#Wild to think this show has been on longer than I've been alive

[flyinghellfish]

another surprisingly good Simpsons episode in season 35. Episode 15, Cremains of the Day, was quite mellow and had nice progression, a great song parody, fantastic animation direction, and a good number of solid jokes. Pretty wild how a TV show can have a 20 year slump and then suddenly start getting good again in the 30th season.

[pastafossa]

Happy Birthday and a merry 6 years to TRT! 🎂 🎁 🎈 🎉 🍰

🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯

Some FUN TRIVIA FACTS:

TRT's sun sign is VIRGO and its moon sign is LEO!

After 6 years, its current wordcount is 932k words. If you put that in size 12 arial font, single-spaced, this would come to about 2000 pages, and even more if the pages were the usual mass market paperback size!

TRT is now 40 in cat years!

The Man in the White Coat is my tribute to the Mad Scientist trope common in scifi, which is one of my favorite genres!

It is old enough developmentally to tie its shoes! Keep going, TRT!

Ciro is partially inspired by John Marcone from The Dresden Files!

TRT shares a birthday with literary great Agatha Christie! Maybe I'll introduce poison-based murder into the fic in her honor...

The idea of seeing threads came to me after seeing a meme about red threads tying soul mates together. Everything that came after - the other threads, the thread world, how it works, is unique to TRT!

TRT is now longer than War and Peace, and Crime and Punishment combined! So if you've read all of TRT so far, then you have the perfect middle finger to anyone who tries to say you can't focus on longer stories!

The inciting penguin documentary that Foggy drunkenly watched (which led to him declaring Matt and Jane 'penguins') was about Adelie penguins specifically!

Jane has a leather jacket because I love leather jackets and think all badass characters should have a leather jacket! And so you should you! EVERYONE DESERVES A COOL LEATHER JACKET.

The long hiatus between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5 was because I had life things pop up. During that hiatus, I realized the plotline/ending needed some work, so I spent those two years outlining, and I also wound up doing a bunch of additional novel writing classes just because I wanted to learn. A lot of this wound up influencing TRT!

The grey threads are one of the only threads that no one has solved yet!

There are absolutely some bad people working for Cyrus James. There is also a guy named Kyle. He is there not for Evil Purposes (tm) but instead because this was the only place he could work that would allow him to pay off his student loans.

When I started TRT, I thought maybe 5 people total would read it. I was told five people total would read it by some shitty people. So I wrote it expecting five total people would read it, and told myself at least I'd enjoy it, and I could use it to learn. In other words: I had ZERO idea TRT would take off like this. None. Nada. Zip. AND LOOK AT US NOW, BABY. FUCK THE HATERS, 6 YEARS AND GOIN' STRONG.

Based on my outline, we're a bit over halfway to the end!

I hope you enjoyed these TRT funfacts. And I hope you know: this fic isn't just me. It's you, too. This fic has become so much larger than just me. It's the TRT playlist you've sent songs in for that keeps me inspired when writing. It's the fanart I look at to give me a boost. It's your sweet comments and likes and kudos and messages that encourage me when I'm sick or depressed. It's the people who've made friends over this fic, or who've been inspired to write fic themselves, adding beautiful works to the community that we all use to keep going. It's all of this love for both TRT and Matt, and I'm so happy that I've been able to contribute in at least a small way in keeping Charlie!Daredevil love alive even after the show's been gone for years now. I love you all so, so goddamn much. I love this fandom. I love TRT with all my heart. Thank you so much for being a part of these past six years through cancelations, through your high school and college years and beyond, through my ups and downs of moving and sickness and fiberglass and pandemic craziness, through late night chapter drops and wild twists and turns.

And I hope the next few years as we enter the second half of this story are just as amazing!

[judgeanon]

It Sure Has Been a Wild Couple of Days to be a Lady Shiva Fan

(Art by Skylar Partridge)

So after only showing up for a backup story in DETECTIVE COMICS a few months ago and for a few pages in the last issues of BATGIRLS back in January, turns out that Lady Shiva is gonna be a major part of not one, but two different series come November. Putting my thoughts under the jump 'cause they might be long:

First, there's an all-new BATGIRL ongoing written by Tate Brombal and drawn by Takeshi Miyazawa. I'm not really familiar with either of them, but I'm gonna try to check some of their work in the weekend. As for the plot:

When a deadly group of assassins shows up to kill Cassandra Cain, Lady Shiva must come to the rescue, and they’re forced to put their complicated past aside and work together as mother and daughter to ensure they make it out alive. Unfortunately, things are never as easy as they seem, and Batgirl must embark on a jaw-dropping, martial-arts filled adventure in her quest for truth and justice…and revenge?! This is a Batgirl unlike any other so don’t miss the opportunity to dive into the psyche of one of Gotham City’s deadliest fighters, while exploring her deep and complex relationship with her mother.

Here's the thing: while I am overjoyed that after Bryan Hill's OUTSIDERS we've pretty much exorcised the idea of Shiva as a zealous, card-carrying member of the League of Assassins, I've been a little bothered by how literally every single big Shiva appearance afterwards has revolved around Cass. Even in that weird short stint leading a new Birds of Prey team, her motivation was somehow gaining Cass' trust for... reasons. So I'm glad Shiva's no longer an LoA flunky, but I'm concerned with how she seems so tied at the hip with Cass -- especially since Cass does get to have stories that don't involve Shiva at all.

But at the same time, I do think there's a lot of meat on that bone, meat that, in my eye, nobody has really sank their teeth in yet. Hill tried but he was working within a team book, and Cloonan and Conrad just sorta teased it. This one, however, feels like a story about Shiva and Cass built from the ground up, with all the room necessary for some actual development from the two. This is them not as a subplot or as a tease for future stories, but as The Story. And while that may go in a bunch of different ways, I'm definitely interested to see what way this will go.

Annnd then there's Tom King and Ryan Sook's BLACK CANARY: BEST OF THE BEST, which I'm... a little less interested in.

Black Canary faces her toughest opponent yet, Lady Shiva, in a battle to determine who is the single greatest hand-to-hand fighter in the DC Universe. To make it to the final round, Black Canary will need all her fighting skill and ability, plus additional training from some of DC’s most accomplished fighters, including Batman, Wildcat, and even her mother, the original Black Canary!

Yeaaaaah, I just... I'm not feeling this one. There's not any real mention of a plot here, not a lot to really grab on to other than vibes, and the vibes are just weird. It's weird how Dinah is fighting to determine who's the best fighter, something that to me isn't really a huge part of her character. It's weird that, from the preview pages, they're fighting in like a Vegas casino, in a ring, with an audience. It's weird that there's three trainers mentioned and none of them are Cass, who not only has beaten Shiva before but has trained with Dinah at least twice in canon. And this being tumblr, let me say it's also weird that this is a story about a white woman training with three white people to beat up an Asian woman in martial arts.

It's a six issue mini and the short solicit and weirdness is clearly meant to pique curiosity. But I'm dreading how much this all sounds like it's using Shiva to put Dinah in a pedestal, to show how strong and resilient and stubborn she can be. Even if it goes for a ROCKY ending of "Lost the fight but won at life", unless Shiva is written very thoughtfully, it feels like she's just gonna be there for the sake of Dinah's character. And I dunno if I trust King to write Shiva with any real thought.

So that's kinda where I'm at. Neither of these are a full Shiva solo, and one of them fills me with dread, but it's been a real rush to have two major Shiva-related projects like these be revealed one after the other. And with 2025 being the 50th anniversary of her debut, hey, who knows? Maybe this is just paving the road for something special. Hope springs eternal, no?

[oldguardleatherdog]

OLD MACDONALD BOUGHT THE FARM: "Barking and meowing" by students is being banned in a hysterical panic by another ignorant Florida school board. How long are we gonna put up with this insidious nonsense?

I've had it. These nutcases are about to regulate onomatopoeia in elementary school. Don't laugh - it's hiding something ominous, and it's deliberate.

First: If you're in the furry fandom - as I've been for 26 years (longer than the average fur has been alive these days) - TAKE THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY.

If they're actually banning K-12 school age kids from wearing anything animal-themed (yeah, it's that broad) and restricting the sounds they can utter for Christ's sake, you can be sure that the wild-eyed crazeballs chick who runs LibsOfTikTok and singlehandedly caused the wave of library closings over the mere existence of LGBTQ+ characters in books - to the extent that the State of Missouri legislature has defunded the entire statewide public library system! - already has her sights trained on Midwest FurFest, and the lunatics who closed down Boston Children's Hospital with bomb threats are already booking flights to bring the Nazis-with-guns to every furry convention in America by the end of this year, AND IF YOU DON'T GET WITH THE PROGRAM THEY'RE GOING TO BLOW YOUR oWo uWu ASSES OFF!

Enough dicking around, my fellow furballs. You know what to do.

Here's what I posted to Reddit last night - piss-poor metrics for my posts about the Wile E. Coyote anvils over our heads, but my groaners in the r/3amjokes and r/dadjokes subs get 35,000 views. Go figure.

In the meantime, read, heed, and reblog like your life depends on it, because it does:

---

You may laugh at first glance, or shake your head at "Florida again" - but it's a stalking horse for their next milestone: banning student behavior and appearance that to the MAGAs and right-wing nut jobs carries even a *hint* of LGBTQ+, and then - say it with me -

Identifying students who are mature enough to have come out as LGBTQ+ fully or in part (friends, family); those who are known to be "questioning" and on their way to coming out; those who are beginning to identify as other than heterosexual or show "tendencies" or "predelictions", and students too young to be self-aware in those ways but are seen as suspect by teachers and administrators - and then, gradually at first, then quickly and deliberately separating, isolating, and ultimately barring them from access to public education.

Kentucky has said it out loud just this week, clearly, plainly, with no room for ambiguity: "It's time to eliminate 'transes' from our schools."

If you're still on the fence about getting involved with activism and protests to put this movement down for good before it becomes too big to stop - and we still have time to stop it and crush it - do you think they'll stop after just banning kids?

You don't need to have psychic powers or a crystal ball to see what's heading our way. Soon.

You can choose to do nothing - or you can choose to act. One or the other. Simple, plain, clear.

Joni Mitchell once sang, "it all comes down to you," and she was right, of course, but if you listened closely, her meaning was clear then, and applies now - one choice will save you, the other will not.

Only one of these choices has the potential to turn the tide, the clearly visible, quickening, rising tide that's got crazy Jesus in its eyes and a list with your name on it.

I cannot choose for you, of course. No one can.

Last time I looked, this was still a free country.

