#(anyway absolutely brutal but I can't say I feel THAT bad for him after All Of That)

[jq37]

no but seriously the whole david thing was so fucked up, and it's especially wild how it comes right after book 19 and cassie's deal with aftran, where we are shown the "humanity" of the evil brain slugs, and then right afterward we get three books showing just how evil these kids have become just by virtue of the way they've been forced to fight (do you think they'd turned fourteen yet, when they exiled a kid their age, because they'd forcibly recruited him just as they'd been recruited, and he didn't handle it like they did?)

This has been sitting in my ask box for a bit because I wanted to fact check my memories but woof. I don't know that I would have handled David any better at 14 or now for that matter.

Especially after the Saddler incident. Like we saw some humanity from a Yeerk in book 19 and then some REAL Yeerk behavior in David choosing to steal this poor kid's identity and life--literally throwing him down an elevator shaft to finish him off. Not just any kid either--Jake and Rachel's cousin. Their obnoxious cousin who sucked but still. Their flesh and blood family.

The thing that really gets me about The Solution is, at the end of the day, it's Cassie's plan. Cassie, the kindest most empathetic member of the group, is forced to use that empathy with brutal efficiency to figure out how to play emotional chess with this fellow kid huge amoral liability and it works. It works exactly according to plan.

But she has to live with that. Cassie, the tree hugger, the vegetarian, the one who was willing to sacrifice her life for one stranger three books ago has to live with the knowledge that she did this (knowing full well what the lifespan is of a rat as opposed to a human boy) and she has to live with that knowledge for a long, long time.

Anyway I don't know about evil, but ruthless? Oh yeah.

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[redr0sewrites]

Sick!Hazbin Hotel x Reader Hcs

i love reverse comfort sm. im also currently being brutally murdered by allergies but i prefer comforting others so here we are

🥀 Cw: fluff, crack, teensy bit of angst with comfort

🥀 Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader, Adam x reader

Lucifer:

sick? him? please, the king of hell doesn't get sick!

thats what he claims anyways

lucifer brushes nearly everything off as just plain allergies, he could literally have a 103 fever and be shaking on the floor and would still be pouting and saying he's fine

the thing about him tho is that he's easy to take care of- after a little coaxing lucifer just sighs and nods glumly before pretty much submitting himself to your care

once he's admitted hes sick tho, he wants you around him 24/7

lucifer wants cuddles, hugs, kisses, he just gets so clingy when he's feeling under the weather

THIS MAN LITERALLY BURNS UP WHEN HE'S SICK ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE ONES WITH THE HIGHEST RAGING FEVERS THAT LAST FOR DAYS like he'll be sweating and shivering and crying he gets hit HARD when he's sick and it happens so suddenly too- like one day he's fine and then the next he looks like he's one small wind away from collapsing

he lowkey feels bad about asking for things when he's sick so he'll say something offhand like "yk im in the mood for soup" and hopes you get the message

ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE TO GET FEVER DREAMS AND START RAMBLING WHEN HES SICK

like he'll wake up from a nap and still be half asleep and he just starts genuinely rambling about literally the most obscure things

lucifer definitely gets nightmares even when he isn't sick, but when hes feeling like shit and is so delirious he can't tell reality from fiction? be prepared for him to wake up crying and shaking, he just gets so so scared :(

lucifer feels bad about you taking care of him and wants to help, but will lowkey end up pushing himself too hard. PLEASE reassure him and tell him it's alright he'll literally melt

once its all over, lucifer will genuinely trust you more after you saw him in such a vulnerable state and is much more likely to come to you instead of hiding how he's feeling in the future

Alastor:

alastor? weak? lmao no

he would literally rather die than admit he's sick like he would literally just keep pushing on

alastor is one of those people that has an iron immune system like he VERY rarely gets sick but when he does its like torture

to even be alastor's partner you'd have to know him for a long time and you'd probably be able to read him pretty well (at least compared to other people), yet even you sometimes miss his sickness in the earlier stages

alastors biggest tell tale sign of being sick? exhaustion. he very rarely sleeps on the regular, but when he's sick that all catches up to him

he also gets more irritable and a little less composed, he'd be more prone to getting angry and would lash out if anyone asked if he was ok

alastors ears would also be turned back slightly, like most animals do when they're being aggressive, but its pretty much only obvious to people who know him closely

alastor never wants to be vulnerable or weak but you notice that his eyelids keep drifting of their own accord, and how irritable he's been, and it clicks to you that he's obviously not feeling well

approach him about it in private, while alastor does trust you he still doesn't want others to knowm

no matter how much you try he will not lay down, take medicine, or do anything (at least at first)

alastor genuinely thinks that he can just push through on his own and lowkey thinks you're worrying too much

however after two weeks of pure suffering and exhaustion, combined with no sleep and your irritation at his lack of will to take care of himself, alastor finally breaks

he'd prob come to your room at like 4 in the morning and just curl up on the edge of the bed, shivering a little but staying quiet

you wake up to him fast asleep, his ears twitching every once and a while as he rests peacefully near you

get a cool towel and lay it on his forehead to break the fever, and he'll just keep sleeping

he probably wouldn't wake up for at least a few hours, months of lost sleep are catching up to him at this point, giving you the opportunity to make him some soup and medicine

alastor will stir a little when you get out of bed but wont wake up, but once he does wake up he wants you to come back

when he's sick he wants you to be nearby, alastor isn't the touchiest person and being sick makes him feel gross, so he wouldn't want to be touched but would want you arround just to know you're there

this is probably the first step in him being more open to vulnerability around you, and while it may have been a bit of an irritating process to get him back to his usual healthy status, it's definitely worth it as he begins to trust you more

Vox:

lowkey a man child (affectionate)

vox is one of those guys who will take care of himself when he's sick, but he'll complain about it every step of the way

i think he's pretty responsible when he's sick, he'll take the day off and relax but won't do much other than that

he likes when you pamper him though, and a part of him lowkey enjoys being sick because he just gets to have your full attention all of the time (as if he doesn't already💀)

vox would be irritated about showing weakness and not being in control, but he wouldn't be irritated at you

if an employee was being too nosy about his wellbeing? yea he's pissed but if you're the one taking care of him, he'll just sigh and let you do what you want

VOX IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHOS LITERALLY ALWAYS COLD AND ITS AMPLIFIED WHEN HES SICK

he becomes like a literal ice cube he's SHIVERING and everything

vox has the cutest sneezes too, he glitches out and denies how cute his sneezes are but they really are adorable

vox takes like 2 baths per day when he's sick he hates feeling unclean, and def wants you to join him in the bath (just to relax, get your mind out of the gutter)

vox would be a little pissed about missing work, i think he's a bit of a workaholic and might try to work in bed or sneak some paperwork behind your back

it doesn't work though because he just ends up passing out anyway

vox is big on sleeping when he's sick he's definitely the type to just sleep it off and thats that

like he CRASHES in bed and just does not get up for hours

he sleeps like the dead too, his screen is blank and he barely moves in his sleep

like lucifer, he has fever dreams but they lean more on the weird side rather than the sad side

its funny but instead of talking more when sick, vox actually talks much less. he starts getting super quiet and a lot more needy for your attention

vox is more than happy to return to work and be back on his feet, but will send you a little thank you gift and pamper you in return for taking care of him

Adam:

manchild x2 (also affectionate)

adam DREADS getting sick like he genuinely hates it so much, he sees it as one of his own flaws and it makes him lowkey disgusted at himself

he whines like a baby over a common cold, its almost sad how the slightest sickness will make him act like he's on his death bed

adam whines and complains whenever you aren't around him, he wants cuddles and kisses and is 10x more clingy when he's sick

he has little to no appetite when he's actually sick but gets a huge appetite right after

like you'll have to force him to eat at least a piece of toast per day while he's actually feverish but once he's in recovery he's literally FAMISHED and will ask for so much food

he barely eats or drinks while hes sick it just feels icky to him

i also think he's the type to not want to move like he just collapses on his bed and barely moves an inch (unless you force him)

adam exaggerates when he's barely sick and then underplays it when he's genuinely really sick its lowkey so confusing

like he could have pneuomonia and be half dead and say he's fine but he could have the most common cold and complain foreverrr

he doesn't think you're genuine when you say you want to help him and take care of him, he thinks its just a joke since nobody has ever really taken care of him before

like sure he's been told what to do and bossed around and treated him like a foolish child, but no one has ever sat with him while he's sick and held his hand yk?

while he can be irritable and annoying while he's sick, he apologizes afterwards

its one of the few times he ever apologizes but he genuinely feels bad about lashing out

adam isn't used to being below someone when it comes to status or health and relaxing and letting someone else take care of him is kind of foreign for him, but you both work it out over time

while he isn't the easiest to take care of, he genuinely appreciates that you want to help him and wants to return the favor someday

I WILL MAKE A PT 2 OF THIS WITH MORE FEM CHARACTERS OR WITH HELLUVA BOSS CHARACTERS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO CROWD UP THIS POST TOO MUCH!!!!! ALSO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES I WROTE THIS WHILE HALF ASLEEP ♥️ HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS TEEHEE

[marchofmistria]

Hey I saw your requests were open and wanted to ask you if you could a do how would the bachelor's react to reader's/farmer's fuck ass haircut? I just cut my own bangs and it's all crooked and need some comfort 🥺

Hey I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox for so long!! Thank you very much for sending, this was so funny to think about. Hope your bangs have grown out since :') 

March

You already know March would be brutal. He's not good at expressing himself and, especially before you're an actual couple and he starts to put effort into not hurting your feelings, he wouldn't think twice about insulting your haircut.

If you came up to him after ruining your hair, he wouldn't be able to hide his confused scowl and ask "what did you do to your hair?" 

If you find it funny and laugh, he'll probably laugh as well and continue teasing you. He'd probably say something like, you shouldn't be allowed to smelt hot metal if you can't even cut your bangs correctly. 

He would laugh if you met him where he was and teased him back, especially about how he can't dye his own hair so he shouldn't be talking. 

If you had a different reaction, however, and got upset or embarrassed and walked away, he'd probably reflect on how you were likely feeling pretty self-conscious and realize that was a low blow.

He'd apologize next time he saw you, rolling his eyes and attempting to fix his comment a bit by saying "at least hair grows back." 

Ryis

Ryis would probably notice it right away. He pays close attention to you, and he can likely tell you're feeling self-conscious. 

He'd try to preserve your feelings the best he could. He'd ask about it lightly and casually. "Hey Y/N, did you get a new haircut? I like it."

