#so then i made it real but using mine own flag.

[misterradio]

i made glob wormgender icons, look how the green and yellow lighting fits the flag perfectly. then i saw this random worm banner in my files that was saved from the deltarune sweepstakes website so that's here too. i'm not sure why i made these.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙾

description: In reader's last game of her career, her wife and team make sure she understands how loved she really is

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

vicky losada x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying vicky is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, bad google translations as per usual!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by losada_vicky, lucybronze and 298, 374 others

y/n spooky season... 👻

view all 11, 238 comments

username1: she is so pretty kill me now! 🙀🙀

username2: HOW CAN YOU LOOK LIKE THAT 😳😳

username3: love love love it!

losada_vicky: Jesus, I am a lucky woman... 🤯

^

y/n: proud to wear Losada on my back baby ! 🩷

username4: UGHHHHHH

username5: PLEASE MA'AM 🔥🔥

username6: Break me like a glowstick I beg

^

y/n: ya'll need to touch grass oml 🤨

^

username6: OMG OMG ❤️❤️

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

losada_vicky just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Twitter/X

username1: I don't know if I can take it today - I cannot believe it 😭😭

^

username2: I am going to miss her so much.

^

username3: She is only 33, why do you think she is retiring? 😶

^

username4: She was really badly injured during her second world cup, her ACL tore, cracked two ribs and gave herself a dent in her skull, so...

^

username3: well, then that makes sense...

username5: I am so used to seeing her, I am going to miss her so much! 😭❤️

username6: I AM GOING TO CRY THEIR FUCKING STORIES GOD NO ❤️

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

When the whistle blew, y/n couldn't believe it, the air was pulled from her lungs and as her teamed cheered in relief from the win, a tear dropped down her cheek at the idea of leaving for real this time.

Her wife wrapped an arm around her and the team swarmed her soon enough, a lot of people crying as they enjoyed a last group hug with their captain of four years.

As they pulled away, y/n looked out at the crowd who were screaming, cheering, waving Brighton Flags for her, and she laughed tearfully and waved out at them in thanks.

"Right." Vicky's voice echoes a microphone held in her hand.

"My wife has given a lot of her life to Brighton, and she honestly loves everything about this club, the players, the staff and especially the fans. I love this club because of her." Vicky says.

The crowd aww's at that, and y/n smiles sadly as she watches her wife who was looking around, proudly talking about the one she called her own.

"She may be retiring, but y/n Losada will be remembered for years as the best Brighton, fan, player and Captain because she has changed so many lives in the course of her own." Vicky finishes.

The crowd erupts at that, cheers showing such agreement to Vicky's speech that the captain covered hr face and took a deep breath, trying to stop from bursting into tears.

A microphone was somehow passed to her, and y/n shook her head, but the chants of 'speech speech speech' were telling her she was over-ruled.

"Um, wow, where to start?" She asks. "First of all, I came through the Brighton academy and played on a senior pitch at the age of 16. I am now 33, and after a brief few years at Barcelona, am honoured to have done my final game here." y/n begins, the crowd cheering for her.

"I am so grateful to every fantastic person on this team, in this club and in this crowd. Because you have made my job the easiest thing in the world." y/n smiles, her wife chuckling and wiping a tear.

"My wife is crying, though I wish she wouldn't because we both know, if I play any longer, I will be sewn back together with how many injuries I have got." y/n laughs, her hand coming up to cup her wife's face lovingly.

"I won't say much more, but thank you for your support, thank you for your love, you will all always have mine. Thank you Brighton and Thank you football. See you around!" y/n finishes and the crowd bursts into cheers.

Two loud bangs happen and y/n jumps before laughing in shock at the fireworks that had been set off from the stadium, the officials giving her a proper goodbye as people cheered.

"y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n!!" The crowd cheered, repeating her name over and over while the Brighton team piled on her one last time. y/n knew she'd enjoy being a wag, but she would miss football.

Vicky wrapped an arm around her, pressing her lips to her lover's temple as the woman sighed and relaxed in her hold, finding comfort in her wife's warmth.

"I know my love, I know." Vicky promises.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by, losada_vicky, brightonfc and 429, 736 others

y/n

Words cannot express the pain I have saying goodbye, football has given me a family, several teams, a wife and so much love.

I may be hurting, but I heard you all and I am so thankful for you, and the happiness you gave me tonight and always shall never be matched!

Thank you all so much, I have had such a fantastic time in this career. I will see you all soon, when I am fulfilling my WAG duties!

All my love

y/n Losada xx

comments disabled.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

losada_vicky just posted

liked by y/n, alexiaputellas and 392, 921 others

tagged y/n

losada_vicky There may have been several reasons my wife took a step back from football. We cannot wait to meet this reason. ❤️

view 11, 376 comments

username1: OMG OMG AHHHHHHH 😱😱

alexiaputellas: congratulations you two! Cannot wait! I will be favourite Tia!

^

marialeonn16: No I Will Be!

^

onabatlle: honestly I think I will be ☺️

^

y/n: @losada_vicky baby, I am just realising how many aunts this child is going to have. 😂

^

lucybronze: They're all idiots I will be the favourite aunt! 😌😌

username2: English and Spanish national teams as aunts, jesus some people just live the life I dream!

^

username3: This baby is going to be so loved holy shit

^

username4: And the entire Brighton team as well!

leahwilliamsonn: HOLY SHIT AHHHHH ❤️❤️

_bethmead: SO EXCITEDDDDD ! ❤️❤️

keirawalsh: so proud and excited !!! 💙☺️

username5: :( I miss her playing already 😭

y/n: Can't express how much I love you, I am so excited! Serás una mamá fantástica.

you will be a fantastic mama

^

losada_vicky: I love you and our baby so much

^

username6: I am not crying you are.

ellatoone: I AM CRYING OMG 🩷

^

alessiarusso99: HONESTLY SAME 🩷

^

mbrighty04: SAME

^

racheldaly3: SAME

^

khiara.k98: SAME

^

lj10: same

^

y/n: I love you all so much xoxo

^

lucybronze: @lj10 you ruined the 'SAME' chain there mate with your lazy lowercase

^

lj10: 🖕🏾🖕🏾

^

lucybronze: 😚😚

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on her close friends story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

losada_vicky just posted on her close friends story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

losada_vicky just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

END

flufffffffff

kinda love this, kinda don't

meh

-

Queenie xx

[h3ad-quarters]

//ooc

HQ DESIGN AND LORE POST !!!! HERE WE GO!!

all information will be under the cut!

also click images for better quality i swear these aren't compressed

hey i made another version with NOTES lets go !!!!

alright, lets first get into whats actually on his design.

Grey hairs

He's been working this job for years, and even longer at UrbanShade. he's seen quite a lot in his time working for the company so he's started to develop quite a few grey hairs.

Headset

How he communicates with the rest of UrbanShade and the Blacksite! Acting as his own portable radio station he can tune in to just about any frequency with the headset and talk to almost everyone he needs to. He also often uses this headset to access the PA system. the thing is nearly glued to his head at all times

Stubble

He has varying degrees of stubble at almost all times, he doesn't often get a change to shave and when he does its for meetings with his own bosses, otherwise he never has a smooth face

Tie Clip

the clip on his tie actually has a practical use believe it or not, mostly just being used to hold onto his keycard or personnel ID if its ever needed.

Finger-less glove

It.. it just looks cool. idk fhjds

Combat boots

even though HQ works a desk job pretty much he still comes equip for any scenario, while for the most part he is safe in his location at ▉▉▉▉▉ the extra precaution is never going to hurt

"casual" attire

while he does dress in a pretty decent suit provided by UrbanShade he's never actually seen wearing it properly, deciding its much more practical to put comfort over the uniform if he works alone in a room all day.

Sticker

Pride flag sticker.

alright, now for some extra lore/headcanons for him!

I wont share everything, somethings you'll have to find out by talking to him ;p

He will almost never refer to any Z-Class by anything but their Z-Class designation (ex. only calling Sebastian Z-13)

He is actually one of many peoples Higher ups, his exact role in UrbanShade is unknown but what is known is that he is many peoples boss, he has a lot more power behind the scenes than many people realize.

His real, legal name is mostly unknown to anyone below him, almost everyone just knows him by HQ.

However, it's been discovered that his first name is Rasmus

He has an Orange/white cat named Dodgeball

He is Danish

Dodgeball headcanons below!

This !! Is the headcanon for dodgeball!

A purebred hymalaya cat!

The cat in the photo was actually mine, his name was Tiny and he is unfortunately no longer with us. But I'm going to immortalise his memory in my silly little hq blog !

[supercorpkid]

Powergirl Should Die

Supergirl. Powergirl. B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, Winn Schott.

Word Count: 2550.

Porwergirl should die. Someone should kill her.

The suit is skin tight, it clings so forcefully onto you as if it's trying to become part of you. But this other skin, just simply doesn’t fit right over your bones. 

There is a huge House of El crest over your chest, in its golden glory. It weighs down on your skin, heavy and sacred. It should help you feel at ease. It doesn’t. It feels like it’s burning your skin like a branding iron. 

Kryptonian? 

Yes. 

Super powers? 

Yes. 

You’re a superhero. Next, please!

Kara stands tall next to you, hand on your shoulder. “Would you look at that,” your sister smiles brightly at you. “Mother and father would be so proud of you, mini me.”

Kara has called you that your whole life, but you never felt so little as you do right now. You've also never felt so much like Kara. Crumpled up inside this supersuit to fit someone else’s dream. You don’t think your parents would be very proud of you now.

“Kara, this feels odd.” You try to lift the suit from your skin, that is so snuggled up it barely leaves you room to breathe. “I-I look like you.”

“I know!” She proudly squeaks. “I asked Winn to only change the colors. How do you feel about the white, red and blue?”

“Like a walking American flag.” You wince at the thought. You like the white, it’s a little more sober than the blue in Kara's suit, it also reminds you of the vest you used to wear back in Krypton. The red cape feels like they've ripped a piece of Kara’s and placed it on your back. The high blue boots are uncomfortable and the matching gloves are just plain stupid.

“You certainly don’t look like one.” Alex chimes in from behind you, and you turn around, sick of the sight of you in the mirror. “Honestly sis, I like this suit. I think it might be even better than Kara’s.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, mine has history.”

“Yours is a copy of Superman’s.”

“That’s what I mean, history.”

You watch your sister’s bickering with faint attention because they both would never say how ridiculous you look with this dull, hideous, comical outfit.

But it didn’t matter how foolish you looked, or how stupid you felt. There was no way out of this. Kara said you looked perfect and Alex agreed. J’onn, who’s been the closest thing to a father to you on this planet, gave you a stiff smile when asked what he thought. He could read your mind, remember? That’s what he thought about it. And Winn was just over the moon with his creation. No way out. From that day on, you’re Powergirl.

It hasn’t been long since you started being Powergirl. You’re still not the most prominent face of the Supers, thank God for that. You do the easy jobs while Kara takes on the real bad guys. You follow her lead. Obey to what Alex tells you to do over the comm that is permanently stuck in your ear. As if you couldn’t hear her from miles and miles away.

But with every passing day, it becomes even more obvious to you that you were really not cut out for this superhero life. Not good at it. Not happy with it. Not fit for it.

The very opposite of Kara, actually. Because Kara fits everywhere and with everyone. She fits perfectly in her suit, with her alias. Perfectly at her job at CatCo, as a news reporter. And ever since she landed on Earth she created her perfect family, story, life on this planet. 

You, on the other hand, wish everyday you were still at Krypton. You are well aware that if you stayed behind, that if your parents hadn't made Kara snuggle your smaller form against her own body on that pod, you would have exploded. You wouldn't be alive today. And you wish people knew you don't want to be dead, you just wish your planet hadn't exploded in the first place.

Sure Kara feels the same. Yet she makes a name for herself and gives back to this planet that took you both in so willingly, that gave you both powers because of its sun. Kara is just different.

"Mother would want us to use our powers for good." She would whisper to you in the dark, whenever the Danvers would tell you to not use your powers. Whenever they asked you to fit in completely. "Father spent so much time trying to stop our planet from deteriorating, don't you think that if he had powers he would use them to make that happen?"

She would ask you questions that didn't feel like questions. That required no answers at all. Kara would tell you what she knew about them, use them as arguments to explain to you (convince even) why you had to become a superhero too. 

And you would lay there in the dark, after your sister was asleep, looking at the long dead stars, and wondering whether she was right. Whether that was your parents' plans all along or just a sad coincidence.

"Powergirl." You hear Kara's voice early in the morning while you're still trying to brew yourself a cup of coffee. "I need you for a second."

"It's too early in the morning and I have to get ready for work." You press on your comm to answer. "Can't you deal with it alone?"

"Hm, no. I need you to come here now." 