But if you do not make the right choice - *you*, Constant Stranger, she sang - no one will be able to save you, or us. And the choice is upon us, sooner than we thought, and now.

Time to choose.

[wordsandrobots]

I just wanted to say I have so much respect for the incredible essays and fic you write for IBO, and I’m so grateful you’re in this fandom.

I was wondering, have you talked previously about McGillis’ line of “Is there such thing as true happiness and fake happiness?” especially when considered alongside his line of wanting to make Almiria happy? If not, what do you make of that?

It’s been floating around in my head ever since I watched the show, but I haven’t been able to figure out exactly what to make of it and haven’t had the time to rewatch the show yet.

Thank you! My brain has been set to overdrive on the subject of Iron-Blooded Orphans for more than three years now (please send help) so I'm not sure I could have stopped if I tried.

Anyway. Oh boy. That line. No, I haven't written commentary on it previously, at least not directly. But it underpins literally everything I've done in terms of fanfic spiralling out of McGillis' actions, so I have thought about it quite a lot.

For me -- apart from being the moment Gaelio realises precisely how far he's fucked everything up -- that question is the distillation of McGillis as a character. And as much as he says it about his treatment of Almira, it also serves as an excellent vector for examining McGillis and Gaelio's changing relationship throughout the entire show, specifically with regard to why Gaelio is Always Wrong (TM) about his best-friend-turned-mortal-enemy.

The context here is important, since this final scene is the one point in the entire show where we can uncomplicatedly say McGillis is being completely open. He's lost. He's dying. Everything he hoped to achieve has fallen to pieces. Visually, he's been stripped back to his child self, hair fallen wild and expression dulled. This is McGillis undone. It no longer matters what he does or how he presents, so he's finally able to be honest with Gaelio. All the masks are off.

Gaelio, of course, is in full avenger mode, demanding McGillis stay alive long enough to look directly at the consequences of his actions and face his crimes. And McGillis finally admits that all the jumping up and down and masked-ghost shenanigans was unnecessary: he'd *always* seen Gaelio and always held affection for him. He wasn't some cold traitor, saying all the right things to get close enough to stab everyone in the back. Gaelio and Carta were his friends, and though that was anathema to his desire for power, it wasn't a fraud. He even promised to make Gaelio's sister happy for the sake of their friendship.

The English dub script adds the phrase 'no matter the cost' to the end of this statement and I think that's a very acute sentiment, given McGillis nearly dies sooner due to the wound he suffered stopping Almiria from killing herself. His own actions prove he means what he says: even at the cost of harm to himself, he was determined to honour his word on at least this point.

Predictably, Gaelio responds by reiterating the accusation of McGillis spreading delusions. Any happiness McGillis gave to Almiria could only be fake (due to the scheming, backstabbing, brother-murdering and so on). Which leads McGillis to asking, does it matter?

Are there such things as true and fake happiness?

I mentioned masks. For Gaelio, that's a literal object, a disguise to conceal his survival (from anybody who doesn't have the official height chart to hand, at least), that is literally discarded at this point. But for McGillis, the masks always run deeper. Indeed, if there's one thing we can say about his Montag persona and the attendant jester's visage, it's that it allows him to act more like he really wants to, to the point he starts getting a little giddy.

No, for him, masking is performance. Acting. The construction of a surface persona to meet the demands of the situation he's in. Gaelio draws attention to this when describing how McGillis changed as they grew into teenagers, opting to actively fit in with the social scene around them and only seeming to share his 'true' feelings when the two were alone. As the audience, though, we can trace his chameleonic nature back further. In the montage of McGillis' past, we see him adapting to the various situations he is forced into, first by teaching himself to commit violence to establish dominance, then by cultivating studiousness. It seems unlikely McGillis being chosen as Iznario's heir was disconnected from how hard he worked on building himself up in order to survive. Learning how to navigate social and political environments is a natural progression of these efforts.

That this *is* conscious construction is key. Because McGillis also sets out to transform himself into the ideal Agnika Kaieru represents. Ultimately this culminates in physically altering his body so he can use Gundam Bael, but it's far more than that. He trains himself in the two-sword fighting style Agnika used, long before he's anywhere near achieving his goal. He immerses himself in Gjallarhorn's hierarchy and assists skilled, lower-class officers like Isurugi. He dispenses with his childhood sombreness in favour of an authoritative, rigorous, charismatic professional persona. All of this serves his goal of achieving absolute power, yes. It's also about shaping himself into what he thinks he should be -- the embodiment of the characteristics he attributes to Agnika.

There are a few positive aspects to this. Gaelio, operating on the assumption McGillis is a cynical back-stabber, thinks he goes to Mars to survey the mobile armour situation for personal gain. But in truth McGillis goes to ensure Hashmal doesn't awaken. It's the kind of move someone in Gjallarhorn *should* make, so he does. That he is later inspired to go after the Order of the Seven Stars as Gaelio originally imagined he intended is a reaction to things spiralling out of control and exciting him with the world's most ill-advised historical re-enactment; it's not where he comes into the situation. Likewise, he seems to have been a fairly good inspector, exposing corrupt officers like Coral and later doing due diligence on pulling the Outer Earth Orbit Regulatory Joint Fleet (oh cripes I can write than from memory) into proper fighting shape.

At the same time, it means McGillis is always dishonest with other people. He's always got an angle, is always holding something back, always tries to fit everyone into his plans, somehow. Even when he is truthful (such as saying he's admired Carta for treating him as an equal when they were kids or sharing his faith in Agnika's principles with Almiria), there are other factors to consider. His scheme to gain power inside Gjallarhorn, his need to keep things running smoothly, his obsession with being the individual who can transform the world -- these are in play right up until he is bleeding out on the floor.

It's natural, given this, to ask 'who is the true McGillis?' What really exists underneath the layers of performance? However, I think doing so is to repeat a lot of Gaelio's mistakes because, as we eventually find out, McGillis himself fails to draw a meaningful boundary between 'real' and 'fake'.

He promised Gaelio he'd take care of Almiria while in the act of killing him. It was politically prudent to maintain the engagement and he also considered Gaelio a true friend, so there's good reason to honour the promise. On top of that, Almiria is someone he appears to care greatly for, perhaps out of fellow-feeling since she is as much a pawn in others' games as he once was. Thus, her happiness becomes one of his chief goals. To this end, he accommodates her wishes to be seen as a grown-up lady (as imagined by a nine-year-old) and explains how what he is doing will benefit them both. He goes so far as to stop her from harming herself once his deception is exposed, promising that one day, she will be truly happy despite everything.

And the next time he refers to Almiria in any way -- the last time, prior to his final confrontation with Gaelio -- it is to internally chide her for being so troublesome as to leave him with a wound that negatively affects his battlefield performance. Placed alongside his earlier lines to her and the act of putting his hand in the way of the dagger she aimed at her throat, it's an *incredibly* dismissive reaction. It would be easy to read this as him having only pretended to care about Almiria all along, concealing a real disdain. Except, again -- he put his hand in the way of that dagger, without hesitation.

What's going on here?

Well, McGillis presents in whichever way he needs to in order to navigate his circumstances, saying whatever he thinks is most likely to get the outcome he wants. That's his base state for interacting with the world, as a consequence of growing up the way he did. Seeing no distinction in the veracity of happiness speaks to a very outcome-focused view on human interaction. What difference does it make if a positive reaction is prompted by sincerity or by moulding oneself into a form best suiting the other person? They're still happy. Or giving the appearance of it. That's enough, right?

We eventually see this approach fail with Tekkadan, owing to McGillis' misunderstandings about them. Towards the end of the show, stripped of material superiority, his appeals to their fighting spirit fall flat. He tries to sway them on the level he thinks they operate (pride, desire for power, strength of will) rather than the shared loyalty and familial bonds that actually drive them forward. He simply doesn't realise the things they have pursued were always a means to an end -- each other's safety -- rather than the end itself.

That failure highlights both how important it is to engage with the reality of what you're trying to manipulate (the critical distinction separating him from Rustal) and how genuine McGillis is about his stated goals. He really does want to become the all-powerful leader of Gjallarhorn and believes that will allow him to make the world better. He'd do anything to achieve it. Just like he really means to ensure Almiria's happiness, however much he needs to cover up and present differently -- or even suffer physical harm -- to do so.

That right there is the fundamental problem with how Gaelio sees him throughout Season 2. He doesn't get that McGillis' performances are not strictly falsehoods but tools used to obtain the outcome he's proclaiming to anyone who'll listen. The act may be pieced together from truth or lies or force of strength; what matters is that it *works*.

I spent my essay about Agnika focusing on McGillis' ideology. What the true/false happiness line exemplifies is his methodology or, more strictly, the survival strategy he adapted into a generalised approach. It's the Tekkadan strategy error -- applying the same methods over and over in situations where they are increasingly counter-productive -- writ on a subtler scale. A compulsive need to treat every interpersonal encounter as having a specific outcome, where the actual content, the human connection, and the emotional impact lose any significance beyond 'if X then Y'.

The kicker being that, when McGillis does have to deal with genuine emotions on their own terms, he shoves them as far away from himself as he can. Carta and Gaelio should have been his closest allies and loyalist supporters, not to mention a positive impact on his wellbeing due to, you know, actually caring about him as a person. Instead, he kills/tries to kill them, not just because their deaths serve his ambitions but because they gave him something other than his ambitions -- full stop. Something else. And he couldn't have both.

McGillis could not build himself into the perfect embodiment of individualism while keeping his friends close. He couldn't continue to persist on an outcome-focused approach with unprompted, un-targeted happiness just happening to him. From everything else about his character, I'm not sure he could ever have trusted the feelings Carta and Gaelio induced in him. Far better to construct the happiness he thought he wanted. Far safer. Far more natural, for someone under no illusions about the world's hypocrisies, or what people do in order to survive.

The tragedy is that this is an inescapable problem. McGillis was always going to chose the constructed ideal future over the reality that lay within touching distance. The damage, for that's what this is, was done long before anyone who cared was in a position to intervene. This is somebody who'd execute the people he cares for and who cannot understand his best friend crying over his dying admission of affection, any more than he can grasp why being willing to do anything to ensure a little girl's happiness isn't necessarily laudable. Where would you even begin trying to unpick that?

Which of course is exactly what makes him so effective within this story. There's a paradox at the heart of McGillis, which is part of why I've never tried to write his perspective in my fic, where he manages to be profoundly honest and chronically self-deluding, the signifiers of a manipulative bastard twisted around into . . . I don't really want to call it pathology because I think that undersells the active choice to be who he is. But we see how he got there, the trauma that went into making him, how different aspects of it meshed together, shaping him one after the other. It's not just the homelessness, or the sexual assault, or being trafficked, or being made a pawn in a political game, or fixating on a historical figure. It's all of them put together, and I think it's a fantastic bit of character work.

