#and just because it ticks wrong boxes doesn't mean it's bad

[manikas-whims]

hi lovely, first of all i wanna wish u a good day and i hope everything is going good!

i was cooking in the background but got to a block here, and i would like to know ur opinion on this:

lets say sylus (pre - relationship) somehow messes up bad with reader, to the point they distance themselves from onychinus. how do you think he would react and make up? I feel like he would observe from afar and then go ahead try to talk to them, but i have no clue what he would say, whats ur perspective?

tysm for ur work and im so proud to see u grow as a writer ❤️ byebye lovely!

Hiii! I've been wanting to respond to this for so long.. I'm just so tired by the time I'm home these days 😭

And I'm glad you think I've grown a little as a writer 🥺 means so much to me ♡ so sorry it took so long..🙏

As for the ask itself..

If Pre-relationship Sylus messes up,

then you'll definitely distance yourself from him and Onychinus itself because you still don't know him that well. He did abduct you from the auction and held you in captivity in his base. So of course it's quite difficult for you to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And Sylus seems to be the kind of person who doesn't easily takes offense to people judging him based on his line of work. But he'll definitely get mad because you aren't just some random person to him. He'll be disappointed because all it took was one mistake for you to judge him so harshly? Instead of treating him like every other person and giving him a chance?! He'd think you're just like the rest of the people who form an assumption of him based on his appearance itself. To think, he even bothered making an effort..

Thus, there's no communication between the two of you for at least 2–3 days..Not even Mephisto cawing and poking his cute, lil mechanical beak at your window 😞

And this leads to you getting even more angry at Sylus cause LOOK AT THE AUDACITY OF THIS MAN!!! He made a mistake and now doesn't even bother explaining himself!? Doesn't even try to fix this mess!? Yeah..you should've known..he truly is like every other person from N109. It's your fault for being foolish enough to believe he might have any humanity behind those glowing crimson eyes.

But after the passage of those 2–3 days, you finally begin to sort through your thoughts and feelings.

You also start seeing some familiar faces around your apartment. Luke and Keiran do drop a bunch of packages full of clothes, accessories and other luxurious items you could barely afford on your Hunter's paycheck. Nevertheless you reject them all, and even yell at them. “Tell your stupid Boss he can't simply buy my forgiveness!”

There are moments when you just consider forgetting everything and make up but you resist the urge because that would only encourage him. He'll think he can get away with anything if you're so lenient. And so you suffer his absence for the entire week, slowly coming to believe that you weren't important to him at all..

But Sylus is a mature guy despite whatever his reputation suggests. He'll be mad for a while and put off but he'll come to terms with the fact that he made a mistake. And now after giving you ample amount of time and space to sort through your own feelings, he'll finally decide to randomly show up one day at your door, completely shocking you when you answer the door.

Before you can yell at him or push him to leave, he mumbles in a gruff tone. “I’m sorry.”

To say that you are shocked would be an understatement for it's not everyday that the dreaded leader of Onichynus utters an apology to someone. Men like him are used to making people bend their knees and grovel. Used to exacting apologies out of others instead.

You blink several times before asking. “What did you just say? I didn't quite catch it.”

His brow narrows and he scrunches his nose in that way he does whenever met with an obstacle. Sighing, he repeats his words. “I said I'm sorry..for what I did. For giving you a wrong impression and ticking off all the boxes of suspicions in your head. For showing you something that I'm not.” He pockets his hands– a sure sign of awkwardness– and cocks his head to the side. “And I vow to make it up to you.”

Out of nowhere, Mephisto comes flying, perches upon his shoulder and croaks loudly in support of his master.

You try your best to hide the smile threatening to burst upon your face. You'd forgiven him on his first apology itself because one glance at him made you realize how much you'd actually been missing him and his stupidly handsome face.

Still, in an effort to tease him a little, you tilt your head and say. “Hmm..I'll consider forgiving you if you repeat your words once more. On your knees.”

There is a brief pause in which you almost believe he will do it. His expression seems as if he is actually considering it. Then, he scoffs at you and flicks your forehead.

“Don't push your luck, sweetie.”

And you laugh in delight, punching his abdomen lightly. “Fine fine, let's start again.”