You let out a huge sigh, trying to ease your own mind. Coffee will wait, you guess. You're out of your pj's, into your suit, and out of the house in a blur. You stop next to Kara while she stares at a billboard.

"What?" You can't help the harshness of your tone as you see no emergency around her.

Kara says nothing. Only points at the billboard and you finally take note of it. Written in large red colors, the sentence: Powergirl should die.

Huh.

"It seems that you have an enemy." Kara says when time enough has passed for you to read the sentence over a few times. "Don't worry, we'll catch them."

Cute. It's your first thought. It's almost like someone wrote you a love letter, au contraire. 

Kara makes an effort to tear it all down, destroy the billboard before anyone sees it. You don't help her, stuck inside your own mind, replaying the words in your head. 

"No need to worry." She assures you, hand on your shoulder to get you out of your trance. "No one will do you any harm, mini me. I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"Thanks, Kar." You look at your watch on your wrist. "Work calls." And so you fly home.

You try to lodge that sentence in the back of your mind. You don't wanna seem stressed out, even though you are. But showing how actually worried you are about it, and with the fact that someone is coming for you, it's inconceivable. 

Kara would worry. Alex would stress. Ooof, you can see it all playing out. Sleepovers and excuses for you to miss work and hang at the DEO headquarters so they can keep an eye on you, until you're feeling suffocated.

No, no. You can't go through that. It's been a while since you and your sisters shared a bedroom. You don't think you three can do that again now that you're grown ups. 

It happens again. You don't see it, but you hear the agents commenting about it, a couple days later. They get muted the second you fly in the DEO, which is not only annoying but foolish. You do have super hearing after all.

"So, where was it this time?" You ask Alex, while she tries to avoid looking at you. 

"Where's what?" She tries, and you furrow your brows.

"Winn, put it on the monitor." You ask coming closer. Winn looks at Alex as if asking for permission, but you don't give her time to deny him. "Come on, I heard the agents. I'm still Kryptonian even if I'm not a Super."

Winn huffs. "On the tallest building of National City." The photo goes up on the large TV in front of you, and you swallow deep.

Powergirl should die. 

"Y/N," Alex talks in a low tone so the agents around can't hear her. "it's not personal."

"Looks personal." You cross your arms, turning your back at the TV. "Someone wanting me dead sounds like it's as personal as it can get."

"Supergirl is looking into it, I promise we'll catch whoever did this."

"Alex, please." You pass her on your way to the training room. "You know damn well my favorite thing about you is that you don't lie."

"You've lost too many punching bags." You hear a voice behind your back, and you breathe deep before turning around.

"Just training a little." You look at the number of destroyed bags by your feet and decide that it's true, there's too many, even though that's what they're here for. 

"Alex told me about the message." Kara approaches you slowly, trying to test the territory. She can see your distress, but doesn't know the extent of it. And she won't, because you're definitely going to fake it.

"Yeah, tall building. They got the writing off quickly, though. So no major problems."

"Honey," Kara's voice is even sweeter now, if that's possible. "I'll catch them. I'll be patrolling tonight. No one's coming for you."

"I'm not worried." You smile at your lie, or half of lie for what it's worth. Knowing that Kara will be patrolling the city helps. You know your sister would never let anything bad happen to you. And it's very unlikely that anyone on this planet could easily defeat two Kryptonians.

Kara also smiles, and brings you into her arms for a hug. And you breathe out, calmer. Kara's arms have kept you safe from many perils. Spaceship lost in space, new planet, new school, new job. Surely she can keep you safe again.

You don't feel safe, though, when you wake up to a familiar voice far away. You rub the sleep from your eyes, well awake, paying close attention to a conversation you weren't invited to be a part of.

"Alex, I went around the city, there's no new wri-"

"Kara? What was that?"

There it was, in big red letters the sentence that has been haunting you for days. Powergirl should die. And under it new words' been added, someone should kill her.

"I found new writing." Kara's voice comes a second later. "It's worse this time."

"Take a picture so we can compare the handwriting and get back here."

"I have to clean this up." But before Kara even has the chance to, you're flying next to her in front of the L Corp building. "Y/N! What are you doing here?"

You move closer to the building to investigate. The ink is still wet, it wasn't done too long ago. You look around trying to find cameras. It's Lena's building, you're sure there are cameras everywhere. You spot one with a direct view.

"Mini me-" Kara tries.

"Go to work Supergirl, I'll deal with this. Someone wanting me dead is my problem." It's always been your problem, you are aware. But Kara promised you, you had nothing to worry about. Promised she would patrol the city. Promised she would protect you. And yet, here it is, in big block red letters.

"But-"

"I got it, Kara. Can you just believe in me?"

"Y/N, you know I do. I just wanna help."

"I don't need help." You clench your jaw, tired of being treated like a little girl. Like a mini Kara instead of your own person. "I'm Kryptonian too."

Cheap shot? Maybe. Definitely. You throw it, anyway. 

You clean the writing then fly home to suit up. You can't face Lena without it. Another secret that only makes you hate your secret identity as hard. Lying to your friends, sneaking out, it's all stressing and there's literally no reward high enough worth of all this.

"Lena."

"Oh shit." Lena's hand goes to her chest after her obvious scare. You can hear her heart almost beating out of her chest. "It's too early for bad news, Powergirl."

"Trust me, I agree with that." You breathe out, trying to give her a smile. It comes out flat. "I was wondering if I could look into one of your surveillance cameras. There was some writing on this building this morning, I would very much like to know who's responsible."

"Writing? I - I didn't see anything when I came in."

"Good. I cleaned it as fast as possible." You point at her computer and she breathes deep as if she is agreeing with you. 

It doesn't take long for the images to be up, and you two to be carefully reversing the filming until Lena sees you and Kara flying in front of it, and read the words herself. She looks up to you and quirks up an eyebrow, in question.

"Currently unsure if someone is threatening me or if this is just general knowledge being passed on." 

"People don't want you dead, you're a superhero!" Lena argues. "Maybe Lex, but he's currently serving his time."

"Clearly not everyone agrees with you." You point back at the words on her computer.

"It's awful." She admits, even though she doesn't fully trust you or Kara yet. "Wait, wait. There."

You can't see a thing. One minute is there, the other isn't. You slow down the images, trying to see any detail. Lena soon takes over and slows down as much as she can. That's when you see it, just a tiny flash of red. You hold your breath. Thankfully, Lena hasn't noticed it.

"How's this possible? There's no one." 

"Seems that I'll have to patrol the city myself tonight." You're almost leaving Lena's office when you turn around one more time. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Luthor."

"I was barely of any help at all." Lena points at the computer as proof and you give her a smile.

"Au contraire, darling. You showed me everything I needed to see." You wink at her, then fly out.

You march inside the DEO, positive on your plan. No one is talking you out of it, that's for sure.

Winn tries to argue that it is illogical for you to just give yourself to your enemy. He gets ignored. Alex argues that as a DEO agent she can't let you do this, and as your older sister she would be insane to leave you alone in this situation. You don't budge. Kara pulls out the big guns, her promise to mother and father, her duty as your protector, how you're the only connection she still has with Krypton, her love for you and so on. Her cries fall on deaf ears.

So at night, you fly around National City watching and studying everyone in it, even though you know you should only be looking for one person. One person with superspeed, a red cape and a big motive.

[trivialbob]

Yesterday I had a great time in Wisconsin.

Early in the morning I cooked a traditional eggs and sausage breakfast. When I finished eating I walked around the campground, talking to people. I crossed paths with a lot of nice people this weekend. During my walk a group of campers were cooking eggs and bacon outside. Despite having just eaten a similar big breakfast the smell made me feel hungry again.

Eventually I drove to town to re-fill the propane tank. When I buy propane at home I pay a cashier first then show an attendant my receipt before he fills the tank. At the place in Wisconsin the owner (I think he was) came outside. I asked if I should pay before he filled or while he filled the tank.

"You can pay now if you want. Or you can talk with me while I fill the tank," he replied.

Being who I am, asked all sorts of questions about his experiences filling propane tanks while he filled mine. He seemed to genuinely appreciate my interest. There were no horror stories. He explained how he inspects the tank's date of manufacture and makes sure it's safe to re-fill. Back home I've never noticed the attendant pay much attention to the tank, nor is he into small talk either.

After that I went down the road to the place our friends own for a bloody Mary and a small pizza. I like the garnish in a separate glass and the chaser. I looked over several side-by-sides in the parking lot, including one flying two large American flags (the pictures at the top).

After lunch I returned to the campground -- and took a two hour nap. Why not. It felt like vacation. When I got up I met more people at the campground. It's been only two weekends but I'm very happy Sheila chose this place for a year.

Then I went on a bicycle ride. Because I was on some 45-55 MPH roads I wore a hi-viz jacket and had all my blinky lights going.

Almost everyone who drove towards me waived. Drivers who passed me gave wide berth. Two farmers on tractors subtly waved and nodded their heads my way. That made me smile. Approaching an Amish buggy, I figured the woman and boy in it might not appreciate my bright, flashy garb and blinking lights. But they smiled brightly and waved. That really made me grin.

In the evening I went to a different small town, the one I had been to the previous night. I was keen on having a beer at the bar that shares my first name.

First picture below is a sign on the way into town that I found amusing. Second picture is inside Mr. Bob's bar.

I should have taken a selfie, to show EXACTLY how many customers were in there at 6 PM. Later someone told me Mr. Bob's doesn't get busy until late at night. The bartender was a decent woman, but I felt she looked at me like "Why the heck are you here so early? Now I have to stop what I'm doing to serve you." It's not like I woke up the owner to serve me beer at 7 AM. I should have asked why they don't simply unlock the doors at 10 PM.

Since there was no one to chat with at Mr. Bob's I went around the corner to a taproom I had on my list of places to try. I was not disappointed.

There are 20 beers on tap. Not one of them has Light in the name. I chose a flight of four.

Next summer, sometime when Sheila drives, I plan to order the Dirty Knapp. It's served in that large, Swiss-cheese-looking circle below. For $48 you get a four-ounce beer from each of the 20 taps. That's five pints. I'm not a college student any more, but I think I can pull it off if I skip lunch and dinner :)

At the bar I sat with two other guys my age and a younger woman. The bartender was funny. The five of us laughed pretty hard while telling stories.

Because I had to drive back in the dark, along deer-infested county roads, I didn't drink any more beer after that flight. I was having so much fun talking to the others I didn't want to leave. So I tried some non-alcoholic drinks. I've seen hop water before, just never tried it. I liked it. It reminded me of some odd flavor of La Croix. I also had a non-alcoholic IPA. It tasted like real beer without making me buzzed.

To complete my night, some neighbors invited me to join them and their friends around a camp fire. More laughter and stories.

Fun times. I'm looking forward to going back a few more times before we have to winterize the trailer.

[thegirlmirage]

Whatever I personally think about a user isn't super important but just to throw in my review of transphobia I've received on this site:

- I got so many death threats from asking for money for my HRT that I had to shut down my campaign. No bans made that I'm aware of.

- more than once a post of mine has been picked up by TERFs or other open fascists who have collectively harassed me and sent death threats - no bans - I had to rally my own response to that

- attempted to blaze a post for my transition fund and it was blocked despite earlier posts making it through

- I've watched many important posts for the trans community, especially depicting transition, real or artistic, get flagged

- the "porn ban" that is actually a sex ban. Gender and sexuality are often crossed together and they knew that when they banned it because that's what they've been chasing down since. If I want to talk about the sexual changes I've been experiencing with HRT there's a strong chance that'll be two reasons why my post and potentially account will be banned because I've seen it happen countless times

- TERF is such a protected status on Tumblr that they have their own circles, their own tags, and it's pulling in children to that ideology which on the surface should absolutely be against site rules. The fact no action is taken is the most absolute clear indication of this sites support of fascism and hatred of trans people

- the big fucking wizard hat when the transphobic game was being released. What the fuck was that?

Anyway there's more I'm sure but I've been called a lot of things on this site that I've not been called anywhere else. The Queer solidarity that should exist on this site is constantly under threat because of how much fascist ideology is allowed to spread and how much anything else is ruthlessly policed. Even if that's somehow an accident it's still having an incredibly noticeable effect. The persistent feeling from me and other trans people is that this site has been trying to remove us entirely for some time. But trans people have always existed and always will

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Nostalgic Memories Date (Eng Translation)

“You’re my first.”

“You’re my first, too.”

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 旧忆之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

─  

【Subbed Video】    

[Heads-up]: Read the transcript for reading, but  PLEASE DO WATCH THE VIDEO!! THE BGMS, THE VOICE ACTING, EVERYTHING!! (also, yes, I’ve made my real-time reactions 🤪)

───────

【Transcript Version】

【Chapter 1】

Not long ago, Victor received a commemorative book.