You'd definitely blush and get super embarrassed, saying that you know the haircut sucks. Even though Ryis might secretly agree that it's not exactly the best look, he definitely would not agree to you putting yourself down like that. 

"What are you talking about, it's fine! You always look nice, so your haircut doesn't really matter, anyways."

If you're truly upset about it, he'd continue to reassure you and tell you that you look beautiful regardless. But thankfully hair does grow back if you truly don't like it!

He'll continue to compliment you as it grows back so you don't doubt whether he still finds you attractive. 

Eiland

Eiland is a sweetheart and would try to calm you down if you were upset about the haircut you gave yourself. A lot of reassurance about your beauty and his love for you regardless. 

He'd probably start telling you some interesting facts about historical hairstyles of Aldaria or something, as a way to distract you. You may or may not find it annoying in the moment. 

If you're still feeling unhappy, he'd offer to pay to get your hair fixed by Vera or some other expensive hairstylist in the Capital. 

He'd continue to attempt to reassure you that you look very pretty regardless and this sort of thing happened to everyone! In fact, he read on an Alda-period stone tablet that a woman once cut her own hair and....

Balor

It's rare that Balor loses his cool charm, but you see it waver in his face for a moment when you first see each other after the haircut. 

He'd try to deny it and turn the charm all the way up to compensate, telling you that you look absolutely radiant today (even though you look beautiful every day!). You'd see through it right away and call him out on it. 

He may try to deny it at first, but eventually agrees that it's not the best haircut. He does emphasize, however, that even something like a bad haircut couldn't detract from your beauty at all and you do still look lovely.

He'd hold back a bit of a laugh when you give him a blank stare from behind your crooked bangs, though. 

He just happens to generously gift you a set of beautiful gold hairpins from the Capital. Perfect timing. He'll tell you the hairpins compliment your eyes very well once he's no longer distracted by the funny-looking fringe. 

Hayden

Hayden wouldn't even notice honestly. He always thinks you look beautiful and wouldn't sweat small details like that. 

If you came to him and showed him how you messed up your hair, he'd probably laugh and tell you not to think anything of it!

"I cut my own hair all the time, Y/N. It's probably a mess but that's just fine by me!" He likes you however you are, with whatever you decide to do with your appearance.

If you were to tell him that you thought you looked unattractive or that you were embarrassed and didn't want anyone to look at you, he'd get genuinely upset. He truly doesn't understand how you don't see yourself as beautiful, and especially over such a small thing!

He'd continue to tell you not to pay it any mind, that hair grows back, and that no one would even notice. He genuinely thinks the latter because he wouldn't have noticed it had you not pointed it out. 

He'd lend you one of his big hats to cover your hair with while you wait for it to grow out, if you wanted. 

[randomalistic]

first off. i can't believe that i already followed you- your spam blog -and didn't know.

second. i literally just had a dream shere i was rambling to someone about turbo using stuff from your essay. apparently it rewired my brain so hard it, and you, manifested in my dreams lol (i even made a bad joke that "you can say he's Turbo-tastic!" hah)

and congratulations on making such great work of art that is the essay, you can feel and hear the love(and hyperfixation) poured into it.

i do wonder tho, what was the hardest part when making it?

I’m so glad you enjoyed it yay :)❤️ and also recognized me from my sneo blog LOL

I feel that so horrendously much. I legit had a dream a few nights ago about someone APPROACHING ME cuz they recognized my voice from the essay (girl get an ego check) but they then said “dude it’s so obvious you’re into him” or something. And I was like. 🧍‍♀️Well you don’t have to say it out loud

Anyways you’re not the only one cuz the video haunts me too. even after its birth.

The hardest part?? Oh Man. Can I say Everything.

There were a few stretches that were REALLY TOUGH. short answer: Entire first half of the video. Also the longer parts like the Manipulation section, Turbo reveal section, and the Cybug King Candy section. I had a lot to say for these and it was tricky to condense it into something Comprehensible

Long answer:

I completely overhauled the entire first half of the video (EVERYTHING before the kart breaking scene) because I wasn’t satisfied with the writing/delivery etc. (Which was a good choice because my arguments were pretty half baked before) but oh my god that was like a week and a half of 7 hour recording and rewriting sessions it was brutal. Especially annoying because those arguments were super old and I was getting sick of thinking about them. So instead I used them as a backbone to structure better arguments and revamp the script so that kept me from going insane. However it was also really fun because I got to see my old ass arguments finally be explained to their fullest capacity. And also I got to write shit like ☝️🤓Excuse me sir your turbo is showing..

The biggest issue with this being my first ever video essay and it taking so goddamn long: you could SEE my writing/editing/voicing skills improve over the span of the video itself. Which is really cool improvement wise but REALLY . REALLY BAD CONSISTENCY WISE. Like the first half of the video is the part people are gonna see first. It SETS EXPECTATIONS. IT HAS TO BE PEAK

I think I re-edited the synopsis upwards of 5-6 times. Which makes sense as that was like the first thing I started the project with but ouhvhhhgghghr. Making a section from scratch is WAY easier than going back and having to redo something

Early on I cut out an entire fully edited/scripted/recorded 3 minute section of me talking about Megamind and its sequel because I realized. This is pointless and everyone has TALKED ABOUT MEGAMIND BEFORE AND THIS HAS NOTHIBG TO DO WITH WRECK IT RALPH. There were a lot of scrapped ideas

Audio was also really challenging, just entirely. Making sure the levels were consistent (I had absolutely zero voice volume normalization I did it all manually 😭 I’m gonna have to figure out how to do that) Also just the concept of recording my voice and having to speak out loud in a space was Real Bad for my anxiety but You Do it Scared. Had to wait until I was home alone or like 99% sure I was alone before I could say anything without worrying. Also training my voice to sound engaging and consistent was so hard and it took maybe 6 months for me to get it down. Also I had no fucking idea where to record, like at first I was recording in a CLOSET (and later under a piano??) and then I was wondering why my lines sounded so weird. Then I realized I could just Record in a room and it would sound JUST FINE. So basically uhhh every single part was the hardest part. But it was worth it and very fun I think 🫶

[gloriousburden]

Hey!! I just wanna say your takes on Loki are super refreshing to read, and they cleared up my mind a little! Maybe this sounds a little stupid but I got so confused after rewatching everything (+ watching the series and I feel like that was the breaking point xd) and since I didn't read anything nor any opinions I was. Just lost in these jambled thoughts because I couldn't figure out Loki's character well since he just feels so... so different after Avengers/TDW and I really couldn't tell wtf was going on with him for a while until I sat down and deconstructed everything since it was so bad?? Maybe it's just me and I'm slow but I seriously never had that experience with a character I fixated before and I can't tell if it was because how badly Loki was handled by his writers or it's just me being scatterbrained or both 😭

Anyway thanks again this isn't anything new just wanted to let you know,, your/others takes in your posts are the ones that resonate the most with me and I feel less alone lol when I read some of them on other platforms it's either too much shipping or just... things that don't really make sense to me xd

So yeah, there's no take here, but thanks if you read!! You don't have to answer 🫰

Hello! I am so glad to hear that I could help. I know that feeling all too well, and it’s exactly why I started posting on here. Watching each weekly episode of the series as it was coming out was torture. It was like a punch to the gut every single time that they belittled Loki, mischaracterized him, hinted to the romance with Sylvie, had him consistently forgive the characters who treated him like shit, and took it all in a direction that… had absolutely nothing to do with Loki.

I fell in love with Loki’s character around 5 months before the series came out, and everyday I mourn what the fandom used to be despite the short amount of time I experienced it the way it was. Of course there was mischaracterization, but never was it as widespread as this.

In all honesty, the series turned me off from liking Loki for a hot minute. It disgusted, angered, and saddened me so much. I lost the ability to enjoy watching or interacting with anything related to Loki because I was reminded of it all each time. I remember watching the finale feeling complete fucking shock and a sense of dread. On top of all that bullshit… there’s going to be a season 2?! 🤦🏻‍♀️

I took comfort in the shared reaction and negativity Loki TikTok (at the time) had to it lol. What annoyed the shit out of me also was people beginning to ship Lokius/Sylki. You saw what both of those characters did to him, why ship them? the shipping bullshit is the worst. What happened to people liking Loki for JUST BEING LOKI?

I had that same confusion. How could this be Loki at all, but especially Loki after the events of THE AVENGERS?! This couldn’t even be Ragnarok Loki, so how could it be Loki DIRECTLY after/during his most villainous? I just kept thinking to myself.. Loki is intelligent. He is strong. He is more than what they represented him as. And he never deserved any of that. He is playful, of course. But he is not a buffoon who lets others walk all over him. He doesn’t deserve to be the laughingstock in a series that was supposed to uplift him. No other character was “humbled” in their own series like this.

Like you said, you’ve never had this experience with characters you’ve been fixated on before. I felt the same way. I had many favorite characters who were killed off, yet their deaths weren’t as brutal to me as the character assassination Loki was put through. I think I posted something along the lines of that. That all of this has made mourning Loki’s actual death in Infinity War so… weird.

The next months or so, I tried getting back into loving Loki. Which as you can probably tell… it worked. But I was still so disgusted by the series. I would pace around my room thinking of Loki rants in my head, and I’d write them down in my notes app just thinking… ‘well that doesn’t fucking add up.’

What helped was knowing there were others that shared the same feelings that I did.

I began lurking on this side of Tumblr, reading everyone’s posts (and even masterlists) of reasons why the series was so fucking garbage, and how it did absolutely no justice to Loki’s character.

It helped me realize and identify the reasons why the series upset me so much. It also helped me learn more about Loki’s character in general, to which I fell more in love with him. It helped me feel less alone, and I wanted to voice my own opinions as well. I felt so lost, and I really wanted to connect with others who felt the same.

Eventually, I began posting my own rants as well as following a bunch of other OG Loki fans who primarily focused on Loki’s character before the series (as well as before Ragnarok.)

These were people who understood Loki, and loved him as much as I did. I found community, and everyday I am so grateful for everyone here. I was (and still am) heavily fixated on Loki, and the mischaracterization would irk me so fucking badly. The lack of love for Loki for who he is, outside of ships and fanon, hurt me. He means a lot to me even if he is just a fictional character. I see myself in him.

So… long story short, it really means a lot that I could play a part in helping you out with your own confusion and feelings of loneliness through all of this bullshit. It’s the same thing I went through a few years ago. Wanting to help as well as wanting to connect with others who felt lost and hurt like I did, was why I started posting on here. It’s a bit of a full circle moment for me lol.

