathing.

Maybe it’s the way you take your time to consider your words, or the way you fiddle with your clothes or even the way your breathing changes as he leans just a bit closer that makes Remus smile a little.

“Will you look at me for a second, darling gwerthfawr?” The softness of his tone and the way his accent changes to something a little more melodic makes you more jelly-like than you usually are in his presence.

“Hm?” you hum and Remus smirks. Silvery slithers of scar tissue moving with his mouth and making him look wicked in a way that has you falling a little more in love with him.

“Why don’t you like looking or speaking to me?”

Remus doesn’t let you turn away, doesn’t let you tuck your cheek to your shoulder as you deliberate what you want to say. No, instead, the menace holds your chin and stares at you, holding your gaze and making your brain cloud even more as his cologne and attention wash over you.

“I like looking at you,” you admit shyly, the confession coming from your lips with hesitation. Like Remus will be repulsed by the fact that you like looking at him. “But you make me nervous.”

The words are suspended in the quiet of the room. All there is the muffled sounds of the party going on in the living room, and then yours and Remus’ breathing.

“I make you nervous?”

Sirius and James burst through the door, wide smiles that turn into shocked smirks at your positions.

“Well love birds, sorry but your seven minutes are up.” Remus staggers in letting your chin go, but when his fingers slacken, you leave the room, belly in knots in the almost wordy confession.

“So, how’d that go?” James asks him as you bend the corner- he’s sure that Lily and the other girls will be doing the same with you.

Remus flops on the bed, “Nothing that concerns you two gits.” His mind is racing with possibilities of finishing this conversation.

Sirius boos, “After all that planning to get you two in here and snogging each other’s faces off, that’s the thanks we get?” Walking out with James who’s shaking his head.

-

“But you make me nervous,” repeats in his head for days. He’s not dense by a mile, but Remus has a hard time figuring out what about him makes you nervous.

Sure he’s tall and a little serious, but he’s not as intimidating as he’d first thought Sirius was. Remus doesn’t want to turn to his friends, sure they’d tease him endlessly for being ‘thick,’ and then more than likely tell you and that would just make you even more nervous to look or speak to him at the very least.

What Remus does do, is consult the best person he knows that will give him impartial advice; books.

There’s always a book for any occasion, so he delves deep. Behavioural analysis books, books on people with social anxiety (which he doesn’t think you have because it’s just him that gets the selective mutism) and even at the end of it, he turns to romance novels. Something must stand out.

It comes to a head when Remus comes to the library when you’re busy typing away at your essay. You feel the presence, the warmth of his pepper and amber cologne as he pulls the seat out beside you.

Remus doesn’t say a word as he sits down. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and begins typing at the same essay prompt you’re working on.

You’re hyper aware of everything he’s doing- every breath, every sigh, every harsh backspace and enter.

Remus doesn’t seem to be half as affected as you are and it has you whispering, “What are you doing here, Remus?”

He hums, tapping his forefinger near the touchpad. He finishes his sentence and then turns to you. “Working on that essay due tomorrow.”

You frown, lips pulled downwards as you think of your next words. “You know what I mean, why are you sitting beside me?”

Remus sighs, head hanging off the back of the chair. “I want you to not be nervous around me anymore. I also want to know why I make you nervous.”

You swallow, mouth suddenly dry.

Remus turns to look at you and the amber lighting of the library makes his skin look sunkissed and supple. His honey and sage eyes blink owlishly at you, no sign of rushing you along for an answer.

That was something you had learnt while silently watching Remus. He’s always actually listening- not just listening to respond.

“Because,” you start, eyes darting all over his face in search of any insecurity in it. “You always seem so hyper focused on what it is I’m going to say next and it flusters me.”

Remus’ face morphs into a smile, his lazy expression from before melting away as his eyes warm to your embarrassed whisper.

“So it’s not dislike?” He asks, hands itching to tip your chin up like he had the other night.

“Are you going to make me say it out loud?”

“Poor girl,” he feels much more confident now. Now that he knows for sure that you don’t hate him and that you might actually like him as much as he likes you, he can be a little more flirty.

His hand reaches for your wrist, thumb running back and forth around your pulse.

You scowl, more than a little bashful to have exposed your feelings to Remus. He doesn’t mind.

No, Remus feels over the moon. Enough so that his hand moves from your wrist and his forefinger hooks under your chin so you’re making eye contact again.

“I like you too. Just as much,” it’s his turn for a whispered confession and you hope to all hell that he can’t feel the thundering of your pulse. “Maybe more.”

You feel your body buzz under his attention. Remus leans in closer, “Let me take you out after this? We can go somewhere quiet and have a proper ‘first’ conversation.”

[citrus-writing]

yandere feitan- closer to you

(You and Feitan share books, and through those books, discover a bit more about each other.)

-------------------

He never has anything to say to you, his voice is a rare sound, and it almost always is followed by something terrible, be it pain or simply the smile that sends a shiver through you. But he does press you to talk sometimes, he doesn't like you keeping things from him, and despite how distant he is, listening to you talk is one of the only things you can do that he seems to like. So talk about anything, even as his gaze tears through you, even when you start to shake under the terror of knowing any word could be your last. Sometimes you can barely choke out the words while you struggle to hold back tears. What could you even say? 

You talk about your day- locked in the house, there isn't much to do- but you go through the mundane details anyways; you made your bed, you scrubbed the floors, read some of the book he gave you. His gaze grows more intense, and you know by now to keep talking. You try to find good things about the book- you try not to mention the fact that you’d been forced to put the book down when the words had made you nearly sick with terror and disgust at its contents. But you know he seems to like books, he reads all the time, and you’ve seen him read this one once or twice. It’s stupid to wonder, and you’d never ask, but your mind swirls with the possibility that it’s his favorite. And he’d loaned it to you. The thought is horrible, but you force yourself to keep talking. 

You ramble about others books you’ve read, you try to mention ones that are similar, but nothing you’ve ever read is anywhere close to being similar. You talk about themes and genres you like, messages that had really resonated with you, characters you’d really related to. By the time he allows you to stop talking you feel like you’ve said a hundred thousand things wrong, and that he’s going to be mad about something, and you can almost feel the phantom sensation of pain even though he hasn't even moved closer to you. Instead, he allows you to go about your day without another word. 

It’s a little over two months later when you see new books on your little bookshelf, a series you’ve read before, one you know you mentioned to him during your horrified rambling. The books are pristine and they still have that pleasant new book smell. You wonder if it’s a gift, if you’ve done something good enough to warrant something like this? You can't think of anything, and that makes you anxious, but the pleasant memories of the series and who you were when you first read it flood through you and you're grateful. 

((if you mention the books to him, he hits you so hard you collapse, and the door to your room is slammed and locked, and stays locked for days. No light, no food, and he’s not opening the door no matter how much you cry and beg and plead. When he does open the door again, it’s best that you act grateful to see him and dont bring up the books again.)) 

Any book you mention he makes a point to read; it’s hard for him to talk to you, and it’s not like you’re eager to spend time with him, but reading these stories that you hold so dear makes him feel connected to you in a way that is pleasant and satisfying and most importantly completely unknown to you. It allows him to gaze into your life without allowing you to gaze back into his. If you mention a romance novel, he reads it and wonders if a romance with you would be like that- maybe, if you love the story so much, it’s because that’s the kind of romance you want for yourself. He does nothing to attempt to emulate the romance in the story, but it’s nice to know this about you.