The sender is his alma mater, Loveland Central Elementary School, which is about to celebrate its 100th anniversary.

The book is filled with old photos of his school. With unending excitement, I relentlessly search for that familiar figure among them.

Little Victor holding up his award certificates with a composed demeanor, hoisting the national flag with aplomb, or standing on the winner’s podium during the sports meet… all these are images of him I haven’t seen before.

MC: Model student, flag-raiser, long-distance running gold medalist… how many more surprises does this man have in store that I still don’t know about?

?? (Victor): What are you muttering to yourself this time?

I look up and find that Victor has entered the bedroom without me noticing.

MC: I can’t help but feel sentimental~ After all, you were that “kid from someone else’s family” when we were little.

–

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is “别人家的小孩,” I guess you’ll understand this better if you are an Asian/ of Asian descendance/ have Asian parents LOL; it’s often used to describe how parents spur their own kids into working harder by often mentioning “the other kid” as a role model who usually excels in many aspects~ :> And MC playfully follows this with– he belongs to her/ they’re a family now. So, she can take pride that “the prized boy” is all hers 🤣💕 (aside from the obvious knife about MC being regretful of missing out on each other’s lives, which comes later~ 🥲)

–

Victor: Someone else’s family?

Watching his cool and collected expression as he arches an eyebrow, I cheekily walk up to him.

MC: Hehe, but now you’re mine~

As I notice him smiling slightly, I can’t help but be insatiable and pull him along to join me in flipping through the photo album.

We have just flipped through a few photos of the “Campus Singing Competition” when the person beside me seems to have seen something, causing his pupils to quiver ever so slightly.

Following his gaze, I catch a glimpse of a young kid with dramatic stage makeup, sporting a red dot on the space between his brows.

Before I can take a closer look, the commemorative book in front of me is abruptly snapped shut.

MC: Wait!

Hastily, I clutch his hand down and carefully inspect the photo. There is actually a small caption below it that reads–– “Little Victor, photographed by Dad”

Astounded, I snatch the book and examine it closely–– the child’s solemn expression, with furrowed brows, is unmistakably identical to that of a certain someone I know so well.

I stare at Victor in utter disbelief, while he seems to have already resigned himself and closed his eyes.

MC: Hahahaha–– you’re so cute, hahaha!

Victor: …stop laughing, give me back the book.

MC: Alright, but you have to agree to one condition of mine.

Victor: ...you sure know how to make demands.

MC: Don’t want to agree? Well, then I might just turn you into an emoji pack, huh?

Victor takes a deep breath as if he has reached the limit of his patience. He then takes out his phone, quickly taps on the screen, and holds it to his ear.

Victor: I had planned to bring a certain someone along to visit the school when I’d sign the contract to donate to the school building.

Victor: But since the photos seem enough to satisfy you, I think I’m gonna talk to the school about reducing your title to a colleague.

Hearing his words, I immediately grab his arm, displaying a sincere expression.

MC: Why didn’t you tell me about the building donation before? I’m not laughing anymore, I promise!

He arches an eyebrow and moves his phone a few inches away, as if waiting for me to offer a bigger bargaining chip.

I narrow my eyes and steel myself.

MC: I’ll give you three of my embarrassing childhood photos!

Victor: Deal.

Hearing a muffled chuckle in my ears, I suddenly realize what’s going on. I seize his phone and, sure enough, find that the screen is still locked.

MC: …you’re so childish, Victor!

Despite my reproach, he remains composed and raps my head.

Victor: He who touches ink becomes black, you know?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Victor: …wish strips?

An old metal box is gently placed on the table, inside of which is stacked with many pieces of weathered papers, tinged with a yellow hue.

After the completion of the donation contract signing, only three people remain in the empty conference room— the two of us and the principal.

Principal: When I learned that you were coming back, I inquired with your homeroom teacher about anything that might have been left behind from back then, and she really found it.

Even as I try hard to focus my attention on their conversation, an inevitably innate urge drives me to reach out and flip through the wish strips with my fingers, looking for a certain one.

Soon, a weathered piece of paper catches my eyes, with meticulously and neatly penned six letters that form the name “Victor.”

However, before I can reach my hand for it, a large hand with slender fingers lands on top of the paper––

Forced by the seriousness of the atmosphere we are in now, I can do nothing but watch helplessly as Victor nonchalantly slips the note into his pocket.

Victor: If there’s anything else you need help with in the future, please feel free to contact me again.

Principal: Thank you, Little Vic. Despite your remarkable achievements in the outside world, you still haven’t forgotten your alma mater.

–

[Tidbits]: I’m freaking crying, haha–– look at his Principal still calling this grown-ass man “小李 (Xiao Li)” aksdknld– the sheer adoration you can’t let go of despite the admiration a person has achieved from you– 🥺 

–

Victor: You’re too kind. On a different note, I wish to take my girlfriend on a tour of the school later. I wonder if it would be convenient?

Principal: Absolutely! You two are welcome to wander around and have a good time.

–

It’s summer vacation, and the campus is absolutely empty.

The continuous symphony of cicadas seems to transport me through countless summers, carrying me to the past that belongs to him.

Hand in hand, we walk beneath the shade of the sycamore tree, retracing the journey captured in old photos, from the faintly plastic-scented crimson athletic track to the library, and eventually arriving at his former classroom.

–

MC: Where would you sit back then?

Seeing him pointing to a seat in the back row, I press against the window frame and peer inside, yearning to glimpse that small figure across the boundaries of time and space.

MC: Do you have any special memory from your elementary school days?

Victor: What do you mean by special?

MC: Copying homework? Not paying attention in class? Or maybe… puppy love?

It seems like he’s heard something that displeased him; a slight frown creeps onto his face, and he gives me a subtle, scrutinizing look.

Victor: [strikes immediately LMFAO]  Your elementary school life was this eventful and colorful? It seems like I underestimated you a little.

MC: Of course not; I didn’t do anything of the sort! I’m just simply curious about your school life~

Victor: It was like any regular elementary school student’s life–– attending classes, doing homework after school, and occasionally playing soccer. Nothing out of the ordinary–– 

Suddenly, the sound of a series of brisk footsteps interrupts his words. Before long, two kids carrying backpacks appear at the far end of our sight.

Little Boy: Did you check? If you forget to bring your homework again, I won’t come with you next time.

Little Girl: I’ve really brought it this time! Where should we go to do our homework today?

Little Boy: The library.

Little Girl: But we need to stay quiet in the library, and I won’t be able to talk with you there.

Little Boy: …let’s go to the burger joint then.

Watching their departing figures from behind, I tug at the corner of Victor’s clothes.

MC: Have you ever done homework together with other kids?

Victor: Might have done some group assignments at some point.

MC: With you sitting next to them, their study efficiency must have gotten a massive boost. I’m really envious of those classmates who had the chance to do homework with you…

Hearing me say this, Victor’s face takes on a curious and contemplative expression.

Victor: Don’t be envious. I’ve got an idea.

MC: What do you have in mind?

Victor: It just so happens that I have to work tonight. You can bring in your unfinished proposal, and we can “do homework” together.

MC: …I’ll pass. Even a dummy can tell the difference between a friendly invitation and being supervised by a capitalist.

As we are talking, I see the kids from earlier run out of the convenience store in front of the school gate.

With delight on their faces, they share a pack of crisp instant noodles. The savory and crispy aroma from afar feels as if it reaches the tip of my teeth as well.

Just like me, Victor turns his head toward the source of the noise. Upon seeing his reaction, I immediately reach out and take his hand.

MC: Wanna go to the convenience store? It’s my treat!

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

The store is not big, but it boasts a diverse selection of snacks arranged on the shelves.

However, my eyes are drawn to a seemingly ordinary pack of candy tucked away in the corner. Memories of my elementary school days rush back, when this candy was all the rage for playing pranks, and I also couldn’t resist tasting it once myself––

Even at this very moment, the fast secretion of saliva in my mouth is a vivid reminder of its “special” flavor.

Filled with curiosity, I pick up the candy and shake it at Victor.

MC: This candy used to be so popular back in the day. Have you ever tried it?

Victor: Nope, I haven’t.

MC: Your childhood is missing just a little something, then.

Victor: If being a glutton is your yardstick, you probably had the most complete childhood in the whole world.

Listening to his playful banter, I silently make up my mind to tease him a little. I grab the candy and settle the bill.

Just imagining the look on his face when he tastes the sourness makes me involuntarily curl my lips into a smile. However, realizing that his gaze is fixed on my face, I hasten to temper my smile.

MC: Victor, may I fill in the missing pieces of your childhood?

Victor: No need.

Ignoring his attempt to decline with a shake of his head, I affectionately bring a candy close to his lips.

MC: Come on, give me some face! I never asked any boy students out for snacks back when I was in school. You’re my first.

Upon hearing my words, his motions pause momentarily, and he stares at me fixedly with downcast eyes.

Just when I think he’s going to reject me again, he softly lets his lips part, lowers his head, and eats the candy from my hand.

I instantly widen my eyes, not wanting to miss any nuance of his expression. But all I see him is chewing the candy nonchalantly without any changes in his demeanor.

This isn’t right… could they have changed the recipe? Puzzled, I pop a candy into my mouth, but as soon as it touches my tongue, I grimace from the sourness.

MC: Sss! So sour!

Victor seems to can’t hold back and bursts into laughter.

Victor: Mmm, it’s indeed sour.

MC: You did that on purpose!

As my indignant glare meets his eyes, he arches an eyebrow in response.

Victor: You sure have a talent for turning the tables. But speaking of doing it on purpose—

Victor: Back when I was in school, I never teased or played with any girl students, either. You’re my first, too.

The candy in my mouth still gives rise to an unending stream of sourness, yet I can distinctly taste a sweet flavor.

Victor: So happy that you’re in a silly daze?

Upon hearing his teasing, I  realize I’ve been rooted to the spot and giggling like a silly person this whole time. I quickly pretend to be composed and divert the topic.

MC: I was thinking that we visited all the locations where each of the old photos was taken, except for one that slipped through the cracks!

MC: Where was that adorable picture of you with the red dot between your brows taken?

Victor: Why do you always apply your surplus obsession in places where it’s not necessary?

MC: Humph, it took me so much effort to get you to bring me here. Even if I have to dig the school three feet deep today, I’ll definitely find it!

Seeing me steadfastly staring at him, he lets out a sigh and helplessly takes my hand.

Victor: My alma mater had to spend so much effort to reach the lifespan of a hundred years. I’m not letting it be dug up by you.

—

We’re obviously supposed to be searching for the location of the photo. However, Victor brings me back to his old family home, which is currently empty.

Before I can even ask anything, my gaze is captivated by a rather extravagant box of jewelry on the foyer table.

As I let out a small gasp of surprise, Victor also glances over, and his expression turns somewhat speechless.

Victor: Aunt Grace purchased these during her trip abroad. She said you might get tired of seeing me in formal attire, so I should occasionally change things up…

MC: Pfftt! Why didn’t she just send them to you directly?

Victor: Because I declined. She probably planned to take a roundabout approach and ask my dad for help.

MC: Well, that works out perfectly. There’s no need to bother Uncle.

I “obligingly” pat my chest as an expression of “taking responsibility” and put the ornaments in my bag.

MC: But you didn’t especially bring me here just to pick this up, right?

Victor shoots me a wordless glance and then points toward the flower house ahead.

–

Victor: Not just the head is slow, the eyes are slow too.

MC: Hey, you meanie…

After a few seconds, I’m suddenly taken aback, my eyes widening. I pull out the photo from the commemorative book and compare it to the flower house before my eyes. To my surprise, it turns out to be exactly the same.

MC: This photo was actually taken at home?

Victor: After I came back from the performance, the teacher notified us that we needed to take a photo.

MC: But I thought you would remove your makeup right after the performance!

Victor: You’re right. I did wipe it off as soon as I got off the stage. But my dad deliberately used a red seal ink paste to reapply that dot.

Seeing the awkward look on his face, I can’t resist the urge to tease him and fish out the lipstick from my bag.

MC: How is it fair if you just make do with a red seal ink paste? Since the other kids have it on, you should too.

Victor: …I should not have told you.

He firmly grasps my unruly hand, but I use my left hand to snatch the lipstick and persistently keep inching closer to him. At this point, I’m practically draped onto his body.

Just as the lipstick is about to touch his forehead, he suddenly looks behind me.

Victor: Dad, you’re back.

I jump off him in a panic, and with my eyes closed, I immediately bow towards the entrance.

MC: Hello, Uncle!

After waiting for quite a considerable amount of time without any response, I’m beginning to feel slightly puzzled when I hear a soft chuckle from above me.

Victor: Turns out that there are still ways to restrain a certain someone’s out-of-control unruliness.

I raise my head and see that there is no one at the entrance.