There simply isn't a solution. Just an inescapable arc towards disaster, and the devastation of a pair of siblings who each loved him more dearly than he could possibly conceptualise.

-----

That's more or less where I land on things, anyway. Hopefully this was mostly coherent, as rambles go? Like with everything to do with McGillis, I can never just pull one thread. The man's a living rats-nest, which I love about him but does make it difficult to be succinct!

Thank you very much for the ask, and for your kind words. I will admit to feeling a degree of 'if there's no active fandom for this show, I'll damn well do it myself' when I started writing the fic and the essays, so it delights me no end to know there are people getting a kick out of them. :)

[cr1mson5returns]

Yet another idea I've been tossing around...

Cassie isn't really happy about the whole arrangement she has with Tim when he finally shows his face in Gotham City again. It boiled down to "I know I was an absolute ass to you last time we talked, but I desperately need you to trust me on this one and just let me run wild for a little bit, okay?"

She was not okay with that. But she had to be okay with it in the end, just to avoid losing one of her closest friends. She had been worried about Tim for a while, but the worry levels exploded exponentially after she learned about the Anti-Life Equation. There had been a disturbing lack of Tim during the Crisis, after all, and nobody had really been able to explain it away until then. She knew enough about the whole thing to know that he'd been made to do awful things, things he probably still remembered. And honestly, Cassie starts to wonder if maybe some part of that stuck around in his mind a little longer than it should've, if maybe he's acting the way he is because he was influenced a little too much by the Equation.

After the team effort that goes into besting Ra's al Ghul, Cassie does check in on Tim. Makes sure he's okay and planning to heed Alfred's request of no patrol for a week (under threat of house arrest), and asks Tim to text her sometime. She doesn't want to be overbearing - not sure how he'd react, given their last couple of conversations and everything he's gone through so far - but she wants him to know she cares.

It becomes irritatingly apparent that Cassie can't just let Tim be the director of how often they check in with each other. She gets one or two texts in six weeks, and both are sort of vague assurances that he's still alive and will probably be alive tomorrow. But it's sitting wrong with her. She pulls the best friend card and bullies Dick into giving her Tim's new home address before she flies to Gotham.

In this weird little interim period when Tim isn't feeling welcome or wanted at the manor, but doesn't quite have as much money in his own personal bank account as he needs for anything else, he's renting a spot in one of the historic neighborhoods of the city. It's an older building, and Cassie can tell that there's been no effort to fortify this place on Tim's end from how easily the window slides open. Still, she climbs through and finds him sprawled on his back on the bed. He lifts his head to give her a look - puzzled? Mostly annoyed. Cassie doesn't care. She sets a fresh-made smoothie down on the bedside table. "Here, it's black cherry."

And with that, Cassie sits down on the edge of the bed somewhere in the space between Tim's right arm and leg. She doesn't say anything when he expends a little more effort than usual pulling himself up into a seated position. What she does say is: "I didn't forget what you told me, you know. About the Crisis and the Equation."

Tim takes a drink of his smoothie. "I think you should," he tells her.

Cassie rolls her eyes, gulps down a mouthful of strawberry banana. "I disagree. You can't just drop that shit on me and expect me not to wonder if you're okay."

She doesn't turn around but she knows Tim shrugs at that. "It doesn't matter. I've been through worse."

"Have you?"

Tim doesn't say anything to that. "You're about to make me go to therapy."

Cassie snorts. "No. I'm about to make you spend time doing things you actually like for once."

"I like being Red Robin."

"Can I please just have one conversation with you where you're not lying to my face? And besides, you know damn well I'm not talking about that. When was the last time you had a camera in your hands? Went to the skate park? Fuck, when was the last time you did anything that wasn't hero work?"

She does turn, then, to see Tim just looking down at his lap. He's straining not to squeeze the smoothie in his hands, she can tell. "Long time ago," he admits.

Cassie just nods. She figured as much. "Well....it's not too late to start again."

[charrfie]

Sends you spamton ask. My guy when he is nervous in the light world because it's his chance to start over; to be something simpler. To not try so hard to be bigger than himself, a well deserved break...

I've been sitting on this ask overnight bc its something I feel I could say so much about and yet I don't know if I could really express it all. Because it's such a wild change for him. Something so strange and foreign. He doesn't want to mess this up; not everyone gets a second chance, and yet he does. I think he'd struggle with the thought of that a lot. Despite all the difficulties he's waded through throughout his life, he still has a lot of internalized self hatred that I'm sure would rear its head upon the second chance he's dreamed of and prayed for actually coming to fruition. He knows he's not been a good person in the past, so how come this is the chance he's been given?

That and the fact that spamton is very, very stubborn. Annoyingly so. He's stubborn in his perseverance, which both is a gift and a curse. It's what made him rise to fame, it's what caused his downfall, it's what's kept him alive and fighting even when he had nothing. He wants to prove others wrong about himself- about his worth. And I feel like that same stubbornness would shine through in his adjusting to the light world. The stubborn survival instinct to continue the only way he's ever known how to live combatted with the urge to change and start over. To let something new grow. However slow its bloom may be. In all the hatred he's seen over the years, kindness has been extended to him by kris, and that changes something in him. Maybe he too could show the same kindness to himself. Not kill who he's always been, but allow it to live peacefully alongside who he wants to become with his second chance. It's scary. And he's a nervous wreck about such a drastic change. He doesn't want to mess this chance up. Doesn't want to let it slip through his fingers.

I think that one day in the light world he would wake up and realize there's a weight no longer on his shoulders. His first thought wouldn't be the fear of losing the new life he's found, but that of the friends that surround him; those that are willing to support him no matter his past wrongdoings.

The idea of becoming simpler than one once was would be hard for him to truly imagine for himself. But he tries so hard, every day. Until it doesn't even strike him that he's allowed himself to really live again.

[purefandomonium]

Another Glitchy Red Snippet

A little sneak peak at my latest fixation work. This is a few more chapters in from what I've posted so far, but I was really proud of it and wanted to share. It's not the whole chapter, just the part I enjoyed the most. If you've read the first 3 parts I posted, you'll know that the GameBoy here was modified to be fully rechargeable and has an awkward microphone attachment added onto it because in this particular situation, Red can't hear outside of the GameBoy. If you haven't read any of it, that last sentence should clear up any confusion. At this point, I might as well just call this a fanfic because it's far exceeded the short story it was supposed to be.

Oops. Anyway:

RED: Maybe I should just show you.

The screen went black then, and she felt a jolt of panic shoot through her as she checked the charger she’d made. It was still plugged in, the wall portion seemed fine…

She needn’t have worried as the screen lit back up again, a bright, unnatural white it shouldn’t have been capable of producing. She had to squint to just to look at it. It almost seemed to spill out of the edges, more a physical substance than something produced by a screen. She watched as colorful pixels—more than the GameBoy should’ve been able to handle—swarmed about the blank space as they arranged themselves into a defined shape.

The form of a black-haired kid in a red and white hat with bright red eyes stared back.

Perhaps kid was the wrong word. Physically, she knew the image before her was supposed to be roughly ten- to eleven-years-old. That’s how it always seemed to be in these games, she’d noticed. Let the child be the hero rather than the adults because it would net more sales among the youth that way. But Red—the real Red— didn’t look like some rambunctious brat with a lot of ambition. He looked tired, worn out, and he held an air of melancholy that looked nothing like the superstar poster boy he was meant to be for the series.

Understandable, given his situation. His appearance matched his experience of being trapped forever in a game he couldn’t stop from happening, being tormented for well over twenty years by players looking to break the game further than it already was.

He looked like a child subjected to unspeakable torture that was forced to grow up.

RED: This is me. This is the real RED.

“…I always thought the game itself was your body,” she mumbled numbly, still in shock at this sudden display of ability.

Red shook his head. Despite the fact he didn’t have a voice, his lips still mouthed the words that appeared on screen.

RED: The cartridge was never my body. It’s just my prison.

“…I’m sorry, Red. I wish I knew how to get you out of there.”

He shrugged. Tilting his head:

RED: You seem to think that would make a difference. Why?

Why? He wouldn’t be so miserable for one thing! “Red, you do realize this proves you’re alive right? Maybe not in the same way as me. You don’t have a living, breathing body, but you have a soul! Or something like it. Besides, isn’t being free what you wanted?” She watched him cast his gaze downwards, head tilting to follow. His hat left an impossible shadow over his eyes so that all she could see was his frown.

RED: I’m not really sure what I want anymore.

RED: At first, I wanted revenge.

RED: Revenge on every single player who’d wronged me. Who warped the game into this unrecognizable mess.

His form flickered, shifting into something dark for a single instant.

RED: I wanted payback on the ones who created me, who created that impostor and left me ABANDONED when I was no longer GOOD ENOUGH.

RED: I WANTED TO KILL THEM ALL.

His face twisted then, teeth bared in a wild snarl. His shoulders raised and the collar of his jacket went nearly all the way up to his hat. Though she couldn’t see them, she knew his hands were tightly clenched. He radiated anger like this, but it soon dissipated. She felt a strong sense of relief when his face went back to normal and realized how quickly her heart was beating.

RED: …But then I realized it wouldn’t make a difference.

RED: I’d still be forgotten and replaced, the only people who would’ve remembered me would be dead…

RED: …It wouldn’t erase the torture I’d experienced.

RED: Getting out would be nice, but where would I even go? What would I do? I don’t even exist in the real world.

RED: As far as anyone’s concerned, I’m just a character in a video game.

Leann was at a loss for words. Was there even an acceptable response to this?

Red didn’t seem to care. He lifted his head and locked eyes with her, somehow knowing how to find them, and gave a small smile.

RED: You’re the only person who’s ever treated me like I matter, so if it’s alright with you…

RED: …I’d like to stick with you a little longer. Maybe I’ll figure things out then.

She simply stared back, blood red eyes boring into her even though that was impossible. What was she supposed to say here? Her heart was still calming down from his prior display of rage.

[skimblyspones]

[Image Description: a screenshot of a series of tags from user @fuckyeahspones. Lightly reformatted and punctuated for readability, the tags are as follows:

Meta.

Leonard McCoy.

Don't get me started on how people like to write or treat his character like this; feeding into the slower than fuck southerner stereotypes on top of others (eye-roll emoji). Drives me bonkers.

He is the CMO on The Flagship of The Federation, that means his competence is high.

He is as much of a miracle worker as Scotty, but he tries to be more "humble" about it, until it needs to be stated he has the qualifications.