[shivunin]

A kiss along the collar bone - For Lenore Ingellvar <3

Thank you very much for asking! <3 (from this list)

Factual Inaccuracies

(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis Dellamorte | 443 Words | CW: Brief references to poison)

“—and among the bouquet rested a horrible secret, for the petals had been washed in a poison called Silent Death—”

“Did Viago write this? Check the author again,” Lucanis murmured against Rook’s chest. She went on, laughter suffusing the words. Lucanis let his eyes drift half-closed, the better to hear her voice without the distraction of her bare skin.

“—which would surely kill the gentle maiden should she take even a single breath of their sweet scent.”

“Ineffective. Too much collateral damage. Do they think that the maids do not smell flowers when they deliver them to their mistress’s chambers? The flowers would never make it upstairs. A distraction, perhaps, but a kill? No.” 

“Maids plug their noses whenever flowers are near, didn’t you know?” she asked, still laughing. 

When Rook laughed, he could feel the hum of it in her chest, felt his head shift with the motion of her ribs. He turned his head and kissed her twice, feeling warm skin and hard bone beneath his lips. He kissed the dark line of her tattoo stretching over the collarbone, kissed the hollow between that line and her neck. She pressed her lips to his forehead in kind, resting there for several long seconds before leaning back again. 

“Would you like me to skip this bit?” Lenore asked, lifting the book again. “We can pretend the flowers were slipped into her private chambers with an anonymous note or something.”

Lucanis snorted, shifting against her. Rook preferred to sleep wound in long lengths of fabric, as if in emulation of the undead that lived below. More often than not, he found himself kicking the blankets and sheets away when he rested in her bed. He did so now, and covered her leg with his own so she would not feel the chill. 

Spite, who’d been reduced to a not-unpleasant hum in the back of his mind while she read, stirred. Lucanis spoke before Spite could, for he knew by now precisely what the demon would ask for.

“Go on,” he said. “Let’s hear it all, however absurd.”

“Alright,” Rook laughed, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Where was I? Oh—here we are. ‘—should she take even a single breath of their sweet scent. On the day the flowers arrived…’”

Later, he would recall little of the book except its inaccuracies. The story itself mattered less to him than the steady beat of her heart under his ear, the warmth in her voice as she read, the occasional laughter that jostled him from his place at her shoulder. Lucanis let his eyes close again, sinking into her voice and the comfort of her presence.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Within the writing themes of Spiderverse and on a meta level(which counts as one),Ghostpunk makes more sense than than Ghost.Flower.Important note:I'm not anti G/M,this is simple my meta on why Hobie and Gwen work so well

Gwen went to visit Miles but she thought to put on Hobie's sweater first and he lets her add her own customization to it as seen by the patches on it that were confirmed to be hers and not his.Gwen steals Hobie's clothes as a way to make herself feel safe and even took his chucks too to emulate his style.She did steal Miles' jacket but only way after she did that with Hobie's clothes at multiple points

Miles accidentally forced Gwen to get a haircut and Gwen chose to dye it part pink,the color Hobie turns when he's happiest,notably only after she met Hobie and it brings to mind she wanted to always have something on her that reminds her of Hobie

In the comics,Hobie was a Gwen Stacy fanboy and Gwen was that cool slightly older girl it'd easy for most boys to get a crush on.In the movies,Gwen looks up to Hobie and he's that cool slightly older boy it's easy for most girls to get a crush on.And also in the comics,Gwen owns a The Ramones shirt and Hobie is a The Ramones fan too as seen by his playlist.They're the same......in the important ways

We see Gwen yapping about Hobie first thing as his drop in the movie,to Miles and when he inquires if he's her friend like he is,she replies 'That's different!' and i say oh i'm sure!!!There's hint drops that indicate Gwen might've talked to Spider Society about Miles often but we don't get to actually see it happen like we did Ghostpunk's part so it's hard to believe the former is romantic and completely textual but the latter isn't

Following up that point,Pavitr states in a teasing tone Miles wouldn't know about Hobie from Gwen twice and the implication is obviously that Ghostpunk is romantic in some way and if it's not Gwobie evidence,then 'He must be in love with you!' isn't Gw.iles evidence either as Gwen denied both anyway

Hobie was never trying to make Miles jealous with his way of flirting with Gwen and was made so he could be taken as genuienly crushing on her confirmed by his VA.Hobie also already saved Gwen before Miles did,by letting her crash in his dimension when she was homeless and convincing her to join his band so she could feel like when she was back then before Peter died and giving her the emotional support and fun she needed as she did him by helping him like a real kid post-adultification and even crafted a Watch for her when she needed to save Miles but not before destroying her cop dad's ass and not without forcing him to leave her his love note.The specific 'In case it don't work out' wording used inline with the attempt at a Ghostpunk + Ghost.Flower love triangle reads as a double meaning and in-universe subliminal messaging that's absolutely in-character for Hobie to pull(he pulled Gwen already too)

Self-Love suits Ghostpunk directly rather than mostly just metaphors.Drink too much,think too much,thoughts drownin' me(havin' a laugh at a pub with the mandem),you don't know love you just show love stop doubtin' me(fitting to both Gwen and Hobie's canonical traumas and their coping mechanisms,including them not becoming official purely because their insecurities had them thinking the other could would never love them romantically,at least at first),cuff me told the truth to him he don't trust me(George and Hobie's interaction),hate to see yeah woah money scheme yeah woah(it's a metaphor for capitalism),live and questionable(i'm not a role model + him encouraging her to punk out to her full self with George no longer holding her back),love hanging out say you hate it now(Gwen's Hobie love denials she only used so Pavitr would shut up and never holding back when it's just her and him)

Gwen is pastel watercolors and Hobie is an old school zine but they're both basically human mood rings.They both had scenes of teaching Miles how to use his hands to better Spiderman and standing up against an authority figure as they turned a blue as deep as how much their rage towards the system for screwing them over runs

In every other universe,Hobie Brown is a bad guy or not that important.But in this universe,Hobie Brown isn't actually evil,he's just a good kid who's really troubled because all the adults in his life are either gone or failed him on purpose and despite everything,he rose to be the personification of afropunk and Earth 138's Spiderhero.In his universe,Gwen Stacy is still a ghost and she dosen't haunt him since she wasn't his Gwen.His Gwen wasn't a canon event for him and that plays up his not believing in consitency

And Gwen feeling so comfortable around Hobie she's not afraid to fall for him is proof they should be together,not proof she dosen't love him.How deep their connection goes is up them(direct quote by Daniel Kaluuya,Hobie's va)not canon and that's what Gwen wants.She chose Hobie this whole time

I be writing heartfelt academic papers and and then this is the ship

[sophiacloud28]

The Many Faces of the Face Man Part 2

Ooooooh, @marchaprilmayhem, you have no idea what you've just hit upon. You have no idea what can of worms you've just opened.

Before addressing any of this, I would like to say that Donnie, Mikey, and Raph have their own things. They all have their own specialty, a way to provide that is uniquely theirs.

Donnie is the genius. The utilitarian. The biggest provider to the point that if you take him out, they don't have a home. As stated here, Donatello was working at a very, very young age, to the point that it's how he defines himself. Hell, the fact that he feels comfortable to do this:

Says a lot about his character and the relationship they have with their dad.