Seeing the smirk of triumph in his eyes, I let out a “humph” and decide to turn the tables against him. At this moment, I coincidentally spot the wish strip peeking out from his pocket because of our earlier playful fooling around.

But he’s guessed my intentions, and almost simultaneously, he presses his fingertips on the slip of paper along with me. This results in a brief standoff as neither of us releases our hold.

The silent confrontation lasts for a few seconds until I pout, and that’s when I hear him let out a resigned sigh of compromise. I finally have my wish fulfilled and get my hands on his wish strip.

The paper has already yellowed and become brittle, but the carefully and neatly written words haven’t faded even a bit during the overlong passage of time––

“I want to grow up fast so that I can find her.”

Caught off guard by intruding into the “secret” of his past, I somehow feel a mixture of indescribable emotions flooding my heart.

How come he never mentioned to me that he had such a wish before? I can’t help but lift my eyes to look into his.

And he stares at me for a long, long time, as if he too wants to glean something from my expression. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t utter a single word even after a long time passes by.

Seeing him hesitate like this, I decide to be the one to break the silence first.

MC: Haha, I didn’t expect your wish to be so sincere and honest.

MC: But don’t worry, who didn’t have some little secrets in their childhood? I’ll just pretend I didn’t see it!

Victor: Little secret?

He doesn’t seem to have expected me to say this, causing him to evidently be stunned for a moment. But soon, a glint of playfulness sparks in his eyes.

Victor: Well, that’s a shame. I was originally going to share it with you, but since a certain dummy isn’t curious––

Victor: I guess I’ll just have to leave it be.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

He has really done what he said, not uttering a single word of explanation.

He even seems to be in high spirits as he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet, as if he does not feel my indignant glare fixed on him at all.

Victor: Let’s celebrate together.

MC: Celebrate what?

Victor: I’m really lucky; my wish has come true.

With a hint of tenderness crested between his eyebrows and in his eyes, he uncorks the wine bottle. “Pop”–– the celebration begins, but I feel as if it’s my heart that has begun to deflate.

I push down the bitter feelings in my heart and take a sip of my drink.

MC: Congratulations to you, then.

Victor: Why does this “congratulations” sound a bit like you’re saying it against your will?

Being relentlessly pressed by his step-by-step advances while he is greatly amused, I suddenly feel a mix of embarrassment and anger soaring into my chest.

MC: How should I congratulate you then? Do you want me to take a photo of you for comparison to prove that you’ve grown up properly, just as you wished?

Victor: Sure, how do you plan to take the photo for me?

Originally, it was just an impulsive remark I made out of anger. But his reply suddenly causes me to choke, rendering me momentarily speechless. I can’t help but feel a little itch in my teeth.

However, upon glancing at the extravagant jewelry box in my bag, I narrow my eyes.

The next second, I push him onto the couch and start “hanging” all the jewelry on him without even asking him.

Victor: …are you decorating a Christmas tree?

MC: Since we are taking new photos in the once familiar place, you naturally have to dress up enough like an adult to give them the true value of commemoration.

However, I gradually realize that the ornaments on him don’t look over the top at all; instead, they make him look even more exquisite.

Seeing this, I wickedly pull open a section of his collar, exposing a large expanse of sculpted muscles that charges into my eyes. I can’t help but gulp at the sight.

Victor: Is this how a certain dummy defines an adult?

MC: Why? Can’t I do this?

Hearing his soft chuckle, I huff in anger as I mutter under my breath.

The next second, my wrist is clasped in place, and I find myself falling into his arms. That familiar scent of his hems me tightly.

Victor: Of course you can. But I think there’s still a bit of room for enhancement.

His warm breath grazes my ear now and then, making my heartbeat accelerate involuntarily.

Realizing that my chance to counterattack is slipping through the cracks, I inwardly compose myself and tilt my head slightly, forcefully suppressing my racing heartbeat.

Aiming my gaze at the lipstick on the table, I immediately come up with a plan.

MC: You’re absolutely right; there’s still room for enhancement. It was my bad. I still need to mark you like an adult––

I grab the lipstick and apply several thick coats on my lips, then seal it with a big kiss on his cheek.

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, seemingly evident that he didn’t anticipate my move at all. After a brief moment, he just casually leans back against the couch.

Victor: Have you finished all your preparations for taking the photo?

Looking at his face painted with the mark of my kiss, I nod in satisfaction.

He raises an eyebrow at my reaction, then pulls me closer to him once again.

Victor: Now it’s my turn.

Victor: Photos that hold the true value of commemoration should be taken alongside the witness testimony who made my wish come true.

MC: Witness testimony? Me?

Victor: Is there a third person here?

Victor rubs his temples helplessly, but the smile hanging at the edge of his lips seems to validate the daring conjecture harbored in the depths of my heart.

MC: The “her” you wrote about in your wish strip… it’s me?

Victor: You dummy, who else could it possibly be except you?

Without a moment’s hesitation, he admits it candidly.

In this instant, my heart feels as if it has been drenched.

The mottled wish strip in front of me is akin to the tip of an iceberg I have somehow peered into. It reminds me that in places I’ve never seen, millions of emotions lie buried that I still don’t know about and have yet to fathom.

And those deep eyes of his, which have been fixed on me all along, are so honest and sincere without the slightest concealment, make me surer than ever that––

The impact of our childhood encounter, the bond that forged our destinies together, perhaps runs much deeper than I had ever imagined it to be possible.

It turns out that I have already had my place in his past long ago.

By the time I speak again, my tone has already become joyful.

MC: Ah–– it turns out I had already become your heart’s desire so, so early on. I must have had quite the charm back when I was little, huh~

Victor: …I really underestimated how thick-skinned you can be.

He laughs involuntarily and watches me quietly for a while. The light in his gaze becomes even deeper and more earnest.

Victor: But MC, when I say “I’m lucky,” it’s not because I found the little girl from my past.

Victor: It’s because of the fortunate circumstance–– that little girl turned out to be you.

I instinctively find myself rooted to the spot, feeling a tingling itch sprouting in my heart, as if a wobbly little flower has blossomed within me.

It’s not until he takes hold of my hand that I finally snap out of it. Accompanied by the silky smooth touch of his fingertips, an English word takes form on the glass wall of the flower room –– Morii.

MC: What does it mean?

He lowers his gaze to look at me, his eyes seemingly concealing a subtle smile.

Victor: Originally, for me, those past days were nothing but ordinary moments, days that I would never want to look back on.

Victor: But the moment you stepped inside and looked around, those old times suddenly came to life again.

Victor: Perhaps it’s the gift of a certain dummy; you’ve always made me want to keep holding onto these moments that exist because of you.

His gentle voice is reminiscent of a feather landing in my heart, creating concentric ripples of waves.

I find myself unable to contain my giggle and lean in closer to him.

MC: Then let’s keep holding onto it.

He is slightly stumped for a moment but soon understands the meaning of my words and turns on the camera, aiming it at us. From beginning to end, those eyes of his gazing at me have held a perpetual interplay of tender and fervent glimmers.

Lifting myself up on my toes, I approach the figure that is also drawing closer to me.

Two throbbing hearts appear to have traversed the confines of endless dusty time, seeking solace in each other’s arms time and time again.

Right at this moment, the flash of the camera lights up.

────────

[Tidbits]: Didn’t wanna break the immersion, so kept it for the last here. The word Victor led MC to write together, i.e., “Morii” means the “desire to capture a fleeting moment that cannot be retained.” It’s basically the ephemeral nature of life, the reminder of everything inevitable. It’s like a time in which you expect the least, a time in which that moment spontaneously confronts you, but there is nothing you can do to preserve it— and the desire to do all you can to keep that moment to yourself is “Morii.” And if you know Victor and Victor x MC’s story, I’m sure you understand why it’s so important that they wrote it together, or rather MC instinctively followed his strokes without asking why— (இ﹏இ`｡)❤️

—

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

[Anika’s Long Analysis & Ramblings]

───

[morgana-ren]

There's this youtube video titled "Tav softly breaks up with evil Astarion" and it's driving me crazy. They fight, he tries to make up but even then says he would have "ruined your love, used your trust until you were nothing." How can anyone hear something like that and not go bonkers honestly

I looked for the video but I couldn't find it-- that being said, I actually did read something about that earlier somewhere (can't remember where) where he says that.

I think ascended Astarion is obviously incapable of love as we know it. When you really get down to the grit of it, possession is not love. Control is not love. Demanding someone stay by your side or else is not love. While these things are fun kink and fiction wise, they are massive red flags in real relationships.

I think that Astarion loves Tav in the only way that they are capable of loving them: By owning, possessing, controlling, and being obsessed with them-- and that is very obviously not love. It's a draining, horrific exchange where one partner gets everything and one gets nothing, and yes, it does use your love and trust until you are nothing. I speak from unfortunate experience.

I do believe that he loved her before he ascended, but what emerged from the other side was warped by the experience of being ascended. Instead of seeing a partner, he sees property that he is obsessed with and 'loves' in the way of that obsession.

Being in a relationship is equal, and ascended Astarion has made it clear that it will never be an equal partnership. He will always have the final say; the last laugh; the ultimate word. What Astarion wants, he gets, no matter what anyone, including his romantic partner, has to say about it. He was so petrified by his fear of vulnerability and loss that he turned it to stone when he ascended: He'll never feel those feelings again, but he'll never confront or heal from them either. Real love is vulnerability, and Astarion has made himself incapable of it. Again, showcased when trying to break up with him in the final scene. He just flat out says no. Not happening. You don't get to leave. You are mine.

Astarion loves Tav in their own way as much as they can... but it's not enough. It's twisted into some wretched perversion or mockery of it. A smart Tav would escape--

--and still be tracked down to the ends of Toril by her eternal vampire 'mate.'

[fantasyinvader]

So, Edelgard's agency. This has been a question that has been at the core of the discourse since the beginning: does Edelgard have any control over her own decisions? Was she under duress, or does her being gaslit by her father absolve her of her actions? Some have even suggested that the Flame Emperor be a split personality threatening to consume Edelgard, and I'll admit that a recent take of mine does sound like that.

However, when you look at the text of The Girl From Hresvelg, the song that was turned into Edge of Dawn, there's lines that imply that regrdlss of which class Byleth teaches Edelgard waivers about going through with the war because of her time at Garreg Mach. Being at the academy with other people is the implied cause for this, not Byleth being her teacher, much like how Claude is a lot more mellow than the shithead he is in Hopes. However, as the song progresses Edelgard tosses this all away in order to go through with the war.

You know, just like working with TWSITD, with Hopes showing she could just kick them to the curb if she wanted to, it was her choice to do so. Then there's how when Edelgard faces information that goes against what she believes, like the Agarthans having that much influence over the Empire and the Empire having abolished it's branch of the Church over a century ago, she chooses to ignore it. The Agarthans don't have a gun to her head, as it's clear from her reaction after Arianrhod that she has no idea about the Javelins of Light. Nor did they take away her free will, because Hopes showed us they could do that if they wanted to.

It all comes down to the choices Edelgard makes, just like how Snow and Flower are about the choices Byleth makes.

Sure, she's acting on information that the game heavily implies came from the Agarthans with the intent to manipulate her into going to war, but it was still her choice to go to war. It was ultimately Edelgard who turned Edelgard into the Flame Emperor. It doesn't matter if she thinks she's doing the right thing because of their manipulations, not when she's ignoring all the red flags that pop up. And on top of this, the text is very clear that Edelgard is also using them. Sure, the translation of Cornelia's death line makes it sound that Edelgard is simply their puppet, making it sound like all the bad shit she does in Flower is because of them before they're defeated after the war and Edelgard is made out to be a better leader (and that Rhea had it coming anyway). Flower still features Edelgard lying to her allies alongside clues that she's still a tyrant despite the liberties taken with the translation. The version of Edelgard Pat wanted to create is still undermined not just by the rest of the game but by Flower itself. And at the end of the day, it's still made out that was attempting to use TWSITD to conquer Fodlan and force her beliefs on the people just like a crusader.

Not to mention, it mirrors the fact that players ultimately have to make the call to join Edelgard themselves. White Clouds still leads into Silver Snow by default, it's the natural continuation of the story alongside the devs saying they built the world to support it. It's the player's choice to ignore the story up until that point, to ignore all the horrible things seen in White Clouds and turn their sword on Rhea instead of those actually committing those deeds all due to an attachment to someone being manipulated by TWSITD. It is framed in the game as changing the story.

In short, the player's choice to walk the path of conquest with Edelgard is meant to be a parallel to Edelgard's own decision to walk down that path. It is the player's choice to become the villain. Because, remember, it's Edelgard final boss theme Apex of the World that's playing in Flower's final map.