Other platforms are DREADFUL. I think I’ve said this on here somewhere before, but Pinterest has a lot of OG Loki content, and I find it easier to avoid the series related stuff. I recommend checking it out if you haven’t. Also… I HIGHLY recommend using the google search Before:Year feature helps so much!! It’s pretty fun to see a lot of the first reactions to Loki’s character, as well as the outdated memes 😭😭😭 OG Loki fangirls paved the way!!

It really is a peculiar ass situation. My favorite character has been killed off, an alternate version of him was revived, and it’s all complete misery. What REALLY annoyed me though was people just accepting it.. Like what? Really? This is Loki to you?

Thank you for this, and I’m glad you feel less alone. I hope that you continue to find community within this side of Tumblr. It’s all I ever wanted for anyone who stumbled across my blog. So sorry for the long ass response LOL

[frickinsleepdeprived]

reader dating the demons + muzan

do it no balls ùwú

I'm only doing the upper three bc I'm exhausted from dog sitting ;w; but I hope you enjoy!

...

Kokushibo:

He's one hell of a possessive boyfriend, as any other demon would be

He never shows his soft side unless you're with him

You supposed it's because you're his sense of calm, he's able to eat normally and sleep easier when you're around

If you were a demon yourself, you'd probably go on his missions with him if he would allow it

If you were a slayer, he'd more than likely just turn you into a demon so that way he could have you all to himself. Sorry, but that's just the way he works (like I said, he's one hell of a possessive demon)

Will absolutely dote on you, no one has ever seen him like that

If you sneak out in the middle of the night to see him, he's always going to be sure to make up for the time you should be spending on getting some sleep

If you ever fell into any danger, he'll be at your side in a heartbeat

Overall if you ever date this dude, cherish him, but be prepared to not be able to do virtually anything else if you're not with him

...

Douma:

Very possessive, but not to the point where he won't let you do anything by yourself

He trusts that you'll do the right thing, even if you were a demon or a slayer he'd still trust that you wouldn't kill him out of your own volition

He dotes on you all the time, making sure you have everything you need regardless of if you can get it yourself or not

I feel like he's definitely the type to be like Tengen in the sense that he will give you nothing but the best. Be it clothes, food, jewels, etc.

Loves to cuddle, especially if it's just you two in the woods

But if he finds out you're in danger he won't be so nice towards the aggressor

Like we're talking ripping off limbs and shattering skulls

But it's nice to know that he's willing to protect you regardless of the cost

You're the moon, he's the sun, that's the dynamic lol

But overall he's genuinely a good guy but just make sure you don't fall under harm, you don't want to see that side of him trust me

...

Akaza:

He's very giddy, you're honestly not so sure how you can stand him half the time lol

But that doesn't mean you love him any less because of that fact

He doesn't gift you anything fancy, but he's definitely a crow

Like he'll find a pretty rock or some flowers and be like "hey this reminded me of you"

LIKE HOW WHOLESOME IS THAT-

Anyways, he will dote on you, but not to the point where you need his constant reassurance

Like mans has slayers and civilians to kill, he needs to know you'll be okay lol

He'll let you go on his missions with him, seeing as how you're so interested

Until you realized just how brutal he can be

Yeeeeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh that really tested your morals, but you chose to stick with him in the long run, knowing that no human can make you feel anything the way he does

But any who, if you choose to date Akaza, be prepared for a life full of fun and laughter. That's what he's good at after all

...

Muzan:

This guy is going to spoil you

And when I say spoil you, it's worse than Tengen with his wives

He's not a big cuddler though, the only time he's really up for it is if he's had a bad day, he's stressed out, or after some uh activities

Either way though, you can't help but fall in love with the guy

He's got a very specific charm to him and a way with his words that you couldn't find in anyone else

And of course that's not to say you don't appreciate his other qualities. Like his smile; while some may find it intimidating, you find it to be rather comforting. Because when it's you, its softer, more meaningful than what any other demon would receive.

He will pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, no I won't elaborate

One hundred percent possessive, this is the king of demons we're talking about here. What's his is his and he won't allow anyone else to have it

But he will make sure that you as a human gets plenty of sunlight, he doesn't need you developing cabin fever

Overall, very caring towards you. Cruel to those who inflict harm on you. Once you're his, there's no turning back

......

Okaaaayyyyyyyyy that's done lol hope you enjoyed! Make sure to let me know what you want to see next!

[godsofhumanity]

hi, do you maybe have some angsty Ares headcanons?

hullo! sorry this is late! this is what i scrounged up:

so, i've always thought of Ares being a very emotional guy... he's completely ruled by his heart.

AND. i also think he wears his heart on his sleeve. Ares is superrrr bad at lying... i think the Aphrodite Incident was the biggest lie Ares has ever kept and it was an absolute struggle for him. i think he hated the secrecy of it all.

in saying this, i believe that war impacts him very very deeply ((we can't NOT talk about war when talking about angsty Ares!!!)).

i don't see Ares as the brutal savage that most myths like to see him as. i think there is a part of him that despises war; particularly, he despises the aftermath.

don't get me wrong-- i hc Ares to be very proud of his domain even if, at times, it garners him a lot of hatred from others, gods and mortals alike. i think he acknowledges its necessity, and he acknowledges the glory and the honour that comes from fighting for a cause... from believing so strongly in something that you would lay down your life for it... i think Ares encompasses that.

but Ares also represents the downside. the bystanders, the victims of war. the families that are irreparably broken. the widows, the orphans. the soldiers who desert their comrades out of fear of death or simply because they tire of the ceaseless fighting. the prisoners in the aftermath. the fallen.

i hc that Ares feels every wound, every death, every tear shed. these scars don't physically appear on his body, but he feels them every time... each one.

i do like the idea that Ares also bears physical scars. these are the scars he himself has acquired through countless eons of battle. and yes, for sure, he could use magical herbs and spells to hide those scars from his immortal skin, but i think Ares wears them proudly; as reminders of the imminence of death and as reminders of the honour of the struggle. i like the idea of those scars humbling him.... i think Ares is much more down-to-earth than the other Olympians.

i also like the idea of Ares often lingering on the battlefield long after the wars have ended. he sits and watches as the survivors collect their dead. and i like the idea that he makes note of each of their names. in this way,, everyone is remembered. there are no unmarked graves, no unknown soldiers before Ares; i hc him to be attentive to his domain and those who belong to it.

anyways. this was more serious than "angsty" as such, but i hope it is acceptable!!

[eriexplosion]

Clone Wars - Rookies

Now that I've got a laptop I can actually type on... time to get back into the rewatch with AN EPISODE THAT WILL PAIN ME.

'The best confidence builder is experience' yeah assuming that you get to have that and don't just get brutally killed on your first assignment. If you get past all of that, then you can get confidence building experience.

Unfortunately, because of the relentless demands of battle, many young clones must join the struggle before their intensive training has been completed.

LIKE COME ON. I'M FERAL. THEY DIDN'T EVEN GET TRAINED FULLY AND WERE SENT OUT ANYWAY. Tragic how that Just Has to Happen, there's no other way we definitely can't recruit people that aren't clones and have volunteered for this. That's impossible, sorry.

*checks time* we're at about 40 seconds now, I'm going to be so normal about this. Sooooo normal.

God though do I love Echo. I LIKE THAT IT'S SO QUIET OUT HERE :D GIVES ME TIME TO CATCH UP ON THE REG MANUALS :D what a nerd. A precious, precious nerd. Who knew that in a few short years they would be running around with a squad full of unadulterated chaos like the batch?

Shout out to Sergeant O'Niner for extreme handsomeness, I just love the greying look, so sue me.

Also Obi-Wan getting after Anakin for not sleeping, this is likely such a long running argument. I seem to remember the ROTS novelization said something about how Anakin didn't sleep for pretty much the entirety of it. BAD HABITS WILL GET YOU IN THE END. One day you're skimping on sleep to find General Grievous and the next you haven't slept in five days and you've murdered the younglings.

I love "Good man, that Cody" how often does Obi-Wan just randomly compliment Cody the instant he hangs up?

Hevy is so unimpressed by the meteor shower, in one last bit of humor before clone boys start dying. O'Niner's death is particularly brutal with the POV shot of three blasters gunning him down, but I hate all of it 😭Wasting absolutely no time cutting the clone numbers in half, including poor, unfortunately named Droidbait. (I can't get over that name, I simply can't. Nothing says awkward like memorializing your comrade Droidbait, who was murdered by droids.)

Also the specific way the droid changes its voice, the grabbing at its neck and apparently physically forcing its voice module into a clone voice. Upsetting to look at! But worth it for 'we do not need an inspection! Everything's fine! :)' Maximum suspicious behavior. And Cody's main reaction is just 'you know what? I need this to not be my problem. Rex is in charge.' I feel like we underestimate the amount of Little Shit Cody can be when he feels like it.

Mid typing of course, Cutup got eaten by an eel. RIP. I do feel like this part is played a little too lightly, they call out Cutup's name and say poor Cutup and all but no one seems all that like, distressed, that he's gone. At the very least that's 25% of their remaining manpower! Show some concern guys!

Moving on though, this lighting is doing Cody's paint job no favors.

I do love how unnerving the droid pretending to be a clone is though. Droid like 'how do clones act? Gestures? They gesture right?' and proceeds to do it in the worst way possible.

Rex is showing off a great dichotomy here, with Anakin and Ahsoka he always comes off as the cool headed one that tries to do things by the book, but when he hauls off and shoots the suspicious 'clone' in the face, Cody is HORRIFIED AND CONFUSED. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? One squad's voice of reason is another squad's absolute lunatic.

Speaking of characterization notes, I still find it a little odd that Fives has gotten the full party boy characterization of the Echo & Fives set in fanon when he's almost as rigid as Echo here, at least when set against Hevy. He introduces himself to Rex and Cody by his CT number and it's Hevy that fills in their actual names. I feel like he loosens up over the show, but he's definitely more by the book than people give him credit for. The real difference between the two as set up seems to be that Fives is a little more assertive (but kind of quieter) to Echo's soft spoken but chatty personality.

HANDPRINT THOUGH, HANDPRINT HANDPRINT. Literally if I could change one (1) small thing about TBB it's that I would give Echo back their handprint. I hate that they don't have it, it's integral damn it.

Rex breaking back in is still one of my favorite parts. Holding up the severed head up to the camera while Cody just goes THIS IS NEVER GOING TO WORK. Give him some credit, Cody, he knows what he's doing.

"Permission to take point, sir?" "I'm always first, kid."

