#SORRY. HAVE TO MAKE A BETTER VERSION

[lakesbian]

alright this one is getting its own post instead of a reblog on a post that is Entirely Not About That. presenting the 'what if we put amy and alec in a room together' manifesto because the thing is that it is interesting but not in the way amy/alec shippers think

Amy shook her head, talking over her, “She’s always been emotional, passionate, unrestrained, and she’s channeling all this new emotion into hate, because it’s the closest equivalent.” “New emotion?” Regent asked.  “You mean you mindraped her.” Amy looked like she’d been slapped across the face.  I wasn’t surprised, but hearing it said out loud was unsettling.

“Nice,” Regent said.  “She could be a human-spider hybrid.  Add some insult to injury with the mindrape thing.” I could see Amy tense.

it is relevant to his character that he's the first person to cut through amy's euphemisms (and everyone else's avoidance of saying the unsettling part out loud) and outright say "you mindraped her." he calls the euphemistic language out and then intentionally repeats it a second time for no other reason than to bug her about it. it's vaguely reminiscent of something he says to sophia during his interlude:

“You and I are more alike than you’d suspect, I think,” he said. “We’re both arrogant assholes, yeah?  Difference is, I admit it, I don’t dress it up and tell myself that I’m a bitch and that that’s a good thing.”  He burned Emma’s face out of another photo.

he has a repeated habit of making people uncomfortable by calling something out for exactly what it is, whether it be "yeah sure cape groupies, my dad's girls, people i used my power on towards the end" or "you mean you mindraped her." he's desensitized enough to really all forms of violence to be unbothered by committing or witnessing them, but he seems to harbor a genuine pet peeve for people who obscure or unreasonably justify what they're actually doing. as uncomfortable as he can make taylor, it's often not that he's doing things worse than the other undersiders, but that he's the person most willing to openly admit what he's doing--or to pettily call out what someone else is doing.

i think it more or less boils down to the fact that he's never gotten to be the person on the peripherals of violence making up neat and tidy ways to talk about it: he spent his entire childhood being hurt in every way imaginable & being coerced into doing the same to others. i think it left him with a sort of genuine distaste for being expected to talk in circles around the viscerally awful things he had done to him or did to others, and subsequently, for people who have done similar things but can't fucking fess up to the reality of it. it's like he's been walking around his entire life just absolutely drenched in blood, witnessing so much else get covered in it, and he's starting to get legitimately bothered over people standing around twiddling their thumbs and pretending it's red paint. he knows it's blood. he's been tasting it since he was 6. he would really like if everyone else could also grow up and admit it's fucking blood.

it's always funny to me that amy/alec shipping is, like, a Thing--a niche thing, but a Thing, because i could not think of a rapist more hand-crafted to piss amy dallon off than alec vasil. he cannot go Three seconds in her presence without going "oh you raped her? you mean you raped her? with your mind? like she doesn't just have new feelings you specifically mean you mindraped her?"

she, on some level, views herself as someone who did harm because she's irrevocably, ontologically evil, and is sort of desperately obsessed with minimalizing or half-justifying her actions to herself so that she can avoid recognizing that she feels like she can't be better. she's clinging to the idea that she can be "redeemed" if she does something of equal measure in the opposite direction (e.g 'spending the rest of her life healing people' as she mentions), but because she can't even directly acknowledge how bad her actions actually were without crumbling under the weight of the idea that she's doomed to be that bad, she's fundamentally incapable of looking directly at what she did at this point in the story.

alec, on the other hand, is really fucking upfront and fairly objective about his actions--he never ties them into some Inarguable Truth About His Soul, and he's pretty honest about whether or not he thinks they're justifiable. in 14.1, he has this dialogue with cherie:

“When daddy had you practicing your powers, you ‘hijacked’ a few people at a time, used their bodies to get high with no consequences for you, you threw orgies for yourself…” “Again.  I was a kid.”

but despite the fact that sophia is, on some level, justified in his mind by his "eye for an eye, this is a favor for taylor" rhetoric--he's fine with admitting that he's also just doing it because, yeah, he's an arrogant asshole and he feels like it. some of it was because he was a kid being groomed, and some of it was because He Felt Like It.*

*sure, he only Felt Like It because he has a comically large cocktail of unpacked psychological issues--but he doesn't know that, he just knows he felt like it.

in other words, he doesn't subscribe to the idea that any of his actions are, like, Ontologically Predetermined By His Inner Being or even necessarily all related. he's like the fuckin' "might do it again, prolly not" dude from the sex offender shuffle. okay, sorry for saying that in my seriouspost. but his philosophies would clash hilariously badly with amy--he insists on accepting his own & others actions for exactly what they are, he's generally very invested in not being his father (being asked if he intends to turn out like his dad is one of the only times something briefly upsets him), and he's actually doing pretty okay at that. he's like...shockingly well-adjusted given the circumstances. his entire arc is more or less a slow upward climb.