Raph is the leader in this iteration along with the muscle. He's the defender, the protector, the older brother. He's the actual father and he's trying his best.

Mikey, on the other hand, is the artist, the cook. He's the one who feeds them all. You can't tell me that this isn't an indication of what Mikey does all while being silly.

My point? They're all useful. Specialized. No matter how little they think of themselves (especially Donnie with the fact that he might render himself obsolete with his machinery or that mystic powers might make his tech, therefore him useless, but that'll be a talk for another time.)

So where does that put Leo? Leo who is not a specialist, but a jack of all trades that can never outshine his brothers in any of their specialties?

NOWHERE.

Look at the Rise series again and ask yourself this question. When does Leo ever have anything for himself? When does the boy in blue ever have anything going for him? Lou Jitsu? That's a family thing, his dad's thing that he wants so badly to emulate because he wants to belong. Jupiter Jim? Not even. He might be the biggest fan in his family, but it's still something he shares. The only thing that's all his is magic and illusion and his family, Raph specifically, ridicules him twice in the same episode.

RAPH: *Takes ticket from Leo's hand* "I never seen Leo this excited for a book so it must be something, or it would be stupid so we can make fun of him. Either way, Win-Win! Let's get ready."

-xxx-

RAPH: "Alright, let's return those journals. You got 'em, right Leo?"

LEO: "Yes, right already returned them safe and sound in the vault, let's go home."

RAPH: "Leo...what are you doing?"

LEO: "I wasn't gonna read them, I just wanna keep’ em, and maybe snuggle them a little bit."

-xxx-

Leo has nothing going for him. He is useless. His specialty in strategizing? It provides nothing. No matter how much time he passes honing it, it's not directly useful, so he can't do anything. (I am not counting the fact that so many people, including myself, view Leo as the medic of the team.) So what does he do? He keeps quiet. He sometimes interjects with responsible thoughts (The blinds line coming from Leo of all people has significance, not to mention this:

LEO: "Any votes for staying home during the anti-mutant Panic? No? Okay, let's go!"

So, what's left? The cocky mess we see and something that I think gets forgotten all too easily.

Leo doesn't just hype his brothers up. He knows them. Inside and, if you want to take the medic approach, out. He is the best in position to take the lead and make sure his family always gets home safe.

But he is so undervalued, so underplayed that when he is finally given that ounce of recognition...

He panics.

Splinter recognizes Leo's potential? Yes. But, at this point, Leo has long accepted he isn't worth anything. The recognition comes far too late and Leo doesn't want the responsibility without realizing that he already has partially shouldered it through years of learning how to read his brothers and knowing how they behave to best hype them up. I would even dare to say that Leo is the one who values his family the most, if only because he knows what being undervalued feels like.

In short? Yes, Leo has learned to make his mind work that fast. He had to. Else he would have left a long, long time ago.

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[dhmis-autism]

what do you think duck’s stance on love is?

Long story short, I think his perspective on it is insanely warped.

Short story long, I think he really really wants to love the other two, but is so insanely clueless on how to. I think my good friend Bear worded it once as “I don't think he's capable of providing much but he is absolutely going to force the others to let him try.”

I think that’s very apt.

But okay! Let’s get into it!

First things first we need to establish about my favorite little guy in the universe is that love is something that’s very important to him. He is the only one of the three who mentions love outside of it’s allotted episode. Once in the interview,

And twice in his song in family (which trust me we will GET TO)

It’s something that he obviously thinks about and is obviously important to him. I think if you want to get real nitty gritty you can even pick apart his individual lines in the Family song and see through his first line I’ve highlighted here as a definite facade, because in the second highlighted line he goes right back into what we got established about him in the (debatably canon) interview which is that not only does he want to love, but he wants that love to be reciprocated. To love and be loved in turn. Pretty easy goal right? Most people have that.

It’s how he goes about attaining this goal that I think makes him totally balls to the wall nuts. And to talk about how he attains this goal we NEED to talk about:

His Relationship with the Other Main Guys Around.

Now, if you read and really listen to what I have to say about this guy, you will often hear me saying that he makes a lot of assumptions and especially in regards to feelings. I have touched on it previously in this post. And with all things I say, I don’t say this without reason + evidence.

I think he does this fun little horrible thing where he assumes that HOWEVER he feels about the other two is the way they feel about him. Unquestionably reciprocated. I think this because of two scenes in particular, the Best Friend Debate at his funeral and his insistence that they are a family in Family.

Now, let’s break down these two scenes and I’ll highlight the bits I think are the most important to my point.

BFD (Best Friend Debate) is a classic, everyone knows it by heart, but the point I want to focus on here is these few lines-

Here we see Duck make an assumption about the nature of his relationship with Red Guy, namely, that it’s much closer than it actually is. Duck feels that they’re best friends, so surely the other party MUST feel the same way. When RG pushes back against this assumption and doesn’t respond the way Duck would like, instead of backing down or trying to realize that maybe he was mistaken, Duck pushes it further.

It does not matter if Red Guy doesn’t think they’re best friends. Duck thinks they are and so that is the truth. In his crazy little head, at least. Anyways, pay attention to this next bit, because it’ll crop up again, RG pushes further, emphasizing that he DOES NOT feel the same way and instead of accepting it…

Duck digs his heels in further and starts coming up with reasons. Here being, well you have to be my best friend, I’m leaving you my things, I wouldn’t do that if we weren’t close!

It is a little bit pathetic. And it gets pathetic-er!

Onto the scene in Family. It runs pretty similarly! Duck makes an assumption about his relationship with the other two, in this episode, it’s that they are a family.

The other parties involved in this assumption reject it. His immediate response to ‘No we aren’t.’ is “Yes we are!”.

Then he begins his reasoning….

And it goes on.

For the rest of the episode.

Just near-constant trying to justify his assumption and give reasons why they ARE  a family and fit Lily and Todneys weird criteria (most notably trying desperately to emulate the Family Meeting) , no matter what the other two had to say. And he continues this weird bargaining (that is NOT working btw) until he is forcibly,physically removed from the other two.

That is the ONLY thing that gets him to stop. And even then all he does after is just sing his sad little song that just keeps emphasizing scenes of him with the other two, where the other two just fade away and he’s alone.

So! To establish what we know so far:

Duck wants to love and be loved in return.

Duck assumes the other two love him the same way he loves them.

When the other two object, or say they don’t, his immediate response is they they do, actually!

When that doesn’t work, he starts looking for evidence/justifications for why the other two are wrong.

WHICH IS A HORRIBLE CRAZY TWISTED VIEW ON LOVE. Like you cannot just ‘yuh huh’ someone into feeling the same way about you that you feel about them. You cannot just force these square pegs into these triangle holes!!

And all that’s not even GETTING into how weirdly obsessed he is with the other two, how I think that fuels his relationship with the house/their world and the weird complacency that plays into that.