For added measure, in the real world the idea that someone is not responsible for their actions because they were "brainwashed" or indoctrinated has been rejected time and time again. It would mean that it's possible to take away someone's free will, and the courts just refuse to entertain that idea. Edelgard can believe whatever she wants, but she's still always going to be responsible for her her actions unless she gets the mental illness label slapped on her. Considering how the trope of villains being villains because they're crazy has fallen out of favor due to it being deemed problematic, I don't think that's the route people want to go down.

Edelgard's path is still made out to be the animal path, one where she hurts innocent people in her ignorance and will lead to her being reincarnated as an animal in her next life. But in her current life, she's still human. She's still capable of rational thought, being able to control her instinct and impulses and act in a humane manner. Even with the Three Flames in contrast to Byleth representing enlightenment in a Buddhist spirtiual sense, she still has that ability. The Three Flames of attachment, ignorance and hatred can only sway her decisions, not make them for her. Even if she has a moment of clarity before her death like I've suggested, urging Byleth to kill her in order to stop the war because she realizes she won't fucking stop of her own free will, even that would not change the fact that Edelgard has free will. It will always be her decision, so long as she can fight to do so. She just realizes she doesn't have the self-control to stop herself from doing so, so she pushes Byleth to do it for her.

Finally, there is no shortage of people who have been manipulated by TWSITD for their ends. The whole tragedy of Duscur was them manipulating a bunch of noble upset about reforms that would limit their powers. Even if those nobles believed they were in the right, what they did was inexcusable because in the end justice was them dressing up their own greed. The fact that Hopes showed that Miklan, fucking Miklan, could be work to make amends when given the opportunity by Dimitri while Edelgard will try to kill Dimitri for offering her a hand? Not a good look for Edelgard, is it?

[necrotic-nephilim]

I love the new ask game :D

Maybe "You wouldn't." with Bruce/Jason?

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

tysm anon, i'm glad you're loving it! i love that this got requested twice because it was such a fun one. warning that this one is *dark*, it deals with hypnotism/brainwashing and non-con as a result of that. it's *sort of* inspired by Gotham War but is based in pre-Flashpoint and basically my twist on a realistic but fucked up way i think Bruce would try to control Jason psychologically. just 3.3k of Jason suffering. enjoy <3

“Come home, Jason.”

It was a dream Jason had had a thousand times in a thousand ways. Bruce’s hand outstretched, offering Jason a white flag and compassion.

Only this time, it wasn’t a dream.

The cold ground underneath Jason’s palm was real. He could smell the dirt caked under his fingernails as he clenched his fist, panting hard.

He had a gun pointed at Bruce with his other hand. Jason was knocked to the ground, but he wasn’t down.

He was never down; a mutt going belly up. That’d never be him.

For some reason that Jason couldn’t put into words, the gun was shaking in his hand. He never had it in him to actually kill Bruce. But somehow now, his resolve felt more shattered than usual.

“Your home isn’t mine,” Jason said through grit teeth. He could taste his own blood in his mouth, but the fight was already muddled in his head. Was it one of the goons he was fighting or Bruce who’d hit him? He wasn’t sure.

Bruce loomed over Jason. It was a look he practically had patented. Cape billowing, shadow cast over Jason in such a way that Jason felt so impossibly small. He knew all the tricks and how Bruce pulled them off, but that didn’t mean he was immune to them. No matter how much Jason grew and made a name for himself, Bruce could always make him want to shrink into himself.

But he wouldn’t. He refused to hand that weakness over to Bruce.

“It always has been your home,” Bruce’s voice was far too gentle for his immovable stance and shadow-hidden face. Jason didn’t like the contrast. “Just for the night.” He took a step toward Jason, hand close enough for Jason to bat it away with his gun.

He knew this dance. Like a song that Jason had never actually heard, but still seemed to be woven into his soul. A long-forgotten melody as he descended into this hell. Bruce was reaching into Jason’s mind to pull out all of Jason’s worst nightmares about how he rolled over like a dog and gave in.

It made Jason’s lip curl in disgust, even as cold ice dripped down his spine.

“Go to hell,” Jason snarled. He didn’t sound how he wanted to. His voice was too high and it was like he was Robin again, pre-pubescent and looking at Bruce like he hung the moon. That moon was bleeding all over them, now. “I will shoot you if you don’t back off,” he warned. Not lethally, they both knew that unspoken caveat. But that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t acutely aware of every weak point of Bruce’s armor and very ready to give Bruce a new scar for his misplaced nostalgia-tainted love.

“No, you won’t,” Bruce said calmly. Not as an order, but as a simple fact.

Jason scoffed. “Like hell-”

Bruce whistled, a sharp and high note that made Jason’s brain nearly split in half.

And he-

He dropped his gun.

It tumbled out of his hand with his palm forced open. A muscle reaction that felt the same as a doctor knocking a hammer against Jason’s knee to make his leg kick out. So out of control that he just stared at his open, empty hand for a moment.

“What the fuck?” Jason spat out, blinking a few times. “Was that an EMP or something?” He hadn’t been looking at Bruce’s face. It sounded like a whistle, but Bruce could’ve activated some high-tech weapon through his gauntlet or-

Or something. Some sort of Bat-gadget that used a magnet to pull the gun out of Jason’s hand, or whatever other mcguffin Bruce had access to. That was the only logical answer that fit easily into Jason’s mind.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Why was Jason’s heart beating so fast?

He’d felt this fear before, in a dream.

Jason swallowed to keep his throat from closing up. He pushed himself to his feet and tried to grab a dagger from his belt.

He tried. And tried. It was right there, inches from his fingers twitching at his sides. Jason knew he was in control of his body. He could shift his weight and stretch his limbs and crack his neck.

But he couldn’t seem to grab a weapon.

Jason made a fist instead. He couldn’t raise it for the punch.

“You’re okay,” Bruce promised, trying to soothe the panic that was crawling up Jason’s throat. He reached up and stroked Jason’s face and Jason couldn’t seem to stop him. He wanted to pull away from the disgusting false kindness. But he fucking couldn’t. “We’re going home now.” Bruce’s tone was too calm, too even. Perfectly soothing and unbothered by Jason’s growing panic.

“No,” Jason choked out. He still had his words and could fight with them, at least. “What the fuck did you do, you bastard?”

Bruce’s expression changed but was impossible to get a full read on, hidden by the cowl. “What I had to. To keep you safe and bring you home.”

“I’m not yours,” Jason put as much force as he could into every word. All his hate, all his rage, dripped like a venom that was keeping him alive. He used his hatred to hide the fear that was swirling his thoughts, making them harder and harder to make sense of.

Something was wrong. All his worst nightmares of Jason just giving in and agreeing to go home with Bruce as an obedient little soldier were coming to life. Like sick prophecies he couldn’t escape.

Something was very wrong. Jason’s whole body was starting to shake and he instinctively reached for his chest, trying to find what was wrong. Something was lodged deep inside of him that didn’t belong. Something that Jason had to pull out before it took deeper root and he was- he was lost to some terrible unseen thing lurking in the corner of his mind. Whatever it was, Jason needed it out now before-

Bruce clicked his tongue. Jason was at least certain this time the sound came directly from Bruce, watching his mouth move to form the sharp clicking noise. Distinct and-

Familiar.

The fight or flight bled out of Jason’s limbs. His body calmed, even as his mind was still fighting the feeling. Muted and distant now, but still definitely there. Jason fumbled between the lines of a forced calm and natural panic. He didn’t know which one he wanted, which was the right one to be feeling.

The calm was entrancing. Hypnotizing, even. A siren trying to lull Jason under the waves so he would just sink into the current. The water was so warm and inviting, promising an existence where Jason wouldn’t have to feel so much pain all the time-

Hypnotizing.

It was hypnotizing.

Jason vaguely remembered Talia mentioning a hypnotism expert that Bruce once knew but she couldn’t convince Jason to train with them. He thought it sounded like a bunch of pseudoscience bullshit. Everyone knew hypnotism was a dumb Placebo.

Everyone it seemed, except Jason’s body. Which felt like it was trying to sink into the dirt under the weight of forced calm Bruce had wrapped around him.

“How-” Jason’s mouth was full of cotton. “Did you brainwash me, or something?”

“Conditioning,” Bruce corrected. How was he so casual about it? “It took months to make sure you wouldn’t notice. I did what I had to, to keep you safe from yourself.” He dared to run his fingers through Jason’s hair, pulling Jason’s pliant body forward until his forehead was pressed into Bruce’s shoulder. “This isn’t a punishment, Jason. I need you to understand, I didn’t do this to save Gotham. I did this to save you.”

He made the words sound like a love confession. They were the most terrifying words Jason had ever heard. They sounded more like a prison sentence Jason’s soul had been damned to then something sweet.

Jason managed to shake his head. His ears were ringing as he tried so hard to fight against the siren song. Bruce’s body was so warm. His words were barbed wire wrapped in a lullaby. They pierced Jason so deep he was sure he had to be bleeding everywhere. He could taste it, after all. Nothing made sense.

“You wouldn’t,” Jason whispered, almost delirious with how surreal it all felt. His tether to reality was cut cleanly by his puppeteer, razor-thin wires shackling him in place. A promise.

Bruce dared to press a kiss against Jason’s temple. “I already have.”

Jason went limp. Bruce caught him around the waist, easily picking him up to hold Jason gingerly.

Like a lover.

The nightmares of Bruce’s touch tasted so real.

Oh, fuck.

The nightmares.

“You’ve done this before,” Jason realized, tears of betrayal pricking in his eyes. The nightmares were real. They were distant, hypnotized memories he couldn’t quite reach in the back of his mind. Locked away until Bruce decided to unlock this conditioned, obedient side of Jason to play with. Using him like a toy.

Bruce was a psychotic bastard who always went too far.

But this. This was something new. An incomprehensible horror Jason could’ve never imagined Bruce doing. That was why they had to be nightmares, not memories. Bruce never would’ve done that to Jason. Jason never would’ve just laid there and taken it from Bruce. He wasn’t some lap dog for Bruce to domesticate.

He wasn’t.

This wasn’t real obedience. It was forced submission.

This wasn’t real at all. It couldn’t be.

This wasn’t Jason.

He wouldn’t have let this happen to himself.

He didn’t realize he was crying until Bruce was wiping the tears away. Daring to be fucking gentle, like he wasn’t perfectly aware of Jason’s inner turmoil eating him alive.

“Let’s go home,” Bruce said, adjusting Jason into a bridal carry and ignoring as Jason’s shallow breaths gave way to soft sobs.

The worst part was, Jason could feel himself slipping deeper into the corners of his mind. It was disturbingly easy to fall for the drowning nothingness that quieted all his rebelling emotions tearing him apart.

It was easy to give in to Bruce’s conditioning.

Before Jason knew it, he was tucked into the Batmobile, limbs completely immobile as they drove down familiar streets.

The anger melted away first.

Then the fear.

All those feelings left and Jason was just-

Empty.

He was going home.

Moments of clarity came to Jason in short, chaotic bursts. The first one came to him as Bruce was stripping him of his clothes, throwing them to the ground without a care in the world, desperate to consume Jason with hungry hands.

He could see Bruce’s face, now. It was all Jason could see.

Those awful, wanting eyes. Looking at Jason like he was just another toy of Bruce’s.

“What…” Jason’s words were slurred and barely fit in his mouth. “Stop- Bruce, stop-”

“Shh,” Bruce pressed his mouth against Jason’s and Jason was sinking again, unable to stop his body from reacting and kissing back. “I’ve got you.” The words were already so far away Jason barely heard them, even pressed against his mouth.

Bruce tasted like peppermint and sweet compliance.

The second clear moment was the longest one.

It came to Jason with a gasp, chest heaving for air as if something had been choking him.

He wasn’t being choked, though.

He was being fucked.

The gasp turned into a startled moan when a long thrust drove right into Jason’s prostate, his entire body jerking. Jason’s arms were wrapped around Bruce’s back, clinging to him like some kind of needy animal as Bruce drove into Jason’s body. A mutt with his belly up, compliant, like he was afraid of.

“Stop fighting it,” Bruce murmured into Jason’s ear, immediately knowing that Jason was lucid.

How could Jason stop fighting when he didn’t know he was fighting in the first place? He wasn’t in control of the mess in his head pulling him in too many directions.

He was so wrought out that all he could do was cry, anguished.

Jason wanted to push Bruce off of him. He didn’t want this pleasure. Jason’s arms moved sluggishly, but at least seemed to obey him, pushing weakly at Bruce’s shoulder.

“No, no no no,” Jason chanted the only thing he could get out. A mantra, a plea, and a prayer all in one. Every thrust rattled his bones with new, yet familiar feelings that were too real.

The parts of Jason’s body not under his control bloomed under Bruce’s touch. His back was arching and he was grinding onto Bruce’s cock. It made no sense, how he tried to claw at Bruce’s skin while chasing more and more of Bruce deep inside him.