i think having to be around someone who both believes and would outright admit "yeah i raped people, no i dunno if i feel that bad, no i'm not raking myself over the coals for it, yeah some of it was because i was a kid, yeah some of the other stuff wasn't, no i'm not Predestined To Suck," would like. clash with her beliefs abt 'ontologically evil' being a real thing, abt punishment as justice, etc. in a way that would really bother her. she spends a lot of her time in her head trying to twist things around until they feel salvageable to her, but alec is 0 amount concerned with rationalizing to make him feel alright--he just does things, some bad, most shitty attempts to be better.

it's, funnily enough, far more functional for improving than what amy has going on--he operates on material actions as opposed to her Self-Flagellating Thought Labyrinths, and the fact that he's busier moving on from things he can't materially change than he is kicking himself in the face means he can actually achieve some form of progress towards more functional approaches wrt human interaction. i think if amy had an extended conversation w/ him about the subject, she'd both be disgusted with him for not thinking thoughtcrime is real and deeply resentful that this fellow ontologically evil villain is doing better at moving forwards as a person than her despite not 24/7 flagellating himself + yearning for "redemption" like she is. it'd throw a disturbingly large wrench in her worldview, and she would not be happy about it.

oh, and alec would think she's weird and mopey and dumb and annoying and "why do it if you can't even admit it." and he would probably tell her as much. which is the point where i unlock the door to the room so alec can sprint out to escape amy's attempt to put tastebuds on his asshole.

[cruelplatonic]

my personal headcanon is the vees were unremarkable nobodies when they were alive. i just love it as a thematic throughline for them. they love to let the public of hell speculate on them being famed and acclaimed since before death, but the the truth is they were a d-list failed influencer that got by on cheap controversey and scamming, a broke junkie who burned every shaky bridge he ever had, and a worn-out broadcast production assistant with more rejected auditions and tossed out script pitches than he could count. nobody missed them when they were gone, nobody cared who they were until they were dead.

[luminarai]

you’re on your own kid / yeah you can face this

I started this Parse comic almost a year ago (!) but I’ve only just managed to put it together now. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about Kent and how he mostly exists in bits and pieces as seen through the eyes of other characters.

There’s just something about being haunted and defined by your past (mistakes) but also finding strength on your own. (And how there can still a hopeful ending despite it all.)

[kiivg]

."Are you even listening to me, McCullum?".

[ganondoodle]

watching a video of someone playing an older game (not even THAT old) and constantly having to hear them go 'omg can you imagine how much more pretty and good this would be if it ran at 60+ fps with highest end graphics of the current modern games and in 4k???' over and over while also commenting on some graphics looking slightly muddy and how ugly and shitty 30 fps is

and i just cant help but get incredibly annoyed at that, cant you just appreciate the game for what it is?? the constant focus on smoother everything and graphics so detailed it looks faker than the real world is such a limited view on games- more polygons and higher res textures doesnt equal better ffs

i, and i might out myself with an unpoluar opinion here, but remakes are in my opinion often rather unecessary, just rerelease the old game, just make it avaible for people, officially, you dont have to reprogramm the entire thing!! maybe upscale it a little so it doesnt get stretched into a blurry mess if possible but even that i will work with no problem!! there are cases where its pretty much an entirely different game (FF7?) and i get seeing one of your fav old games get some new paint can be really cool, not arguing against that- what i dont like is that those remakes replace the original as that isnt made avaible, only the new version- like i wish i could play windwaker on my switch, but i cant stand the "HD" remake of it and i know if it ever were to get ported it will only be that version like the original doesnt exist anymore and my earlier point that many people consider more fps, more polygons, more resolution as automatically better

i dont need games to be running at 60+ fps, 30 is enough, sure id like it to run smoothly on that without huge drops, but when its stable 30, why would i need more? more often than not i prefer simplified graphics bc they often focus on the most important parts of what they are trying to achieve or work with an interesting style to compensate and i LOVE THAT, also id like to not have to download 100+ GB even when i would turn it on its lowest settings anyway, save me the space- and that is if i even got hardware that can run it at all, my computer struggles with slime rancher and i dont have the funds to buy the newest consoles nor computers

im not against remakes per se, but the fact that the old will more often than not disappear entirely and remain unavaible forever and that higher end graphics are automatically seen as better drives me nuts

[hoofpeet]

I'd probably have to read the printed version and web version back to back at some point to note all the differences but... ough

[never-ending-pizza-time]

I think some people forget that peppino can be kind of a jerk. He's not your perfect awkward nervous guy who can do no wrong, he is not perfect, but that doesn't make him a bad guy. He has flaws, because thats a normal human thing to have.