Treating people comes first, not his ego.

He's not dumb; he's the head of several departments; it drives me up the wall when people just kinda dismiss it.

End description.]

@fuckyeahspones No but you're so correct.

Specifically, the note about him being somewhat humbler than Scotty about his abilities; he consistently sells himself short right before doing something unprecedented. Just about every "I'm a doctor, not a–" is followed by him doing The Thing anyway and succeeding, which was the initial impetus for my post, along with seeing a completely unrelated tweet that reminded me just how many specialized disciplines there are in medical science that Bones nonetheless shows proficiency in to a wild degree.

And his skills clearly matter to him and his sense of self; on top of the Spock Stuff, one of the biggest things that hurts my heart abt TMP-era Bones is all the times he has his competency called into question, explicitly or implicitly, and how much it rattles him to be unable to save people.

Another difference between him and scotty, too I think, though really I think it might just be a longer, more involved version of what you said in your tags, is that Scotty is well aware he exceeds most expectations for a chief engineer with the bullshit situations he has to put up with, which means when he's struggling to get around it the audience knows they should worry. But McCoy...I'm genuinely not sure he realizes just how ridiculously cool he is?

Like, I'm of two minds about it. And I think they could potentially be reconciled but I've never thought abt them at the same time. But anyway.

The first point to me is that McCoy doesn't realize that he is exceptional specifically because he already places such high expectations on himself. As Final Frontier showed us, his deepest pain has been his inability to cure his father or relieve his pain; he'd kept him alive and suffering, then let him die, only for a cure to be discovered weeks later that could have justified keeping him alive and in pain longer; it was one of the world's worst moral quandaries and it's implied McCoy has been living with that trauma for most of his career. Also, just. The trauma of being his own father's literal actual doctor in that time frame. Even without the cure discovery, being the one to actually pull the plug; there was never a way he could have left that scenario with a healthy sense of his skills and responsibilities. But all that to say; I wouldn't be surprised if he thought it was just, like. The bare minimum to have as much medical knowledge that he does.

My second thought is that calling himself a simple country doctor neither negates nor recognizes his immense skillset. It's not as tied to his trauma as the above idea, but it does also posit that this is standard, and leans more into the fact that he is more of a civilian than the other officers we spend time with. Sure, Scotty's work is exceptional in terms of also being a lieutenant commander who is 3rd in the line of command onboard the ship. But we don't have civilian engineers to compare him with. In TOS, anyway. That is to say, with this idea Bones is absolutely aware that he knows A Lot of Shit, at least to people who are Soldiers that also do science, but in understating his own abilities he's also doing some maneuvering/posturing. Sure, it might be remarkable that a Federation CMO could jerry-rig a life saving patch for a silicone-based life form, but try being the only doctor of any kind for miles around back home; I wouldn't be surprised in the least if he knew a level of veterinary care.

But anyway, yeah, common denominator there is that I feel like, for Bones, part of why he doesn't make a big deal of his abilities is because to him, doing what he does is already the expectation; it's the mark of competency. Which is a big part of why we see him get hit so hard when he fails.

Sometimes I forget how much shit McCoy canonically knows, at least to a degree of competence. Like ok sure he’s not an Engineer or a bricklayer but he’s damn well more than “a simple, country doctor”; he’s got the sciences badge instead of the medical one for a reason

[homunculus-argument]

This might seem like a wild take but I think dogs should be treated more like guns. A lot of people these days seem to have lost the awareness that a dog isn't only a pet, they're working animals with tasks and jobs. As much as you can say it of a living creature with thoughts and feelings, they are tools as much as companions.

The first thing you're taught about handling a gun is that every gun is loaded. Even if you literally just took the bullets out by your own hand 30 seconds ago, you'll still handle the gun like it's loaded. You don't point it at anything you don't intend to shoot. If some jackass you don't know randomly pointed a gun at your face and then went "lmao don't worry it's not even loaded", you wouldn't just be justified in slapping that thing out of their hand and then slapping them in the face for good measure, it'd be your downright duty.

The same way, every dog can bite. And let me preface this, I know dogs. My family has had dogs longer than I've been alive - pet dogs, work dogs, show dogs. I've had to pull apart two dogs that were fighting and I still have the scars on my arm ten years later to show for it. And the dog who instinctively sunk his teeth into me as I grabbed his collar was a sweetheart who could have been trusted to file your taxes if he had known how to read.

What people who are used to dogs don't always realise is that dogs can sense when someone is afraid of them. As domesticated as they are, dogs are still animals with instincts which turn this into a self-fulfilling prophecy - they're more likely to bite someone who clearly fears being bitten. Dogs don't ~sense evil~ but they do sense when their owners don't like someone, and mirror their attitude.

You don't point an unloaded gun at people just because you know it's unloaded, and you'd definitely not grab a random gun off a table and assume that's ok. In the same vein, I don't think people should let their dogs loose in populated areas not designated for that, and just assume that their dog is "safe" and that anyone who tells them not to is just a petty nitpicking meanie who clearly did something wrong if dogs don't like them.

[madness-manic-antics]

On the Track To Victory

Part 10: Nightmare

Fair warning, this one gets heavy and painful.

Cyllene stares up at the sky, expression cold and firm. The rift had reopened. It had reopened and begun spewing frenzy-inducing lightning in uncontrolled, erratic bursts.

"Rei." She tells the boy after considering the situation for a moment. "Go around town, tell anyone who has Pokemon to put them inside or in their balls until further notice. That's top priority, understood?"

Rei salutes. "Yes, ma'am. But, um…"

"Yes?" Cyllene stares him down, quirking one eyebrow. 

"What happens if a frenzied wild Pokemon gets in and the security corps can't use their own?"

Damn. "That's above your concern." She says, none of her panic showing on her face. "But I will ensure that is part of the ensuing discussions. Now go! The longer we wait the more Pokemon may get hit."

Rei nods and takes off. He's a good recruit, he'd gotten better over the time since Victoria's arrival, but he was not Victoria. Nowhere close to her level of skill.

Nobody here has her level of skill. And that's the problem.

Commander Kamado approaches her from the left. "Cyllene?" 

"We need to gather the security corps. They have to subdue the frenzied Pokemon before people get hurt."

"And how will they do that without using their own Pokemon!?"

"They'll have to think of something. Lure the violent ones inside where their own Pokemon can't get hit, perhaps, though that would do a lot of damage to our buildings..."

"Will balms work, do you think, Captain?" Laventon says, rushing to her side, panting. "I've been handing out Poke Balls to anyone who doesn't have one for their Pokemon. I'd say about fifteen Pokemon have been hit-- the ones that already had a Poke Ball refused to go inside them. There's three that are reacting… differently."

"Differently?" Cyllene demands as lightning strikes three feet to her back. She doesn't flinch. The others do. "Explain." She says curtly. There's no time for courtesy or politeness.

"A Chimecho who nests under Ida's eaves, one of Victoria's Sneasel that helps smash rocks in the field, and the Graveler that helps Radisa with her pickling aren't attacking anyone, they just seem to be in extreme pain." Laventon looks further distressed at the mere mention of the suffering happening.

Cyllene nods sharply. "Get them inside, too, and have someone from security keep an eye on them."

"What about calming down the others?"

"What would we make balms out of that could work on so many different Pokemon?" Kamado asks.

"I may have a solution."

Cyllene turns to find Floaro walking up with a huge basket of Jubilife Muffins. "I had the same idea as the Professor, and I made these as fast as I could. My good little Umbreon helped. We can make balms out of these-- they're a hit across the whole village!"

For the first time since the new rift opened, Cyllene feels relief. "Good thinking, Floaro." She tells him. "We might need more, but these will at least give the security corps something to try with."

"Professor, you start making balms. Floaro, gather whatever you need to make more muffins from the supply corps and get as many of them as you can find in on making them." Kamado commands. "We need to get a handle on this before it gets worse."

"We don't have Victoria to bail us out this time." Cyllene says grimly. "Is anyone dealing with her Pokemon in the pastures?"

"As soon as Marie called for them all to get back in their balls, every single one obeyed. I've never seen anything like it." Kamado says.

"We might just make it out of this alive, then." Cyllene murmurs. "I'm going to get my sword. In times like these, it's better to have the tool and not need it than to need it and have it hanging on the wall. Everyone has a task, get to it. Let's take care of this problem like professionals."

1234567890

'Time and space, space and time. They effortlessly orbit each other on every axis, and where they do touch it is small and brief.

Once upon a time, a girl walked beside a Spirit of Victory through the space of the land, and she found where space touched time and time touched space. There waited the Banished One, on the other side of a broken sky.

The ancient heroine had come far and traveled long to reach the edge of the world, where mountains split the sky like spears. The Banished One stood before her and demanded she turn back.

Instead, she took her knowledge of the world, her will to succeed, and all of the love and hope within her, and fashioned a crimson chain, with which she bound the universe together.'

"Reading old books isn't why we're here, Victoria." L̵̳͚̓̔̈̕͜͝u̸̦͗̄͛̽͜c̴͕͛a̸̟̿̏͐͠s̷̠̣̙͋ says, walking up. She glances up from the book. His face is shrouded in shadow, hidden from her by the brim of a red hat. The world around her seems to fade in and out of static, like a badly-tuned television. She feels no concern, no fear. Just a calm drowsiness across her mind.

"Maybe so. But these legends sure are interesting. I'll have to come back to C̸̢̙͍̍͗̈́͋͂͜ͅa̷̡̝̼͎̔͊n̷̋̈́̈̋��̘̠̰͈a̷͔̍͋̽ḽ̵̛̗̖̒͂̒͝ͅạ̸̓͛v̶̢̢̛̄̾̄̽̚ê̷͖̈́̑́͠ ̵̧̛̞̼̍̽̎̔͜ͅL̷͎̜̱͒i̴̢̗̾̈́b̷̦̃͑̆́̓ŗ̴͂̍̍a̴̻͇̿͑̄̾̓͌r̴͔͖̻͙̝̣̈́͌y̴̻͚̏̑́̇̒̕͜ after we figure out what to do about G̴̥͎̜̘͆̆͛̈́́̔͜a̷͓͔̭͉̲̋l̷̹̺̊̃͐̔̕̚ͅã̶͉̮̩̆́c̴̨̬̼̼̗̈́̍́́͝t̸͇̳̂̍̕ì̷̡͍̩̜̝̦c̶̡̭̞̀̒."

"The Professor is here now, and B--"

Victoria wakes up with a painful jolt. Well, she doesn't really wake up so much as come to, her whole body aching and her eyes already open. Her vision blurs in and out.