Every day, Rex is just out here being unspeakably attractive. (And Echo is being unspeakably cute. "I GOT ONE :D")

Rex yet again showing his insane levels by going straight to 'guess we blow the whole place up' as his battle plan. No chill in this man, none at ALL.

Also, the detonator not hooking up with the handset. I can't believe that Hevy gets killed by fucking. Bluetooth issues. Imagine that your life rests on getting two pieces of technology to fucking communicate with each other. And Rex and Cody's immediate reaction is they need to GO BACK AND GET HIM RIGHT NOW, no one wants him to sacrifice himself, that wasn't what he was supposed to do when Rex left him to fix the detonator. I'm sure he gets hella survivors guilt from that. He left the rookie behind, it probably feels like his fault that Hevy is gone. Just pile the problems on him, just do it.

Echo having a tendency to make questionably timed jokes is. Certainly something. Like, Cutup gets eaten by an eel - that's why the regulations say don't go outside! Hevy gets blown up - Hevy always did hate that place! Like. Baby. Do you have to say that NOW? They perhaps have some filter issues.

Triumphant ending! Everyone except these two has died horribly! But they have medals you see!

It's still one of my favorite episodes though. All clones all the time, lots of chances to fawn over my boys, I can never turn that down. Echo my beloved ❤️

[antimonyandthyme]

Athy you have to watch mamma mia one day🥺 it is very delightful movie and imagine seb as single mom with strong willed child who has a greek wedding (part of plot, the child invited three old flares from seb's youth) and no one know who is child's dad. all it with abba songs on top :3

but do you want another au? okay, what about your pacific rim au, martian one?🥺

🌻 anon

sweet sweet sunflower anon @rosyjuly and @thelittlebirdthatkeptsomanywarm have promised a sleepover where they sing and i don't so i will watch it one day. @bigbluelemon thinks that seb should be in a foursome in this au

will you denounce me if i say i do not enjoy abba? uh oh uh oh uh oh! ANYWAY here's some martian pacific rim au hcs! under the cut because it got long because i will talk about giant robots at length

Firstly, they do NOT get along at the start. Obv obv. Here comes this prodigy jaeger trainee hotshot and he thinks he knows everything and Mark just wants to strangle him because he's cocky and sometimes bats his eyelashes at Mark and Mark can't tell if Seb's mocking him or flirting with him. What Seb makes up for in lack of physical strength he makes up for in pure speed and on the training mats he's a menace and very unashamed about it. Jenson nudges Mark and goes, hey, hey, think you can take him? Mark scoffs in bravado, like duh. Staff whipping toward Seb he stops just short of clocking Seb in the head and Seb stops just shy of jabbing the pointed end of his staff into Mark's belly and they both go, aw shit.

Their first neural handshake goes poorly. Their minds are very closed off from each other, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. There's a portion of good pilot pairups that manage to keep their minds from drifting even while drifting, and they get the job done. But with Mark and Seb there's a lot of friction in that Mark says go left here and Seb will be like no, go right, and they're so non-communicative inside the robot that they don't actually know why the other wants to do what. They just think the other isn't listening. They step out of the first sync test absolutely loathing it. Mark mouths off to the superiors and says they can go find someone else to pilot with their golden boy and Seb fumes when he hears it because there is no one else. There is no one else who's drift compatible. Oops. Mark doesn't know this.

There's a Kaiju attack that no one saw coming off the coast of Melbourne and fuck, fuck. No one's prepared. Mark's mouth goes dry. That's his home. I'll pilot, he tells the PPDC bosses in desperation. You'll need a partner, they tell him. I'll do it, Seb says, and Mark thinks he might not hate the kid after all.

Their Jaeger is unwieldy and awkward and they're struggling, when Mark realizes that Seb is shaking next to him. Seb is... scared. Kid, Mark hisses, get your head in the game. They barely avoid a swipe of a leathered tail in their direction. For a span of time it's like Mark's trying to pilot the Jaeger by himself, and it pulls brutally at his mind and saps the strength from his limbs. Kid, he tries again. Sebastian. Please. I need you to back me up here.

There's a shift in their neural link and something opens up and Mark feels it, Seb's fear and I'm sorry for being so cocky when I didn't know shit and Mark's like, I don't care about that now. Are we doing this together? You with me?

Seb nods. I'm with you.

[vetrenar]

So... I've finally watched the new Trigun and I'm completely swept off my feet! It's so beautiful, and incredible, and I like the new character designs (though I'm a bit sad that they decided to put Milly aside. I like Roberto and I love to see his "grampy dad" dynamic with Vash and Meryl but why can't we have +1 character instead of "that one or this one") and I have SO MUCH hope for this show...

Anyway, it made me think how different from each other all parts of the franchise are:

1. OG Trigun anime. "The First One" for many, for some of whom it's always will be The Best One.

In comparison with other variants of Trigun, the old anime feels the most like a goofy "classic" tale, with a bit of melancholic vibes. Yeah, it still has its share of sad moments but mostly the corners are smoothed. With 60% of the story being filler, it generally has more light hearted tone than the original manga. Also, the characters of the anime are much closer to the... I wouldn't say "ideal", but more like "archetypal" versions of themselves. Rem was a downright angel, July's destruction didn't kill anyone (although people still fought and killed each other afterwards), the philosophical question about kill not to kill is answered with "put a bullet through each of his limbs until he can't move and hope for the best" (ok, it was a strange one. But I'm still baffled with what Vash's plan was afterwards). What's more important, Vash's ideals, while are hard to reach, don't feel impossible.

2. Manga.

Oooo, I love this one. After the old anime, I totally wasn't prepared to how much more raw, brutal and unhinged the manga is. People who ask for FMA: Brotherhood treatment for the manga seemingly forget that such an anime would have to be shown only veeery late in the night, with the "for adults only" disclaimer.

At the same time, I find the raw, honest energy of the manga absolutely beautiful and love it much, much more than the old anime because of how down-to-Earth characters are there. They may not to be ideal, but they're undoubtedly, 100% human.

Yeah, it's Rem, after her symbolic "the ticket to the future" dream.

And Knives. So much more about Knives, his motivation and determination. And unlike the anime version, where he, being the odd one from the beginning and a bit of philosophical soul, took the problem of spiders and butterflies just too far, the manga version clearly shows that it's not really about good and bad ones. It's about how, after an excessive trauma, Knives' mind went to shit and never fully returned. He was more sensitive than Vash, and more open to dialogue with humans but, when cutting wood, it's a surgical scalpel that breaks first, not a kitchen knife.

Manga Knives doesn't just make scary faces. He sincerely asks his sisters to lend him their powers and, while the level of plant's self-conciousness is arguable, I think it's won't be so far fetched to say that they do care about him.

Aaah, yeah, manga's nice little body horror...

Also, manga is much more merciless towards Vash's pacifism. While anime says "yeah, it's hard, but if you try enough you can reach it", the manga is more about "It's impossible and everyone, including you, know that. But it doesn't means that you should stop trying, because even it's impossible, it's still the path you chose for yourself". And I think that this message is much stronger and more important.

3. Trigun Stampede.

Well, it's really a dark horse, isn't it? With so many controversy about changes in characters's design, story and everything. But from what I've seen so far, I can say that, while reboot doesn't try to repeat the original - original manga, not the old anime - word to word, it stays completely in tune to its main message and Vash's emotional journey, and it's the most important thing to me. And again, it's so incredibly beautiful and well made, and I really have so much hopes for it. My only fear is that there won't be a second season announcement because there is no way that they will be able to contain everything into merely 12 episodes.

Well, we'll see. Until that, Love&Peace, everyone!

[simplynotcapable]

Let’s have another AU- Visenya, another sister of The OG Baelon, son of Alysanne?

This got...so much longer than I meant for it to get.

If you do not want to read the giant thing that got so far away from me, the basic gist is this: it's not a super happy life. It has its moments, but there is just so much death. So many of Alysanne's kids die so young and/or tragically, and Visenya is a person who loves her siblings so much that it just would break her heart over and over again.

She'd end up married young, though I love her so I will grant her the grace that her husband dies not so very long after, and she would live a mostly content life (in between the very frequent bouts of extreme grief over the brutal deaths of her siblings, naturally) as a widow, raising whatever children she had with her husband before his death.

I do not think she would be married to any of her brothers, because Baelon is Alyssa's and I just can't see her meshing well with Aemon in that way--though she loves Aemon, and he loves her. She's closest to Alyssa and Daella, even though the two of them don't get along with each other, and she admires Saera almost as much as she wants to hit her in the face. She's never close to Vaegon or Maegelle, since Vaegon is kind of a cunt and Maegelle leaves so young. She respects Viserra, adores her with all her drive and ambition, and she never has much of a relationship with Gael because of the age gap and all the various other aspects of Targaryen life.

She takes up a lot of the responsibility of raising Aemma and Alyssa's boys after her sisters' deaths, as well as her own children, and she's one of Rhaenys's fiercest advocates every time the topic of succession comes up--not that anyone ever bothers to ask her, except for her mother.

She dies of a fever not very long before her father's death, though, and that's honestly for the best because, after all the people she's lost, I think the Dance probably would have driven her mad if she had to watch it.

Anyway, if that sounds interesting to you, there's a 6k pseudo one shot below the cut that I accidentally wrote because apparently this ask drove me absolutely feral. Idk how you managed to get me this deep on a Wednesday afternoon. I haven't blinked in hours and I no longer remember what the sun feels like.

Keep in mind that 1) I'm super bad at doing basic math in my head, so if their ages don't match up how they should just...pretend that they do, idk, sorry, and 2) I wrote this all in one manic sitting and did not proofread it

TW: general Targaryen-ness but also suicidal thoughts/ideation, suicide attempt (? sort of ?)

(We’re putting Visenya as born just after Alyssa)

Alysanne marries her off when she’s fifteen, and it’s…not as bad as she first feared, when she was told about it. Her kicking and screaming and wailing while her sisters clustered around her trying to comfort her seems very dramatic in hindsight.

She gets pregnant not long after the marriage, and it is terrifying and new and...wonderful, really, to think of, and she sees her daughter and thinks she did not know love before. Not like this. He wants to name her after his mother, but she names her for the sister who died before she was born—names her Daenerys. Lilac eyes and dark curls like her father’s, and Visenya loves her.

Her father does, too.

And then he dies.

Visenya isn’t upset, exactly. She didn’t love him. But he was kind to her. He never hurt her, was never cruel. He did not treat her as less, just for being a woman. He was a good man.

She thinks she could have loved him, if they’d had a little more time.

But, as it was, her husband had no son but he did have a younger brother. A younger brother with three sons, all smug little shits, and they treat her daughter as if she doesn’t exist. As if it is not all hers by right.