You smile and offer him a hand. He looks at it, his crimson eyes roving up to gaze at you, then he accepts your hand, and shakes it. “As you say, sweetie.”

hope you liked this lil piece ♡

» MASTERLIST «

[spotlightlowlife]

Unpopular opinion, at this point, Blitzø is an issue.

Not because he's in the wrong, his situations suck more than him, so do some of those around him (*cough*Stolas *cough*Loona), he sucks because he's becoming more and more of an outlet for writers to play out power and sex fantasies with whilst being edgy and always quick enough to have a remark ready for others, always managing to be the centre of attention but will always be the victim too.

In every conceivable way, he's being wronged or he's punching up.

The arrangementship with Stolas is a case of him being a victim but for those who don't see it this way, Stolas x Blitzø is a chance at happiness, pauper being picked, even though their union was and will always be an inappropriate power imbalance which has now been the case since childhood, back where Blitzø was a victim of his dad, yet a few years later he somehow developed feelings for his friend who seemed like a sibling to him, but he seemed to envy him too? Either way we are too root for his unrequited 'love lost' that we can blame on a fire accidentally caused by none other than Blitzø, but we can also push blame others for this accident too.

Fizz and Barbie may be victims of his recklessness, but he means/meant no harm and he had it just as bad as them, hence the 'sorry but..' he offered Fizz.

Substance abuse got to be something Blitzø endulged in before we met Barbie who we had already been informed is an addict, Blitzø got to be both a boss and a victim during his binge which had even the sin of gluttony beat and concerned, yet when we meet Barbie, she is composed, working and has some success in being able to freely travel, having a human disguise and being able to easily manipulate others, which could have all been good, a change of tone from yet another downtrodden character and a change from a sloppy addict that may have expected, only, we had to be told Barbie was in rehab and recently so, we had to be informed that Blitzø looks out for her and is worried even though we never had never saw him track her progress previously. We meet her, there's nothing to indicate that they have spoken since Blitzø's fall out with Fizz, Barbie is pretty much work a similar job to her brother of causing destruction on Earth, yet morals come into play for just one of them? Neurotic, antisocial and traumatised, comes to earth as an assassin, excellent, no content yet and seems well put together but we have been told is an addict, comes to earth the deal, scum.

Barbie made Blitzø sad by not listening to him and washing her hands of him (again, when did they last speak? Has there been nearly 20 years of the same conversation?), which yet again has us pouring sympathy into him.

Then there's the clearly hurt and robbed Verosika, who's upset is totally glossed over because 'she's so iconic'.

The power dynamics are entirely power play, because there are too many characters supposedly of much higher standing who Blitzø easily rubs shoulders with, stands out to and crosses to no consequence, all for no particular reason, the dismissal of what he says and does is reminiscent of a movie where a ghost doesn't know they're dead or a character doesn't realise their friend is imaginary. All excluding Stolas of course but this but this is where the power play sex fantasy is.

Why are they together? Answer, Blitzø's desperation to have his business work, the whole plot to the show.

Like Hazbin, the pilot started out rather strong, it ticked every box mentioned in one episode, they were a wicked bunch but morally grey, the trip to hospital being a prime example, we met humans, we saw Earth, Stolas was a intimidating and regal, Blitzø was reckless with money and decision making, the advert on a low rating station being the prime example, along with blind nepotism.

How is it that this series hasn't had the time to return to its roots since half way through season one?

When does Blitzø get a break from all this trauma dumping and actually get to have other things going on in his life?

Realistically, someone who works has work to talk about, it is a major part of their life. Someone who runs a business tends to put in more hours than your average worker. Work gives you something to talk about, creates new experiences and problems to solve, has you mixing with other and takes up a lot of your time. Where is any of this?

Until it returns to the plot where he is a business owner actually running his business, having interactions with customers and victims, travelling to Earth more regularly, facing actual threats from those who don't care about how sad he is and are actually bothered by his obnoxious ways, I have a questions.

Where are the common teething issues business tend to have, like budget, landlords, tax, inflation, lack of exposure?

How do they pay their day to day expenses, especially since they have so much time on their hands?

Why aren't they out advertising?

How do I.M.P catch the eye of those who just died and how do these sinners pay?