There's snow. So much snow. The frigid wind whips through her hair, nearly sending her bandana flying. She reaches up to hold it to her head and raises herself to a low crouch amongst the rough grass she'd been lying in.

She feels strange. She feels empty and cold, like only the wind is under her skin. The sky is a solid line of gray overcast, and there's nothing but snow with patches of grass and pillars of ice.

"Where… Am I?" She asks, and the words feel strange on her lips, as though she shouldn't be able to pronounce them.

Why?

Victoria does not see anything from her crouch, so she slowly rises to her feet, a bit unsteadily.

No trees. No Pokemon.

No mountains in the distance.

Nothing but this flat plane of ice and snow and grass.

She raises a foot to walk forward and feels a yank on her pantleg that unbalances her and sends her sprawling.

She closes her eyes for the impact on reflex, and when she opens them there's red everywhere, staining the snow and grass and there's a dark shape a dozen meters away, curled on the grass. 

Primal panic slams into Victoria like a truck and she gets to her feet, only to be pulled back down by that unseen force. No! She has to get to him, she has to save him, she can't-- help, she needs to get help!

The light from the stars twinkles over Lake Acuity, sending sparkles across the frozen water.

And all the ambiance is ruined by the sight of the blonde boy in the striped jacket, staining the snow a vivid red that haunts her.

"T-Tia…" The boy chokes out, reaching for her as though he can touch her from so far away. She tries to get up and simply can't but she has to, she has to get to him.

And then, Victoria comes into view, appearing beside him. This doppelganger is younger, bundled in a thick pink coat and woolen leggings, a white hat pulled down over her blonde hair to cover her ears. She kneels beside him, and Victoria can only watch.

"Barry…" The small girl whispers, but it's deafening to Victoria. Barry. His name. It was Barry. "Barry, what did she do to you?!"

He coughs, struggling to move, to try and raise his head. His clothes are torn. He's covered in slash marks, all over. 

"Night Slash… she set her Skuntank on me. Tia… it hurts…"

It feels like she's getting closer, but she still can't move.

"Stay still, Barry." Her younger self says with a shaky voice. "You'll make it worse with your inability to stay put for five seconds. I, I… I'll leave Whisper here to keep you warm, and I'll go get help. You'll be okay. I promise, you'll be okay."

Lies. 

"T-Tia… don't go… d-don't leave me--"

Victoria drags herself forward through the snow.

"I have to get you help." An Infernape bursts out of a Poke Ball, and the younger Victoria turns and runs.

"No!" Victoria shouts after her, panicking. "No! Don't leave him to die alone again, you idiot!"

"Tia…" Barry's voice is lost in the wind, and reality seems to twist in on itself leaving Victoria standing alone on a city street. Deathly empty and still, without even the wind blowing.

"I will make it all mine someday. Time and space… Space and time…."

She whirls to face where the words are coming from, but there is only the empty road.

"You fight with courage and passion, but those alone will not stop me from making a better world, a perfect world."

The voice is behind her. She whirls again, facing an empty room with stark tiled floor and harsh overhead lights. Still, no one is there.

"I chose you as my champion for a reason." A different voice echoes, and when she turns she's now in a cave with puddles scattered across the ground, water drip-drip-dripping from the ceiling. There is still no sign of the speaker. "When you feel, you feel with nothing less than your entire self. You do not feel happiness, you feel unbridled elation. You do not feel sadness, you feel crushing despair. And you do not feel anger. You feel hot, burning fury."

The world falls away, bit by bit at rapid speed until all that is left is Victoria, standing on a floating isle covered in red grass amid a purple sky. She walks forward, towards the edge, and a giant shadow rises from below, opening a massive maw, about to swallow her whole--

This time, when Victoria jerks awake, she falls into Emmet's arms almost immediately, small and vulnerable and actually awake this time.

Her head pounds.

"What was that?!" Elesa's voice shrieks from somewhere to her left.

"It was a Darkrai. They're banned on the Battle Subway. A mythical Pokemon that brings nightmares."

"Ingo punched it hard." Elesa says faintly, and Victoria gets enough of her wits about her to get a look at her surroundings.

A room, with a bed rather than a futon, that she had seemingly tumbled off of into Emmet's arms. There were pictures of Ingo and Emmet and Elesa on the walls-- lots of pictures of the twins as they grew. Also pictures of big… machines… that were vaguely familiar. The color scheme of the room was black and brown and white, and it was spotless. 

Ingo was standing beside the bed, looking furious. "Miss Victoria, are you alright?"

"Head feels… fuzzy." She admits as Emmet sets her back on the bed. "I had… a nightmare? Darkrai?"

"Yes, although what one was doing here I did not manage to find out. I was too busy getting it away from you. You were extremely distressed."

"What… happened? I feel like I was just walking with you guys."

Ingo scrambles up onto the bed. "The new rift began spitting out lightning and causing Pokemon to go into frenzies. You were hit, but did not become violent. Emmet quickly engaged emergency protocol and ran with us to our destination while Elesa stayed behind to conduct."

"There were frenzies?!"

"It appears that the storm was thankfully temporary, and from what Elesa said, she and several other authority figures managed to ensure the Pokemon were contained and calmed."

Victoria relaxes.

"I wish I could understand this conversation." Elesa grumps. 

"I'm sure Ingo is just catching Victoria up."

Ingo nods at his brother. "You fell unconscious shortly after we got here. Emmet put you in my bed and started reintroducing me to my partner Pokemon while you slept, until we heard you yowling and came in to find a Darkrai looming over you. I admit I may have lost my temper and my control-- I ran over and attacked it. It fled."

"Huh. Weird." Victoria shakes the cobwebs from her mind. "Barry."

"... Did you want a berry?" Ingo starts moving towards the satchel at the foot of the bed.

"No, Barry with an a. His name was Barry. He called me Tia… and he died alone in the snow." Victoria drops her head onto her paws, misery washing over her.

Ingo moves over to hold her. "It may have just been your nightmare--"

"No," She says hollowly. "I remember now. I wish I didn't."

Ingo has nothing to say to that.

[goosedawn]

//Oh gods, welp, here I go [cracks knuckles]

//Tiny farmer Techno Au,,,, prepare for some future lore cjkhcxk

Timestamps from: "I Became the Mayor of Skyblock" by Technoblade

--

(5:39) "I decided to call in an old rival..." - Technoblade

Techno continues on with his life for days on, but finally, he somehow finds his way to society again, seeing that the entire town has been taken over by a tyrant of a mayor. The townspeople called for aid, and from the depths of his cold heart, he decided to help (....what do you mean he only did it so people would buy his potatoes-).

For a bit, he did his work by himself, only getting help from some other living scarecrows (listen, I really like the idea of some scarecrows coming alive [cough] PHIL [cough]), TimeDeo and Jyn (...? Is that how you spell their name?). (Dunno what the process for taking over the mayor would be exactly but,,, chchskdlcx,,,)

But you can only do so much work with... living scarecrows. With a bit of reluctance, he calls for help from SquidKid. And then together they defeat Dante :]

(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)

--

(6:31) "Is there any way to do the teleport room without just like.. guessing?" - SquidKid

(6:36) "You are like... little baby, watch this." - Technoblade

-

Being tiny has its perks.

"Wait, what do you mean you can solve this maze in an hour or less?"

Techno turned towards the bigger hybrid, crossing his arms as he nonchalantly stared up at them. SquidKid only gives him a baffled look back, their tentacle-like hair slightly sprung up to further show their confusion.

He knows this only because he's known the man for far longer than they've known him.

He knows more personal information than should be shared, somehow finding the other farmer's parent's numbers along with a few other things. He had jokingly pocketed away the parent's number in the back of his mind, although, he had no real plans of ever using it. Well, maybe he had played with the idea of calling SquidKid's parents to dunk on the fact that a wild borrower had been winning their competition, but he ultimately decided not to for obvious reasons.

He knows the hybrid's schedule like the back of his hand, having to work around it for the better part of an entire year. Using that knowledge, he had sabotaged countless of SquidKid's tools, poking small, unnoticeable holes into their hoses and irrigation systems.

And he knows SquidKid's behavior from how they speak to how they express any sort of emotion. Lies were easily debunked from the small twitch of the corner of their mouth as they suppressed a smile, and anger was easily shown from how their strange hair pieces would spike up.

Yet, he can't help but feel slightly at unease in front of them. He supposes it's only natural, seeing that there's a huge height difference between them. Plus, this was practically the first time they've been closer than two fields of length in between them. Well, disregarding the times he's gone snooping around the bigger farmer's place, but that's neither here nor there.

"Squid, look at me," he raises his hand, gesturing towards himself, "I'm tiny, yes?" the squid hybrid nodded slowly, and he pointed at the stalks of tall fern and crop, "to you, this would basically be a wall you can't get through. For me, though...."

He jumped off his perch, tightly holding his trusty bag and sliding towards the flora before easily disappearing behind the thicket and appearing moments later at eye level, holding the stalk of the crops easily,

"It's easy to go through."

SquidKid makes a quiet 'oh' sound with another nod of their head, looking slightly in awe. The amazed look turns to one of confusion again, though, and he awaited their next question with a raised eyebrow, "but... the maze is big, how are you going to get through it all without tiring?"

Techno grinned, lifting a hand to his mouth and loudly whistling. He doesn't hesitate to slide back to the floor as a blur of white fur bounds towards him.

"Carl!" he exclaims, wrapping his hands around the rabbit's fluffy neck and combing through the fur with his fingers. He backs away to pull out a broken-off piece of a carrot, feeding it to the eager bunny before turning towards the astonished squid hybrid with a grin, "my noble steed," he waves a hand towards the still feeding rabbit.

"You tamed a rabbit," they dumbly point out, having to metaphorically pick up their jaw off of the floor.

"Yup, I did. you can stop gawking now," he huffed, "you're going to catch a bug with your mouth if you keep your mouth wide open."

"...And you named it Carl?"

"What kind of question is that?" he snorts, shaking his head, "yes, I named him Carl, and yes he's going to be the one helping me through the maze. Any other silly questions?"

The man stumbles over their words for a second, and he amusedly watches from below, "I- yeah, yeah, you bozo," they finally settle on saying.

"Alright, cool, I'm going to go find the exit now," he turns away from the hybrid, climbing on the back of the rabbit's back, "see you there."

He doesn't give SquidKid the chance to respond, already setting off through the thicket. And he sure doesn't suppress the grin that crawls up his face as Carl bounds past stalks and stalks of crops.

Having distracted SquidKid enough to get away, the bigger farmer had barely thought to ask how they themselves would traverse the maze.