So, she goes home. She appeals to her parents. Should it not be Daenerys’s? Her husband’s trueborn child, should it not—

“Yes,” says her mother.

“No,” says her father.

She does not see a point in going back, after that, and so she stays in King’s Landing. She never stops dressing in black, always in her mourning clothes, and does her best impression of a widow so severely grieved that to ask her to remarry would be the cruelest of torments. Her mother cuts her looks, sometimes, and she knows Alysanne knows the trick of the game she is playing, but she has done her duty once. She married and bore him a child, the second granddaughter of the Wise King and the Good Queen. Her parents, whether for love or exhaustion, do not ask her to do it again. She keeps her head down and her mouth shut, for the most part, in case they change their minds.

She raises her daughter. She spends time with her parents, even with her anger at her father. She spends time with her siblings, who she missed so dearly.

And then, slowly, she loses them all.

The very year she comes back, Valerion dies. He had not even reached his first name-day, small and sickly. To look at him beside Daenerys is heartbreaking, so close in age and yet so different in size, her daughter so strong and the last of her brothers so weak...it hurts her, inside herself, but not so badly as the morning her mother tells her he is dead. She has not hurt like that since Gaemon died, not so very long before her wedding, small and sickly just like Valerion.

She does not put Daenerys down for entire days after, incapable of making her arms release her. Part of her fears she will lose her, too, if she does, and the babe is more than happy to settle for hours against her chest. Her mother chides her for it, says she should not spoil her so--that she will turn willful and stubborn and too used to getting her way, "like your little sisters".

Visenya keeps holding her anyway. Only rescinds her when Alyssa comes calling with baby Viserys, and they trade their children and curl together like they are little girls again.

"We always said we would be there for each other, when we went to the childbed," Alyssa mourned quietly, head lolled on Visenya's shoulder, one finger looped in 'Nerys's curls and her other hand playing with Viserys's chubby leg in Visenya's lap. "I raged something awful when the letters came that she had been born without me there."

“As did I, when you sent word of Viserys," she answers, and then presses her hand to her heart. "I shall be there for all the others, 'Lyssa. For you and the other girls, too. I swear it."

Vaegon left that same year, which was loss of a different kind. She had never been particularly close with him, the most severe of her brothers, the one with the sharpest tongue and cruelty that dripped from it even when he did not intend it. He'd been so often cruel to sweet Daella, driving all of his sisters against him with a single-minded force, and yet...when she learns he is to go to Oldtown, she goes running to his rooms, anyway.

He is packing, already. He looks up at her, awkward in his own skin, not beautiful like his brothers and sisters; strange, their Vaegon, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"Will you visit?"

He laughs around a scoff, tucks another book carefully into his bag. It is answer enough.

"Daenerys will miss you."

And she will, for her daughter is not nearly so taken with the rest of her aunts and uncles as she is with Vaegon. Vaegon, who refuses to hold her and looks at her like a strange creature of myth, who contorts his face when she coos towards him.

Visenya caught him smiling, once, though. Just the vaguest of curls at the corner of his mouth, the rest of his face expressionless, as 'Nerys reached stubbornly out to try and convince him to take her hand.

Vaegon looks up, scowling, eyes narrowed, and she softens more towards him than she ever has before when he grudgingly mutters, "I will write."

He does. Hardly ever more than once or twice a year, curt and cutting, often with vague insinuations that she is an idiot and never with any care for what her life is or has been. Not once, in the rest of their lives, does her brother ask how she is.

At the end of each letter, though, he asks after Daenerys, and so Visenya keeps writing him back.

She never sees him again. She would wish, later, that she had known it would be the last time she would ever look upon his face. But she dooes not know, and so she leaves him there, and that is the closest they come to a goodbye.

Daella writes (well, her stepdaughter writes for her) a few years later, a child growing so quickly in her womb, and so Visenya takes Daenerys by the hand and they go. They go to her little sister, scared and alone, Visenya in her black dress and Daenerys with her black curls, and Daella is all white light when she throws squealing arms open to welcome them.

They were so close as girls, she and Daella. Alyssa had always chafed when her younger sisters clung at her skirts and groveled about for her attention (she grew to love them well enough, eventually, in her own ferocious way, but, oh, the way she used to howl when Visenya went into her rooms without knocking), but Visenya had never much minded having Maegella and Daella as her shadows. And when Maegelle left, promised to the faith at only ten...Daella had seemed so lost without her, and so Visenya took her by the hand and went through life with her in tow.

Daella had wept herself into a fit when Visenya left. "You leave me alone," she cried, even with all their other brothers and sisters watching so balefully. She was a sensitive thing, Daella, soft-hearted and not so clever as her elder brothers and sisters. She feared Alyssa still from all her snapping when they were little girls, loathed Vaegon for all his tripping insults, and for Visenya to leave her behind had seemed the end of the world.

She'd not wept nearly so much at her own wedding, and Visenya had been glad of it. It had been a struggle to see her sister wed, according to her parents, and she'd nearly been sent off to the silent sisters. She thought her too young, in truth, as she thought that she herself had been too young, but she was pleased to see Daella mostly content with Lord Arryn and his brood of ready-made children.

Daella weeps herself wild, again, though at the sight of Visenya and 'Nerys, and the sisters hold each other so tightly that bones crack. "Nothing bad will happen now," she says, confidently, pulling back to wipe at wet cheeks. "Not when you are here with me."

The fever takes her, not a week after little Aemma is born, and Visenya goes home alongside her sister's corpse.

She brings her niece with her, little Aemma Arryn with her silver hair and her big purple eyes, so like Daella in her face. Lord Arryn had not wished for her to leave with Visenya, but she had raised the fiercest of fits ("I rivaled even Saera with the way I carried on," Visenya jests much later, to Alyssa's pealing laughter and Saera's cry of offense). Rodrik had four children to raise already, duties to attend to, and would it not do the babe better to grow up amongst her mother's kin?

She was to bring Aemma back for four months every other year, but he relented.

When Alyssa begins her labors with little Aegon, not so very many years later, Visenya goes to her, as she did for clever little Daemon. Sits beside her and holds her hand and croons to her as she screams and wails.

She dies not a full year afterwards, and Visenya is the one to catch Baelon when his knees give out, to hold him as he shakes and screams and tears at his own face with such ferocity that she thinks he will claw off his skin.

(It seemed there never was a boy named Baelon that did not get his pretty sister's fingers tangled up in his heartstrings.)

She does not realize until Aemon comes and finds them both, pulls them both into his chest, their big brother who always catches them on his shoulders, that she is screaming, too.

Because Alyssa, oh, Alyssa, her Alyssa that she followed like a goddess come to life, her Alyssa who had hated her with mindless singularity until Visenya was ten and finally got so sick of the snapping and snarling that she threw a plate of potatoes at her head, and then they were close as close could be in that strange way that sisters loved. Her Alyssa, wild and laughing and bold, bold, bold, as so many of her sisters were bold, bold, bold, who loved their brother so much that it bled from her skin, who left behind two young sons who worshipped the ground she walked on. Alyssa, 'Lyssa, gone, just like that? Stolen so soon after Daella was stolen?

"Mother," Daenerys whispers, when she comes to her and Aemma that night, and she opens her arms and holds her girls as close as she can get them.

She takes on Alyssa's boys, when Baelon cannot. 'Nerys and Aemma and Daemon and Viserys, all her parents' grandchildren but one drifting in her wake, holding onto her hands, tucking themselves against her skirts.

It is that same year when Saera and her band of merry delinquents are caught.

Saera's mischief had never bothered Visenya quite like it bothered everyone else, often enough driving her to incredulous laughter that she had to stifle into her hand. So, she was spirited and bold! No one would bat an eye, had she been born with a cock, and who was really hurt by the Kingsguard spending an afternoon with pink cloaks?

She alone noticed when her mischief and even cruel pranks turned to something more dangerous, because people oft forgot about the Widowed Princess, the one who collected children with dead mothers and roamed the palace like a ghost with her pale face and dark dress. Saera did, often enough, and so Visenya knew well before anyone else that her sister was careless about the boys she allowed into her bed and the girls who knew it. Ones with loose tongues. Ones with soft spines.

How many times had Visenya warned her? How many times had she grabbed her hand, said "have your fun, little sister, but be careful, be careful, you do not know what might await you should Father find out"? How many times had her little sister shrugged her off, imperious and haughty and clever and wicked, so sure she would never face consequences?

The same as when they were younger, when she would release cats into Daella's room and throw her wicked fits that left them all with ringing ears and anger in even the calmest of hearts. Visenya loved Saera well, admired her spiritedness and her refusal to be forced into the boxes that Visenya had allowed herself to be put into when she was even younger, but, every time she spoke to her, she understood well how people were driven to murder.

"Perhaps you are happy in your life as a celibate, as a widow with no one but children to turn to," her sister cried, spiteful in her anoyance as she always was, "but that is not the life I will have for myself!"

Were they closer, if she trusted her more, Visenya might have told her about the pretty serving girl with the golden hair and the birthmark on her belly the same shape as a paw, but as it was she always just shook her head and looked away. Saera could not even be trusted with her own secrets, much less Visenya's.

She hears it all secondhand, bits from her mother and her brothers and her father. About the boys who Saera brought to her bed, about her wild attempt to defend herself and how it turned so quickly to hot defiance. About her wicked tongue, getting her into even more trouble, when she dared look their father in the eyes and suggest she take all three to wed and make herself Aegon or Maegor come again. About the escape to the Pit, that night, and the way their father raged, and how Saera had been forced to watch from the window as her lover died at the Wise King's hand.

She goes to see her, the night before she leaves for Oldtown. Looks at her standing there, looking faded and numb and not like Saera at all, and she grabs her by the face and presses their brows together. "You are everything," she says, the ghost of words a different Baelon than the one she knows once whispered to her, the ghost of words another her once whispered to boys who would die in a war she'd never wanted. "You are everything. So do not let them break you, you foul little bitch."

Saera blinks at her, so quiet for once, and then she smiles.

A little over a year after they sent her to the Faith, she disappears. Gone, just like that. A blip. A ghost, until word comes that she's taken up at a pleasurehouse. Alysanne weeps, but Visenya tucks her face into her hand and she laughs. Laughs that laugh that only Saera has ever truly managed to draw out of her, the one that comes only when you know you should not be laughing, because she knows well as any that Saera went prowling into that place of her own volition and would have already torn down the walls to make it her own.

Her mother writes. Saera never answers.

