#using ‘I think the developers meant it this way’-type language

[noirandchocolate]

Y’know, it’s always frustrating in a fandom when a regular ol’ fan makes a claim or states a theory and couches it in terms of “the creators meant this” or “the creator said this,” providing zero actual evidence of the creator saying or meaning “this,” and then thereafter other fans who’ve read the post or heard about it through the grapevine just assume that yes, this interpretation is canon, because “the creator said so” or “the creator obviously meant it.”

This can of course also happen without the original poster making a definite claim the creator did something; they can even say, “I think the creator meant this,” and if enough people read and think “oh hey that makes sense” about the post, later on there will still be people who act like it’s not just a fan-theory, it’s canon somehow.

Frustrating when you don’t share what is essentially a headcanon that’s risen to prominence. (Especially when the creator has actually, provably said the exact opposite thing.) But really, it’s frustrating regardless, because like…nobody asks for evidence? Not “what is there in canon that supports this theory” but “upon what extrinsic proof are you basing your claim that ‘the creator said/meant’.”

Plenty of neat fan-theories and headcanons have some support in canon. But if you’re gonna say “this IS CANON because THE CREATOR SAID/MEANT,” you’ve got to do more than just say that!

(Except, I guess you don’t. Because people will just learn to parrot you without evidence anyway.)

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! alien!scientist & human teen!reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Dehumanization(?), non-human doesn't have human morals, experimentation, very brief mention/implication of violence/death, possessive behavior, and i cannot think of anymore :( once i write it down, its gone from my brain </3

additional notes; i don't think i've ever spoken about it on here, but i am a SUCKER for retro futurism. i love it so much, it's so funny watching old movies (cough cough blade runner) and get suckerpunched by the fact it's meant to be set in 2019??!? HUH?? i love retro futurism sm,, this is based more on the 50s/60s idea of it, more than the 80s version (cassette futurism) :]

i also had to take a screenshot of the ask, to try and allow the 'keep reading' button to work, please lmk if i should keep doing that!!

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

In the grand scheme of things, humans are pretty much the outer-space equivalent of a deep sea creature, in a way. Earth was never on the radar for any other type of people-- it was a place just out of their reach, and the ones who could, in theory, reach it, had no interest in it.

Until the Humans started coming to them, and it was hard to ignore it. Loud, noisy things they were-- it held a certain amount of novelty at first, like you'd feel after hearing that a fish found thousands of meters down in the ocean had suddenly washed up on a Californian beach.

But at some point, when beaches start to become covered in them-- when you could seldom get a look at the sand anymore, covered with what was previously unknown (and now known too well), it's expected to get tired of it all.

There are, obviously, language barriers. Some planets utilize rudimentary vocalizations, their biology not made to facilitate any sorts of complex languages, while others used gestures and body language. Some were telepathic,

'Michael', as he's come to be known, was apart of a race that were highly independent-- spread across the cosmos, not having a specific, designated planet. Their biology is developed in a way where they can achieve all sorts of communication. As long as they learn it, of course.

When humans first started reaching out to other races, many races adapted human names. Michael didn't have a name before, that's not something that his race did. Didn't have a gender either, but arbitrarily picked one for the heck of it.

He didn't particularly like or dislike humans, but found them interesting in a detached kind of way. When given the opportunity to join about 20-or-so other researchers, he didn't hesitate.

It was aggravating, dealing with other people after being happily solitary for so long; having to learn a couple different dialects as well, so he could communicate with who was most necessary.

They were studying human young, children-- in a pool of about 14 subjects, all within the ages of 13-17, he doesn't know what made him chose to take you as his charge.

At first, you were like all the others. Scared stiff, not knowing what was happening-- All of you were snatched from various human colonies, launched by different countries. The higher ups tried to limit any possible overlap in language, to prevent any possible coups and what not.

It's not like you were the easiest, or the most challenging. Some chose their charges on the base that they'd be easy to deal with, or that it'd be a reward challenge to have the charge warm up to them.

You were just there-- at first, he thought there was nothing truly special about you. He hadn't even bothered to learn your language, since it was proving just fine to communicate with you via rudimentary hand gestures and what not.

Until he observed you more closely-- there were some tests they did, to test the intellect of their subjects. You refused to participate, even under the threat of violence, starvation, or even termination.

At first, he assumed you just being stubborn for the sake of it. Until he put two-and-two together-- you were trying to get punished, because you knew they took you into a different sector of the compound to do so.

You were trying a very roundabout way of escaping, or maybe trying to get access to the main console and contact some help. There was a large chance you wouldn't make it, and you seemed to know it.

He caught onto it faster than the others, and had to put into solitary under false pretenses. No one would interact with you but him, unless given express permission.

That same night, he started learning your language. Something about you intrigued him, beyond just scientific reasons. You were probably a dime-a-dozen, humans were known to be incredibly stubborn, driven by emotions and often willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others.

Something about you was just-- he doesn't know how to explain it. His kind don't raise their young, not like humans do, or even most other races did. He'd never understood the instincts other races had toward their young, because, again-- his kind is very solitary.

Something about you made him want to protect you, to hold you close. Maybe he was a defect-- maybe it was him who was different, while you were perfectly normal. Maybe it was just right place, right time (or wrong place, wrong time from your perspective), that it was you he latched onto.

Or maybe it was something deeper-- either way, you weren't a subject in his eyes. Not anymore, you weren't disposable; he hopes he could make that clear in the near future, both by verbal communication, and by his actions.

Your solitary cell was more like a bedroom-- he'd started to have things imported for you, making it look like an average human young's room. He got away with it, because he claimed you were going to be a control group. Have you in an environment most similar to the one you were in before, to see if you got on better or worse than the other subjects. Held in a compound, of the likes they'd never seen before most likely.

It was a lie, in a way. But he got away with it-- you seemed put off by it, but that was understandable. Your language was proving a little more difficult to learn than he'd expected, so he couldn't just tell you the change in plans. You had a right to be wary of it.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

You write adrien as aspec right? In a narrative sense what's the difference between platonic and romantic relationships, once you remove sex as a factor. I'm having lots of trouble in that aspect without sounding amatonormative.

I do and I'm aspec myself, so I'll answer as best I can noting that this is a complex topic as well as deeply personal topic for many people. As such, this is not meant to be a definitive guide. It is, at best, a primer because I'm not going to be able to cover all the nuances of human sexuality in a Tumblr post. Before we get into it, let's define amatonormativity:

The widespread assumption that everyone is better off in an exclusive, romantic, long-term coupled relationship, and that everyone is seeking such a relationship.

Amatonormativity is a problem when people force it on you or make you feel bad for not wanting an amatonormative life. It is not a problem when someone chooses to live an amatonormative life and many asexual people make that choice. I'm one of them. Let's get into why.

We'll start with some high level discussion of attraction in its various forms as that's a big part of how sexuality works. While being asexual can mean that your romantic relationships don't include sex, that's not a hard rule. Asexuality is more complicated than that. To dive into that nuance, let's quickly go over the three different "scales" or "spectrum" that are useful for understanding how romantic and sexual attraction can work for different people:

Kinsey scale: the hetero to homo scale. The various categories here tell you where someone falls in terms of how sexual organs and gender expression plays into their experience with attraction. Are you bi, pan, hetero, homo, or somewhere in-between?

Aromantic spectrum: this spectrum helps us understand how people experience (or don't experience) romantic attraction. Do you fall in love or don't you? Are there specific conditions that need to be met for you to feel romantic love? All these things play into the identities in this spectrum.

Asexual spectrum: this spectrum helps us understand how people experience (or don't experience) sexual attraction. Do you feel sexual attraction or is that not a thing for you? Are there specific conditions that need to be met for you to experience sexual attraction? All these things play into the identities in this spectrum.