Sometimes he gets angry and a bit mean, sometimes he takes joy in beating the shit out of the tower residents, sometimes he gets selfish or says something mean to someone. His anxiety is not his only flaw, please don't forget that. He is not a perfect sunshine boy who can do no wrong. He is not nice and friendly 100% of the time. He is a human person, he is a complex being who cannot be easily defined as completely good or completely bad.

Sometimes good people do shitty things. Sometimes a person will not act in the kindest way possible. Sometimes someone will do something not realising (or caring) how it makes others feel. Sometimes people have bad days. Sometimes people make mistakes. Sometimes people are wrong.

Peppino is a human, he is not immune to being a jerk sometimes. Again, this doesn't make him a bad person, it just makes him human, and I don't want people to forget that and misinterpret him as being someone whos only flaw is his anxiety. Yes it is a key part of his character, but theres more to this guy than that, thats not his only flaw or imperfection or whatever you want to call it. He's not 'kind perfect guy who also has anxiety', theres more detail to who he is than that.

Peppino can be a bit mean, Peppino can be hotheaded, and you know what? Thats okay because thats what a person is like sometimes, and that is a sign of a complex and realisticly written character (even if he is a cartoon guy, his personality still feels realistic). He's not the same guy all of the time, he doesnt respond to every situation in the same way, he's not a one note character. Sometimes he sucks as a person, but its okay because despite all that, he's a loveable and endearing character, and he isn't a horrible terrible person, he just is human, and thats okay.

[ninyard]

remembered today I have a Jeremy Knox board on Pinterest that I can add canon things to now

[ravene]

Toast Axe of tardiness (because we all know Rodya is actually an anime girl at his heart)

This is a hard lineart version of this

[the-broken-pen]

could you write a snippet where hero and villain both show up at the same time to rescue civilian from supervillain please?

The hero’s pulse pounded in their ears, panicked and so loud–there was so much blood, oh god, they couldn’t tell where it was coming from–that they didn’t hear the villain behind them until they were slamming their elbow back into their ribcage. The villain caught it with one hand, running their gaze over the hero and their blood slicked hands as if assessing for injuries. When they did the same to the civilian, the villain went so still the hero wasn’t sure they were breathing.

The hero felt a little dizzy, actually, and they were trying incredibly hard not to cry, because that was their friend on the floor and they were never supposed to be involved in this–

“Hero,” the villain’s voice was stern, but not unkind. “Breathe.”

They choked on their next inhale, and the villain pressed against their chest with one hand until they breathed out again. There was something about the villain’s face, smooth and unyielding like stone, that pulled the hero into focus enough for them to suck in another breath.

“They need help,” they managed to gasp. The villain gave them a singular nod in confirmation.

“Yes. They do.”

“We need to–”

“You,” the villain interrupted, “need to calm down.”

“They’re dying.”

“And that’s not going to change if you’re too panicked to see straight. So take. A deep. Breath.”

Miraculously, the hero did. It was easier on the next breath, and the next, until their vision was clear and they could see the horror in front of them with all too much clarity.

The civilian was still breathing.

The villain released the hero’s elbow as soon as they realized the hero wasn’t about to panic again, grazing their fingers over the civilian’s tattered clothing in search of the worst wounds. They prodded something and the civilian winced, face bruised and entirely, blessedly, unconscious. “Pressure,” the villain gestured, and the hero. complied.

The hero knew better than to let up when the civilian, abruptly half-lucid from pain, tried to bat their hand away, but bile still rose in their throat.

“How are you so calm,” they said, and even they could tell their voice was slightly too close to hysterical. The villain glanced over at them, eyes dark, before ripping a makeshift tourniquet to tie around the civilian’s leg.

“I panicked once,” some memory, deep and dark and full of pain, flashed through the villain’s eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t do it again.”

The hero took the wad of cloth the villain handed to them, pressing it back down over the civilian’s stomach. It turned red under the hero’s fingers far faster than they would ever have wanted it to. Not that they would ever want it to, but if someone was bleeding they would at least want it to be slow–

“Oh,” they managed, voice strangled, and the villain took a moment to assess them once more. 

“Breathe,” the villain reminded. “They’re not dying. They’re beat up, but they’re stable. Emergency services are already on their way.”

The hero watched more blood well up around their hands. Pressed harder.

They would be digging red flakes out from under their nails for weeks.

“You’re normally calmer,” the villain remarked casually. If the hero’s brain wasn’t so stuck on the image of their friend bleeding below them, they would have recognized this for the distraction that it was.

“They didn’t choose this,” they whispered, throat raw. The civilian didn’t have powers, and they hadn’t chosen to use them for good or evil. They just lived, so kind and so normal.

“Neither does any other bystander,” the villain said.