It was where Bruce belonged, an insidious voice whispered in Jason’s ear. Where Jason belonged, too.

No, Jason fought back in his own mind.

God please, no.

Bruce just kept moving and fucking Jason. As if it wasn’t rape.

It was rape, wasn’t it? Jason’s consent wasn’t real. Bruce had made it up.

All of this was made up. Jason would never let Bruce do this to him.

“You’re beautiful,” Bruce soothed, pressing flowering kisses down Jason’s throat. Jason tried to turn his head away but he had nowhere to go, trapped underneath Bruce.

“No,” Jason repeated. He hit Bruce in the chest when a particular thrust made Jason’s own cock twitch and a moan rolled through his body.

Jason was hard. There was already precum dripping out of him.

Would he come like this? Did he have words, when he was completely under? In some of Jason’s nightmare-memories, he could remember begging Bruce for more. More touch, more pleasure, more orgasms.

That was what Bruce had reduced Jason to. A wanton whore who didn’t even have control of his own body. Jason violently shook his head, trying to wiggle more control into his limbs. He managed to just barely kick Bruce’s leg. Not hard, but enough to make Bruce stumble, catching himself with a hand against the mattress. A hand that wasn’t touching Jason anymore, making him sigh in relief. He could keep this momentum.

He just had to hold onto the control-

“I love you,” Bruce said, voice silky and going down Jason’s psyche like smooth whiskey. The burning aftertaste was there, trying to start a fire strong enough for Jason to fight back with, but Jason just swallowed.

Those words were the needed trigger to push Jason back down. And worse, this time it wasn't a gentle descent. He felt like he was being smothered by a pillow inside his own head. Jason was pretty sure he actually screamed before his body was taken from him.

Jason only managed to give Bruce a parting glare.

Lucidity came for Jason again with water raining down on his body. Hot enough to steam up the space, making Jason’s muscles sag.

He was in a shower. Leaning against Bruce. Practically clinging to him like a fucking child.

He could feel the soreness in a deep, disgusting place Jason never wanted to know Bruce could reach. Two gentle hands were massaging shampoo into Jason’s hair. The scent that Bruce used, not Jason.

Even when all this was over, Jason still wouldn’t be able to get Bruce’s scent off his skin.

Bruce had to be doing it on purpose.

“I hate you,” Jason spat the words out as fast as he could. He knew he was going to slip away again.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Acceptance was an ugly pill Jason hated swallowing with every fiber of his being.

He had never hated himself more.

Hating Bruce was an easy second nature. But this level of self-hatred was new, even for Jason.

He was so tired of feeling it. Of feeling at all.

Bruce didn’t use words this time. Jason’s ugly confession wasn’t acknowledged. Warm fingers just pressed into a specific spot against the back of Jason’s neck and he was boneless again.

Jason’s last thought was wondering just how many triggers Bruce had programmed into him.

He probably didn’t want to know.

Jason’s final moment of awareness came in Bruce’s arms. He was pressed against Bruce’s chest, finding himself tracing idle patterns across Bruce’s skin while Bruce was reading something on his tablet.

There was cold, bitter anger freezing Jason’s chest over.

But mostly, there was numbness.

Emptiness.

Jason didn’t say anything this time. He didn’t see the point when his words meant nothing to Bruce. He just glared into nothing, hand going completely rigid, then curling into a useless fist.

He didn’t want to know how many times he had been here before.

Bruce leaned down and kissed Jason’s brow. Jason wrinkled his nose but gave no other reaction. He kept his body perfectly still, even with it in his control.

“Do you want to remember?” Bruce asked.

Confusion clouded Jason’s muddy senses. “What?”

Bruce brushed stray hair out of Jason’s eyes and tilted his chin up, forcing him to look into Bruce’s lovingly unforgiving eyes. “Do you want to remember this time? You don’t have to remember if you’re not ready.”

Not ready. Jason didn’t like how those two words were heavy and had so many implications that they turned his stomach.

“No,” Jason couldn’t stop himself from telling the truth. Bruce had asked if he wanted to remember.

And Jason didn’t want this. He needed to remember. But more than anything, he didn’t want to remember this. It made his skin crawl.

He wanted this to be a bad dream.

The logic side of Jason’s brain was screaming and begging to remember this. If Jason knew this was real when he was away from Bruce, then he could get far, far away. He could run.

He could go anywhere.

Bruce hummed and nodded. With understanding Jason could feel down to his core, an awful thing.

He’d done this before, after all. The routine was down pat, for Bruce.

And for Jason, it was a new horror that he was going to learn over and over again.

Maybe Bruce got some kind of sick enjoyment out of this wretched cycle. Jason knew Bruce’s end goal, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

He couldn’t. Admitting it made it real.

And this wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Instead of slipping under the edge of conditioning, Jason just slipped into sleep. His body relaxed and Bruce pulled a blanket around him, tucking him in and murmuring something Jason didn’t quite catch.

Jason drifted into a dreamless sleep.

With a swear and a jolt, Jason woke up. His heart was pounding and he grabbed his chest, breathing hard. He sat up, swinging his legs over his shitty bed in his shitty warehouse.

“Fucking nightmares,” Jason grumbled, getting his body to calm down. The nightmare was already slipping away. It was something so ridiculous that he didn’t bother chasing it. Something about Bruce touching him and Jason just letting him.

A snort came out of Jason’s chest at the thought. He stood up, shaking himself free of stupid night terrors.

Jason rolled his eyes and wandered over toward his fridge, mind already drifting to think about the case he was working on, looking over the board on his wall to give his attention to something that actually deserved it.

Like he’d ever let Bruce get close to him, Jason wasn’t just some mutt belly-up starved for attention.

Over his dead body.

[avatarmerida]

Alliance

A short thing I found in my drafts that I forget about. I wrote it when I was overthinking the huntlow pinkie hold. It consumes me to this day. 💚💛

—-

When the scouts ran drills, none of them ever wanted to team up with Hunter. It was quite the opposite, in fact. You’d think that they’d be fighting over the honor of having the head of the coven and the Emperor’s nephew on their team, but no. Rather, they’d jump at the chance to gang up on him and Hunter couldn’t help but feel like they enjoyed getting to exclude him.

But he worked better alone, anyway. It made him work harder.

“All right team, line up!” announced Willow. “Gus is gonna rig up some illusions to test our reflexes! Let’s see if we can sniff out the real Gus and snatch some flags!”

The Entrails cheered in agreement as they ran to take their places on the field. Willow smiled at their excitement and followed suit, setting up beside Hunter who had managed to sneak away for a few hours to help run drills.

“Hey Hunter! Wanna be my partner?”

“Y-your partner?” he repeated, confused.

“Yeah!” she said with a mischievous smile. “You take the left, I take the right. If we work together, I bet we can do it in record time.”

“But we don’t... have to work together,” he said, in case she had forgotten her own instructions. “You don’t have to work with me.”

“I know I don’t have to,” she chuckled. “I want to, if you want to. You’re good at strategy; it’ll be fun.”

“Oh, yeah sure.” He said, warming up to the fact that she was serious. “I’d... like that.”

“Awesome!” Willow said with a bright smile, extending her pinky out to him. “Alliance?”

He looked at her gesture with confusion and the raised his hand to mirror hers and touched his pinky to hers. “Alliance.” He confirmed. Willow tugged his pinky, completing the promise as Gus and his illusions took to the skies and beckoned the team to come after him.

He was new, that’s why she picked him.

——

Amity took game night very seriously. The only person who took it more seriously was Hunter. Before they could begin any game, they each had to have the instructions memorized. Every dice roll, every moment, every turn has to be by the book. They prided themselves in knowing every technicality which only fueled their competitive nature even more.

“Go back four spaces and take three additional cards, Hunter!” Amity ordered, taking far too much delight in delivering the blow.

“No! I was so close to the jackpot space!” Hunter exclaimed in utter dismay as he took his punishment cards from the deck on the table.

“Amity please!” Gus groaned in desperation. “We were so close to being done! Why??”

“Because if anyone’s gonna be the champ it’s gonna be me!” She declared, furiously shaking the dice to power up her revenge roll.

“What’s up Gus? I thought you liked silly human board games.” Lus said.

“I do! But these two and their love of rules make it so hard to cheat!” Gus sighed. “Deception is half the fun.”

“Don’t worry Gus, Hunter is still the closest the victory circle,” assured Willow. “When we’re done we can go watch the clothes spin around in the dryer, that usually makes you feel better.”

“But I don’t have enough tokens to make it past the trick space!” Hunter said in a panic.

“Where did you guys even find this game?” Luz said under her breath, looking at the box.

“Hey, I’ve got plenty,” said Willow, putting the plastic coins in a pile. “You can use some of mine!”

“Oh no Willow, I couldn’t,” Hunter insisted, knowing she had worked hard for her collection. “You earned those.”

“We can share them,” she said with a shrug, having worked hard to earn them mostly to aggravate Amity. “We can work together.”

“Really? Uh, hold on lemme check the rule book I know know if it says that’s allowed...”

“Well, it doesn’t say it’s noooot,” she pointed out playfully, gathering her pieces and scooting closer to him to combine their loot. “Alliance?” She asked, sticking out her pinky. Her face donned a devious smile as Amity waited in suspense for Hunter to confirm or deny, certain their team up would dismantle everything she worked for.

“Alliance.” Hunter confirmed, grabbing her pinky with his own and furrowing his brow in determination, ready to make Amity pay for playing as the piece he wanted to play as.

She wanted to end the game, that’s why she picked him.

—-

“… and then there’s supposed to be punch there too! It’s like all the flavors mixed together, so it’s looks kinda gross but trust me it’s actually really good!” Vee continued to happily explain as the group walked down the sidewalk to her friend’s house. They had all been invited to a party and Vee and Luz were trying to cram as much information about human realm parties to their friends as possible before they arrived. For the most part, they were all excited. They had been working hard and could use a break, and of course Gus had brought his notebook to take down as much as he could. But Willow couldn’t help but notice how quiet Hunter was as he dragged his feet beside her.

“You okay, Hunter?” Willow whispered and he flinched, as though he had been so zoned out he forget where he was. “You look… sick?”

“Sick?”

“I mean, you still look really nice,” she said quickly, knowing how much time he had spent making the jean jacket he was wearing. He looked more than just nice, if she was being honest, but she had a feeling that wasn’t what was plaguing his mind. “But you look nervous.”

“I mean… maybe I am, a little,” he admitted, hoping the others couldn’t hear. “I’ve just… never been to a party before, let alone a human one. I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or when I’m supposed to say something or if there’s a certain place I’m supposed to sit or-.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” she assured him with a gentle giggle. “I’ve never really been to a party before either.”

“You? Really?” He practically gasped. “But you’d be so fun at parties!”

“Aw, thanks,” she blushed, subconsciously adjusting her hair clip. “But yeah, I’ve never been to a party that wasn’t a birthday party, and even then it was only me and Gus. But this sounds like it’ll be fun.”

“Really? It sounds terrifying to me,” Hunter gulped, feeling like her was turning paler.

“Well, I’m really glad you’re going,” she said sweetly, knowing he hardly had a choice in the matter. He had just gotten on better terms with Vee and turning down an invitation didn’t seem like a good way to keep that positive momentum going. His heart leapt at Willow’s words, though he was sure it was just her being nice. He hardly expected to see much of her after they arrived.

He was sure the moment they walked in, everyone would be drawn to Willow. How could they not be? She was kind, funny, charismatic and not that he noticed but she looked absolutely stunning in the green sweater she had just bought, the way it made her eyes pop even in the dim moonlight. She was interesting and fun, they’d probably form a line for the chance to talk to her. He assumed he would gravitate to a spot in the shadows, maybe see if there were any books to read. Luz had mentioned that parties where the perfect time to impress someone and while Hunter pretended not to know what she was implying, he couldn’t imagine him being impressive in this type of social setting.

“I’m actually a little nervous too,” Willow said softly and Hunter looked at her in surprise once again. “I mean, I don’t know anyone there.”

“Well, you know me,” he said simply.

“That’s true,” she smiled, glancing up at him illuminated by the streetlights. “Um, would you wanna… hang out at the party?”

“Me? A-are you sure?” Hunter said, clearing his throat. She had plenty of other options.

“Yeah,” she said. “If it’s boring or awkward we can at least talk to each other. I like talking to you.”

“Oh… I like talking to you too,” he said, stopping at the edge of the driveway as the others walked in the front door. Vee greeted her friends with open arms and proceed to introduce Luz, diving into their story about being distant cousins or something. He sighed, his chest felt tight all of a sudden imaging all the people in the house. “I just…”

Willow sensed his discomfort.

“Hey, no worries,” she said. “How about if one us wants to leave early, we walk home together?”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not,” she said. “We can always think of an excuse to leave. I’d rather be walking with you than at a party without you.”