Each spectrum is its own thing, but they play together in complex ways. For example, a person can experience romantic attraction that seems to have no clear tie to gender expression while only developing sexual feelings for things tied to gender expression. That would generally put them under the panromantic heterosexual banner or the panromantic homosexual banner depending on the way they identify and the type of gender expression they're drawn to.

I use the term "banner" because I don't like to refer to these things as labels. Instead, I like to think of them as descriptors or broad categories because these words aren't meant to put people in boxes. They're too expansive for that. Instead, they give us a language that we can use as a quick shorthand to get across broad ideas.

It's like how we use the word green to cover a whole host of colors. My green may not match your green, but we both have a general idea of what that word means and also we know that it's sure as heck not red. When someone gives you the words that broadly describe their identity, think of it like a person saying "green." You now have a general idea of how sexual and/or romantic attraction works for them, but you probably don't have a perfect one. This is where we circle back to your ask!

In a narrative sense what's the difference between platonic and romantic relationships, once you remove sex as a factor.

All asexuality means is that you don't experience sexual attraction. It does not mean that sex is off the table. Some asexuals are sex repulsed, some are sex neutral, and some are sex positive to the point of being incredibly kinky. You don't need to experience sexual attraction to want some action! I know some non-sex-repulsed asexuals who are fine with casual hookups and others who will only do sexual things in a romantic relationship.

I fall into the latter category and it's how I tend to write Adrien because he's clearly a romantic. That doesn't mean that he has to be okay with sex! You can be extremely romantic while also being sex repulsed, but he doesn't give me those vibes so I go more sex neutral or sex positive with him. I actually switch between writing him as asexual and demisexual depending on the story and what I want to do, but for now we'll stick to how to write him as a non-sex-repulsed asexual who experiences romantic attraction.

If your goal is to write an asexual character who experiences romantic attraction and is not sex repulsed, then the main thing you're going to want to avoid is writing in sexual attraction which is not the same as sexual arousal or ascetic attraction.

To put that in clearer terms, Adrien won't get turned on from seeing Marinette in a pretty dress or a swimsuit because that's an example of sexual attraction. However, he still can appreciate that she looks nice. It's just going to be more like he's talking about a beautiful painting instead of his hot sexy girlfriend because the idea of finding his girlfriend hot and sexy does not compute.

He may still want to have sex with her, it's just not because he's turned on by her appearance. It's because he's in love with her and wants to share that experience with her or because they're physically touching and he got turned on or even just because he's independently horny! Those last two are the sexual arousal thing I mentioned above. Sexual attraction is not required for arousal to occur or even for arousal to be tied to a person! Sexuality is more complex that that.

For example, I have never in my life looked at a person and found them hot. The fact that people can do that is wild to me especially when it's with someone they've never met. Celebrity crushes are deeply confusing to me because you don't know that person. How can you be attracted to them? Does not compute!

Even though I'm incapable of experiencing sexual attraction, I still require attraction to be interested in sexual activity. If I'm not romantically attracted to you, then I am fully sex repulsed. Once I'm into you? I'm sex neutral and even occasionally sex positive depending on the day, but I still won't find you sexy which is why I call myself ace and not demisexual though I don't particularly care which one you use for me. I've had people tell me my experience falls under both banners which I can see, ace just seems more accurate. I often just say I'm on the ace spectrum or aspec and leave it at that. I tend to do the same when tagging characters sexuality just to keep readers from having very specific expectations that may not be met.

None of that is the universal ace experience. It's just how my specific subtype works and is why I brought up the various spectrums at the start. They all play into how a person's sexuality is expressed.

Since this was mentioned in your question, I'll note that I'd be totally fine in a sexless romantic relationship. I'd probably even be fine if the romantic part was one sided so long as my partner clearly cared about me and was committed to a life together. From an outside perspective, those situations really wouldn't look that different from a relationship that includes sex because, for many couples, sex is just one of many activities they do together. When you really think about it, asking how to write a sexless couple is kind of like asking how you write a couple who doesn't like hiking. They just don't go hiking.

You can leave out sex and still have a couple kiss, cuddle, and/or hold hands if you like, but even those activities aren't required for a great romance. People adore Disney couples and most of them barely even kiss on screen. What draws people to those romances is the characters' relationship since that's really what any great romance is about. The bond that forms between the characters as they face life together, ultimately deciding to keep facing life together till death do they part. The sexual part is just an optional bonus feature thus so many fans shipping couples who canonically never show any signs of romantic or sexual attraction.

That's obviously a lot of information to deal with, but hopefully it puts you on the right path. Feel free to send additional asks on this topic if you like. I love devoted relationships and have a penchant for writing characters on the ace and/or aro spectrum, so I've played around with all sorts of ways a character can identify while still being in some flavor of committed relationship though there are characters where I just don't think they'd be into that. Really depends on the way they come across to me and that's all that I'd worry about if you're worried about amatonormativity. I'd you truly think your version of the character would be happy in the life you've given them, then you're fine and I wouldn't stress about it. They're not real. You're not forcing them into a box against their will.

I'll end with my biggest piece of advice for writing specific sexualities and/or types of attraction: don't obsess with perfectly representing a given group because, as we discussed above, these are broad categories not scientific labels. Asexual means different things to different people. Decide what it means for the character you're writing, stick to that, and you'll probably be fine so long as it doesn't totally go against the broad idea of asexuality. It's fine if your character ends up in a committed monogamous relationship as many asexuals do that just like many don't. No character can represent an entire group perfectly because no person represents an entire group perfectly. We are all wonderfully unique in our own unique ways.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Headcanons about Dad!Halsin and his half-wood elf daughter

Note: The backstory for this is I just made a half-wood elf character in bg3 and then this came to me. A goldmine of a dynamic if you ask me. Also, Halsin is a girl dad, I will not elaborate. My ranger bias is strong in this one too.

Pre-Realization:

Everyone else but them sees it. Gale is probably the first to notice, making comments about their shared "earthiness." Astarion makes biting remarks about her "rustic charm," which she mistakes for genuine insults. Shadowheart suspects something after noticing how comfortable she is in forested areas and the ease with which she interacts with animals. Wyll just thinks they're both really good at tracking.

She's incredibly proud of her whittled pipe and the unique designs carved into it. Halsin, meanwhile, compliments it, saying it reminds him of pipes he's seen made in specific groves, never quite making the connection. She probably gifted the pipe to Halsin the moment she got out of the Shadowlands.

They're both drawn to helping injured animals or tending to damaged plants. They might even disagree on the best way to do it, leading to mild arguments about whether to use a specific herb poultice or let nature take its course.

She’s a practical Ranger, focused on survival and immediate threats. Halsin, with his Druidic wisdom, often tries to take a broader, more holistic view. This leads to friction in combat, with her charging in and him trying to strategically position everyone.

They both have a habit of absentmindedly pulling leaves or twigs off branches, often fiddling with them while talking. They might even mirror each other's body language in subtle ways, completely unaware.

Her version of the "wood elf" story is vague and dismissive, portraying her father as a distant, almost mythical figure. Halsin, oblivious, might even comfort her, saying, "Some paths are meant to be walked alone," completely missing the irony.

Post-Realization (and her initial horror):

She actively avoids him. Meal times become a nightmare. She hides in her bedroll and pretends to be asleep when he tries to talk to her.

She starts making sarcastic remarks about "over-enthusiastic tree-hugging" and the "joy of communal living," pointedly looking at Halsin.

Astarion finds the whole situation deliciously entertaining. He delights in stirring the pot, making deliberately suggestive jokes about Halsin and watching her squirm.

Halsin, bless his heart, tries to have "the talk" about wood elf mating rituals. She nearly combusts from embarrassment and runs off to the nearest tavern to get drunk.

Underneath the hardened Ranger exterior, she's secretly conflicted. This huge, powerful, respected Druid actually wants to be her dad? It's terrifying and strangely touching.