The first point btw, I have touched on before! On these posts! ( https://dhmis-autism.tumblr.com/post/727102688807043072/my-headcannon-is-that-duck-has-been-in-a-state-of , https://dhmis-autism.tumblr.com/post/726233248232079360/i-feel-like-the-original-series-was-red-guy )

But for now!! That’s a rough intro to how fucked up I think this birds perspective is! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

[desolationcleo]

i've posted about this elsewhere but pearl's relationship with the watchers in the life series is an endless source of fascination to me

like there is So Much going on here and she's just oblivious to it

For one thing, she was on Evo but didn't show up in the death games until Last Life, the second one. The implications hit me like a truck over a year ago and ever since then, not a day goes by that i don't think about it. I've seen a few different possibilities brought up in the fandom and idk which one fucks me up the hardest to think about

She shares their moon motif. Did you guys know she was originally intended to be in the shadow alliance because of this

She's chosen as the boogeyman twice. The first time, there are some... complications.

namely, the endgame begins and grian kills mumbo and the time is now. martyn's hit pretty hard by this. enough to be willing to kill grian about it. but he's a green life, and pearl's not cured, and you can't just reroll for what would seem like no reason to the players.

Whatever happened to Pearl in-universe was probably the Watchers' doing.

the second time comes right off the heels of that stunt Scott pulled. She tells no one, tries to blow up all the remaining non-reds at once (minus Cleo), and only gets one and it's ren and they like ren.

Then she dies, and Scott wins,

And season 3 happens.

And they fall apart. And everyone abandons her. And her dog dies and she's devastated.

And she mcfucking loses it.

She goes and becomes a bad omen. Demoness, Scarlet Pearl, blood moon. She's torturing Scott, freezing herself nearly to death to cause him pain. Chaos and death follow everywhere she goes, the whole server fears her, and she's having the worst time of her life about it.

and she just gets worse and worse. and she WINS. the previous winners have been grian and scott, their two most hated players. for once, for the first time actually, they've got a victor they can stand.

cut to limited life and now she's emulating them without meaning to. i have... no idea what they'd think of the nosy neighbours, if they'd be offended or find it funny or what

and then there's everything relating to the possession incident and her being sent back before she's ready

i can't really think of anything notable in season 5 but yeah Pearl's relationship with the watchers has fascinated me for ages

anyways go watch the end of a life animatic

[whumpsoda]

We Search For Stolen Personhood - First Bath

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpees, recovering whumpees

——————

Prince blinked, once, then twice. Nothing changed. Not the trickling run of the water, the square shaped tile neatly circled around the tub, or the disheveled look of himself in the mirror. He didn’t wake up as if from a dream, or shake himself back to his sir’s. 

He hadn’t bathed himself in a long time. 

Not since the facility, with the others all doing the same around him, the freezing cold water that shot like little pricking pins into his skin, and the handlers watching with keen eyes from every angle. But this wasn’t like that.

Prince’s gaze stayed fixed on the water level as it grew by the second. He’d never filled the bath himself either, whenever the maids brought him in for his morning routine it was already full.

He had the control to adjust the temperature however he liked - at least he thought he could, no one told him otherwise - plunging his hand in every couple minutes to check. He had to guess which way to turn the knob, unable to read which side was hot and which was cold.

Prince was even alone. He hadn’t been alone since he’d left his sir’s room, and it was a sort of strangely refreshing feeling. Even when normally he hated any speckle of time just by himself.

Swiveling to his feet, he found himself back in the mirror. This one wasn’t like the one in his sir’s room, smaller and cut in an oval shape, his sir’s standing tall and rectangular.

The first thing his vision stuck to was the absence of his collar. Softly he ran his hand over the spot it used to sit, Isaac having taken it before he left, and he assumed she would not give it back. None of the other pets wore one.

He felt more exposed than he ever had without it, even while standing completely naked.

The area where it had been was merely left a bit red, his sir having gifted him one that wouldn’t do much damage to his skin, because he was just kind like that.

So kind.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught the tub rising almost full, switching off the faucet after accidentally turning it the wrong way, and carefully stepping in. He sunk down to chin level like he always did, knobby knees sticking out from above the surface.

Grabbing the bottle Isaac had directed him to being shampoo, he squeezed out a thick glob into his palm before plopping it onto his scalp. Shivering at the slightly cool touch, he began rubbing it in with his fingers and nails, trying to emulate how gentle the maids always did it.

Prince wanted to imagine, just for a moment, that it was someone else’s touch, someone who sent tender sensations of love and warmth through their contact, who would talk to him in a saccharine tone while they worked.

And that someone wasn’t his sir.

Brow furrowing, he shifted against the wall of the tub. He should have wished it was his sir. Should have. 

But he didn’t. 

Swallowing, gulping down thick saliva over the lump winding tight in his throat, he pressed a bubble soaked hand to his chest, feeling around for the tense rolling underneath his skin. It was always an unwelcome feeling, one that he tried his best to bury down and not think about. Eventually it always came back sometime, and that sometime was normally when he thought about his sir.

And Prince loved his sir.

You love the owner, whoever they are.

He did. He did. He loved his sir, so, so much.

So much. Not just because… because he had to.

And his sir loved him, even if he never said it. It was like a little unspoken secret between the two, because how could Prince have possibly stood it if his sir didn’t?

Love was the way his sir took delicate care of him, making sure he never had to lift a finger, just sit and look pretty like he was meant to.

Love was the way his sir kept him stuck inside his bedroom, because then he could be kept perfectly safe from the horrors of the outside.

Love was the way his sir punished him when he really needed it, to keep him a good boy for his owner.

Love was the way his sir made him do things he didn’t want to because he was too stupid to know what was right for himself, and he signed up for it.

Love was the way he fantasied about murdering his sir because he hated the way he looked at Prince and he couldn’t understand why he’d ever sold himself, but he signed up for it.

Thinking about it, as if he had any clue what love felt like beside what his training said it was, Prince, just for a second, thought that didn’t really sound like love at all.

———

Mutt swayed a little, holding onto the wall to stabilize himself. Prince followed, one of each of their hands curled between the other’s, Mutt’s fingers squeezing tight, but not tight enough to hurt the other pet.

Mutt continued to wear his collar, physically unable to give it up. The mere mention of giving it up sent him into a panic, Prince having been there to easily calm him down. Luckily Isaac dropped the subject, allowing Mutt the last remnant of his master.

It was his turn to bathe, and the mere mention brought a pound to his heart and a quiver to his lip. He knew he needed one, especially when trailing off from a mind melting sickness, but he was scared.

Terrified, even, of the freezing cold temperatures and the blasting pressure of water, but when he stepped into the bathroom there was none of that. A bathtub, filled to the brim with lukewarm water.

“I didn’t know what temperature you would like. S- sorry.” Prince said, holding Mutt upright as he wobbled, just before taking a jerking sneeze.

Mutt sniveled. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay.” 

He wasn’t okay. He was such a bad, stupid mutt, being so useless. Making Prince take pity on him when Mutt should have been groveling at his feet for forgiveness.

Instead, Prince helped him into the tub, legs swallowed by the clear abyss. He gradually sunk in, all the way up to his nose, letting the slightly warmer than room temperature bath coat him like a thin blanket, a luxury he’d never before had.

Mut sat for a beat, breathing through his mouth with a stuffed up nose as he really took in the moment. He dipped further down as he finally allowed himself to relax, sighing with pleasure.

“Let me help you.”

Prince dumped a thick glob of shampoo into his hand before rubbing them together and sinking them onto Mutt’s scalp. He scrubbed and scratched through his greasy mop of hair, Mutt snuggling right into his blissful touch. He followed eagerly along with Prince’s fingers, searching desperately for more contact.