“Oh.”

“And Luz mentioned there might be games and we’ve always been a great team at games,” she smiled. She did not bring up one game Luz had mentioned in particular, mostly as a joke, where two people spend seven minutes together. She didn’t necessary plan on participating, but if she did she’d want Hunter as her partner. “Or if someone talks to one of us and we don’t know what to say we can help each other out.”

“I’d really like that,” Hunter said with a sigh of relief, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Willow smiled, happy to see he was okay with her idea. She brought up her pinkie and offered it to him with a bright smile.

“Alliance?”

He looked at her, still confused as to how she was so content to spend the whole night with him. But he couldn’t say it wasn’t an ideal situation for him.

“Alliance.” He said, linking his pinkie to hers. But this time instead of releasing it after they sealed the promise, she brought their hands down to their sides and used it to lead him inside. He knew everyone who saw them would assume they were together but he did not remove himself from her grasp.

She didn’t want to talk to strangers, that’s what she did it.

She didn’t want to get lost, that’s what she did it.

She knew he would hide in a dark corner without her, that’s why she did it.

She was was worried he’d say something dumb and blow their cover, that’s why she did it.

Hunter’s mind flooded with excuses for why she did not drop his hand and stood so close to him without hesitation. Because he couldn’t fathom the reason for their alliance was because she wanted him on her side because she just wanted to be with him. She could pick anyone, but she kept picking him.

[girlbossblackbeard]

s2 brain thoughts: the squeakuel (ep 2)

as a reminder, if u see me posting any of these points as their own posts mind ur business:

-i'm sending my hospital bills to david jenkins for weaponizing thef cuking "you wear fine things well" scene WITHOUT ANY KIND OF WARNING i literally almost choked to death from shock

-hey so what the whole actual fuck is up with transitioning directly from the very painful "you wear fine things well" scene which, as we've already established, has REAL HUMAN CASUALTIES DUE TO THIS USE-CASE, into the "run from me darling" lyric overlayed on top of the god damn shot of ed pAINTING THE BRIDE CAKE TOPPER TO LOOK LIKE HIM AND BASICALLY PLAYING OUT HIS FANTASY OF MARRYING STEDE. david jenkins you have committed crimes

-also!!!!!!!!!! that cake topper has kohl smudged all over it so you KNOW our boy ed has been caressing it against his cheek and sighing longingly

-i know we've all talked about how insane the "ed plays with the wedding cake toppers pretending they're him and stede" scene is but i don't think we've really comprehended how GENUINELY INSANE it is like??? edward teach, blackbeard, the kraken, the scourge of the seven seas, the most fearsome pirate the caribbean has ever known that has recently been on a non-stop slaughtering spree, painted a bride wedding cake topper to look like himself which he then scoots next to a wedding cake topper that looks like stede so he can imagine that he's marrying him. this man carefully rubbed kohl on a cake topper to give it darker skin and darker hair and a BEARD. to make it look more like himself. so he could then. put it next to a cake topper that looked like stede. and pretend. they were getting married. i've written that 3 times now and my brain STILL refuses to fully process those sentences.

-i said it in my first brain thoughts post for ep 1 and i'll say it again: every time im reminded that ed has been crying NON-STOP. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. for MONTHS. over stede. my wall gains another hole

-the way ed is so delirious in his sadness as he pushes the cake toppers out the window. i don't even have any thoughts on that i feel like all i can do is just note it and let y'all deal with the rest

>>actually I lied, he literally watches them sink into the sea after he pushes them out the window that's so fucked up whomever made that decision to make him do that is so fucked up

-"the sea is restorative isn't it" "YYYYEEESSS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!! I'VE ALWAYS SAID SO!!!!!!!!!!!!" "ohh that guy knows" IS THE MOST UNDERRATED EXCHANGE IN THE ENTIRE SERIES IT LITERALLY HAD ME SHAKING WITH LAUGHTER

-would looooooooooooooove to know what went through stede's head as soon as roach mentioned "some place called China??" like did he immediately think of the kiss or getting sent to the naval academy or the kiss or ed's excitement at the prospect of running away together or the kiss or getting kidnapped by chauncey or the kiss or watching chauncey shoot himself in the dome or the kiss or his flop behavior of running back to his family that doesn't even want him or the kiss or

-the crew of the red flag being so immediately kind and welcoming to stede and his crew <3

-i genuinely cannot wait to watch buttons fully immerse himself in the red flag traditions like he was made to be on that crew

-"how should I put this, your energy is..." can't believe they got hatecrimed like that

-RAT BOY

-HE'S HERE

-OUR BOY IS HERE

-fun fact: i recorded my live reaction to episodes 1 - 3 and posted the clip of my friends and i reacting to lucius coming back because we were quite literally jumping for joy and crying over the reunion and THE illustrious Nathan Foad himself told me it was literally the cutest thing he's ever seen (his words, not mine!!) so we're basically best friends forever now and the rest of my life will be spent chasing the high of the happiness i felt during that interaction

-i am also crying once again over his reappearance and i think that's just gonna happen every time i watch this scene :')

-roach's shocked face when lucius appears is something that can actually be so personal

-the way they all dogpile on top of him because they're so happy to see him bitch what the FCUK

-also stede's STUPID LITTLE "huh!" LIKE??????????? THAT WAS YOUR SCRIBE AND RELATIONSHIP GURU YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER WHERE IS THE ENERGY AND EXCITEMENT AT KNOWING HE ISN'T FUCKING DEAD??????????????

-"i love it" *BIG SMOOCH* "i love all of it" *BIGGER SMOOCH* oh so they're trying to kill me by smothering me in the syrupy sweetness of their love. okay

-okay sorry but lucius's absolutely microscopic furrowing of his brow right before black pete kisses him again. for a split second he had a slight look of sadness which lines up with the very real trauma he's endured and how even in extremely happy moments they can be tinged with sadness - maybe a sadness for the past and the way things could've been if he hadn't been pushed off the boat - and all i can say is nathan foad. ur big powerful acting mind

-we gotta talk about lucius choosing not to reveal that ed had pushed him off the ship in front of the whole crew. i'm still trying to figure out if that was him trying to spare stede's feelings (unlikely considering he lets it all out later), spare black pete's feelings (possible, since he knows black pete idolizes blackbeard), prevent himself from having to relive that trauma in front of his friends when he's not prepared to confront those memories, or a combination of all of the above

-"i fell. off the ship." "that doesn't sound like you. you have impeccable balance, babe" i literally love black pete so much i may legally have to change my name to lucius spriggs

-"toouwelss? what is this? are these jobs?" stede i love you so very much to the moon and back but for the love of god you gotta shut it my guy

-I AM LITERALLY SO EXCITED FOR THE BUTTONS SEA WITCH STORY ARC LIKE IT MAY ACTUALLY BE ON PAR WITH MY EXCITEMENT TO SEE ED AND STEDE PROPERLY REUNITE AND OPENLY LOVE EACH OTHER AGAIN

-ed just. washing the door handle. i dont have any other thoughts

-GODDDDDDD HE'S SERVING SOOOOOO MUCH GENDER WITH HIS LIL HAIR BUN AND MOSTLY CLEANED UP WAR PAINT AND DANGLY EARRINGS AKEFJAPWHFA OPERGJAER

-the way frenchie looks genuinely happy for ed when he says he thinks he got all the poison out of his system and it's a new day :((

-idk much about piracy but i really don't think there's a rule about the new first mate traditionally having to kill the old first mate, i think ed just made that up so someone else would have to kill izzy instead of him. despite everything, despite how low he's sunken into the very dark parts of his mind due to the heartbreak, ed still can't bring himself to deal the killing blow

-"i expect great things from you" might be one of the more chilling lines in that interaction because for THE blackbeard to have not just any expectations from you, but GREAT expectations? that's not a compliment, that's a threat. measure up to what blackbeard thinks you should be or else

-can't comment on the amputation scene too yucky sorry

-stede trying to triangulate ed's coordinates based off of his string of crimes on a map HE drew is me trying to triangulate where tf this season is going based off of buckwild theories i've made up and used as the foundation for even more buckwild theories

-yeah idk what the mushy ass lyrics stede wrote on that map mean but i know they're frighteningly homosexual

-"FUCK YOU. that's how i am" I am SO glad lucius gets to be openly bitchy towards stede it feels like a cathartic release for me personally

-ed's fuckin "heyyyy" to frenchie in the kitchen is both hilarious and unbelievably unsettling

-absolutely obsessed with the writers for once again showing just how scarily observant and intelligent ed is when he calls frenchie out for using his right hand to mime killing izzy even though he's actually left handed

-i really admire how david chose to use a low camera angle that looks up at ed as he reveals to frenchie that he's well aware he hasn't killed izzy yet because taika's performance was already unsettling enough but that specific angle adds so much to his overall menacing presence in that scene

-joel fry's performance in the kitchen scene with ed literally makes me want to bite something he's so good at acting quietly terrified

-this is almost certainly an unpopular opinion but i really would've loved to see more buildup to jim and archie kissing. i just feel like we know NOTHING about her let alone her relationship with jim prior to the two days we've seen them interacting and i feel like that kiss would've felt like a much more satisfying payoff if we had seen more interactions between them before they got to that point. i would've taken delaying that kiss by a few episodes if it meant feeling fully invested in it once it did happen, but i also know the show already has so much material to get through (which is why we should've gotten 10 eps but i digress)

-"hey no one told me this room existed" is giving "i didn't even realize there was piracy happening"

-"take the fuckin leg" is such a perfect line delivery

-love the foreshadowing of olu explaining how the little ships on the war table were all over the place and "some of them were over land"

-roach waxing poetic about the noodles is so relatable

-"jesus christ stede keep your pants on" hands down one of the funniest fucking lucius moments of all time

-sorry but we gotta give a shout out to lucius modifying the chinese fleet uniform so it's sleeveless. the edges are cleanly done so either he was put on tailoring duty at some point and picked it up there or someone on the ship wanted to enable the slayage

-there's something to be said about the fact that the only other man who has lasted being on board the red flag ship is another member of the revenge who was picked up and welcomed into the fold well before stede and the rest of the crew wound up there. something about how stede attracts and retains other people who he can tell are gentle at heart, even if they're putting up a tough front. something about how lucius had bounced from ship to ship until he finally wound up on Zheng Yi Sao's ship where he was allowed to be himself

-"ya don't know............if ya picked up....smokin....." nathaniel buttons my beloved

-OOOOF stede's guilty face after lucius talks about how he must've picked up smoking somewhere. after the crushing guilt he already feels about the ed situation this definitely would've weighed extremely heavy on him

-MY SPICY LIL RAT BOY IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

-"what the hell is going on in towels" wee john my beloved

-look i know izzy is on the brink of death but he genuinely looks kinda beautiful before ed wakes him up from his shock induced coma and i won't apologize for that

-"my leg" izzy is so fred rechid coded

-"it's up in leg heaven now" i need to know if ed said that as a way of metaphorically digging the knife into izzy and getting back at him for trying to force ed to send stede to doggy heaven in season 1

-i dont have the emotional capacity to dive into the ed and izzy shooting scene rn but just know it destroyed me on a metaphysical level

-"too scared to do it yourself" no because unfortunately now im thinking about ed thinking through taking his own life but coming to the realization that he can't do it. whether it's because of childhood christianity trauma and thinking he'll be sent to hell for doing so or because he knows he can't follow through with it himself if there's still a tiny shred of hope that he'll reunite with stede and everything will be okay again, he always has to outsource the big job

-also, very interesting choice to have almost jovial classical music playing in the background of the ed/izzy scene. it definitely undercut a lot of the tension compared to how supremely uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing the scene would've been if it were dead silent behind the dialogue

-"i loved you...best i could"

-"i've got an ex-wife, two messed up kids probably" LMAO stede acknowledging he would have no way of knowing how fucked up his kids are because of him

-"sounds like you're quite the fuck-up pal" "yeah, i am! and im alone! talk to pete. don't be like me" ohhhhh my god stede is in just as much agony as ed is over this breakup he's just been using his polite society social skills of saving face and never showing how truly devastated you are to others to cover up how supremely messed up he is over all of it. he is BEGGING lucius to talk to pete and NOT make the same mistakes he did because maybe if he can prevent lucius from bottling it up and actually deal with this in a healthy way he can make up for a fraction of all the hurt he's caused not only ed but lucius as well. maybe if he can get lucius to talk to pete he can absolve himself of some of the soul-crushing guilt he feels over how his actions have irreparably damaged the people he cares about the most. maybe if lucius and pete are able to work through this trauma and still come out the other side loving each other just as much or even more than they did before, he can believe that there's still hope for him and ed.