Building a Relationship:

She begrudgingly accepts going on missions with Halsin, realizing they're actually a pretty effective team. He's a tank, and she can pick off enemies from a distance.

She teaches him practical Ranger skills like tracking and trapping, while he teaches her Druidic lore and about the balance of nature.

He starts asking her about her pipe, genuinely interested in her process and the stories behind her carvings. This becomes a point of connection, a shared love of craftsmanship and artistry.

She eventually accepts him, but with very clear boundaries. No more "talks," no public displays of affection, and absolutely no bear hugs (days never goes by without Halsin squeezing her in his arms).

Despite her initial reluctance, she becomes fiercely protective of Halsin. Anyone who threatens him will face her wrath, even if she has to pretend she doesn't care.

They develop inside jokes based on their shared experiences and the absurdity of their situation. A certain type of mushroom might become a running gag, or a specific monster they struggled to defeat together.

He still embarrasses her sometimes. He'll offer unsolicited advice, brag about her accomplishments to others, and try to set her up with "suitable" partners (much to her horror).

Potential Quest/Story Arcs:

Uncovering the truth about her mother's life and her relationship with Halsin could be a powerful side quest. Did her mother keep her a secret to protect her from something? Did she leave any mementos or messages for her?

A situation arises where she has to choose between her Ranger code and her newfound loyalty to Halsin. Does she uphold the law, even if it means going against her father?

Halsin encourages her to explore her own Druidic potential, helping her unlock hidden abilities and connect with nature on a deeper level.

[abductedlawnchair]

*ranting and raving and stomping on rooftops and flailing my arms about* HUMANS ARE AMIMALS!!! WE ARE ANIMALS!!! QUIT ACTING LIKE WE'RE NOT!!!

I am so goddamn tired of society acting like we're not!!! I am so goddamn tired of us as a society acting like we are above all the other animals!!! I do not care that we are the apex!!! We are fucking ANIMALS!!! Like, just take a step back and observe us like we have our own nature documentary on Nat Geo or something. Maybe with David Attenborough or whatever, idc. Just imagine it.

We are a species of apes that just so happened to gain the ability of extremely complex and abstract thought, capability of language, an almost absurd level of self-awareness, and the type of intelligence that allowed us to discover, invent, and develop tools. A species of apes that just so happen to have such a crazy level of curiosity that we have the capability to learn about the world around us, and beyond.

The way we learn and develop is fascinating. If you observe a toddler from that standpoint, watching them interact with the world around them, you'd see how natural curiosity is to us, in our human nature. Neil deGrasse Tyson has literally said that children are beings of chaos because they're curious and learning about the world around them.

We all have children in us, just like we have our ancestors in us!!! Our brains are wired like theirs. Relatively, we have been in this state of society for an extremely short amount of time!! Our brains and nervous systems are still wired to survive and keep us safe from predators and other dangers!!

We are social creatures!! We need love and connection to survive!! We can't do things on our own. The only reason we ever got to where we are is because we work together and communicate and share knowledge. The way society is right now is too isolating!! Humans aren't meant to be fighting for a place in society!! Haven't you seen zookeepers?? Or anyone who cares for nature in any capacity?? We have an incredible capacity for compassion and caretaking, because we have the capability to know and understand the inner workings of ourselves and countless other species!! Caretaking and compassion is literally an innate human trait!! We're supposed to take care of each other and the world around us!! We literally are capable of pack bonding with ROOMBAS, for fucks sake!! Little robots that our ape brains see moving around on its own, being part of our homes, and thinks "little guy is alive... I love him"!!! Isn't that beautiful???

We were an evolution of Mother Earth, Herself, to grow Her and expand Her and care for Her!!! Whether you believe in intelligent design or just the absurdity of it all, it still happened like that. We have the capacity to care for Her in an evolved level, yet we're fucking it up so badly right now.

Indigenous cultures have always been on the right track. They've always been right about this. They have always known that we are all pieces of the same organism, just like the atoms and cells and organs and electricity in your body are all part of one body!!

And btw, culture is another HUGE part of us being social creatures!! Being expressive and creative and connected!! That's part of our nature!! We're meant to sing and dance and laugh together!! That connectivity of us being a collective is So Important!!! Making fun of people for being "sheep", or having "herd mentality" every single time is so stupid because yes!!! Yes that's EXACTLY how we are supposed to be!!! We are social creatures, remember?? The whole point is that we do things together!!!

I know how society is rn isn't the end all, be all, but it just breaks my heart that this Capitalism shit goes against some of the most beautiful parts of humanity!! We are animals!!! We are cute and curious and compassionate and social and we need warmth and sunlight and sustenance from the earth and water and sleep and shelter from the elements!! We have instincts just like everything else!! We came from the dust and we will return to the dust because we will always be part of the Earth, just like all the other animals!! And somehow, despite all odds, despite how robotic Capitalism wants us to be, our human nature seeps into everything.

Take care of yourself! You are an animal, after all! <3

*climbs off rooftop... for now*

[whirligig-girl]

The aliens arrived in their toroidal flying saucers--enormous gossamer-like structures big enough to put Jupiter in the hole. They projected bodies down to Earth on long threads, and complained.

"What happened?" they pleaded with our planetary scientists.

An awfully open-ended question, but the planetary scientists threw up their hands and explained the current state of the field, about the theory of planetary aggregation and various hypotheses to explain how each of the planets ended up where they are today. The aliens nodded along skeptically at times, but they seemed especially disappointed by the Lunar geologists.

"Excuse us," their leader said politely, rising into the sky towards geostationary orbit on a great thread.

And so it was for the next few decades that the aliens set to work correcting what they saw as the great mistakes of the solar system's formation. Perhaps Venus never cooled down enough to avoid a runaway greenhouse effect, or maybe something about its specific volatile mass had been off. Either way, it was the first to be treated. By the time it was done, perhaps 20 years in, it was a blue world with brown continents and white clouds. While another saucer had come to work its magic on Mars, the first saucer returned.

"Eh, we'll need you to give planet two a good head start with the whole biosphere thing. We hadn't bargained on life starting up there halfway through the lifespan of the Sun. If it's no trouble, that is."

A new habitable planet provided the space program no shortage of funding!

Mars was finished, just a few years later, a comparatively simpler job. The aliens advised humans not to interfere with this one just yet, to perhaps give it a few hundred megaannum or so for the life to diversify and develop before contaminating it.

But the saucers didn't leave. They seemed to drift throughout the inner solar system. They took some curious expeditions to Europa and Enceladus--robotic NASA spacecrafts recorded deep probing threads piercing the ice--but didn't seem impressed.

They kept returning to the Moon.

At last, the aliens projected down on their long threads to a university. "You're sure that's how it happened?" they said.

The lunar-planetary scientists showed the alien ambassadors rocks from the Apollo and Artemis expeditions, computer simulations of various types of giant impacts, of synestias and hours-long instant formations and debris disks and gas instability, of an oversized iron core and large low-shear-velocity-provinces.

"We think the water on Earth may even have been delivered through a giant impact from a KBO, though there's some concerns about isotopic ratios."

"No, no," said the alien. "The initial coorbital hypothesis is the correct one."

The alien sighed--it had picked up human body language well over the past 35 years--"This just won't do," it said. It left the building, shaking its head. "It just won't do."

The planetary scientists ran after the alien, as it started reeling its thread back. "Wait!" they said. "What are you going to do?"

"This Moon thing of yours just isn't big enough to hold onto an atmosphere. I'm afraid it's not good enough."

The aliens rose into the sky.

Within a few months the Moon had been lost from the sky, and a years later had been relocated to the L4 lagrange point. The aliens came back, apologetically. "Terribly sorry," they said, "We're in the final phases of the plan," they said.

The Earth Emergency Government representative stepped forward. "Final… phases?" he said.