As Prince scritched behind his ears he was practically drooling, a dopey smile smooshing his cheeks into his eyes. Prince giggled, and Mutt caught himself. “Am I doing okay? Do you like it?”

“Yes, yes, Prince.” He mumbled, face flushing as he rid of any semblance of a grin.

“Good.” He smiled, continuing the pleasurable running of his fingers through Mutt’s twisted up hair. “How, um, how are you feeling? I think your sickness is ending soon.”

Mutt nodded. “Better. Much, much better. I am able to keep you safe again.”

He breathed a dry laugh. “You don’t… need to do that.”

“Yes I do. Master said so.”

“Right.” Prince spat, tone a smidge sour and not kind and submissive as it always was. It caught Mutt of guard, a sickly feeling stirring in his belly.

What would he have been doing right then, if everything were normal instead of confusing and wrong?

Most likely he would have been knelt by his master’s side as he worked, mind dancing in circles to keep himself from falling asleep. He would have tried his very best to keep focus on his surroundings, ensuring nothing would ever come to endanger his master.

The thought that was meant to placate Mutt, only came along with more of a sickly feeling than what already plagued him.

Though, if he were truly honest with himself, the reality of being bathed in an actual tub with lukewarm water and Prince massaging suds into his scalp was far more pleasing than anything he’d ever been through at his master’s side. Even if Mutt would never admit it.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[jukari91]

Because he...

How Tala tells stories to the children.

Preserves tradition and knowledge.

Is such a fanboy.

Is an open, sensitive soul.

Is often in his own world.

Is so easily jumpy.

Is sooooo much of a fanboy (it needs to be said twice 😅)

Despite his fear, he faces the storm god.

Quickly bonds with the new peoples.

That's why Moni is a funny but also very exhausting character.

___________

Moni is the storykeeper of Motunui, a very important position in a culture without written language.

His age is unknown. Based on his actions and appearance (no wrinkles or tattoos), it's safe to assume he's not much older than Moana, perhaps 20-25 years old.

He's Maui's biggest living fan and emulates him, so it's fitting that he's brought into the crew as Maui's backup.Like Maui, Moni is strong (by mortal standards) and knows the old stories.

Because of his strength, it's also his job to operate the rudder. Even when they fall into the shell, we see everyone (especially Kele) trying to hold on to the strong young man. When Moana is pulled from the boat, she hopes Moni is strong enough to hold on to her, but she slips from his grasp.

He's so excited to meet Maui that he doesn't seem to notice his discomfort at all.

He's so excited to meet Maui that he doesn't seem to notice his discomfort at all. In the book, Maui was quite angry with Moni when he interrupted him with the line "It's Maui Time," which doesn't happen in the movie. Likewise, the movie doesn't have the scene where Moni shouts into the storm that they're going to defeat Nalo, so Maui returns to the boat specifically to give Moni a high five.

Moni overcomes his fears to help against Nalo, even though he had to face death just moments before.

In the end, he returns to Motunui with Moana and the rest of the crew. He has experienced an adventure relevant to history and, most importantly, met Maui!

I find it hard to say whether Moni will play such a big role in the third film.

Since he was originally hired as a replacement for Maui, and now he's apparently back in the game, Moni's position on board is redundant...Maybe he'll be given a new role, as a mapmaker or something... (I don't think they had maps back then.)This is just my own interpretation and thoughts.

[thestupidhelmet]

Do you think Jay's womanizing could be explained by his father's and uncles' constant bragging about his conquests when he was growing up? It would make sense for him to turn out like you described, but the way he turned out in the actual show could also make a lot of sense if you imagine his father and uncles sharing TMI about their own sex lives or saying things like: "don't settle down, sleep with as many girls as you can, that's the life" or "you are twelve and you still haven't kissed a girl? You need to get right on it, you're behind!" This kind of upbringing would produce a womanizer but the show could have delved more into that and had Jay tell more stories about his home life than just "my mom is mad that I set the carpet on fire"

I think it's a plausible possibility -- without Jackie being his mother or in his life. But Jackie would've made Jay the center of her life, especially with Kelso stepping out in her regularly (a reasonable extrapolation based on his T7S characterization and their relationship in both T7S and T9S).

Jackie would not want Jay emulating his father, despite that -- or because -- she can't disentangle her romantic feelings from Kelso. While she's her T7S S1-S4 controlling and somewhat violent self to T9S Kelso, she could very well treat Jay in a much more loving way. We know she's capable of it with the right influences and motivation.

With a mom who respects, loves, and supports him, Jay would (hopefully) not develop the misogyny Kelso and his male siblings have due, in large part, to their mother's inability to parent so many children and give the attention each needs. As Eric tells Kelso in "Stolen Car" (T7S S1), Kelso's parents have seven kids and won't notice Kelso is missing or have the wherewithal to care that one was arrested.

Of course, Kelso's father is equally responsible. But from what we see of him in "Career Day" (T7S 1x18), he's not turned into his emotions. He's a worker, possibly a workaholic. He's not the dad to play a baseball game with his kids or take them to a baseball game.

But for Kelso and Casey, at least, their anger and resentment at their upbringing is transferred onto all women since their mother is likely the parent who was physically present and doing most of the parenting -- and probably at her wits' end with seven of them to raise.

Jackie has one child in T9S. Despite that she's a Jackie whose relationship with Hyde is cut from her core, her core still contains her potential to love unconditionally, her emotional insight, her reflex to be helpful and supportive, her potential to be self-aware. Jay would've gotten the best of Jackie while growing up with the discipline and boundaries Kelso is incapable of giving him.

For example, he wouldn't have stolen Nate's bike because Jackie would've made sure Jay had the best of everything, partly to (over)compensate for the father he has and her toxic relationship with him.

Kelso's sex talk(s) would consist of "doing it as much and as often as you can. That'll prove you're the hottest guy around, and everyone'll look up to you. Also, most chicks'll expect you to be monogamous. Just tell them you are and have sex with whoever you want. It worked for me. Your mom still married me --twice -- despite all the cheating I do -- I mean did. Yeah. 'Cause she'd rather be with the hottest cheater than the loserist monogamist."

(^^^ This is before the third divorce and third remarriage).

Jackie's sex talks would also be romantic relationship talks. First, she'd tell him to ignore everything his dad said. Then she'd say, "Find out who the girl you like really is. It's easy to ignore red flags if you want an idea of a girl badly enough. Don't mistake what's fantasy for what's real.

"If you don't want to be 'tied down' to one girl, that's okay. Just be honest with the girls you date. Let them know you aren't interested in being anyone's full-time boyfriend. Then they have the choice to hook up with you or not. You wouldn't want a girl you really, really like to lie to you about that, right? And being silent about the truth is the same as lying."

Jay might ask her why she stays "with Dad" or keeps going back to him.

Jackie says, "You are a wonderful, smart, creative boy. You can be whoever you want. Have what you truly want. Don't settle for less than what you're worth."

Jay says, "Wait ... are you telling me you settled for Dad? Why?"

Jackie says, "I'm telling you that you don't have to settle."

Jackie refuses to elaborate, but Jay wants to know why his great mom would settle for his not-so-great dad. This would be a driving force because it's an inextricable part of his own identity (as forged by his upbringing).