They must have realized soon enough, though, since not seconds later, he hears a strangled yell of his name along with a loud groan.

--

Pain, it's been too long since I've written something /Lh

--

"(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)"

When the townspeople come to greet the new mayor, they come thinking that it's SquidKid who's done everything since it's always been SquidKid going into town and doing the talking- the scarecrows being unable to do so for obvious reasons, and Techno unable to do so without revealing his entire existence.

So when the sheepish farmer calmly explains that he's just a helper of the mayor, they're... rightfully confused. At first, they want to know the real identity of the mayor, but SquidKid wearily tries explaining that said mayor really doesn't want to be revealed. They only conceded when he shakily points to the unknown farmer's territory, most of them getting the message.

Techno is very thankful that SquidKid doesn't take his title and also doesn't reveal his existence.

-

"It would have been so easy for the squid hybrid to just pluck his tiny form from their back pocket and shove the wrathful spotlight onto him.

He wasn't even able to even escape now as he found himself stuck in the hybrid's pocket. The crowd had come quickly after SquidKid had removed the other mayor for him, and he remembered feeling panicked as he stared at the other hybrid. The next thing he knew, he was shoved into their pocket.

He couldn't get out without tumbling to the ground with a splat, and, even worse, the possibility of one of the townspeople pointing him out with gossip-drinking eyes was incredibly high too.

He shakily gulped, greedily taking the air around him as he tried to stay calm. He never liked being near anyone- not even the scarecrows - so the second-hand contact with his past rival was not the finest experience.

"I- uhm," the squid hybrid stumbled over their words, "t-the mayor really would rather not... have the entire town to greet them.."

The crowd hushedly mumbled to each other, and one straggler called out, "well, tell them to come out anyway!"

By the Blood God, he hated this. He shrunk to the bottom of the pocket. This was one of the worst worries for a borrower; he had already been pushing his limit with the scarecrows and SquidKid, but this was another level for him.

"...Uh, well, in that case," he felt SquidKid shift, and a hand brushed over his pocket. He tenses, waiting for the fingers to tug him out and waiting for SquidKid to finally prove that they're not as kind as they look, for them to finally get some semblance of petty revenge.

"You can find them over there." He pauses, confused to as why there's no hand reaching down for him. The words finally dawn on him, and he's both relieved and perplexed to what SquidKid could have meant by that.

But hatever they've done has made the crowd fall unnaturally silent, and so he's at least a little relieved for that too.

The same voice that was brave enough to speak before pipes up, "you mean the ghost farmer?"

....He didn't know that the townspeople had come up with a name for him, but he's suddenly thankful that he's gained enough popularity that people stop and gawk.

"Y...Yes," SquidKid slowly acknowledges the villager, "they were the one orchestrating all of this. I was just helping with the... talking parts," the hybrid is silent for a moment before they burst into a stammering mess,

"And- uh, I-I should take my leave now, b-because I should really h-head back and ch-check up on them," he feels the bigger farmer start to take a few steps back, supposedly away from the crowd, "I'll answer any questions later!"

He has to push against the fabric to keep himself from bouncing around in the pocket as SquidKid starts running. He faintly hears the townspeople shout for the male, but it's muffled through the fabric.

As it starts to seem as if the squid hybrid would never stop running, they finally start to slow down, their breaths coming out labored and airy.

He doesn't speak up for a moment, letting the other regain themselves first. When they finally seem well enough, he speaks up,

"That's the best you can come up with?"

--

chKFCHKDSJFSDF oh my Primes, this is so LONG,,,, I have no idea how to write SquidKid,,,, plus, I had no idea how to like,,, oOGHgds,f,, pain.

Anyways, hope you had fun reading ALL of this cchjxcvxkdsf,,,

AAUBHJDUHFJHBFNDKUFHN WENDYYY /POS

i dont have anything to add this is just fantastic,,,,, DEO AND JIYN AS SCARECROWS AS WELL,,, FBJHDKUHSJHHDV,,,,,, i love that techno gets to have Carl still 🥺🥺🥺 and him leaving squidkid on the other side of the maze??? FHJBDJNJKBF

ALSO 🥺 squid protecting techno and not telling people abt him,,,,, aaajfhkdojfh good,, i also appreciate that everyone in the village just has to be like. "the ghost farmer is mayor????... well this isnt the weirdest thing thats happened to me"

SQUIDKID RUNNING AWAY,,,, "ill answer any questions later" djhshhjhjhbhbfhdjhbe

*holds this gently* aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i adore

[extrathicccarlwheezer]

very much this. i’ve been seeing everyone in the fandom going crazy over the sequence and just, not understanding. it felt so hollow to me.

i think this stuff is the reason this sequence, and so much of the show, has fallen flat to me. filoni’s whole life has been star wars for 20ish years now; he’s lived and breathed not just star wars but WRITING star wars for longer than many fans have been alive. and as a results of that, he has a very strong picture of these characters in his head. this is a good thing for writers to have! but an unforseen consequence is that while he has a very strong picture of these characters in his head, it seems that he's forgetting to *fully* put that version of the characters into the text. there are allusions to ahsoka's issues with anakin, and we see many instances when this drama comes to the forefront, but it's never explained in the text what specifically those issues are.

additionally, if you want to get even close to a full picture of these characters, you need to watch TWELVE SEASONS OF ANIMATED KIDS SHOWS. which i have! i have a lot of love for TCW and especially Rebels. but A) that is a HUGE barrier to entry for many casual fans, and B) twelve seasons of television leaves a LOT of room for varied interpretation. this results in a large chunk of the audience not really having a strong understanding of who these characters are and what their motivations and issues are, and a smaller (but much louder) chunk who all have very similar (but slightly different) interpretations of the characters. and unfortunately, many of the second category think the first category are fake fans or just idiots for not getting it (not all of them but a loud enough minority that it's noticeable). the mega fans all have their own similar but slightly distinct version of the ahsoka's motivation and issues, and this show and ESPECIALLY this sequence was vague enough that it worked as a resolution to each of their own interpretation of the story, and therefore you see a lot of the fandom going wild. the casual fans though? this is a payoff that didn't have clear setup, a resolution without being shown what problem is being resolved.

i find myself somewhere in the middle. i enjoyed TCW, and i loved rebels with all my heart. but because of how my brain works and how i interact with media, i always focused on what was in the text, not interpreting and extrapolating into what i THINK the text implies. so while i know all the canon backstory, i don't have all a solid image of what is supposed to be resloved here. i've seen varied interpretation of what this sequence and much of ahsoka's arc all could mean, from ahsoka's PTSD from being a child soldier, to parental issues from anakin failing her, or seeing anakin as a brother who SHE failed to save. and all of these could work in the text, but none of them are explicitly the characterization we see in the shows.

this has resulted in a resolution that just falls flat, unless you've spent years building up your own version of these characters in your mind. and i'd argue most people in this hundred million dollar show's intended audience probably haven't even seen all the relevant backstory, let alone spent all that time interpreting and delving into who the characters are/could be.

so it should have been included in the text.

tbh i'd argue this show shouldn't be made as it is. either A) make it a longer show with more time to delve into and explore the character's backstory and motivations, so casual viewers are caught up and the show has a specific interpretation of story it's working to resolve, or B) make it another animated show, so it doesn't necessarily appeal to that wider audience and can instead focus just on the fanbase that's already invested (and doesn't cost hundreds of millions of dollars, which people will probably see as a failure/waste of money when many audiences struggle to connect with the story). personally i'd go with the second option, although i still think they should clarify in the text what the relevant issues/motivations are.

anyways this reply is kinda rambling, but i've had a lot of mixed thoughts on the show and wanted to put it into words, and the original post really helped me conceptualize all of it. if you've read this far, thanks lol. i have more i could say but i've gone on long enough as it is. i love star wars very deeply and it just sucks when stuff in star wars just isn't as well planned as it could be.

I have a problem with the Ahsoka series...

As someone who didn't watch Rebels and just getting back to Star Wars after being out of the fandom, episode 5 left me kinda flat...

WARNING: SPOILERS TO JEDI FALLEN ORDER AND AHSOKA EPISODE 5

Anyone who plays Jedi Fallen Order will immediately realize that the scene is a mirror of Cal and Jaro's 2nd vision duel. In fact, there were major Fallen Order vibes all throughout this episode and other episodes including all that psychometry (which Ahsoka has never demonstrated before this series but hey... the power of retcon compelled Dave Filoni).

But why did Ahsoka vs Anakin feel so flat for me? What should have been an emotional scene didn't hit me with the same feels that Fallen Order did.

And I got to thinking...

In Fallen Order, we first meet Cal and from the get-go we understand that this is a kid who's had to live on his own for a long time. He doesn't really think that much of himself--as evident by his "Trash, just not approved trash" comment. 

Fallen Order and Survivor have been brilliant, character-driven games that really delved into issues of trauma, survivor's guilt, PTSD, insecurity, and loss of self-worth. 

We learn that Cal survived Order 66 when he was just 13.

And that his master sacrificed his life to save him. And we soon realize that Cal has remained trapped--emotionally and psychologically--that day he escaped clutching his fallen master's lightsaber in fear and helplessness. The fear became a means to survive--a coping mechanism.

When Cal first meets a vision of his master, Jaro Tapal, it's on Dathomir. The vault is booby trapped to test anyone who dare enter. He's faced with a vision of his fallen master and is overwhelmed with his own failures and breaks his lightsaber.

Through Cere's urging and guidance, Cal travels to Ilum to retrieve his crystal and rebuild his lightsaber.

There, he is tested and he faces his failures and shortcomings. He learns to forgive himself and face the past head on. He returns to Dathomir and back to face his master. 

What was the lesson in Cal facing Jaro? The lesson was forgiving himself of what happened. Of learning to trust that 13-yr-old child within. Jaro's sacrifice will always be a part of him but he also needs to move forward with the lessons he's learned. As long as Cal is alive, he has a choice to keep fighting--"Hold the line, and trust only in the Force."

It's a classic heroes journey.

The Anakin vs Ahsoka scene is similar in a lot of ways. But I found myself not having the same reaction.

If I watch that Fallen Order scene, I'm always moved to tears because in the hours I spent playing as him, I lived all of his failures, his fears, his emotions--I was Cal Kestis. I was that 13-yr old boy who emotionally shut down to the point that he lost his connection to the Force.

Fallen Order took the time to establish that Cal had been dealing with the guilt of not doing enough to save his master for the last 5 years. It took the time to lay the groundwork so the emotional beats really hit you in the feels in moments when they should.

My problem with the Ahsoka series is it breaks a fundamental rule in storytelling--Don't assume anything about your audience. A good chunk of that audience never saw Rebels. So, a good chunk of us were asking ourselves, "huh, so what exactly was the lesson here?"