"Theia was always meant to be a trojan of your Earth, you see. Something must have gone wrong when the gas disk dissipated."

"I don't understand," the representative said.

"My apologies," the alien said, "I'm used to dealing with your planetary researchers."

Many masses of threads now fell gracefully from the skies. When they touched down, they effortlessly bored deep holes. The ground shook. The representative's heart rate skyrocketed.

"It's just that we're going to have to repossess the planet Theia now."

[chaos-spectre]

I love the "ARK siblings" concept and I love cute lighthearted fanart of them being siblings but I feel like a lot of people forget that they literally canonically share a soul and that her death is, in my opinion, I think supposed to represent a part of one's self dying and that they're supposed to be, symbolically, a lot more than siblings.

I always saw Shadow's story as a symbolic way to express the way your inner child and innocence is sacrificed in order to survive complex childhood trauma. Maria's color scheme and the way she's written is, I think, clear to all of us how she's meant to represent innocence and youth. I mean, she doesn't really function very well as a stand-alone character or realistic depiction of a child, shes always been more of an.. idea.

I'm not sure if it was purposeful, but the moon's "Maria" are craters that formed from the moon repeatedly taking the hits of asteroids at it's points of gravity. These points of gravity attract asteroids and draws then away from the Earth. The craters are mostly on the side of the moon we see, so the dark side of the moon, or "shadowed" side is better protected because of that. I feel like this is an extension of Shadow and Maria's symbolism. She took the bullet for him, protecting him, the same way Maria takes the comets, and the same way your brain will sacrifice your inner child (or freeze/rush your mental development) in order to survive intense childhood abuse. I know it all sounds extreme lmao but at the end of the day characters and storytelling are used to explore and express hard emotions and I don't think this randomly tragic character sprung out of nowhere for the Sonic games, which, before that point, always had very lighthearted positive characters (except for the echidna extinction in the game right before Shadow's). Having a character that was easy to approach, yet could represent scarier concepts as a child-friendly stand-in, felt like a very important tool to me growing up. I just hope that that writing can be appreciated in his character, with an understanding of how messy production can be and how a character can get pulled between many different people and ideas. I do think this symbolism was intentional to some degree, especially when it gets to the blatant soul-sharing and how characters insist that Shadow can't be a weapon because Maria's soul (his inner child and true morals despite the damage done to him) makes him "good hearted."

There's other things that uphold this symbolism of Maria dying as representing his inner child being killed, like the rushed/suspended mental development in the face of trauma being illustrated by the fact that Shadow was forced into a dormant cyro slumber right after Maria's death, symbolizing the way he had to basically skip childhood or hit pause on development until he could escape the people controlling him. Much like how victims will have to pause everything and go on autopilot with only a goal of survival until they can escape their situation; only after they feel safe can they begin growing as a person and find their identity. In the Japanese language, there are different types of pronouns people can refer to themselves with instead of just "I" or "myself." In the Japanese dub of SA2, Shadow's creator said in an interview that he had been very insistent on Shadow using the pronouns reserved for young boys, despite Shadow's menacing villain role in the game, because he felt it was important to show Shadow's purity and his lack of experience in life so far. That "live and learn" theme.

And then in his self titled game, Shadow is searching for a way to reconnect with his past and to find the truth about this Maria person he keeps seeing in flashbacks, but in the end he throws away her picture and accepts himself as he is now, forever changed and stained by his past, but more than just a product of his situation. He is "all of him," including the negative impact he never asked for, and including the parts of himself he lost, but also the parts of himself he chose to become. Your environment and childhood shapes you even if you didn't want it to, but that doesnt mean you cant have control in your identity and recover your inherent nature once you've escaped the negative influence (nature vs nurture theme). He will never be the person he used to be, or could have been, (represented by Maria as a pure and untouched youth), but he still has a say in what that grows into.

I just feel like a lot of Shadow's identity issues and inner conflict stem from this whole soul sharing situation with Maria and that his character ends up inevitably being misunderstood if you water them down to just siblings. Especially considering that it was never answered if Shadow actually even ever met Maria or if they're just memories planted by Gerald or caused by the shared soul. In Sonic Battle, it's also said in Gerald's diary that not only do Maria and Shadow share identical souls, but that Gerald literally modeled Shadow after Maria out of his love for her. I'm not sure to what degree or in what ways, but Shadow is supposed to share purposeful similarities with Maria, likely through the content of her character and her morals. That's what makes them so much deeper than just psuedo siblings, he's not only made for her, but designed after her too. It can't really be compared to, for example, Sonic and Tails.

I also think its what makes Shadow's character so substantial and meaningful. His self titled game's entire theme was purity, morals, what is good and bad. This question of purity and morality spreads into his appearances in other stories too- This question that, if you were badly hurt in your youth and shaped by evil- does that leave you impure? Stained? Destined to continue that cycle of harm and cruelty? I think these insecurities feel very real and relatable, and that it's even more realistic that despite these insecurities, that hurt and damage is actually what fuels him to protect others. Just as he said in Sonic Battle, "There's no need to repeat past tragedies! Nobody else ever needs to go through the things that I have!"

Statistically (despite media portrayal) abuse victims RARELY become abusers, because they understand the pain on a deeper level and can't bring themselves to force someone else into experiencing that same pain, knowing the permanent damage it causes. However, childhood abuse leaves people socially stunted and conditioned to harshness, which causes them to accidentally hurt others without meaning to. Or they end up hurting people out of desperation if they feel endangered (like Shadow's "means to an end" approach where he'll prioritize violence if it means reducing the end-impact). Also, they are more susceptible to being abused again after escaping the first abuser, because they are so susceptible to manipulation- Just like how whenever Shadow does switch sides, its usually because someone manipulated him into it or literally brainwashed him. I think Shadow conveys all of this so well, and that Maria's true role is an integral part of it all that can't be ignored or misunderstood, or else Shadow ends up reading as unnecessarily violent or overly obsessed with her when you interpret her as just a sister-figure that he knew for... who knows how few years.

I think this symbolism runs deep with his writing. Just like Maria's meant to be that inherent purity and inner child, I think the black arms DNA is that stain that abuse or trauma can leave on you, that causes you to act out or feel like you're always holding back and trying to keep control over some darker part of yourself that was left behind in the damage done. Especially since they literally have a mind link with Shadow. In the Sonic Universe comic, they succeed in brainwashing Shadow and turn him against his friends. These mind-links, soul-sharing, and brain-washing from both Gerald and the black arms... To disregard the fact that he's deeply connected to these people on a metaphysical, identity altering level is to water down his character and leave it feeling as though his motives are too weak to justify his harsh actions. I've seen people poke fun at his amnesia or insecurity in his identity, as though his confusion isn't justified, and I think it's because people don't realize he has these... literal fragments of other people inside of him, that that's pretty much what he's made of, kind of franken-steined together between a little girl's hopes and morals, an alien race's hivemind greed, a weapon-hungry government and a revenge maddened scientist's painful grief, and even the chaos emeralds which we all know are spiritually whacky and potentially connected to another alien race's memories and energies (the ancients from sonic frontiers). With all of that going on, plus some amnesia mixed in and his memories having been altered by Gerald- I mean.. you'd be searching for the "truth" of your identity too, who you really are. And of course, prone to frustration and aggression, or even a "wish-washy inconsistency." I think there's always a constant tug of war inside of him and that his whole development was a game of tug of war between Gerald, G.U.N and the black arms too. "Am I a cure, am I a death-bringer, am I earth's protector, am I it's destroyer," etc etc

Idk I just think a lot of problems people have with Shadow's writing stems from not realizing how deep things go and what they symbolize. Not to say that something like his boom characterization is of good quality or anything, but I think it's unfair to call him inconsistent when a confusion in his own identity and purpose/goals is kind of the point. And I think people not realizing Maria's deeper, physiological connection to him and influence might be part of the problem.