[dailycharacteroption]

Living Avalanche (Brawler Archetype)

(art by Rshupe on DeviantArt)

They say the strongest foes hit like a ton of bricks, or a Mack truck, or perhaps, yes, even an avalanche. Name your heavy and swiftly falling/moving object of choice, and you can construct a simile about how hard that big guy in the arena can hit you.

But for some, a mere verbal comparison of physical strength is not nearly enough. Some wish to truly emulate the might of falling snow and rock, to leave their foes utterly overwhelmed by their physicality the same way poor souls are crushed and suffocated under an unstoppable torrent of matter sourced from a higher elevation.

These so-called living avalanches may or may not actually be from a mountainous region, but it doesn’t matter, for their primary strategy remains the same: overwhelm foes with the combination of Newton’s various laws to knock back, trample, and bowl over their foes with their weight and force.

Mass is important here, so it’s very unlikely to see a wiry Living Avalanche. Instead, they may combine raw muscle with a stout frame and a healthy layer of body fat as well. (Think less body builder, more professional wrestler or weight lifter, maybe even sumo wrestler.) and are likely quite proud of their bulk.

No matter what form they take, however, they can truly be an unstoppable force like a wall of ice crashing down the mountain.

Overrunning and rushing foes is the bread and butter of this style, and so not only do they learn the basics for doing so without leaving themselves open, but become especially good at those maneuvers, ignoring training in other combat maneuvers and even cascade multiple foes into each other with their overwhelming force.

They even learn how to drive foes they overrun into the dirt, and push foes much larger than themselves.

They are not entirely offensive though, as they also evoke the immovable object, hardening their bodies to absorb damage from all but the most piercing forces.

Using their foes like stepping stools, more masterful warriors can overrun multiple foes at once, not only also knocking them prone, but driving them down with enough force to injure them, and at the zenith of their ability, such attacks can also potentially deal grievous wounds.

This archetype is perfect for a warrior that wants to be able to further punish foes when they overrun, and control the positioning of multiple foes at once. They can get in and out of the midst of their foes with relative ease, so keep that in mind when your allies have area effect spells.

With their ability to handle multiple attackers at once, I can imagine this martial style might have emerged in regions where travellers can be expected to be accosted by large groups, be they swarming monsters, brigands that use their numbers to their advantage, and the like.

So bulky they resemble the boulders of their mountain home, the Tumbling Stones are a clan of gargoyles that revere highest peak of Graflon Range: Mt. Pabul, as a sacred figure. However, their favored method of worshipping the mountain is very un-neighborly, preferring to come down on foes from above with the force of an avalanche and either crushing them directly or sending them to a plummeting demise.

The Valley of Killing Spirits is perpetually blanketed in fog, but the reason of it’s name comes from the trench mists that long ago wandered in, killing any living creatures they came across. The villages in the mountains above know to avoid it, but they aren’t above using their martial arts to drive interlopers into the valley, hoping that those that survive the fall with placate the evil within.

The Rhino is the current champion of the arena, famed for his ability to overpower other gladiators even when they all attack at once. He bowls over even foes twice his size with little effort, but he says little of his past, trying to avoid the fame that nevertheless follows him around.

[wild-karrde]

Hi Karrde! Congrats on the milestone! Quote ficlet: “Wait. What do you want me to do?!” & Wolffe 🤭

Thanks so much Kira! This one took a bit of a turn that was unexpected for me, but I kind of like how it turned out (and I really hope you do too!) Thanks again for the ask!

Rating: T

Warnings: language, mention of death/canon-typical violence

Word Count: 1.9k words

Wolffe lengthened his strides, trying to pick up his pace without looking rushed. His meetings with his general had normally taken place at the Coruscant base near the barracks, but for whatever reason, Plo Koon had insisted Wolffe meet him at the Jedi temple this time. And after getting turned around in the unfamiliar corridors and having to double back at least twice, Wolffe was running late. 

Wolffe hated being late. 

He rounded a final corner and fought the urge to sigh audibly with relief when he caught sight of the door the general had indicated in his directions. Wiping a little bit of sweat from his brow, he straightened his spine to attention and pressed the buzzer on the door panel. 

“Enter,” came the familiar baritone of Plo Koon from within.

Wolffe was surprised to find the door unlocked. He couldn’t think of a single door on base that wasn’t secured with the exception of maybe the refreshers, but even those were attached to the individual barracks, which required an access code. 

Must not be as concerned with security since damn near everyone here wields a lightsaber.

Stepping inside, he found the Kel Dor Jedi master kneeling in front of a low table. To Wolffe, it felt as though he had intruded on some private moment, and it made him sweat harder under his armor. 

“General, I apologize for my tardiness. If now is a bad time, I can come back later and –”

“Wolffe, you can set your helmet by the door. Please come sit down and have some tea with me.” 

The clone commander stumbled in his apology as the general’s words settled into his brain, and he uncharacteristically stuttered. “W-wait. What do you want me to do?”

The Kel Dor chuckled to himself, gesturing at a cushion next to him. “I’d like you to sit down and have some tea with me.” 

Wolffe stood still by the door awkwardly. “I still don’t understand, sir.” 

Plo Koon pushed himself to his feet, crossing the room and reaching out his hands for Wolffe’s helmet. “I find I’m more effective in my leadership when I have a good understanding of those I’m leading. Even more so if they are my friends. So I would like to be your friend, Wolffe. I understand that we have a power dynamic that makes this difficult, but I would like to try anyway. Is that alright?” 

Wolffe nodded slowly, his brain rushing to process what was happening. The general wanted to be his friend. He thought very highly of the general, but he’d never have thought to cross the line into ‘friendship’. Come to think of it, Wolffe wasn’t sure if he’d ever really had someone he called a 'friend'. He had Cody and Rex and Fox and Bly and the others, but they were brothers, and a brother was different. They were of course friends by definition, but it almost felt like the default, and very different from a friendship he would share with any other being. Only brothers understood what a brother went through, but maybe that was Plo’s point, his goal: to figure out what it was like to be Wolffe, to be a clone. To become his friend so as to better understand him. Wolffe did agree with the tactic; he found he was more effective as a commander when he understood the mental states and personalities of his men. As much as it felt like a violation of some sort of unwritten protocol, he relented, handing his helmet to his general and striding over to the cushion on the floor. 

Plo set his helmet on a table by the door, coming to sit across from him. He watched as Wolffe attempted to lower himself onto the cushion, trying to emulate the Jedi Master’s cross-legged seated position, but finding it difficult with his armor on. The Kel Dor chuckled again. “We are not currently under threat of attack, Commander. If it would be easier and more comfortable, you are welcome to take off some of your armor.” 

That felt too casual for Wolffe. “If it’s all the same to you, sir, I think I’d rather keep it on in case I get called away suddenly.” 

Plo nodded. “Very well. How do you take your tea?” 

Wolffe stared at him. “I’m not much of a tea drinker if I’m honest, sir. Normally all we have around is caf, and even then, it’s the type of stuff that would peel paint off a star cruiser.” 

The Kel Dor chuckled again. “I’ll keep that in mind for any future meetings. For now, let’s just see if you enjoy it the same way Master Kenobi does. He was the one that I first had this sort of tea with. I’ve been assured it’s not too abrasive to the human palette.” He sprinkled a little bit of sugar into the cup closest to Wolffe before reaching out and sliding a box that had been sitting on the table towards the clone commander. “I’ve also noted you have a bit of a sweet tooth. I hope these are to your liking.” 