In Ahsoka, we're never shown what her attachments to Anakin are. Is she a Padawan feeling abandoned by her master? Does she feel betrayed? What exactly is that baggage that she needs to move on from?

We get none of that because the series doesn't do enough character work to make her struggles known to the audience beforehand. Unless you watched Rebels, you'd have no clue nor feel the significance of the scene. What we get is her looking forlorn at any mention of Anakin. They just expect us to understand that she has unfinished business with him. What that is... it's never clear in the dialogue. So when we have a vision of her facing her master, it doesn't have the same emotional punch in the feels that Fallen Order has (unless you saw the animated series).

So her lesson was to live? Did we see her struggling with her purpose before this scene? No. Did we see her doubt herself and her place in the Order (in or out of it)? No. Do we see her still yearn for the past and what would have been her place in the Order but struggle with their betrayal? No. The message is jumbled, the lesson is vague because the show didn't do the work it needed to to earn that emotional payoff.

The one thing I loved was the visuals. Cinematography in this episode was breathtaking but it sacrifices storytelling over fan service and nostalgia.

Collider put it bluntly, "Ahsoka’s “training” stands in the place of actual storytelling. By driving Ahsoka and Anakin straight into a duel, we’re robbed of dialogue and character moments that could heighten the story that Filoni is attempting to tell. Filoni mistakenly believes that what audiences have been longing for is another poorly lit lightsaber duel — only this time between Anakin and Ahsoka — but that isn’t what anyone has been pining for. Especially not casual fans who know who Anakin is, but have no concept of why this duel with Ahsoka should matter to them... Star Wars is more than just lightsaber duels and resurrecting the Skywalkers for drama. It’s about the connections forged between the characters who are thrown into situations, cast against the backdrop of a galaxy at war, both seen and unseen. Those connections feel hollow when left to molder in the shadow of nostalgia."

Jedi Fallen Order and Survivor work from a storytelling perspective because they made us care about these characters. They built connections to Cere, to Jaro, to BD-1 and the rest of the Mantis crew and how they play a significant part in Cal's growth as a person and Jedi. And likewise, how Cal plays a part in each character's journey to self-actualization.

The more I think about the episode 5 scene the more pointless it felt (for lack of a better word) because this happens 5 years after Return of the Jedi... the part where Anakin was saved by Luke. She's also met and spoken to Luke so would know that Anakin was saved in the end. 

So unless this is just Ahsoka sorting out her own issues of abandonment or whatever inside her head... it doesn't make sense for Anakin or the overall story. He was already saved. He went back to the light side after defeating Palpatine. Luke was able to do what no one else did. Or did she resent that or hate herself that it wasn't her that brought him back to the light? The problem is the show doesn't make it clear what her attachments to Anakin are. If it had spared a few episodes looking back at her training, Anakin's betrayal and her feelings of abandonment, it would have felt like a more full circle moment. If the show had taken the time to portray her going about her life without reason or purpose, the lesson would have meant something. The dialogue doesn't do the visuals justice. It's purposely vague and cryptic because the show doesn't know what Ahsoka ought to be struggling with. She has baggage but what that is they don't even know. So the visuals try to cover for the lack of any compelling dialogue.

We didn't need a duel or callbacks to Vader or Rebels. What we needed was to see was the same Anakin at the end of Return of the Jedi-- the same Anakin that was saved and made whole. We needed a conversation, not cryptic lessons--a conversation about why he lost himself, Luke and Leia's place in his life and salvation, and a reassurance to Ahsoka that she couldn't have prevented his fall from grace because he made the choice to fall to the Dark Side. Anakin alone made the choice and paid for his sins. That conversation would have brought more closure than "I choose to live."

It felt like the writers went "This would be such a cool scene to have" and "What would happen to get there?" Rather than have everything matter and happen organically to the overall story. By doing that, Ahsoka suffers the same problems as the sequels.

Fan service should serve as a purpose to further enrich your story. And your story should be clear to everyone not just a niche of your audience. A good story, no matter how simple it is, should stand on its own merit. Good character work and set up matters.

Just my 2 cents.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

[gabrielitas]

phew it's good to know i'm boy the only one super behind lmao

alright answering questions and asking some more because i have a funny little group of questions that mean nothing but i like to ask

alright so i do bias soonyoung 🙄🙄 didn't think you'd guess so early. i also like seokmin and minghao 🥴🤤 aLSO, WHY HAS SEUNGCHEOL BEEN LOOKING SO CUTE RECENTLY I CANT HANDLE 😩😩

outside of kpop i may or may not have had an emo phase (read: fall out boy, panic!at the disco, my chemical romance). i may or may not still listen emo music. i also LOVE CONAN GRAYYY. idk if he's still indie but i love indie too! probably one of my favorite genres though is classical (instrumental if you wanna get technical 🙄 been yelled at bc cLaSsiCaL iS a TiMe PeRiOd)

the best of us had emo phases ☝️ mine is a little longer lasting three years in middle school. due to this, fall out boy is one of my favorite artists! i’m also a big tchaikovsky fan, and i like doja cat a lot too!

in response to your question about 1518 strasbourg, this is when and where the dancing plague of 1518 happened dnsbsbshja. it's where the phrase "dance till you die" originated lmao. i think it'd be funny to witness this/take part in it. aside from that, id probably fuck with california in 1849 because the gold rush🧎‍♀️, france in the 1880s, or america in the 1980/1990s! i’m a history nerd courtesy of my father, so i choose all my time periods based off some of my favorite historical events! 1880s for architecture mostly, gold rush because lawlessness and the "wild west", and the 80s for the cold war :)

the night is beautiful if you take the time to live it. for me, my favorite time across the board is lunch time-12:00 ish to 3:00 just because the sun is highest and i feel happiest! i like the night when i go out on bike rides because i feel alive/ like i’m not wasting my teen years

GIRL IM NORTHEAST US TOO DJNSBSBSVABWB #goals lmao

i have 1 sister and she's super annoying🙄 i also have 2 cats and a dog (i consider them my siblings)

the most recent show i binged and finished was criminal minds, and i tried supernatural but it's just so bad i cant get past season 11. i’m working on hannibal right now!

the last book i really enjoyed was the summer i turned pretty! i’m a sucker for romance books 😩

questions i've got:

- do you have any siblings or pets?

- do you play any instruments?

- what's your favorite font?

- how many pillows and stuffed animals do you sleep with? (i have too many to count)

- would you rather live in an urban, suburban, or rural setting?

I FRIKIN KNEW U BIASED SOONYOUNG UR VIBES R SO HORANGHE I COULD JUST TELL and i gotta say ur the second person who’s had both minghao and soonyoung on ur bias list and i just find that so funny cuz they’re polar opposites to me (also u have impeccable taste with minghao that boy is my ult and has my whole heart) AND OMG RIGHT??? seungcheol needs to *CHILL*😤

omg yes conan gray😫 this is gonna sound whiny but heather was one of my favorite songs of his before it became a tiktok trend💅

and yes the best of us *did* have emo phases, mine lasted from late 8th grade into the first half of freshman year, so it was kinda short lived but it still happened lol

also, seeing tchaikovsky and doja cat next to each other in a sentence is so funny (but in a weird way i get it lol) i’m not the *biggest* classical/instrumental fan, but i have def used it as study music when songs with lyrics r just too distracting. back to doja tho!! have u listened to her new album?? do u have a fav song off of it? (i haven’t listened to all of it but i do have a couple that i rlly like)

omg how did i not recognize that u were talking abt the dancing plague!!!!!🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ idk if u watch buzzfeed unsolved or watcher but they have a series called puppet history and the episode on the dancing plague is one of my favorites! also omg yes another history nerd who knows abt history b/c of her dad!!!! i’m prob most knowledgeable abt wwii, the civil rights movement in the us, and the spanish civil war cuz those r my dads main interests and i was sat down in front of documentaries abt those topics at the age of like, 3 lol. and wanting to experience the wild west is such a perfect and iconic era to want to live in, and wanting to experience the cold war is so funny (b/c i’m sure the ppl who were living it without knowing the ending like us felt the exact opposite lol)

and yes the night is so beautiful when u just give it ur attention. like, on my birthday it was raining and i didn’t have school the next day (and my birthdays i’m may so it was pretty warm) so i just went outside at like, midnight ish and listened to the rain and crocheted and it was truly so nice 😫 also omg last year when covid had us all at home i went for a bike ride almost every day after school to just get out of my room and it was so nice!! it was my bike from when i was like, 12 but i’m 4’11 so i was still able to ride it without a problem lsnsksns

and yes pets r absolutely siblings, my cat prob acts more like s typical sibling than my two younger siblings do lsnsksns (srsly tho my cat is an asshole she fucked up my leg the other day cuz i gave her food late smh)

omg hun season 11?? how many seasons of that goddamn show r there??? i couldn’t get past episode 1😭 (i rlly only started watching it b/c of dean from gilmore girls sksnksns) the show i’m currently bingeing rn tho is downton abbey, as i’m sure u can tell from how much downton shit u had to scroll past to find my answer to ur last ask alskkskjsjs (i’m so so sorry 😭)

ooo that sounds like a rlly good book title, what was it abt? i just finished a secret history (which FUCKED ME UP MY GOD THERES A LOT OF MURDER) and i’m currently working on the sequel to my name is asher lev by chaim potok (who is one of my fav jewish/classic literature authors and also just a rlly good author in general)

for ur questions:

-yes i do have siblings! two younger (one four and a half years younger and one a little over nine years younger than me so i’m the oldest by quite a bit lol) and i do have a pet! my cat sweetie who is an asshole who i love very much

-i took piano for like a year in second grade but then third grade happened and i was rlly bad at math so my parents switched from paying for piano lessons to paying for math tutoring lessons and i now remember literally nothing from piano lessons sksnksns

-i,,, dont think i have a favorite font? i do like to write in cursive and have a collection of calligraphy pens that i bust out on special occasions so there’s that i guess lol

-ok i have two normal pillows, one chair/armrest/pillow thing (idk if that makes sense but that’s the only way i know how to describe it sksnksns), a body pillow, and a single stuffed bear that live on my bed

-ooo so this is difficult for me cuz i technically live in a suburb but we’re *right next* to a major city in my state (like i’m a 20ish min car ride from my states baseball stadium and a 20 min walk to the college of the major city) so this has kinda made me rlly like both? like, i like the quiet of the suburbs but i cant handle not being able to walk to the closest boba shop or movie theatre or bookshop but i also don’t rlly love the noise and lights that there are in the city at night. so idk sksnksns

what do u like more tho? the city or the suburbs? also since u asked the question i’m assuming u have a fav form and i’m now rlly interested in finding out what it is lol

goodnight!❤️ (or good morning if ur seeing this in the morning since i’m answering this at midnight lol)

[dovabunny]

Part 16 - Perspective

"Why did you need to change units?"