Visenya writes, as well, to make sure she is alright where she is. Saera answers only once and never again after, and the letter has only seven words scrawled huge across the parchment. It sends Visenya bursting into that same vicious laughter to see it.

I am everything, you foul little bitch.

She laughs that wild laugh for the third time since Saera left and the final time in her life when the Council is called. When three bastard boys with Jaehaerys's face and Saera's eyes come swaggering through the door with all their mother's audacity and every bit of her fire.

Three years later, death comes for their family again.

For Viserra this time--Viserra, who is smart and gorgeous and ambitious and knows she is everything. Who wants things from life, who wants power and purpose and everything she would have had, anyway, had she only been born a prince, and she is full to bursting with it. It almost hurts Visenya's eyes to look at her, so bright with all the things she wants, with all the longing. With all the wishing.

"If I'd been only a few years older," she says once, darkly, hands clenched. "They'd have given me to Aemon, then. I'd be a queen, then. I could change it all, I could make it--I could be more than this, more than some man's broodmare, more than just a footnote in history. Viserra Targaryen. Nothing more than some man's wife."

Visenya, who had nearly been married to Aemon herself until she and her eldest brother rallied in their horror at the idea, attempts to look sympathetic. It is actually not so difficult, when she sees the stricken look on her face, her pretty little sister caught in an invisible trap that only women ever seem to find themselves locked in.

"You might always become a widow," Visenya comforts. "It is not so bad a life, really."

Viserra laughs, long and loud, and then drops her head to her shoulder. They are close now, despite the decade between them, though Viserra is a maid of five and ten and Visenya a widow with a brood of four children mostly not her own. She is not sure how it happened, but she is grateful for it. She has missed being close to a sister, these fast few years.

"Vi and Vi," Aemon jests, sometimes, when he sees them walking about with heads bent together, and then he tugs at Visenya's braid and is off again. Baelon ever in his wake, off to do whatever princes do, and they all pretend Viserra's gaze does not fix hungrily on their backs.

"Baelon might save me, still," she says, and Visenya is quick to shoot the idea before it catches wings.

She thinks she does, anyway, but it is not a week later when Viserra is pulled drunk from their exhausted brother's bed as he waits at the door with his eyes squeezed shut in phantom pain.

It is not very long after that when Viserra bids her good night, grinning a little, swearing she means to have one more night of fun before she is married to an old man and has "nothing more to look forward to than joining you as a widow, sister." Visenya laughs her off, kisses at her cheeks and watches her leave. Thinks she means to steal a bottle of wine and cause some chaos about the palace.

They bring her sister's corpse back to the Keep with a broken neck.

She and her brothers get drunk that night, a rare lapse in their usual propriety when it comes to their sisters. She needs it, though, and they love her well enough to let themselves bend. They sit in a row on a window ledge, passing a bottle of wine back and forth between them, and they whisper stories that they all usually pretend are not real anymore. Alyssa and her quick rages and her hot heart and her wild way of living, Daella and her softness and the way she sang in the mornings, Viserra's wicked sharp tongue and how she always seemed to have an answer for everything. Valerion and Gaemon and Aegon, babes dead before they ever got a real chance to live, and what would it have been like to have three more brothers? Three more boys running through the Keep, on their tails, shouting and shaking. Daenerys, the first one, Aemon's few scattered memories of her doled out to them like precious stones. Saera, then, as they giggle behind their hands until they are gasping, and she and Baelon attempt to mimic Vaegon's few attempts at learning the sword as Aemon pretends to be much more mature than them both, and they offer a toast and a prayer to Maegelle, whatever she is doing now.

"We're all that's still here now, except for little Gael," Aemon says, with a tilt of his chin towards the stars. "How strange that is, when there were so many of us once."

Baelon asks them if they think Viserra would still be alive, if he let her stay in his bed that night.

Visenya and Aemon both drop their heads to his shoulders instead of answering.

They wake hungover the next morning, all three of them, which Jocelyn teases them mercilessly for--Visenya is usually quite fond of her sister-by-law, but she tells Aemon rather hotly that she means to poison his wife. He only laughs at her, tugs her braid as he always does, and his daughter grins at her across the breakfast table.

Alysanne begs Jaehaerys to bring Saera home after that, a ghost of herself after losing three daughters in such rapid succession, but Jaehaerys refuses her.

Maegelle comes home, instead. Visenya shies from her. She cannot help it. All of her other sisters are dead or gone, except little Gael that is younger than her daughter--she feels sorry for her, more than anything, with all of her siblings so much older and so many of them dead before she ever truly knew them. She is a soft child, much like Daella was, and her nieces and nephews tend to leave her behind in their games. To see Maegelle again, quiet and pious and so much older than the little child who left...how strange it is.

"You act as if you fear her," Jocelyn says, absently, and Visenya scowls at her.

Maybe she does. Perhaps...perhaps she does, a little. To love her seems a risk she cannot take, when all her other sisters have left her. Better to hide amongst her brothers, to grow closer to them than she was before. Her brothers who had lived so long and so carelessly. She had never lost a brother. It seemed safer.

She leaves again, and they are hardly any closer than they were before from the rare letters they sent to each other.

Maegelle is the one who convinces their father home, though, during the Quarrel when he visits her in Oldtown, and even in time for Rhaenys's wedding. She knows that chafes at Aemon, who tried his own hand at it, and she teases him for it, perhaps more than she should. She stops when he threatens to marry her off again, once he's king; he seems to realize that the jest didn't land well, that he has struck some deep fear within her that she has never acknowledged to another soul--that either her father or her brother will tire of her freedom and aimlessness, her simple widowed life, and force her to do her duty again.

"I will not," he says, grabbing at her hand. "I will not, Visenya. Not unless you ask me to."

"I will not ask."

"Then I will not," he says again, fiercely. "I will not. The Widowed Princess, you shall remain."

Rhaenys arrives to her wedding on dragonback, and Visenya calls her a queen beneath her breath. Her father shoots her a warning look. Her mother grins.

Two years later, they send Aemon to war with the news that he is to be a grandfather when he returns. She has not seen him so happy since Rhaenys's birth, his face radiant with his smile, his laugh so bright it breaks through even the dark that has kept their family shadowed so long.

When word comes that he is dead, Visenya does not believe it.

Aemon is not capable of death. Not Aemon, their eldest, who chased them all about through the palace, who balanced them on his shoulders and fished them out of every spot of trouble they managed to find themselves in. Not clever Aemon, always asking questions, dutiful Aemon with his honorable heart, wonderful Aemon with his love for his wife and his daughter. Aemon, who they'd wanted her to marry once, except he had wailed and she had cried and they had united in all their terrible fury at the very idea and then split an entire stolen cake between them when their goal was achieved. Aemon, who was to be a grandfather soon, who was to be a king. Aemon was meant to be king of the seven kingdoms, their father's successor, and, more than that, Aemon was their heart. Their family's heart, the thing that kept them beating, who kept them moving, who held them together with the force of his bare hands, and so Aemon could not be dead.

If Aemon is dead, who will hold them?

It is not until Baelon comes home, dead behind the eyes, that she knows it as truth. It is not until he cries to their mother, "I slew a thousand of them, but it will not bring them back" that she knows.

Because more than he was their family's heart, he was Baelon's soul. He was all that kept Baelon sane, after Alyssa. If Baelon says Aemon is dead, then it is true, and Visenya tears whole handfuls of hair from her head when she wails.

Baelon's head turns and he sees her, and they hold each other up as best as they can. Just like when Alyssa died, except Aemon isn't coming to keep them both from falling totally apart. Aemon isn't there when they get drunk again, far more destructively than before, that sobbing and choking sort of drunk that left them both near comatose the next day, and she thinks the world could end and it wouldn't even matter anymore.

And then...then, they name him heir. Baelon. Not Rhaenys, Aemon's daughter, the eldest grandchild, who should be queen. Not Rhaenys, who clenches her jaw when Jaehaerys announces it, whose fists clench up. Not Rhaenys, who Alysanne and Visenya both beseech Jaehaerys to see not as a woman but as who she is, as competent and capable and every bit Aemon's daughter.

But it is Baelon, in the end. As it always was going to be, no matter how the Old King might have pretended.

Maegelle ends the Second Quarrel, too, and she and Baelon toast to it and her and a kinghood that will be his one day.

"Swear to me you'll never make me marry," she says, prodding at his ribs, and he snorts.

"What man in his right mind would marry you?"

And, like it always does, eventually the sun forces its way through darkness.

Rhaenys's daughter is born, pretty little Laena with her soft brown skin and her wild silver curls, and then Laenor to match two years later.

Viserys and Aemma are married; she is pleased about the match, actually, at first. It is not until years later, watching Aemma wilting, that she mourns the mistake of it.

Daenerys asks for Alleras Martell exactly fifteen minutes after he asks for her, the pretty Dornish prince with his dancing eyes and his crooked smile. Visenya likes him, though she won't admit it. Gripes he is not good enough for her daughter, and he bows down low and asks her "who could be?"

"Let them," she tells her mother and father. "Let them wed, let them be happy, use it to build faith with the Dornish."

Her daughter is wed, her husband besotted with her and the way her curls fall and the sound of her laugh. He clothes her in silk and drapes her in jewels, and Visenya never again sees her daughter alone without cheeks still rosy from too ardent goodbye kisses.

Daenerys comes home when she is pregnant, wishes to be with her mother and Aemma (her heart-sister) and Gael (a friend, now, at the least), and Alleras follows obediently in her wake.

Her first grandchild is born the same day the letter arrives telling them Maegelle is dead of greyscale. Visenya weeps but only a little, cannot find it in herself to grieve anymore, especially for a sister she knew so little--and especially when, suddenly, there is an olive-skinned little boy with amethyst eyes and a head of dark curls being placed in her arms.

"Aemon," Daenerys says, soft and gentle, her darling girl with her beautiful heart. "I wrote to Rhaenys to ask, and she says she would be proud if we called him Aemon."

He had been the favorite of her uncles, once the infatuation with Vaegon faded into nothing--she had not even a memory of him now. Aemon had always been the one to sneak her sweets and ruffle her hair and let her ride with him on dragonback even when Visenya fretted that she was far too young for such things.

Visenya wept again, for a whole new reason, and she kissed her grandson's head and her daughter's face and even the cheek of her son-by-law--how smug he looked about it, the little shit.

(Daenerys does not come home for the birth of the next three children, but she visits every other year for a few weeks, at the least. Alleras at her side. Aemon and Larra and Ashara and Naerys cluttering up her skirts, spilling out around her, full of laughter and giggles and a golden childhood that had not yet held any pain.)