Wolffe popped the box open hesitantly, and was immediately hit with the smell of warm butter and cinnamon. His mouth watered involuntarily as he stared down at the glazed sweet buns inside. 

“They smell amazing, sir. Where did you get them?”

“I’d heard it rumored that the 28th Combat Wing frequents a certain shop on one of the lower levels, so I made a point to stop by there. Getting their captain to disclose the location required me to promise not to reveal the location, not even under threat of torture.” Because of his mask and eye coverings, Kel Dors were somewhat limited in their expressions, but Wolffe suspected if Plo could have winked at him, he would have. That particular shop was indeed a well-kept secret, one that Wolffe had damn near promised his left kidney for, but he wasn’t surprised that the Jedi Master had gotten the secret out of Crater. The captain of the 28th had always been a good judge of character, and if you spent more than five minutes with Plo Koon, you likely would trust him with just about anything. 

A thought struck Wolffe. “Sir, are you even able to eat these?” 

The Kel Dor was carefully adding dried, purplish leaves into a teapot. “I could, but it wouldn’t necessarily be a pleasant sight for you. Due to my inability to breathe this atmosphere without my mask, eating for my species is a somewhat involved task, one that I’d rather not subject you to.” 

Wolffe nodded, trying not to let his mind wander towards any insensitive questions. He noted that there were two tea cups out, and he was debating whether to ask his next question, but the Jedi seemed to read his mind. “Luckily, when it comes to liquids, I do have an apparatus in my mask that allows me to ingest those with some ease.” 

“But won’t that still poison you? Sir?” Wolffe added hastily. “The oxygen in the water that is.”

Plo chuckled again. “It’s actually not usually a problem if I ingest something containing oxygen as long as the concentration isn’t above a certain threshold. The main issue is with my respiratory system, but my mask does contain a filtration system to keep me safe while drinking as well.” He pressed at a small place on the side of his mask, and a thin apparatus only a few centimeters in length protruded, seemingly some sort of straw. Wolffe nodded. 

“I suppose that makes sense.” 

Plo pulled the strainer containing the tea leaves from the tea pot, setting it aside and pouring the steaming magenta liquid into the two cups, sliding the one containing sugar towards Wolffe. 

“I sense you have other questions, Commander. Ones that aren’t about my anatomy.” 

Wolffe felt heat creep across his face. “Sorry,” he mumbled, hurriedly taking a sip of the tea. It was light and floral with just a hint of sweetness from the sugar. He deemed it pleasant, even if it did scald his tongue. 

“No need to apologize. I’m not necessarily a species one comes across outside of my homeworld,” the Jedi reassured him. 

Wolffe nodded, setting the tea down on the saucer and running his burned tongue across the roof of his mouth as he considered how to ask his next question. The Kel Dor watched him patiently. Finally, Wolffe gave up trying to beat around the bush. Subtlety and flowery language had never been his favored approach.

“Alright. Why do you suddenly want to be my friend, sir? Don’t get me wrong, I agree with your reasoning. It just seems that something spurred this on, and I’d like to know what changed in case I need to adjust accordingly.” 

He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what event had caused this sudden shift. The way his Jedi general stared out the window for a moment with a seemingly distant gaze all but confirmed it. 

“After what happened with the Malevolence, there was one particular moment I couldn’t get out of my mind. The violence and death disconcerted me of course, but it was a moment with your brothers while we were outside the pod. They told me they didn’t think anyone was coming because clones are meant to be expendable. And that is…unacceptable to me.” 

Wolffe nodded slowly, trying to keep his face neutral. His brothers had relayed the other side of the conversation to him, and quite frankly, the general’s emphatic response that they were not expendable in his mind was a moment that would live on in the Wolfpack’s minds forever. It had been the moment where Wolffe knew they’d gotten lucky, that their general cared about them, and that at the end of the day, they’d follow him anywhere because of that. 

Plo continued, “I want to ensure you never feel like that. I never want you to feel that I don’t care about your well-being, or that I see you as a weapon rather than a being worthy of empathy and compassion. So, I thought it was best that we come to understand each other, not just as general and commander, but as friends.” 

The two of them sat quietly for a moment, both sipping their tea. Finally, Plo spoke again. “I understand this is unorthodox. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable. If so, I sincerely apologize.” 

Wolffe bit into one of the buns, chewing contemplatively as he studied the Jedi Master before him. There was something about Plo Koon that always seemed to instantly disarm him, something that made him want to confide in the Jedi. He’d always been slow to trust anyone that wasn’t a brother, but the Kel Dor had never given him a reason to doubt his motives or question his intentions. He’d always been honest with Wolffe, even if he sensed he disagreed. In fact, he had welcomed any opposition to his line of thinking, occasionally changing course if Wolffe could provide reasoning to make him see things differently. And above all, he liked the Jedi, no matter how much he tried to keep the barrier between their roles a very clearly drawn line in the sand. He took another bite of the bun, and the buttery warmth soothed his scalded tongue. He smiled to himself. 

If Crater trusts him with the sweet shop, then you can trust him too. And you’ve always known that.

“With all due respect, sir, if you keep providing me with this quality of pastry, I don’t think I’ll have any choice but to be your friend.”

If Kel Dors could smile, he was certain Plo’s would have damn near swallowed his face. “Noted for our future teas together then, Commander.”

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[hunsa-jars]

man

Heyy things are pretty busy and exhausting right now, but I promise I'm trying to be brave about it

Might pop up here tomorrow

Or the day after tomorrow- this week sometime, or I'll go bonkers

Gonna queue this because I really shouldn't be distracting myself more than I already do nhdfdh

Haghhhh I miss you all, I'll be back

(uhh life update under the cut? to the folks who are curious, kinda wanted to mention these at some point anyways)

OI HI TO THE PEOPLE WHO STAYED HOW'S IT GOING

Remember that I said that my phone might be still alive after all? Well.. yeah, no, that was a false alarm, it really did kick the bucket. Temporarily using my sister's old phone until I get a new one this Christmas

And because I'm the way I am, I refuse to change anything about it- like I can't stand the idea of getting used/attached to it when I know in a couple of weeks I'm gonna give it back, so..

So yeah, I don't want to go through the procedures of logging into everything, including Tumblr

I've been avoiding going here anyway, so technically it helps :''')

My attention span is so awful you guys, so mad at myself 24/7 for always looking for excuses to not do my studying routine

Speaking of studying, this is the last week of uni for this year!

BUT exam period is starting next week and I have like 3 exams before Christmas, so fun

Uhhhh remember the board game I mentioned making? Teacher loved it and wants to display it for the university's open day. Pretty glad, worked hard on that thing (even tho it could have been better)

Gonna show you guys once I get it back

Uhhhh did my best with my recorder, my hands were shaking, but the teacher could tell I was only messing up because I was nervous as balls, and not because I didn't know the songs, thank god

My grandma is doing well! Well.. better. We keep her company. My cousins come to visit us twice a week now, so no silent Saturdays or Sundays

FINALLY figured out how to use emulators, so between studying for the January exams and relative visits, I'm gonna finally play Animal Crossing and Earthbound properly (I think I've mentioned using online emulators before, but those distorted the music so much I just couldn't continue with it)

Also was anybody going to tell me that OFF is free?