When was the last time we saw a sinner?

Blitzø's direction gives the impression that he's being written for the chronically online people who wish this was them, that they were more feisty, outgoing and desirable whilst others just got them and felt their misery, something that can easily be done as a viewer, throw in the tried and tested powerful and dangerous royalty that worked so well for Twilight and 50 Shades and we have a character who can be vicariously lived through, basically the classic fairytale default damsel who people also want to criticize. It's like he's being reduced to an clownish caricature, looks the vibrant and animated character we were introduced to but that's all just in paper now, he barely stands out in any recent episodes because his presence wasn't nessessary and when he was relevant, it's for his ship or drama from his past.

While waiting to see him with his coworkers who he voyers on because he's sad and lonely, his rude and violent adult adopted daughter, or learn about the trauma surrounding his mother, or whatever is going on with his user dad, or when we will next see his troubled sister who is mad at him, his bitter ex, his best friend/ex friend/rival/friend who lives the life he should be living who he sexually harasses since reconciliation, or his transactionship, or whatever else is pushed on him and there no doubt will be more. What about his present? What about his daily life outside the misery forever sent his way for us?

He should be encountering strangers and a massive variety of situations he can't entirely control on the regular, having to draw upon his smarts, experiences and group dynamic to get out of binds or be efficient, his trauma, sadness and his sass could be a force of good.

How much of his likability is nostalgia, maybe from outside of show? Outside of the pity and sex jokes, what is being done with him?

This may all be harsh and funny enough I actually like this character, but never have I known a series where the solution to making a main character more deep was is a simple case of

'Let them get on with it!

Let them do their job!

Stick to the story!'

Well I do know one other case...

[conkers-thecosy]

Hullo to my fellow fandom creators.

How you guys doing? Good? Good.

I just wanted to drop you a little note to say I hope you’re all having fun out here. Because fun is what it’s all about, right? Fun and excitement and hobbies and interests and all that good stuff!

While I’ve been wandering about in my little corner here at tumblr dot com, I gotta tell you, it can be so easy to get discouraged sometimes. Like SO easy. And I dunno folks, I guess I just wanted to remind you (and me!) that when we create stuff for our fandoms, it’s for fun! Because we love it! Because we love making it! We love sharing it! We love the source material and the characters and the world-building and all that other neat stuff!

Sometimes we all need a little reminder, I find. Because sometimes people don’t like what we’re making. Sometimes they’ll be rude or complain and make demands about how fandom "cOnTeNt” (yuck) should be made (double yuck) and act kind of entitled about it. And idk, that gets kind of disheartening. Especially when you’re pouring all your heart and soul into what you’re making, simply for the love of it.

So! Yeah I just wanted to check in with you folks because I’m seeing a lot of that weird entitlement in various fandoms lately, and from one creator to another, I wanted to just say -if I may wax poetic for a moment here- nuts to those people. Nuts to ‘em. NUTS, I TELL YOU.

Not everyone is going to like the stuff you make, and that's okay. The important thing is to remember that their opinions have nothing to do with you or me or anyone else making art or fics or edits or whatever our little hearts desire. Just because what you're making doesn't tick someone else's personal boxes doesn't mean that what you're making is wrong or bad!

If people want specific stuff in fandom, they can make it. If they don’t like what we’re making, they can move on - that's fine. If they want to publicly whine about it and try to make it everyone else's problem, that's their baggage and we don't have to take any of that on board. It’s no reflection on you if someone wants to demand that their own specific tastes be met, rather than actually taking part in the community in a positive way. Because we’re here for fun, aren’t we.

Are you having fun? Good. That’s all that matters.

Go make something cool and fun, and have a great day!

Love you!