Whatever was left of the light in her mother's eyes goes out when Gael dies. "Dies" everyone says, as if she sickened, but Visenya knew the truth about the water and the bastard babe who died so soon. Heartbreak killed Gael, not a fever, and she and Baelon don't even remember how to grieve anymore.

"I hardly knew her," he says, at their now near monthly tradition of getting drunk and speaking of all the dead that lay behind them. "She is our sister, and I do not think I ever even spoke to her, really. Not of anything real."

"She is younger than our children," Visenya counters. "Could we be expected to?"

"We're the last now," he whispers, and his hands cover his face. "You and me. The last ones standing. Would you have guessed that?"

"No," she admits. "I thought you'd kill yourself after Alyssa."

He looks at her, and, with years and wine to numb the pain, he bursts out laughing.

Their mother is dead not very long after, and Visenya does something she and Daella used to do, when they were very young. Drapes blankets over the sides of the bed so nothing can be seen beneath and then crawls under. Lays there, cocooned in the darkness, and she closes her eyes and thinks of her mother's laugh. Over and over and over again, until she has memorized it. Until she won't forget it.

You tried, she thinks to her ghost. You tried, and I know that you tried to make things better. To make us more than just wives and daughters, to make us something on our own. That is enough. I will let that be enough. Tell them I love them. Tell them hello.

They meet Baelon's granddaughter that year, too, a darling little thing with huge eyes. She looks like Alyssa. Visenya doesn't mention it.

"Rhaenyra," Baelon croons to her, laughing. "Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, darling little girl, little love, little beauty."

"Baelon the Besotted," she lilts, winking at Aemma, and her niece grins back. Exhausted. Tired from miscarriages and the stillborn babe, tired, tired, tired, and Visenya did not know which of the married couple were not letting her rest. If it was Viserys or Aemma herself. She had suspicions.

She pokes Rhaenyra's cheek, gently, looks down at her. "You are everything," she says, warmly.

The next year, Baelon's belly bursts. He's sick for a few days before, and she worries but thinks nothing of it. He is strong and healthy and so very Baelon, her older brother she loves so dearly, and there is no reason he should not recover. He ate something bad, perhaps, or...something. Something easy. Something fixable.

When they tell her he's dead, she thinks about killing herself.

Not because Baelon is dead, specifically, though knowing he is feels like swallowing hot coals. She thinks she would have thought about it regardless of who it had been, if it were Alyssa or Aemon or even Vaegon that had been here with her for so long and then left her alone.

It is the being alone that makes her think she is ready to die.

The children are raised, now. The children are having children. Her sisters are dead, except for the one lost to her, and her brothers, except for the one who left them all. Her mother gone. Her father near gone, she has no doubt. How much can one person take, before they break for good? How much? And how hard would it be, to just shove herself off the edge and let the already fragile whole of herself shatter into fragments?

She walks into the Pit, because it feels poetic to die by fire. The other sister who died by her own hand died by water. They could be two halves of a coin, she and Gael, though they had never been two halves of anything before. Her apology for the distance between them all their lives.

She chooses Dreamfyre to do it.

And when she walks right in, unafraid and waiting, for the flame and the fury and the rage that comes with a dragon's territory being invades, she is given none of it. She is given silence, as she stands there with closed eyes, waiting for the flames.

When she opens them, the dragon looks back at her and blinks. Just once. Slowly. And then she dips her great head.

Visenya...laughs. She stands there laughing, mad with it, hiccuping, tears streaming down her face, and she reaches out with both hands. Dreamfyre's neck snakes out, allowing her to put them on her, to run them along her face and her neck, and it...

It is Baelon, she knows. It is Baelon and Aemon and Daella and Alyssa and Viserra and Alysanne and, maybe, even Maegelle and Gael and Valerion and Gaemon and Daenerys and Aegon, telling her to stop. Telling her to quiet. Telling her to stop being such a dramatic little fool, to take what was left of this life in her hands and let it be hers.

"Hello," she whispers to the dragon.

She croons back.

Jaehaerys had not wanted his daughters to be dragonriders, except for Alyssa. They would be wed to noble houses, spread out amongst the land, and to give too many lords access to dragons and their riders was a danger. Visenya had never had a dragon egg. She had never thought she'd ride a dragon, except the few times she went with Alyssa or Baelon or Aemon.

Dreamfyre croons again, and Visenya presses their brows together and keeps right on laughing.

They take Rhaenys's rights away from her, yet again, another Council passing it off to another man who is no more competent or deserving than she. Vaegon comes home, she hears, and their father offers him the crown; he rejects it, of course. She does not see him before he is gone again.

But Visenya lives. She does her best. For the first time in years, she dares to wear color.

The fever that takes her almost shocks her with its suddenness, and she is not aware of much after that first initial surprise. She sees things she knows cannot be real, like her mother sitting beside her and her long dead husband's hand reaching out to pet her hair, and she hears things that she could not possible be hearing, and she knows she is dying three days before she finally does it.

It's her sisters who come to fetch her, when it finally happens. Alyssa grabbing at her arm to haul her up, Daella peeping over her shoulder--closer now, it seemed, than they had been at life--and Viserra reaching out to grab her other arm. Maegelle and Gael watching, so quietly, smiling so softly.

"Do you want to hear something funny?" Viserra chirps, all shark sharp teeth as Visenya reaches out with a cry to grab at them, their faces and their hair and everything, trying to convince herself they are solid. "Visenya? Do you?"

"What?" she cries. "What could possibly be so important?"

"Father still outlived you."

[jq37]

Okay, that went well. They've got the goose, some people who will hopefully be able to provide some kind of help. Alphonse was a prince this whole time, still need to unpack that. I wonder if the Golden Harp has any interesting mojo going on. Things are still less than ideal but they're making some strides forward. Or as the Gunner Channel would say, the ball is rolling up.

What a wildly different tone this episode had than the last one. Everyone came in hot. Roz set the tone with a brutal opening volley and Ylfa tanked so much damage. I'm mildly surprised it went as well as it did. 

I felt really bad for Tim re: Jack because, much like Ger with Elody, the dice simply weren't on his side. He didn't play it really dumb or anything. The dice just wouldn't let him have it and he didn't have his book at the absolute worst possible time. Tragic. 

On the absolute other end of the spectrum, Brennan pulling that nonsense with Alphonse was absolutely WILD. He was like, "I see your insane series of events. Allow me to put a cherry on top of it." It retroactively makes everything Alphonse has done so far even crazier. Also, I'm sure this isn't what he intended, but in a world that seems mostly devoid of princes (at least in the limelight), it's an interesting thing for him to be.

Speaking of royalty, Thumbelina's title card says she's a princess and I wonder if that factors into the princess math of the daughters of the crown. We're still not clear if this is a "We need any 7 princesses" thing (a la the 7 maidens in Fantasy High) or if they just know that in the timeline they succeed, there are 7 princesses and they are specific princesses (in which case, Roz can't be replaced).

I do think it's absolutely *crucial* they were able to save the Goose because I have a feeling that Brennan is going to take this as a chance for a lore dump that they sorely need. I feel like there's a LOT of information that the PCs just haven't even gotten close to because they've been focused on other things and the Goose might have some of it. As a DM, this is a great chance to start bringing things together. And Brennan already did that a bit by dropping Tomas and Henry into their laps, which are crucial parts of the backstory of PIB and Tim we haven't really explored yet. Seems like we'll be getting it in just under the wire. 

Anyway, the Goose will likely be a good and trustworthy source of information. Maybe she'll be able to help them get back into The Lines Between since it's the Gander stopping them. That would also be a good source of information. Failing that, as a last resort they could talk to the Fairies under an enemy of my enemy understanding because at least they know the Fairies don't want to end the world (and we know they have information that the PC's don't have--for instance, Turq knew stuff about the wolf but the PCs ran from her and didn't follow up on it). And as a last LAST resort, if they REALLY want to they can do what I know Emily has wanted for weeks now and talk to the Baba Yaga but they couldn't even handle talking to the princesses so I am let's say dubious of their ability to get through that encounter with all of their souls intact. 

But hey! Things are definitely looking better than they did at the end of LAST episode (though that's a low bar to clear. I felt more confident after the TPK than the end of last episode) and I'm very excited to see what their plan ends up being because folks, we are in the endgame now. Every story eventually reaches it's The End and we're pretty close to ours. I hope they make it count! Let's keep that ball rolling uphill!

[allthesethingsaresacred]

Recently I've been struggling a lot. What was low mood has now turned into full-fledged depression, a depression I haven't felt since half my life ago at the age of fourteen. So I've been trying to use Schema Therapy to help me over the last week. I did an inventory that helped me to identify which modes were strongest and most problematic for me, and today I gave them names and characterised them so that I can identify these parts of me when they come up.

If you aren't familiar with Schema Therapy, a gross simplification would be that we can approach understanding our mind by personifying aspects of ourselves. The vulnerable child mode is the aspect of us that feels wounded and scared, and other modes swoop in to try to save us from that pain. The biggest one for me is the detached self-soother. I don't have healthy methods of self-soothing, so I tend to escape through things like overeating and porn. These are my two major vices.

So today, I was job hunting. Something I have always passionately hated. I hate how it makes me feel. It feels soul-crushing and demoralising, like I'm not even good enough for a job at McDonald's. McDonald's actually isn't bad in terms of its reliability as an employer. They're such a huge business they're not going to pay you wrong or treat your poorly.

So anyway, I recognised today that the modes being triggered after my failed job hunt were the punitive parent and the vulnerable child. I named both of the parent modes (punitive and demanding) Fletcher, after the horrifically abusive teacher from Whiplash played by JK Simmons. My vulnerable child mode is called August. I wanted a name similar to Agnes to name the mode after the character from Paranorman. My angry and enraged child modes come under August's character too, although they're not very strong in me.

Agnes is such a powerful character for me. She is accused of witchcraft, put on trial and executed at like ten years old. The anger of this betrayal turns her into a wrathful spirit that returns every year to unleash hell on the town that wronged her all those years ago. Although she is angry and can't let go of the brutality of what happened to her, she's just a scared little girl deep down who doesn't want to acknowledge or feel the pain she's held onto for so long, even though it does nothing but continue to harm her.

So today I began my practice of trying to protect August from Fletcher, who punishes and belittles him. I did this using my healthy adult mode, John. His name is inspired by Jesus; the name of Jonathan Roumie who plays him in The Chosen, and John the Baptist. I tried to say all of the things a healthy adult would say to a wounded child...