And Yume Nikki?? On Steam?????? Hello??

Umm also! My little brother sat down with me last Saturday and made me watch Murder Drones (he's hyperfixating and wanted to pass it onto me, spoilers: IT WORKED)

Oh my goodness... that show................................. Plan for another flooding

What else, uh- we're on season 2 of AOT, it's insane, it makes me insane, I wish I could say more without going unhinged

I... i think that's all

To the people who've been tagging me the past few days I SEE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR THINKING OF ME, I'LL GET TO IT

Well

See you guys later this week, hopefully, please take care

[selenityshiroiml]

So much salt directed at Marinette and implying that the series is glorifying her actions and that it's a poor example.

If you walked away from the special thinking that the series is trying to push that a) Marinette's actions were supposed to be a good thing and b) that Marinette herself thought she had done the right thing then you weren't paying attention.

Marinette is clearly unhappy about the lies she told. She questioned the choice multiple times. She asked multiple people's opinions on if she did the right thing and not ONE PERSON AGREED (although none of them stopped her, either). Everytime she made a choice to reinforce the decision the scene direction implied it was a torn decision (often with a half and half shot of her face as Ladybug/Marinette further emphasising that she has an internal conflict both as herself, as Ladybug and between herself and Ladybug). The scene direction and music was somber and played the choice off as a negative. She is unhappy about lying to Adrien and massively conflicted over it.

Nothing about that special was trying to show Marinette's choice positively. And this is not new. Marinette is OFTEN called out for poor decision making by the narrative or by her emotional state. When she hasn't trusted others things have gone wrong or she has gotten distressed and these situations resolve when she gets help. When she acted over the top with her crush on Adrien it always blew up in her face until she fixed what she had done and he, instead, reacted positively to her being more natural.

These things are not always resolved in the same episode. And, clearly, this season is setting up for a longer arc where Marinette will eventually have to face the consequences for these choices. Even before that it is likely that it will impact her relationship with Adrien as Marinette, her relationship with Chat Noir as Ladybug and, likely, her friendships with the team both in and out of costumes. She is probably going to make more difficult choices going forward to maintain the lie and it going to continue to be conflicted and unhappy about it, further causing her stress and anxiety.

And when it comes out it is not likely to be pretty. Adrien is going to be very understandably hurt and confused.

But Marinette is not doing any of this out of malice. She is a very upset 14 year old girl who just watched her boyfriend's father (who she may not have liked but was probably not aware of the extent of his abuse of Adrien) effectively commit suicide after revealing himself to be a terrorist. She is probably not processing any of that very well and, on top of that, she has the weight of the world on her shoulders with Paris relying on her in a way that no child should have to carry. That is not someone who is going to make an effective and rational decision on how to share that entire set of traumatic events with the person who will be most hurt by them. Especially when she loves him and doesn't want to cause him pain.

She fucked up. But she is not doing that with a goal of hurting Adrien. She is not doing that with a goal of controlling Adrien. She is not doing that with probably any clear goal or aim other than sparing Adrien the pain of knowing that his father was a terrorist.

But she is still going to cause him pain. Because when it comes out that she lied (either from discovery of Ladybug's lies or from realising that Marinette knew or both) it is going to hurt Adrien twice over. Because two people he trusts and cares about (Marinette and Ladybug) deceived him. And, regardless of their lack of malice, it's not going to be easy to accept.

Obviously they are going to eventually resolve things. But writing her actions off as irredeemable or as being portrayed as an example to emulate is ridiculous.

Protaganists are allowed to be wrong. Kids can tell when protaganists are making wrong decisions, even without being told, when the character is clearly not happy about it. People can make mistakes and be forgiven for them (and this is an important thing for kids to learn because otherwise they a) won't admit to their own mistakes and b) won't try to make positive changes if they get in trouble).

And, yes, it's also important for kids to know that forgiveness isn't always guaranteed. And my deepest wish is that, eventually, Adrien will NOT be required to forgive Gabriel for the things he did (although I'm not sure this will be the case). But Marinette is not likely to be (nor do I think she SHOULD be) an example of this concept. Because making a fucked up choice in a fucked up situation when you are clearly traumatised is NOT automatically unforgivable.

[kentuckycaverats]

being emo about what a difference del's made in my life, word vomit below the cut so i don't clog the dash.

i've talked about this a wee bit on here, but after my first couple of years getting into ttrpgs i realized that i kept accidentally putting pieces of my soul into my pcs and having surprise Realizations over the course of the game(s), so i decided to start doing it on purpose

i built del very intentionally to have like, all of my childhood-adolescent trauma. the details are all greatly exaggerated but are rooted in the same feelings: not being allowed to have boundaries, not being allowed to make my own choices, being denied autonomy, being openly gay and trans in a conservative christian town, intimate partner abuse, suicidality. the fujinamis are (very loosely) based on my own parents and the tsugas are the parents i wish i'd had. sabina is not-so-loosely based on my abusive ex

but del is unlike me in every other way. she can stand up for herself, she can set and enforce boundaries, she's strong-willed and physically capable, afraid of nothing, and genuinely can't be fucked to care what anyone thinks of her. traits that i don't have but desperately wish that i did. i figured that if i could develop and play a character who emulates those things, then hey, look, those exist in me too, because del can't exist without me. my therapist has been a huge proponent of this and has helped me to utilize del as a therapeutic tool, and boyyyy has it worked. with the combination of EMDR + delphine, i've made crazy progress just in this last year

last night my partner and i were talking to his best friend and ended up on the topic of first relationships, and she wanted to know about my abusive ex. and like. she's haunted me for over a decade. it used to be that i couldn't think or talk about what she did to me without violently dissociating and triggering nightmares about her. but it doesn't hurt me to talk about anymore? she sucks ass and she's the worst person i ever met in my life, but i'm not afraid of her anymore. and i credit like 50% of that to therapy/EMDR and the other half to del game

because del has gotten to face and defeat sabina twice: first in backstory, in which del diablerized her and ended up with sabina's consciousness kicking around in her head, then again with tara and the coterie by her side as she killed her for good. when we were going into that session my therapist had a hunch that being rid of sabina in-game would help me get past the last big block from my own abuser, and she was right. i didn't notice it right away, but even when she does show up in my dreams (and she did last night, like she usually does when i talk about her) they aren't nightmares anymore. she's there and i'm annoyed mostly, but not afraid. i can tell her no and tell her to fuck off and instead of the big looming figure she used to be in my brain she's just a pathetic asshole who can't reach me anymore

my therapist says all the time that the brain processes fiction and reality the same way, emotionally-speaking, and we joke about ttrpg as group therapy but it really has been. and so much of that credit goes to our st who's (1) brilliant (2) so cognizant of telling trauma stories in a safe and respectful way and (3) has a window into my soul i guess?? he knows i'm plural but the del/aelsidhe arc was a complete surprise to me, and oddly enough comes like, scary close to paralleling the relationship between myself (del as proxy) and the host before me (aelsidhe as proxy) who i was supposed to protect from our ex. i couldn't have come up with a more fitting arc for del if i'd tried

anyway. tl;dr - healing is stored in the fighty little cockroach lesbian and she will always be so so special to me