[godsofhumanity]

I hc that the I place of acting "oh my god" as an expletive, they swear to the primordials; like the Olympians would say something like "Great Khaos!" and the Egyptians something like "What in the name of Atum is going on here?!"

As for whether the primordials can hear them say these things...

IDK but they certainly don't care about much of anything these days

i know you meant this just as a funny "haha" hc, but i am super excited about this because this ask is actually much more loaded than you might expect!!

the word profanity (like saying "oh my God" or "Jesus Christ") can obviously be derived from its adjective/verb form profane which is the act of being irreverent, or treating something sacred without the due respect (usually religiously motivated).

further, pretty much every culture everywhere has demonstrated the use of profane language although it isn't that well-documented since for a very long time in our history, and even really still today, profaning/swearing is not considered appropriate behaviour, so people generally didn't keep record of it.

now, down to the specific use of taking God's name in vain through the use of phrases like "oh my God", it probably developed from either; 1) people attempting to call to God, for example, when you see something shocking you might call to God for strength to cope with that shock, or 2) people trying to undermine the name which they take in vain (purposefully irreverent use). point #2 isn't really relevant to your hc but i just thought i'd list it anyways.

swearing is a term that we use interchangeably with profaning but in its original form, to swear is to make an oath. and i think this is STRONGLY related to point #1 about using God's name in exclamation as a way of calling upon God to witness what you witness.... and when you make an oath, you are promising to do something usually with someone to witness you and hold you accountable... this is more evident when people (well, not really young people) say "by God!". you call God to witness... you swear.

ok so what does that have to do with the ask? in today's society, the spread of Christianity means that pretty much all of us will first say "oh my God" and not really anything else-- how many people say "oh my Quetzalcoatl!"?? BUT.... just because that's the norm today, doesn't mean that it started with Christianity!!! in fact, the use of this type of swearing actually was observed during Ancient times amongst the Greeks and Romans themselves!!!

in this paper (pdf link), it's explained how important oath-making and swearing was to the Ancient Romans/Greeks, and how various gods' names would be invoked during oaths to hold themselves accountable for their promises (and threats). one of zeus' epithets was zeus horkios which means "Zeus of the Oath"-- so this highlights how central it was to Greek culture. ALSO, according to this paper (pdf link), invoking the names of gods was "not viewed by pagans as profane in the way "Jesus Christ!" can be for Christians," which actually gives rise to a lot more regular/diverse expletives. one example given in the same paper is the expression, "Hercules!". this is further recorded by Gellius (roman author, 125 ad - 180 ad), who gives examples of "by Hercules" and "by Castor" (read here). AND, of course, most of us would be familiar with the expression, "by Jove!", which has miraculously survived antiquity, and which ties in again to the calling of the gods via declaring their names to become witness to oaths. there are probably a lot more of these expressions present in plays and poems if you take the time to look.

ANYWAYS. my point is-- your hc is much more real than you might think, and so, i absolutely agree with it (as do many others!!). i have some of Meleager's brothers swear to Hades saying "what in Hades' name is going on?!" when they first see the Calydonian boar hee hee! but yeah. i think it really works :))

[existentialcatholic]

*Note: I use condition-first language (specifically “disabled individual”) rather than person-first (“individuals with disabilities”) in my post. This choice comes from my own experience as a disabled individual.

What does Catholic morality teach about respect for human life and the evil of euthanasia?

 I almost died from a head injury when I was sixteen. I was in a bike accident, hit my head underneath my helmet, and ended up in a coma for three weeks. When I woke up from the coma, I slept most of the day and could not walk, eat, or speak. In the first few years of recovery from my injury, I developed other conditions, such as pseudobulbar affect (uncontrollable laughing and crying) and central pain syndrome (chronic pain all over my body: think of feeling like you have the flu every day).

Over time, I have recovered much of my prior skills and am close to my level of functioning pre-injury. However, I recognize that many head injury sufferers are not as lucky. I think particularly of a young man named Nate, who suffered a head injury several years ago and is still learning how to walk and speak. I also think of the ninety percent of people with my type of injury who never fully regain consciousness. Groups of people within our culture exist who believe that these individuals should not be kept alive. By holding and speaking in support of this belief, they are proponents of euthanasia.

Euthanasia refers to “an action or an omission which of itself or by intention causes death, in order that all suffering may in this way be eliminated” (Declaration on Euthanasia, section II, paragraph 1). It is known more simply as “mercy killing.” Proponents of euthanasia argue that it is more beneficial for the individual and society to kill individuals in certain states of illness and disability. Those on the more severe end claim that these individuals are drains of resources, while those on the less severe end argue that it would be more merciful to grant death than a life with heavy suffering.

In this blog, I will answer four questions. First, why should we respect human life? Second, what does respect for human life entail? Third, why is euthanasia contrary to respect for human life? Fourth, how should the Catholic respond to proponents of euthanasia?

Why should we respect human life?

We should respect human life as a gift from G-d and for its inherent value.

First, from the extrinsic point of view, human life is “a gift of [G-d’s] love, which [people] are called upon to preserve and make fruitful” (Declaration on Euthanasia, section I, paragraph 1). One of my college professors taught my class that what is first in intention is last in execution (ST I-II, q. 1, a. 1, ad. 1). This professor maintained that humanity is the end and intention of creation: that which creation is meant to support. From this point of view, it makes sense to say that human life is not only a gift of the L-rd’s love, but the ultimate gift of His love. Both preserving it, by defending one’s life and that of others, and making it fruitful, by being open to the generation of new life, show honor to the L-rd’s gift by allowing other gifts to come from it.

Second, from the intrinsic point of view, “human life is the basis of all goods, and is the necessary source and condition of every human activity and of all society” (Declaration on Euthanasia, section I, paragraph 1). All human activities require human life. The dynamic nature of gift and reception that characterizes societal functioning springs from the fact that individuals are alive. As part of the system of society, they can grow, change, and gift who they are and what they have to the smooth functioning of society.

What does respect for human life entail?

First, respect for human life commands the negative order not to end human life unjustly. This order is summed up in the Fifth Commandment: “thou shall not kill.” The L-rd, not humanity, is the master of human life. We do not get to decide when our own lives end, and we especially do not get to decide when the lives of other individuals end. By definition, euthanasia is the choice to end someone’s life based on their state of health. Because the individual’s state of health has nothing to do with endangering the lives of others, to end his or her life based on such has no relationship with protecting the good of one’s life.

Respect for human life does not necessarily mean ending life under no circumstances. The Catechism explains the concept of legitimate defense in Sections 2263-2267, stating that legitimate defense of one’s own life is a right, and perhaps even a grave duty in the case of those who care for others. However, legitimate defense has no relation to the topic of euthanasia. Even if caring for a disabled or terminally ill individual affects the lifestyle and emotional state of a caretaker, this effect is not a sign to end the life of the individual in question.

Second, respect for human life implies a positive command to defend human life. In Catholic circles, we may hear that the Church defends life “from womb to tomb.” Jesus calls upon Catholics to defend the rights and the dignity of individuals and their lives. This imperative is the case with healthy and ill individuals, young and old, born and unborn. The defense of human life implies different actions, depending on the stage and state of the human life that we are defending. When the human life in question is affected by disability or terminal illness, for instance, standing for human life looks like standing against euthanasia. It could look like advocating for the long-term care and well-being of a loved one who is in hospital or hospice care. It could also look like asking one’s lawmaker to support policies that defend the well-being of disabled and terminally ill individuals.

Why is euthanasia contrary to respect for life?

According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, “The fifth commandment forbids direct and intentional killing as gravely sinful” (CCC 2268). As both direct and intentional killing, euthanasia is gravely sinful. The Catechism contains a section specifically devoted to the condemnation of euthanasia. The Church recognizes euthanasia as “putting an end to the lives of handicapped, sick, or dying persons” and condemns is as “morally unacceptable” (CCC 2277).