"It's okay for you to be in this position right now. Not everyone has such a clear path to the present moment, and everything you did in the past was what you felt was right at the time. And you're only 28. You have so much time to change and grow, find stability, and make a good life for yourself. You are absolutely worthy of a good job and stable income just like everyone else. Would you deny anyone else that privilege by suggesting they aren't good enough?"

I think untangling the mind by characterising these aspects of self will be so helpful to me on my journey of healing. Before, I felt like my mind was just this unfathomable web of messiness. I couldn't differentiate a truly harmless bit of fun from something that could be damaging to me, further embedding my vices deeper and deeper. But now I can see that there are different aspects to these things.

If I'm overeating, sometimes it's Logan and Jake who are in control (named after the infamously irritating Paul brothers), who represent the impulsive and undisciplined aspects of my mind. These are more playful aspects that aren't always trying to protect August, although in moments of struggle they could absolutely serve this function. But at a wider level, they represent my struggles with impulsivity and discipline. These two things are at the root of why I feel like I'm never moving forward.

Ultimately, characterising these aspects helps with the realisation that ultimately none of these characters are truly who I am, except perhaps John. John is the peace that dwells in the Silence. He represents the Son of God who never sinned. The aspect of myself that needs to be strengthened so I can move toward salvation and walk with Christ. So I pray that this process helps me to move past my crippling self-esteem issues, anxiety and depression towards a better and brighter future.

[lelibug]

There is NOTHING Beneficial About "Benefits"....

And Calling it "Welfare" is one HELL of a Joke - because they care an absolute TOSS about your "Welfare", and NONE of it Benefits You.

It's Shameful, Sickening, Humiliating, Debilitating, DEMEANING.

Now, for me and Lolli, it's about to get worse.

~~**~~

GODS-DAMNING APE-SHITE... Mam brought the MAIL .... AND It was a SHITLOAD OF CRAP TOO MUCH BEFORE CHRISTMAS....

PIP RE-APPLICATION FOR ME

FREAKING GODS-DAMNED UNIVERSAL CREDIT MIGREATION LETTER FOR US BOTH - Due before Feb 2025

MORE-THAN POLICY FOR BUDDY - Naturally his insurance is going WAY UP...

STUPID ADVOCATE FOR FAMILY FOR LOLLI.... TOTALLY THE WRONG TIME OF YEAR FOR THIS...!!!!

{First - will have to get Advocate off Lolli's back till at least MARCH Next Year, give her some recovery breathing space without him closing her down immediately. WHY does EVERYONE want to Get Hold Of Us Before Yule/Christmas??!?!}

Joint First AND Second.... have to concentrate on getting PIP done before "22 December 2024" ... Except that is a FREAKING SUNDAY(!!!). Meaning I've got to make sure THEY GET IT BEFORE OR ON FRIDAY 20th December 2024

They already took OVER A WEEK off me by sending the THICKSHITE Form SECOND CLASS and took A WEEK to get to me AFTER it got into the Royal Mail's system!! Sent it FRIDAY 22nd November. ASSHATS. Because I didn't get it till MONDAY 2nd DECEMBER, that obviously meant it MISSED the Friday post deadline and didn't even enter the postal system until the following MONDAY, FOUR DAYS LATER..(!!).

They should be sending it Track 24 to get it here ASAP. At LEAST "1st Class" - whatever that means, these days. But to miss TEN DAYS from their 1 month deadline is.. Abhorrent?? Reprehensible? It's Immoral, that's for sure.

THEREFORE... I HAVE TWO WEEKS MAXIMUM to write up the PIP Form.... !!????!!?! ... ANNNDDD I HAVE to send it EARLY, so they GET IT by or before December 20th - using Royal Mail TRACK 24**. Which Is NOT an Expense they should be putting on their recipients EVER(!!!) -- LEAST of all at Christmas Time.

That mailing service cost me nearly £7** the last time... Sods only knows what the hell it's going to be NOW...?!

***** ... Bye Bye £10 "Christmas Bonus".... Not that it's worth much anyway(!!) Want to say I can't believe it hasn't been updated since THE 1970s, when it was created... But that sounds about right, really, doesn't it?? According to an Inflation Calculater, £10 in 1972 was equivalent to more than £165 now. ---> That's DEFINITELY a Bonus for Christmas, would be A BIG MASSIVE HELP! They should have kept it in line with inflation, then people struggling would have been able to manage **SOMETHING** for themselves/Family at Christmas. .... Pathetically, Actual £10 of Now would have been giving them [just] 62p back then... There's a thought. ***

PIP PLAN: Will open up the WORD Document of the last one, re-save, add relevant changes, delete the original stuff and then that's that. And send the FND Packet (reformatted) as well.

***

In the New Year... Can then look at the Universal Credit Migration thingy for both of us.

WHY IS ALL OF THIS SHITE AROUND CHRISTMAS?!?!?!

BY LAW the DWP shouldn't be allowed to do anything like this between 1st November Yr.X and 31st January Yr.XY ... It's IMMORAL, WRONG & DESPICABLY DESPARING.

It does NOT help how TERRIBLY VULNERABLE I FEEL... NOT strong or in control whatsoever.

The DWP are SO arrogant, self-important & full of themselves... Demanding. Demeaning. Disparaging.

Denouncing anyone who needs it and get it as "Lazy Scroungers who need to be forced into labour..." As if shit wasn't BAD ENOUGH ALREADY.

This New Move To Universal Credit PETRIFIES Me.

Has done so from The Beginning. I've been on "Legacy" Benefits for over 10 years now - this change is... BRUTAL. ABHORRENTLY OVERWHELMING TO ME. To do this all during the CHAOS of CHRISTMAS...is... CRUEL TORTURE.

There's nothing even there to help with dealing this for those with #neurodivergant brains. As an #autistic person... This is FREAKING ME OUT, ENORMOUSLY.

Universal Credit has been around about as long as I've been ill, and it was a shitshow from the beginning (my ex-best friend and rommate worked for them back then, and I got firsthand, horse's-mouth tales all about it as it went along its potholed journey). But I also thought there would be a public timeline for "onboarding" users during the HUGELY SLOW migration. Except there wasn't one, and I just got LANDED IN IT, same time as PIP asked for a re-hash and sodding Chrismas 2024 came upon us.

Basically - well, I got better things to do. Like watch grass grow and paint dry. .... Oh, and there's also that SMALL THING of GETTING BETTER & RECOVERING from the latTWO YEARS OF HELL. Which is going about as well as things this world are, right now.

But instead... HAVE TO KEEP ON STRUGGLING TO SWIM AGAINST THE TIDE... With Sodding Damned TSUNAMI WAVES coming crashing at me the other way.

I am DROWNING ... and in no way does it seem like I'm not going to be taken under by ALL THIS SHITE GOING ON For Me now....

Universal Credit has ALWAYS meant a WORLD OF PAIN to everyone transferring onto it AND ever afterwards: - You have to be REASSESSED - Meaning a WORLD OF PAIN in having to DEAL WITH THAT .... On Top of the PIP one they just sent me(!!!!!!!!!)... There'll be NO WAY I'll be able to manage to go TO an assesment this time, and someone will have to come here to the house. Or do it over the phone. Or Via Skype. ALL HORRIBLE. - A HUGE PAY GAP between your last pay on the "Legacy" benefits, and Uiversal Credit - They stop it 2 weeks after you apply, BUT Takes FIVE WEEKS to freaking PROCESS...??!! - There's usually reported LESS Money being given than before - it's paid "Every Four Weeks" like PIP - meanging you get paid RANDOMLY once a month... NOTHING like actual salaried pay, which is on the same date every single month, but they say the idea is to emulate it... Which is RIDICULOUS because you can't set up reliable direct debits and standing orders on "you'll get it on dandom dates". - EVERYTHING is done ONLINE - which is kinda good, but only IF you're able to CONNECT... Including any server issues they get, or people actually READING your stupid "Notebook" on there. Granted, it's better than having to call people AND it's all in writing.... But I hardly TRUST ANYONE to actually READ it. My friend worked for these people - I got it from the horse's mouth how these places are run and the people they're run by, and the staff involved....

This is all Just a NIGHTMARE... My 20205 is looking SERIOUSLY FUCKING GRIM NOW.

[marshmallow--shark]

Ooh.. goddamn.. this game.. It's so amazing written and addicting, it was so hard to stop playing. I played it a lot and so much has happened. It's hard to remember everything bevause so. Much. Happened. Especially with the part I left off on.. I got the good end with Mitsugi where everyone else dies but Azuma and Mitsugi get rescued and escape the island which was very sweet.

And then I remembered there were other choices I didn't do so, I went back and did them. I got a different ending where Matsuda and Kido get killed and then 'someone' with an axe kills Azuma. Which by the way, when the deaths first started happening I thought it was Shimada but then he went missing and I was reminded of how weird I found Takara. Mostly cause of that big Denobulanlike smile. But!! in the axe end, he is not the one killing Azuma since he was screaming beside him, so!! I didn't know what to think! I went back to thinking the killer was Shimada since he only went missing.

But then.. well.. I played around with the choices after finding out the rest of them didn't lead to immediate bad ends and made Azuma answer hostility. And whoa I found a new end or route or something. In the scene when Kido is trying to kill Hongou, Mitsugi ends up provoking Kido which makes him go mad and Azuma tries to help, but accidentally kills Kido trying to subdue him. Everyone becomes absolutely terrified of him, except for Mitsugi who gently tries to calm his boyfriend but Azuma goes crazy and runs away. Then.. in this route you actually find Shimada and it turns out that he was killed and really fucking brutally too, I mean I didn't even recognise him until Azuma said his name. Takara or whoever went Corpse Party on his ass. I reeeally wish we could've seen him die, he was one of my favourites and it'd be so beautiful. So that ruled out my Shimada was the murderer theory unless all those endings don't correlate with each other. Anyways, Hongou apparently stumbles upon Azuma and Shimada so he tries to kill him, and also goes crazy. But Azuma retaliates and kills Hongou in self defence. He goes to a river to clean off when his very supportive boyfriend finds him and he's trying to help him in his own tsun way but Azuma is doubting everything he's saying and everyone. The descriptions of how he keeps forcing himself to smile and the new expressions portraits are so good, you can really see how strained Azuma is feeling.

I left off my playthrough with Azuma bringing Mitsugi back to where Shimada and Hongou are to get his knife. I wonder what's going to happen next.. I can't wait to play more!! I also wonder if it's going to be a everyone can become a murderer depending on your choices sort of deal since we saw Hongou go crazy. And if it was a couple of clicks away from the ending I'm going to be sad that I didn't just play through it more.