“They’re my friend,” the hero willed the villain to understand, somehow, the enormity of this. The pain of knowing that it should have been them on the floor, that supervillain had done this because the civilian had been there and the hero had not.

A mistake of epic proportions. The biggest failure of their life. Not being there.

“So?”

“So it's my fault,” the hero’s voice broke, and they ducked their head down to hide the tears as they welled in their eyes. Distantly, they could pick up the barest trace of sirens, almost out of reach of their enhanced senses.

“Hero,” the villain said, voice gentle. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

The hero shook their head–

“No, listen to me,” the villain’s voice gained an edge to it. “It’s not your fault. I pissed supervillain off this week. They know the civilian is my friend. This was deliberate to hurt me, and I need you to get it through your thick skull that there was nothing you could have done to stop this.”

The hero wasn’t sure who the villain was truly saying this to–the hero, themself, or the version of the villain that had panicked so long ago, and suffered for it.

“I could have–”

“You couldn’t.” The villain’s stare was all encompassing. The hero wanted to believe them. “Stop blaming yourself for the pain other people are causing.”

“That’s kind of my whole thing,” the hero tried for something light, airy. The both of them watched it fall flat off their tongue.

“No, it’s not. Your thing is saving people, not beating yourself up over everything you think you could have done better.”

The hero didn’t have a response to that. Just stayed staring at the villain as the ambulance skidded to a stop, the red lights flashing off the villain’s hair and eyes.

Someone reached for the hero’s hands, still pressed tightly to the wound, and they flinched away, gritting their teeth. 

The paramedic raised their gloved hands as if comforting an animal. “I’m here to help,” they said slowly. 

It felt terrible unclenching their hands, letting the paramedic take their place, sliding the civilian onto a stretcher an unending minute later.

The hero swallowed hard, knees numb against the pavement, and let the villain hook their arms under the hero’s armpits to haul the upright.

“Alright, there we go,” the villain murmured easily. The hero tracked the paramedics as they closed the doors of the ambulance. 

“I should–”

“No,” the villain interrupted. They seemed to be doing that more often than usual, the hero thought slowly. “You need to get cleaned up, and eat something.”

“I need to go to the hospital, I can’t just leave them alone,” the hero argued. They tried to jerk themself from the villain’s steadying hold, and failed.

“Trust me, they’ve got a whole team keeping them alive. They’re in good company.”

“I’m failing them.” It was an entirely irrational thought, but it stung in the hero’s chest, burning its way into their ribs as an ‘almost’ truth.

“You’re taking care of yourself so that you are able to take care of them. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you're at empty. So, we’re going to get you some clothes that aren’t covered in blood, a sandwich, and go from there.”

The hero realized between one blink and the next that they were exhausted–bones aching and made of stone, dragging them down further with every second. By the time they reached the villain’s car, the only thing that was holding them up was the villain; the weight of panic and a too long day spent trying to save the entire city pressing down on them.

They were dumped into the passenger seat without fanfare, and if they weren’t so tired, they would have protested about the blood, or question how the villain had gotten their car here.

The villain slammed the door, settling themself into the driver’s seat a moment later. They dug through the center console, too dark for the hero to make out what they were grabbing, before they scrubbed the hero’s hands with a baby wipe. 

They had the engine started before the hero had a chance to look down at their own–now clean–hands.

“It’s not your fault,” the villain said again. Their tone left no room for argument.

“You keep saying that,” they watched as the city lights flickered through the car windows. “Why?”

The villain’s jaw clenched in the periphery of their vision. When they answered, it was so soft and quiet the hero almost didn’t catch it.

“Because nobody said it to me.”

The hero let their head slump against the window, half-asleep as they watched the roads vanish behind them.

“Hey,” they said quietly. They didn’t have to look up to know the villain’s attention was solely on them.

Sleep pulled on them until their voice was little more than an exhaled breath. 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The villain sucked in a shuddering breath.

“It isn’t your fault.”

Before sleep managed to swallow them whole, the hero swore they caught a single tear streaking down the villain’s cheek.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

Sophie Shepard & Dominik Shepard (ME2)

Ft. Cmdr. Kaidan Alenko & Zaeed Massani MIRA'S MORE CANON ME2 "We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon- in different galaxies..." AKA: The aftermath of Lair of the Shadow Broker. Recruiting the Not-Dossier: Apollo. Mass Effect 2: Legendary Edition (2021) + Bonus :)

[aquared]

where did this small victorian london orphan boy find wifi

[sleepytownez]

All I’m going to say is that I really don’t like how they handled Li Jing…

[icecreamsodaaaaa]

Thoughts on different dragons having cultures and different languages?

[the-meme-monarch]

ok newsletter euphoria has worn off i hate love again

[skeletalheartattack]

hi I like gelato a lot