-ed choosing to put on the cravat for what he believes is going to be his last action on earth before dying because he's resigned himself to his fate but is still scared shitless by it and wants that modicum of comfort that stede will always be able to provide him no matter how badly he hurt ed is giving me the urge to find the nearest cast iron skillet and loony toons my skull

-"some people are just broken no matter what you do" noooo why do i feel like lucius was talking about himself when he said that to stede about ed ://

-oof i know they were an unnamed character but fang tried to save someone who went overboard during the storm and wasn't able to :(

-GGGOOOODDDDDDD izzy looks so fucking hot and badass all soaking wet and leaning up against the rigging after shooting ed jesus christ

-"finally" ed was so relieved to have his pain finally end. even after his journey of self discovery in the next episode im really curious how he's going to deal with having to confront the pain he thought he escaped in addition to the pain he inflicted on others while failing to cope with that pain and stopping at nothing, including nearly killing the rest of the crew, to end it

[hetalia-club]

Historical Hetalia

I hate how the hetalia fandom makes England out to be this brilliant mastermind when actual he’s a petty idiot. And he’s been getting a pass for far too long.

Here are some of my favorite England moments through recent history. Absolut Looney Tunes bull shit.

Story 1:

America and England had a plan (that was really smart and would totally work) to build a tunnel under west Germany so they could go inside of it and listen in on what the Russians stationed there were saying.

A double Agent in England's side (but actually worked for Russia) went and blabbed about it. Russia was like “oh no! That’s such a good plan we should have thought of it! I know let’s let them half way finish the tunnel and then we can discover it then we can finish building it!” So that’s what happened America and England filled in the hole though and pretended like they got lost digging like a sewer pipe or something like that.

Story 2:

A rock exists on the coast of Scotland. This is a real big and cool rock… or that’s what England thought anyway. So worried about the rock he spent nights tossing and turning wondering if the big fuck ton of a rock was perhaps being used for spying, was it bugged? Perhaps it wasn’t a rock at all and it was a submarine? Tired of sleepless nights England sailed over there one day and placed a British flag on the rock and a plaque claiming it as official British territory. Scotland was so pissed because that was HIS very cool big rock! They are still fighting over who owns the rock today. I do think teh Scotts threw teh flag into the ocean.

Story 3:

Or the time that America had just recruited a new spy and he was on his way to meet his new British associates in NY for a spy mission they had against Russia. The British Spy’s thought he gave off sneaky vibes so the kidnapped him and killed him when he got to the meeting and then they just went inside and waited for him to show up. They contacted the CIA and were like “where’s your boy dog?” And they described him to the spy’s and they were like “New mission you guys need to find this guy because we lost communication and we think it might have been the KGB and he had important stuff on him” and the British Spy’s were like “um…. I think we know where to find him” *cue laugh track*

Story 4:

The British were spying in Russian waters in a submarine when they came across a Polish sub. They were super jealous because this one was pulling a bunch of hydrophones( devices that allowed to you listen inside of other submarines). So the British wanted them so they were real real quiet and they snuck up behind the sub and they cut the line. They took the hydrophones and made a quick get away without the Polish sub being any the wiser.

Poland had to go back to Russia and be like. "Remember the really expensive equipment you gave me to use? Yeah I think it broke off in the ocean and idk where we lost it though and I'm NOT going back for it so don't ask. Kay thanks bye!"

Story 4 (my favorite because it is the dumbest and I think about it a lot):

Let me set the scene It’s the Cold War and things are really hearting up and Britain and America are afraid that Russia may try and cross the iron curtain. America said they should burry land mines but then remembers that it would be too cold for the land mines to stay working in the winter time (Just remember this was some years ago). But our mastermind England had an original though. I'm just going to write out exactly how I think this conversation would have went because frankly it's just so dumb and I could not make this shit up if I tried.

America: Alright everybody i really think we need to do something about the Iron curtain Russia has been too bold lately. So I was thinking something like land mines but I'm not sure if it'll work they won't work in the winter which knowing Russia that's exactly when he would attack. If anyone has any ideas I'm open to them Now if we could all ju-

England: *lifting is head from the mountain of cocaine he just had his face buried in* Chickens!

America: I'm sorry what?

England: Chickens! Chickens you idiot!

America: What do you mean chickens, are you alright man?

England: Uh! You are so dumb. We get a bunch of chickens, we strap the land mines on them and we put the chickens into little cages. Then we burry the cages and give them enough food for about a week. And we can just change the chickens every week. The body heat of the chickens will keep the land mine warm, don't you see? We can use a remote to detonate the land mines ourselves.

America: Okay...that's a thought. Anyone else have any ideas? *Looks around the room of his allies as they all nod in agreement*

America: Germany, what's your thoughts on this? You don't think this is a good idea surely, right? Just burying chickens along the border of your country.

Germany: I like chickens.

America: This is worse than my idea to put little head sets on cats and turn them lose in Moscow, you all can't be forreal

Italy: Chickens are cool tho.

America: God Damn it. Okay Operation Chicken is-

England: No stupid you can't call it operation chicken, Russia will know what we are up to right away. We need to name it something discrete. If not he'll steal our chicken idea.

America: Russia dosen't want your stupid- Alright whatever, what do you want to call it then?

England: Operation Blue Bunny....No No! Blue Peacock

America: What the actual fuck is wrong with you?

(Provided a link for this one because I don't think any of you would believe me if I didn't)

[emmetofthestars]

the thing about like a remake for a pride flag. is that it feels more like certain kinds of people just want to inject their own ideas and get popular for it. and also flex their morality and betterness. idk my mind. "This flag sucks and is bad and problematic because the person who made it is not good. So use mine instead :D iam perfectly moral and a good person and my flag is so much better". im supposed to be on blender right now maybe i should like. idk. do something else other than blender. anyways i think this is mostly about the toothpaste flag though. i legit do not know its real name but i know that there are definitely people on twitter who wanted to profit off of making a new better flag so bad. aswell as the pan flag kinda. like bro nobody cares what the designer of the flag believes in. if its not directly represented in the design of the flag then literally who cares. its not a flag meant to represent their morality its there to present a orientation people can identify with. its a flag. its a flag

[astroboots]

I was in a really strange mood the other day. Not sure what it was exactly - the spring, something in the water, retrograde Mercury...Whatever it was, it set me aflame with the desire for Oscar Isaac. That feeling is not a new one, but the intensity it hit me with was pretty remarkable even for me. So I did what every logical person would've done - got here to get myself some gorgeous gifs of his.

Long story short, a couple of hours and several delicious gifs later, I started to think that maybe it's a good idea to read something. Well, I actually specifically didn't want to read shit, but there were just two many texts coming my way, upon thirst scrolling. So, while I was half-heartedly trying to drive these thoughts away with an imaginary stick, I came upon the "Red Flags." And was met with something I can't fucking resist - long chapters.

I read all sorts of different fanfics for all sorts of different reasons. We all have our own preferences, and I am trying not to concentrate on mine all that often, because it will just result in me reading only specific things, and there is a chance I'll miss something really good.

But I still do have those preferences. And for me, THE most important thing in the story is for the characters to feel like themselves from the original incarnation. Not to a tea, perhaps. Not always, at least. But I want to read something they do and go: "Yeep, that's them. That's exactly how they would've acted. "

I've read a lot of absolutely brilliant stories that I see more like an AU situation. Great storytelling, amazing characters - it's all there. But the characters just don't feel the same to me. It doesn't make the story bad whatsoever. It's just a separate category for me.

And then there are those VERY rare ones that are just making every single thing right in my eyes. Of course, these things are objective. Of course, it's only based on what I personally want to see. But when I find them, I'm treating them like an absolute treasure.

Which leads us to the "Red Flags." The story that got me so invested that I ended up reading it till 3 in the morning because I just couldn't bring myself to separate with these characters.

After the series, Steven got so much love. Which is completely understandable. He is an adorable, goofy, absolutely charming idiot that you just want to be around. But I don't think Marc himself is getting enough appreciation. Which he should.

The way he was written here made my heart ache. He was portrayed so real, I was sometimes sure I could touch him through the screen of my phone. The man was so broken on such a deep level that he had to create a happy version of himself, to be able to cope with trauma. The man, who is denying himself happiness because he doesn't think he deserves it. The man, who is willing to give every single good thing in his life to his alter ego, whom he sees as a pure and sweet person.

One of the most realistic main heroines I've seen in fan fiction - just like her, I wanted to grab him, shake him up, and scream that he deserves love, deserves to be cared for, deserves being looked after and to be able to just be himself around a person, who loves him. To let someone love him. He doesn't deserve to be shout at, though. Doesn't matter if it comes from a place of genuine care. I'd kill for this man. Got every last bit of patience out of me to help him see how much he is loved and needed. How beautiful, how kind, and caring he actually is. How empathetic he is. How, no matter what little he thinks of himself, he is a whole world.

It's not even just the romance, but how he treats Steven, too. It's just beyond words. I never thought about it that way, but it was so heartbreaking to see that he went far and beyond with writing Steven cards from their mom. He did not have to do it, but he wanted Steven to feel loved. Something that he never got himself. The man, who grew up abused and hated by his own mother, who drew so many walls around himself, still remained a kind soul behind it all.

I want you to know that by now, I've read it twice over, and I'll be absolutely doing it again. Alongside all the one shots. No idea if it was intended that way or not, but they absolutely do read like a continuation of the main story.

I don't really have the words to describe how much I loved it and how I fell in love with every aspect of it. But I just need to thank you and your wonderful co-writer for giving us (well, me, personally😇) the privilege to read something that extraordinary🥰💙🥂

Hello lovely!!!!!

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to answer this. When I received this ask this week my face and soul lit up. It's so kind and sweet of you to take the time to write this and send it. I really appreciate you so much.

I'm so glad that you felt that the characters read like they were in their original MCU universes. It's something that I completely owe @thirstworldproblemss too she has an insane knack for storytelling and character voices that blows me away everytime. Between the two of us i'm the one living in London and yet I have a Transatlantic accent and I don't ever use British slang, and she was the one who had to britishify Steven and she did it with such skills I'm in awe of her always.

But also the characterisation of Marc, once again I owe so much to her, because she's the one who broke down the character and made me appreciate all the beautiful, heartbreaking layers of his character.

Red Flags has been such an absolute beast to write and taught me so much about long-form story telling and it has an incredibly special place in my heart and to know that people are still reading it, and that you had such a strong reaction to it fills me with immense joy. Thank you so much once again for reaching out! I adore you.

[thestarseersystem]

SYSTEM ANARCHY

Live by your own rules for your system, listen to true information and fuck everyone else!

SAGE GREEN (#AECBAD): neutrality, civility, respecting others unless they disrespect you, live and let live. Let yourself be free of discourse wars and enjoy your system how you want to. Everyone's experience is real to them, so let's be normal about it.

SKY BLUE (#66A0DD): freedom, wisdom, unique identity, finding understanding, wanderlust/adventure, learning new things, true information. Be the wanderer that you've always wanted to be, and have fun while doing it. We won't always find people who understand us, but we can learn how to understand ourselves. Research is important, we don't know everything, and our journey is about finding that out.

STEEL GREY (#6F828A): spectrum of systemhood, dissociation, multiplicity, acquired neurodivergence, survival. Some people want to heal, some people don't, some people want to change and some people would much rather stay the same. Everyone's relationship with their system is different, and we're dynamic and changing human beings, regardless of our willingness to change. It doesn't matter what your end goal is, or whether or not you've reached it. It doesn't matter if we are united or separated, we are systems.

CRIMSON RED (#820E0F): chaos, independence, following your own code, fighting back/self protection, rebellion. Anarchy is about doing whatever the fuck you want and believing in whatever the fuck you want. If people cross you, that's their damn risk to take. Fuck around and find out. Fight, argue or block at your own risk. You don't have to go along with what anyone else said. Forge your own path.

BROWN/DEEP GREEN(#1B1810): honesty, trauma, unpalatable symptoms, unmasking, not letting others define you, psych-critical. Sometimes symptoms fucking suck, and it sucks to be demonized for things you cannot change. This color represents not giving a fuck about what anyone else thinks. Flashbacks, nightmares, dpdr, repressed memories, everything. System symptoms SUCK, here's to coping and being as complex and as complicated as you want to.

Anyone is free to use my flag, whether you're anti-endo, pro-endo or syscourse neutral. If you have a problem with that, feel free to block me or ignore my post. And please do credit me and try not to repost it. I made this flag, and the term may not be unique, but I put a lot of thought into this flag. Make your own flag if you're so chuffed about mine. Also, don't be a dick, don't interact if you're going to be shitty towards others. Be respectful of me and others who use this flag. And yes, this flag is made by someone with a CDD (complex dissociative disorder) and that's how I label my systemhood, and thats how I view systemhood. But you're okay to differ. It is what it is. (btw if I blocked you, sorry, you can still use this flag as long as you're respectful + good faith, and please credit me.)