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

Im gonna be honest i think we need to understand how oswald's and fanny's relationship REALLY was, because its clear that they both describe it with still personal very very strong feelings and they do run head first into that Unreliable narrator territory often enough to make me belive theres something big missing a invisible elephant in the room if you will

Fanny says oswald betrayed her

While oswald says she was extremly toxic and wants her away (yet he still pulled all that shit at the dance like bro she was litellary just having fun at an even that you just so happened to be at Then you walked up to her asked her for a dance and acted like she was the devil and started accusing her)

And while both these things could be true in sense we need to know HOW, how was fanny toxic? How did oswald betray her? We have a silloute of a picture but not the frame or the pieces

Also I do seriously wonder how was fanny toxic to oswald? It all was very very long ago and while fanny's personality could be mirroring her now but She didnt have all the experience she has now she had to be diffrent from how she's now

(Also I truly belive oswald definitley fucked up in some way too and we don't know it yet like she had multiple boyfriends but oswald stucks out and not only that but even the thought of him angers her, it could be because if we look at the timeline he could be her first boyfriend or alternativley her ticked out of bad home life like you said but I do think there has to be more to it especialy since again we don't know that much about how he was all that time ago...but we do know fanny likes to ignore neon red flags)

Sorry for the long ask oh my i didnt mean to write it so long I hope you don't mind my mid analisis in your ask box but you did say you wanna talk more about fanny so

ヾ (‘∀ `*)

Honestly I don't mind people hitting my askbox up with analyses or their own takes on certain parts of IM I live for this and I WOULD like to interact with the Inky Mystery fandom more on tumblr cause most of the time I'm hanging out with everyone on discord, but it's nice to talk on here too lol

I'm gonna guess you're asking for my opinion on this?

I don't know if I would describe them as both being unreliable narrators, because from my knowledge Oswald has never divulged to anyone about his relationship with Fanny so we don't really know what his whole perspective on the matter actually is. We don't know if he thinks he was innocent throughout the relationship or if he acknowledges that they were both toxic and bad for each other. What we know is that Oswald was the one who dumped Fanny not the other way around and that means something to me at least.

Fanny on the other hand...I would definitely call her an unreliable narrator when this is how she's describing the breakup:

If you were to only hear from Fanny's side of things you could be convinced that Oz was having an affair with Ortensia on the side during his relationship with Fanny. But this isn't the case, and there's nothing from Fanny's side to provide evidence that this was the case. Not to mention that she's implying that Ortensia seduced Oz into breaking up with her so she could replace her. Calling her an unreliable narrator here doesn't even cut it she's just outright lying about two people who haven't really done her wrong.

But this isn't the first time either. In another chapter she makes a bunch of accusations against Oswald again.

Accusations, that again, are not proven to be true. We got Oswald's perspective during the Far Far West arc and anything pertaining to Fanny never came up. He never talked to anyone about it. He never talked to Cuphead about it. Hell, he didn't even talk to Cuphead at the group date either.

We've only had Oswald make one real accusation against Fanny from when they were together and it was in response to an accusation that Fanny made about him. We have no idea whether Oz is telling the truth or not, but I also have no reason to see why he'd lie. I don't think Fanny is lying to cover up anything, I think she's so bitter about the break up it doesn't occur to her that Oz breaking up with her wasn't to spite her or anything. Yes it hurt and it sucks the way her life turned out after the break, but that's not Oz's fault. He's not responsible for that.

All in all, I think it's good to have an open mind about their relationship, but we also have to look at the facts and the facts show that it's not on equal ground. One person is spreading rumors or fabrications and the other hasn't said a word about the situation to anyone.

Hell, even at the group date situation, Oz approached Fanny to call her out on her behavior but he could have just as easily gone straight to Cuphead and warned him about Fanny and her past. Oswald keeps what happened between them to himself and those he knows best. Fanny has openly talked shit about both Ortensia and Ozzy in front of other people casually without consideration for privacy.

The whole thing regarding why Oswald angers her so much whenever she thinks about him. I have ideas, and I feel like I'm right on the money but I want to wait and see before making a big meta post about their relationship. M shared something juicy on the discord and I am very excited when we get to see it!!!

Also THANK YOU for the ask!! This was nice I'm glad I got to gush about these two some more because I often don't lol

[sonobeunitsarecool]

Milgram LINE stickers - Amane

arma bianca LINE stickers

...mood whiplash. I have three slides (I'm just doing this in google slides) for the stickers from The Purge March, because the flags have text on them. Plus the little * things will be in two bits, because some of the words used in the songs are... kind of funny in their childishness?