The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith reiterates “that nothing and no one can in any way permit the killing of an innocent human being . . . Furthermore, no one is permitted to ask for this act of killing, . . . nor can any authority legitimately recommend or permit such an action” (Declaration on Euthanasia, section II, paragraph 1). They explain that the action of euthanasia, which is the killing of an innocent human being, “is a question of the violation of the divine law, an offense against the dignity of the human person, a crime against life, and an attack on humanity” (Declaration on Euthanasia, section II, paragraph 1). To kill someone unjustly and unprovoked, no matter the circumstances, is wrong. Disabled individuals deserve a chance at life. Even if the individuals are not born yet, to end someone’s life on the basis of a health condition takes away that right to life and damages the contribution that proponents of euthanasia make to society.

How should the Catholic respond to proponents of euthanasia?

The Catholic should respond to proponents of euthanasia by insisting the goods that the lives of disabled persons are, and the goods that they deliver to the rest of society. As I stated above, preserving life shows honor to the gift of life by allowing other gifts to come from it. A proponent of euthanasia may argue that the life of someone who is gravely disabled or terminally ill cannot create other gifts for the good of humanity. In response to this argument, I would assert that the disabled and terminally ill have many gifts to give humanity. Just because someone cannot contribute to the economy in a traditional way, it does not follow that the person has no good to contribute to society. That would be an excessively utilitarian view.

In response to proponents of euthanasia, I would point out the many goods that disabled and terminally ill individuals give to society. According to Dr. Adam Green in “Disability, Humility, and the Gift of Friendship,” disabled persons can offer gifts such as teaching others about their dependence on the L-rd, helping them see relationships beyond utilitarian terms, and helping them recognize and come to terms with their own brokenness (Green, 2016).

Conclusion

When I was in college, a news story broke of a woman who gave birth to a child in a long-term care facility while in a minimally conscious state. For weeks, I would sit at lunch and hear people talking about the woman. Several times, I heard people wondering what the point was of “keeping someone alive” in such a state.

At the end of this blog, I hope the reader can recognize the value of the life of the woman in question. Even in a minimally conscious state, she contributes to the world through the relationships she has with those around her and what they teach her about humility, dependence on the L-rd, and what the gift of love means. We can recognize how the lives of all disabled and terminally ill individuals extend the same to those around them and to society at large.

Bibliography

Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. “Declaration on Euthanasia.” May 5, 1980. The Holy See. https://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_19800505_euthanasia_en.html.

Green, Adam. "Disability, humility, and the gift of friendship." Res Philosophica 93, no. 4 (2016): 797-814.

[wendichester]

𓂃˖ ࣪ 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤

˚₊‧꒰ა @redskies-7 ☆ dean winchester ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⋆˙⟡ where libra, virgo, virgo meets aquarius, leo*, saggitarius. ⟡˙⋆

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐

ꔛ. meeting each other,

✧ what’s the most likely way for you two to meet?

he saves your ass. no, really. your moon in virgo and sun in libra put you in a situation where you’re trying to help someone, probably a kid, and you get tangled in something supernatural by accident. dean shows up last minute with a shotgun and a smirk. you don’t scream. you give him a look. he notices that.

✧ are you a hunter or a civilian?

civilian, with serious potential. with that mercury in scorpio and mars in cancer, you feel things deeply and sense when something’s off. you’d get pulled into the hunting life not because you want glory, but because someone needed saving—and you couldn’t look away. it starts small. a salt line here. an exorcism guidebook there. suddenly, you’re keeping up with dean like you were meant for this.

✧ what’s his first impression of you?

buttoned-up, but fierce. his venus and moon in sagittarius clock your intelligence and your cautious fire. he’s intrigued by your stillness. most people panic around the unknown—you analyze. his brain: “quiet. smart. hiding something. probably thinks i’m an idiot.” he’s curious. and that’s rare.

ꔛ. friendship compatibility,

✧ how would the friendship be like?

you’re the anchor. your saturn and moon in virgo give you a calm, grounded presence that dean doesn’t know he needs until he has it. you don’t pry. you just exist, warm and steady, like a space he doesn’t have to perform in. he starts opening up. by accident. then on purpose.

✧ how would it begin?

you keep showing up. you help clean a wound. decode a weird symbol. research a curse. you never try to fix him. and that’s how you get in. friendship blooms slowly but beautifully—over diner coffee, side glances, and long silences that feel safe.

✧ quirks and fun things about it:

✶ he teaches you how to hotwire a car. you pretend you don’t enjoy it. ✶ you make lists. he makes fun of them. then steals them. ✶ you call him out with one eyebrow raise. he hates it. he loves it. ✶ your chaos is emotional. his is external. somehow it balances.

ꔛ. romantic compatibility,

✧ are you compatible? is there a chance for friendship to develop into more?

yes, but it’s all about emotional intimacy first. your mars in cancer means you won’t even look at him that way until you feel secure. and dean? well, he’s so used to people seeing the surface, he’s starved for someone who doesn’t want him that way at first. the minute you touch his hand without flinching, he realizes you see him. that’s the turning point.

✧ what type of relationship would it be?

protective. tender. unspoken. he’d go to war for you. you’d write down how to survive it. your love is expressed through actions, not declarations. he’s the shield. you’re the soft space he falls into when the armor comes off.

✧ what are your love languages according to the charts?

✶ you: acts of service, quality time, and emotional safety. you show love by being consistent. ✶ dean: acts of service, physical touch, and protective behavior. he shows love by keeping you safe and close. neither of you say “i love you” often. but when you do? it means everything.

ꔛ. scenario, ₊˚⊹౨ friends first, feelings later ৎ ₊˚⊹

you’re not even sure when it happened.

maybe it was that night in nebraska. the motel’s power had gone out. you were both stuck on research duty while sam slept. you handed dean a cup of coffee, and your fingers brushed his. he looked at you differently. for one second. but that wasn’t the moment. not really.

it was three weeks later, after a hunt went sideways and you patched up his ribs in silence. you whispered, “you could’ve died.” he looked up, eyes tired but warm, and said, “yeah, but you were there.” your stomach flipped. your heart stuttered. and suddenly you knew. you were falling.

he doesn’t say anything. not for a while. but one day he touches your hair—gently, reverently—and doesn’t pull away. that’s when you know he’s falling too.

ꔛ. overall, score : 8.7 / 10

you are emotional intelligence in human form, and he’s all fire and fight and old wounds. but you understand each other. deeply. slowly. you wouldn’t jump into love—you’d build it, piece by piece. you’d become his soft place to land. he’d become your sword and shield. it wouldn’t be easy—but it would be real. and if you let it grow? it would be forever.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

* since the birth time of dean hasn't ever been mentioned, I've placed him as a leo rising, since it's the sign that makes more sense to me.

[blueikeproductions]

This is around the start of the “second phase” of the anime, where the Four Treasures become reoccurring antagonists.

The Four Treasures are such a bizarre inclusion in Pokemon, where the HZ has utterly ignored them, as of typing, while the games never really… do anything with them. They’re just kinda… there, with some implications the story wanted to use them but just wasn’t able to as intended. The games have Raifort connected to them, though she also feels like a victim of scrapped plans, and while she guest starred in HZ, she didn’t get to do much there either.

In this version of events, Raifort is one of the reoccurring teachers that works with Ash, albeit with secret ulterior motives in connection to Explorers/Exceed. She does like Ash and his students, and wants nothing bad to happen to them, but her goals usually get in the way. She has an interest in the Treasures but isn’t as invested in that version of the story due to my focus on the Treasures’ rivalry with the Loyal Three, and also because I didn’t plan for it originally, I’ve been backtracking and re-examining SV’s story for some comic ideas during free time.