"Ah the usual. Caught my captain selling intel. He had the shit beat outta me and promised to kill me if I told. I knew the only way I could survive was disappearing, or hiding behind someone untouchable."

"Like Ghost."

"No, like the 141. Everyone knew you. Respected you for your bravery, unparalleled skill, and untouchable record. Your names were said with either awe - Price's leadership, Ghost's deadliness and intimidating figure, Gaz's spy skills and watchful eye, and you being a wizard with explosives and infiltration." Roach goes a little quiet and throws the last bit of the tequila back. "But that 141 is no more. I should never have even dreamed that I could replace you." His tone suddenly stone cold sober.

"They chose you, I was told to leave. That's the bottom line."

"I only found out about that after I signed on. Ghost didn't want to talk about it and Price just said you were transferred. When I learned you didn't want to go j knew they fucked up big time. I told them that one night. Price benched me for two weeks for insubordination."

Soap scoffs, suddenly irritated. "Stop complaining. At least you're still there."

Roach smiles like he has a juicy secret. "Did you know Ghost kept every single thing you left in your room?"

That took him by surprise. "I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. Journals, these little boxes full of torn pages and photos, clothes, weapons. He has that fancy dagger of yours on him at all times in his vest. He nearly broke my hand when I offered to clean the old blood on it. Dunno where the blood could from, he never uses it."

A memory of Soap slamming his bloody dagger into the table next to the 'candidates' files passes through his mind.

Roach continues, not properly mellow drunk. "Which is extra strange because you wrote them off. He took it pretty hard when Price told us. But I think it helped that you were happy at least. I was glad you were happy."

Soap frowns. "Listen, I'm sure you mean well, but-"

"No, please," Roach interrupts, pleading. "I know you might think I'm just some asshole who stole your life-"

"I do."

"Ouchies. - but can you please, please hear me out for second. There's something I've been trying to find a way to say. Please, Captain."

Soap looked deeply uninterested, but Roach was banking on Soap's patience and big heart that Simon talked about.

"Fine."

"Thank you. Now, disclosure: I may know more than you think I might. Like that you and Si had been together for a year, and how cruel he was after the breakup."

Soap grit his teeth. "Get to the point. These aren't exactly topics I want to revisit."

"I just want to tell you his side, because I know he didn't or more likely couldn't. No one alive has known him longer than me. We enlisted together, I knew him before and after Roba. And I've never seen him like this."

Soap listens.

"I want you to understand that keeping you a secret was his way of protecting you. He carries his family's murders on his shoulders every day. That's why he doesn't talk about me to others either. He feels if he can hide you, he can protect you. You follow?"

Soap gives a small nod.

"I didn't exaggerate when I told you about his broken emotional 'skills' - for lack of a better word - his father gave him. In his fucked up instinct, strong feelings meant danger. So when he felt abandoned by you, when your anger and hurt towards him showed - he lashed out. The stronger the emotion, the harder the spikes in his shell come out. When his family was slaughtered he went on a murderous rampage to hunt down and kill everyone involved in their death and his torture. He was unhinged, no one could get close to him. Not even me."

Roach looked down, tugging at his drying briefs. He hated revisiting these memories himself. "When I finally found him, he was... Heartless. Like a wild live wire. Price channeled that rage into his work, I gave him the mask. He didn't get better - he was just distracted."

He looks up and gives Soap a little smile. "Till you came along. He always bragged about how bright you were, how kind and open. He admired you're bravery in standing up for yourself, even against Price, and loved the bad jokes you swapped to help you both pull through bordem and bad missions. How you make him want to be better."

Roach smiles and his eyes are a little misty. "Do you even know that after you left, even though you were happy somewhere else and hated us, he got your name tattooed on him? Or that he almost died because he refused to use your dagger even when he's out of bullets and knives?"

Soap narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but Roach wanted him to know it's true. This was important. "Don't believe me? Check his vest, you'll find it. Look on his chest, right over his fucking heart is inked 'for Johnny'. But more importantly," Roach teared up and sat forward, putting both hands on Soap's shoulders. "He's seeing a therapist. Asked to see one. You still make him want to be better."

Soap stared. He was speechless.

Roach wasn't. (He really was 'chatty' like Soap thought when they first crossed paths)

"I'm so fucking bummed that I never got to be your friend. You're so cool and pretty and funny and talented. And you're a captain who chooses to work alone! So baller. But I'm glad you're happy."

It's quiet for a beat. There's no trace of insincerity in Roach's words.

"I wasn't happy." Soap admits. The man spilled so much, only fair he gives some honesty too. "I wanted to die. Almost did. Price lied to you, or he was lied to."

"...what." Roach was so shocked he stopped breathing for a beat. "WHAT!?" He yelled.

So what Ghost said was true. Huh.

"I didn't transfer here. Ale and Rudy found me and refused to let me go. Being kicked out destroyed me."

Roach tries to jump to his feet but cries out in pain and falls back down.

"You idiot, sit still!"

"NEVER MIND THAT - does Ghost know!?"

"He does now. Told him earlier."

"Oh fuck. He's gonna kill Price."

Soap carefully studies Roach. He's Ghost's best friend, a chatterbox, and drunk. He has no reason to lie.

"What would Ghost have done? If he knew."

"Find you! And God have mercy on anyone who stands in his way for he shall have NONE to spare!"

Soap is quiet. He isn't sure what to make of all this. It's... These are things he fought very hard to put behind him, all ripped out of the depths of his bruised, fragile heart and rearranged.

"Soap," Roach says softly. "You don't have to forgive him."

"Then why tell me?"

"He's a brother to me. I've been watching from the sidelines as he became happier than he or I ever thought possible, fuck it up, realize he fucked it up, and it DEVASTING him like not even the death of his family did. And he loves you. I know he does. Probably always will. Simon doesn't do half measures."

"I'll consider what you said."

"Thank you. That's all I ask."

"Now sleep. And pray Ghost won't strangle you for over sharing his business like that."

Roach settled back into the chair with a grin. "Oh I have a feeling he'll forgive me."

Roach was out in a heartbeat but Soap was wide awake.

He had been so convinced he meant nothing to Ghost, that he used and discarded him. Convinced Ghost just didn't care.

Hearing all this, it was like watching the same puzzle pieces build two different pictures.

He still didn't know what he wanted. They were his home, his family. He loved them and they replaced him. But... Maybe there was another side to the story. He doubts he could ever forgive Price or Gaz - his former father figure and best friend.

But Ghost...

Ghost kept his things, carries around his beloved dagger, has his name permanently branded into his skin.

He is seeing a therapist, trying to be better, trying to override emotional and cognitive patterns that have been set and enforced his whole life.

For him. For his Johnny.

In a dark, cold little corner of his very being, amongst the wreckage and destruction of his former self and torn pieces of his heart that just wouldn't fit back together...

...a little flame sparks to life.

Soap watches it, knowing he should stomp it out.

He doesn't.

GhostSoap AU - Replaced

Cw: angst

They'd been a (secret) thing for almost a year now. Soap was smitten, but respected Ghost's boundaries to keep it private.

But over all these months, Ghost never said he loved him too. He never makes future plans with Soap either.

He keeps turning down invites to go on leave together or meet his family,l. When they're out on missions will always elect share a room with Price over him.

Soap starts to feel like less of a secret lover and more like... Ghost's dirty little secret.

Like he's just being used.

(Read rest below)

It all blows up one night.

The gang had been at a local bar. Some flooze had apparently been making eyes at Ghost and Gaz noticed. Thinking he's being a good friend and wingman, he introduced the two.

Soap had to sit and watch Ghost talk to her at the bar for 20minutes.

Everytime she touched his arm or bought him a drink he wanted to rip her off him.

But what hurt more was that Ghost didn't immediately turn her down, instead entertaining her attention for a drink or two. He didn't tell Gaz he wasn't interested.

Soap was just a spectator.

"So? Get her number?" Gaz eagerly asked when Ghost returned.

"Nah. Not my type. Too chatty."

Gaz rolled his eyes. "Picky bitch. She was pretty. And if you're not into chatty why do you keep him around?" He playfully winked at Soap.

It was a joke. Didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Not when Ghost didn't even reply.

Soap announced he's leaving early. Ghost followed and caught up to him. The cold air did nothing to ease the burning hurt.

"You coming over to mine tonight, Johnny? I doubt they'll be back till after midnight."

Soap grit his teeth and kept walking. "Dunno. Maybe you should go ask your redhead slag."

Ghost glared, voice cold. "That's uncalled for, Johnny. She was just being friendly."

"Friendly, huh? Too bad she's chatty. Apparently that's huge turn off for you."

Ghost grabbed his arm and stopped him. His eyes and tone incredulous. "That's what this hissy fit is about? You're jealous and touchy over that comment? I thought you'd be happy I didn't take her number."

"I would've been happy if you didn't entertain her flirting at all!"

Ghost's eyes turned hard. "And what gives you the right to dictate who I talk to?"

Soap stared for a moment. It hurt. It fucking hurts but he needed to know.

"What am I to you, Simon?"

Ghost was quiet.

"A fling? A partner? A lover? A fucking sex toy? What am I to you!?"

Months of insecurities were bubbling up. The alcohol that loosened his tongue didn't help either as he yelled.

"Don't raise your voice to me, Sargent. I'm still your commanding officer." Ghost said in a tone reserved for intimidating interrogations and reckless recruits.

"...that's it? You're my CO and I'm your Sargent? That's- that's all it is for you?" Soap hated how his voice trembled.

"I didn't make any promises, Soap." (Soap. Not Johnny.) "You have no right to make demands of what I may and may not do, and I won't be chained down!"

"I don't want to chain you down! I just wa-"

"Sounds like you do. Bloody hell, if you didn't want to fuck anymore - fine. There's no need for the tears and the drama, Sargent."

It was only then that Soap realized he was crying.

Ghost cursed and kept walking without him.

Soap feels like he's been punched in the chest, a gaping void left where his heart and lungs should be.

Apparently all the secret kisses Ghost stole, how he held his hand when no one was looking, the way he held him when they were alone were all just what? Drama? In his head?

Soap spends the night sobbing his heart out off base in an empty parking lot with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

By morning he told himself there's no use crying over spilled milk.

But it wasn't that simple. For either of them. It was the start of the end.