While she’s not here, although she was supposed to, Raifort is the one sending Ash and the others to investigate ruins related to Rakua and ancient Paldea. She usually accompanies the kids, though here she’s probably talking to Agate, who is still loyal to Master Gibeon at this point in the storyline.

Wo-Chein isn’t connected to knowledge specifically in the games, but I felt it would be fitting due to its tablets. All the Treasures can speak human language, continuing the trend of most legendary Pokemon being able to do so.

While I was working on the ideas for the Treasures, I realized a bit belatedly the Paradox Musketeers fit pretty well as counterparts to three of the Treasures. Iron Leaves is Wo-Chein’s counterpart, and besides helping Ash, has encountered Liko Blue’s group during this time also. Because of the need to keep the Loyal Three as their true rivals, the Treasures don’t think very highly of the tinker toys, and after individual encounters, are able to “permanently” deactivate them. (Though by series end, the light of Terapagos and Mega Evolution reactivated them, now on their Shiny colors.)

The Musketeers were developed by the ancient Rakuians as protectors of their empire, and fought against Master Gibeon’s future partner Zygarde. They also met Lucius (Liko’s ancestor) and Alisha (Ash’s ancestor) centuries afterwards, helping seal away the Treasures and Pecharunt with the Loyal Three.

Oh, the comment about the stench of Rakua and the focus on those characters is meant to infer Conia, Jessie, Alfie and Iono are also descendants of Rakua.

[thisworldisablackhole]

Embassytown, by China Miéville - 4/5

I don't think I've ever been more conflicted about a book in my life. Torn between 3 or 4 stars, but I’ll leave it at 4 while I huff my copium. I could sum up this whole review with a GIF of someone crossing their arms and saying “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed”. This is not a bad book, it just could have been so much better. It didn’t live up to its full potential because the plot doesn’t do justice to the world building, and that is why I am sentencing you to garbage duty for the rest of the week, son.

Good thing the world building is strong enough to carry most of the read. The first hundred or so pages were honestly the best part of the whole book. Our first person narrator, Avice Bennet Cho, introduces us to the sociology and politics of Embassytown (a human colony state on an alien planet) through a tapestry of past and present narratives. We get to hear Avice describe memories of her childhood growing up in Embassytown, and about her career as an Immerser (basically someone who can navigate through the pocket dimensions of space without getting sick). Through this we also get to learn about the strange ways and language of the Ariekei aliens who are native to the planet, and about their symbiotic relationship with the humans in which they trade medicine and other goods for Ariekene bioengineering (yes, there are weapons, buildings and machinery made out of sentient flesh, it’s awesome). We also get to learn about Avice herself, who honestly begins as a fairly compelling protaganist. Miéville subverts a lot of tropes in building her character without ever being showy about how “different” she is. In fact, most of the characters read as very normal, regular people, and I appreciate that level of detail to human behaviour. He even did a great job at writing one of the AI characters, Avice’s best friend Erhsul, who can imitate human empathy well enough to form real relationships while remaining frustratingly calculative and mechanical.

Arieka is genuinely the most interesting and well thought out alien world I’ve ever read about, and the book has such a clever narrative hook centred around the evolution of language being both devastatingly dangerous but also liberating and ultimately progressive. So why am I so conflicted?

Well, the main plot hinge is sudden and underwhelming (I think it’s meant to be a “small rock, big ripple” type of event but it’s not done very convincingly), and then the entire story from there on switches gears in a way that feels so counterintuitive to the setup. Things in the world begin rapidly changing, and the dual timelines coalesce into one present narrative. The scope of the story rapidly expands from interpersonal to factionary, and our once interesting, well developed protagonist gets flattened down to the personality of a news reporter—speeding through a list of current event headlines just to clock out of her shift a few minutes early. Almost 240 pages of “this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened” ad nauseam. It’s like sitting on a train and watching images flicker past. Sure, the landscape is visceral, and the quick pace keeps things engaging enough, but I couldn’t help but feel like the slow set up—the walk to the train, if you will—was where Miéville really shines. If the story would have just maintained a closer focus, and found some subtler avenue for expressing change, this could have easily been a masterpiece.

Fortunately, Miéville’s prose mostly makes up for his clumsy handling of narrative. He might be one of my new favourite writers on a purely sentence to sentence basis. He has a fairly lofty vocabulary, and also throws a ton of future slang at you without holding your hand too much, leaving you to search for context clues (this is actually a good thing that I enjoy), but he is also just a master at manipulating sentence structures to maintain clarity while still coming across as playful. There were so many sentences that I had to read twice or thrice not because I didn’t understand them, but because I was just fascinated by the clever wording. The prose itself was the second best thing after the world building, so even when the plot took a nose dive, I was still turning pages like nobody’s business.

Ultimately, Miéville hit a home run with the set up and then tripped and slid somewhere between second and third base, making for a highly entertaining but clumsy play. The fact that this book never lived up to it’s potential will be a thorn in my side for the rest of time, but I am still absolutely sold on Miéville as a writer, and can’t wait to read more of his works.

[aeithalian]

People know that Jason was aware of Leo's survival. What they're pissed about is that they never reunited.

The "purpose" of Jason's death was to make Apollo feel bad. It was not done to service his story or character development and in fact squandered any chance for that. That's not a tragedy, it's wasteful writing.

I said exactly what I meant: I have seen multiple times, across multiple types of media, people use any combination of the words: "it's so sad that Jason died without knowing Leo was alive". That misinformation specifically is what I'm talking about, coming from fans who didn't read toa and are getting their information from people who also didn't read toa. I understand not liking the fact that they never reunited, and please don't take this to mean that I'm not in that group of people, but the former statement is just not true, and that's what I find frustrating.

And we can argue all we want on the merits of Jason's death, and I dare say that no two people are going to completely 100% agree, so don't come back swinging if you don't. Personally, I think Rick wrote it to be a tragedy: Jason never got all of his memories back, never got to see Leo again, and never got to put his plans to recognize all the minor gods into action. To me, the fact that Jason died before he reached his goals (and this is true of any character death) is what makes it tragic. "Squandering" character development is almost synonymous to that, albeit with harsher language - it's an unfinished story is all it is. And 'wasteful writing' entails that Jason's goals were never realized, even after he died, but I'd argue that's kind of the point of the impact it had on Apollo's character, who promised at the end of the book that he would remember the promise he made to Jason and, by extension, keep his dreams alive. Yes, it made Apollo feel bad, and that is the only immediate aftereffect we see, but that is an aftereffect of death in general, even outside of fictional children's books. Yet to say that the only purpose of Jason's death was to make Apollo feel bad is an overgeneralization of the effect that it did have on Apollo's character. Jason's death was the major catalyst of Apollo's character development, and it's not like character deaths aren't used in similar ways across so many other types of storytelling - the only difference is the fact that Jason was an established character, which makes it sting more, which again, is the point.

Jason died in a story that wasn't his own, so of course his death didn't service him. But does character death really service anyone? To me, no. But that's what makes it tragic. Using the term 'wasteful writing' entails that it didn't have a purpose at all, which I'd argue (and anon disagrees with) is not true.

idk, just my opinion. feel free to add on, but please keep it respectful up in here.

[mariacallous]

Stories about AI-generated political content are like stories about people drunkenly setting off fireworks: There’s a good chance they’ll end in disaster. WIRED is tracking AI usage in political campaigns across the world, and so far examples include pornographic deepfakes and misinformation-spewing chatbots. It’s gotten to the point where the US Federal Communications Commission has proposed mandatory disclosures for AI use in television and radio ads.

Despite concerns, some US political campaigns are embracing generative AI tools. There’s a growing category of AI-generated political content flying under the radar this election cycle, developed by startups including Denver-based BattlegroundAI, which uses generative AI to come up with digital advertising copy at a rapid clip. “Hundreds of ads in minutes,” its website proclaims.

BattlegroundAI positions itself as a tool specifically for progressive campaigns—no MAGA types allowed. And it is moving fast: It launched a private beta only six weeks ago and a public beta just last week. Cofounder and CEO Maya Hutchinson is currently at the Democratic National Convention trying to attract more clients. So far, the company has around 60, she says. (The service has a freemium model, with an upgraded option for $19 a month.)

“It’s kind of like having an extra intern on your team,” Hutchinson, a marketer who got her start on the digital team for President Obama’s reelection campaign, tells WIRED. We’re sitting at a picnic table inside the McCormick Place Convention Center in Chicago, and she’s raising her voice to be heard over music blasting from a nearby speaker. “If you’re running ads on Facebook or Google, or developing YouTube scripts, we help you do that in a very structured fashion.”

BattlegroundAI’s interface asks users to select from five different popular large language models—including ChatGPT, Claude, and Anthropic—to generate answers; it then asks users to further customize their results by selecting for tone and “creativity level,” as well as how many variations on a single prompt they might want. It also offers guidance on whom to target and helps craft messages geared toward specialized audiences for a variety of preselected issues, including infrastructure, women’s health, and public safety.

BattlegroundAI declined to provide any examples of actual political ads created using its services. However, WIRED tested the product by creating a campaign aimed at extremely left-leaning adults aged 88 to 99 on the issue of media freedom. “Don't let fake news pull the wool over your bifocals!” one of the suggested ads began.

BattlegroundAI offers only text generation—no AI images or audio. The company adheres to various regulations around the use of AI in political ads.

“What makes Battleground so well suited for politics is it’s very much built with those rules in mind,” says Andy Barr, managing director for Uplift, a Democratic digital ad agency. Barr says Uplift has been testing the BattlegroundAI beta for a few weeks. “It’s helpful with idea generation,” he says. The agency hasn’t yet released any ads using Battleground copy yet, but it has already used it to develop concepts, Barr adds.

I confess to Hutchinson that if I were a politician, I would be scared to use BattlegroundAI. Generative AI tools are known to “hallucinate,” a polite way of saying that they sometimes make things up out of whole cloth. (They bullshit, to use academic parlance.) I ask how she’s ensuring that the political content BattlegroundAI generates is accurate.

“Nothing is automated,” she replies. Hutchinson notes that BattlegroundAI’s copy is a starting-off point, and that humans from campaigns are meant to review and approve it before it goes out. “You might not have a lot of time, or a huge team, but you’re definitely reviewing it.”

Of course, there’s a rising movement opposing how AI companies train their products on art, writing, and other creative work without asking for permission. I ask Hutchinson what she’d say to people who might oppose how tools like ChatGPT are trained. “Those are incredibly valid concerns,” she says. “We need to talk to Congress. We need to talk to our elected officials.”

I ask whether BattlegroundAI is looking at offering language models that train on only public domain or licensed data. “Always open to that,” she says. “We also need to give folks, especially those who are under time constraints, in resource-constrained environments, the best tools that are available to them, too. We want to have consistent results for users and high-quality information—so the more models that are available, I think the better for everybody.”

And how would Hutchinson respond to people in the progressive movement—who generally align themselves with the labor movement—objecting to automating ad copywriting? “Obviously valid concerns,” she says. “Fears that come with the advent of any new technology—we’re afraid of the computer, of the light bulb.”

Hutchinson lays out her stance: She doesn’t see this as a replacement for human labor so much as a way to reduce grunt work. “I worked in advertising for a very long time, and there's so many elements of it that are repetitive, that are honestly draining of creativity,” she says. “AI takes away the boring elements.” She sees BattlegroundAI as a helpmeet for overstretched and underfunded teams.

Taylor Coots, a Kentucky-based political strategist who recently began using the service, describes it as “very sophisticated,” and says it helps identify groups of target voters and ways to tailor messaging to reach them in a way that would otherwise be difficult for small campaigns. In battleground races in gerrymandered districts, where progressive candidates are major underdogs, budgets are tight. “We don’t have millions of dollars,” he says. “Any opportunities we have for efficiencies, we’re looking for those.”

Will voters care if the writing in digital political ads they see is generated with the help of AI? “I'm not sure there is anything more unethical about having AI generate content than there is having unnamed staff or interns generate content,” says Peter Loge, an associate professor and program director at George Washington University who founded a project on ethics in political communication.

“If one could mandate that all political writing done with the help of AI be disclosed, then logically you would have to mandate that all political writing”—such as emails, ads, and op-eds—“not done by the candidate be disclosed,” he adds.

Still, Loge has concerns about what AI does to public trust on a macro level, and how it might impact the way people respond to political messaging going forward. “One risk of AI is less what the technology does, and more how people feel about what it does,” he says. “People have been faking images and making stuff up for as long as we've had politics. The recent attention on generative AI has increased peoples' already incredibly high levels of cynicism and distrust. If everything can be fake, then maybe nothing is true.”

Hutchinson, meanwhile, is focused on her company’s shorter-term impact. “We really want to help people now,” she says. “We’re trying to move as fast as we can.”

[ultravioart]

I seriously wonder what Juno's lore will bring to Overwatch. Mars is Overwatch's first step into the greater cosmos. For context: Project Titan and early Overwatch ideation had an alien invasion angle! I wonder if Overwatch will take on a Martian invasion plotline? Does Sombra's eye conspiracy have anything to do with Mars?

--

iirc the Genesis shorts showed Aurora's ascendance shooting a beam into space, and twinkling stars.

Not that it would make great sense for omnics to be in space at that time during the omnic crisis, but it does make me wonder if there were any omnics capable of being awakened out there?

--

Furthermore, Juno's kit + hair has these spacey cosmic patterns. Is this a technology or energy type unique to Mars? I am really interested in that. Is this energy something harvested only on Mars, or was this tech invented on Mars?

Lastly, a Juno voice line confirmed the Mars station lost contact with Lucheng for an unknown reason. This implies Juno came to earth as a scout, probably to reconnect Mars with Earth again. It makes me wonder what Mars is like, considering Lucheng was involved (Winston and Wrecking Ball were tortured on the Lucheng Lunar station). Is Mars filled with Lucheng propaganda as an eery 'utopian' mission? Or is Mars a rejection of Lucheng and actually is moral? Did Lucheng cut contact? Did Mars cut contact? Did the remaining space-apes on the Lunar colony cut the contact between Mars and Lucheng? (the apes were building some new structure, after all...)

So many questions!

Critical stuff below:

I was a bit sad that Juno had an American accent though. Irl there are unique accents astronauts develop due to the required languages on the stations. And since Lucheng is a Chinese company, it would have been cool to see an English + Chinese creole or accent for Mars. I did notice Juno does not use contractions though! That might be a Martian dialect trait. There is also something to be said about Juno's design represent a Chinese and Vietnamese character (her rig is too similar to certain characters imo).

Based on her design, I expected a more serious scientist ('Space Ranger' with muted colors and punk hair made me think this) but I will have to wait to see Juno's concept art to see if she was always meant to be bubbly or not.

I also think her final design is a downgrade. The white armor on the arms and hips helped balance the design, without them it looks unbalanced. Her current suit leg design is overly detailed/busy. Plus she slow mo walks, and with the armor removes + the animation + skin tight suit it puts focus on her ass LOL. I don't mind fanservice characters (Tracer is well done imo), but I hope Juno wasn't "poster girl"-ified in place of a more layered character that fit the lore better. Again, I will have to see concept art to see if Juno was changed in such a way before placing my final judgment.

Regardless, I hope Juno gets some cool skins on launch. And I seriously hope we get an origin short story (Venture got an animation instead of the staple shorts that connected all the overwatch heroes together) because a bio doesn't do the character justice. I think a Juno skin with pink hair would be super cute!