* In Japan, it's common for a circle (O) to mean the same as a tick mark in English. It just means "correct", and the X is the same thing for both languages. What Amane is doing is holding her arms up to make an O, to show that she is correct in her answer (kind of like a gameshow, and she is the host). In the second image her arms are still in the O, but her answer was wrong, so the X is on the little stand in front of her, as well as behind her (like she's in a gameshow, but as a contestant). The one that I've captioned as "No, bad girl!" has めっだよ on it, which is kind of like... when you go, "hey!" to a kid or a pet that's doing something wrong. It's a warning/reprimand. Amane is either treating herself like a small child, or like a pet that needs training. "It is indeed" is... kind of a poor translation. The text is ですよ, with です used as "it is". So, at the end of sentences like "I'm happy", "It's a box", that kind of thing. よ sort of... is like "y'know". A better translation here would be "(and ---), is that!".

* It's captioned as "'Tis ordained", because that's what the English subtitles say when it's said. However I am not entirely sure what it means here, probably something along the lines of listing, or saying that these are the "first" things you should consider? “Doubtlessly, clearly, absolutely, unequivocally, beyond any doubt, GUILTY” is just... "(absolutely 5x) unforgivable" in Japanese. I think the subtitles give the right feeling, and also I just think it's more interesting that way. Imagine if it was "very, very, very, very, very GUILTY". That's no fun! The flags... Pink: 人は運命を生きよ/"Thou shall follow thine destiny" More directly: One should live their destiny Blue: 人は卑きを捨てよ/"Thou shall discard vulgarity" More directly: One should renounce what is despicable Yellow: 信じたものに納めよ/"Thou shall deliver unto those thou believest in" More directly: Give back to those you believe in Green: 道を外れずに果てよ/"Thou shall follow thine course, then perish" More directly: Do not stray from your path, and make it to the end Yeah, it's not exactly such "old-timey" words, in the Japanese, but they all still read as "commandments", of a sort. Same kind of thing... but maybe a little less ominous...?

Wow that's a lot. One more! (has nothing to do with the stickers) In The Purge March, the part where Amane goes, "You're sorry? I don't care!" is 謝ったって、べーだ！ in Japanese. The first part is the same, but べーだ！ doesn't quite mean "I don't care" in Japanese. It's the sound made when pulling down your eyelid and poking out your tongue, a childish and mocking act. It's kind of like putting your hands near your face, wiggling your fingers, and blowing a raspberry. ...I guess that means "I don't care!", but the whole thing is just so childish and petty. I love it. Amane is so very "I'm not a kid! (at least when you're watching me)", but also "Doubtlessly, clearly, absolutely, unequivocally, beyond any doubt, PETTY" and I love her for it.

[ghostaholics]

ᴇɴᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇs

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Warning(s): age-gap (reader probably in mid 20s or so); angst A/N: Because I'm too lazy to write a full fic so here's literally a short piece of what I'm sure would've been something if I had the motivation

JOEL ALWAYS SAID THIS ABOUT YOU – born young enough to grow up in a world that had nothing to offer; you didn’t watch it decay like he did where it used to be half-decent and you could find your place in life before everything went to shit – had grown into something inhospitable and terrible and bitter to the core. No, to you, it was just rotten from the very beginning: broken dreams and scattered ashes littering the filthy ground, a bunch of "what-ifs" and "maybes" and no room for shades of gray when it came to seeing things in black and white because the darkness won out and snuffed out the rest of all that was light and good as the sickness descended like the goddamn Rapture; it wasn’t just the infected that remained – the only people left navigating the wreckage were those with cruel hearts and nasty intentions.

"Well, it's not all that awful," you say, murmuring into the opening of your thermos as you stare fixedly at the last the last few remnants of stew at the bottom. "You're here. I guess that sorta makes up for it."

His figure is hunched over the fire he recently smothered. Even though his back is facing you, the tension in his body is apparent. Rigid – the same way he stiffens up when danger's nearby. "Don't say that kinda stuff." (And it sounds just as serious as “Stay behind me,” or “Run,” whenever hell’s at your both of your guys' heels.)

But you keep on rambling anyways – Pandora's box cracked wide open like a gaping maw that spills secrets, ones that should have never been let out – won’t fucking shut up about it even if you can help it now. And maybe it's not fair to put this kind of burden on him; maybe it's selfish of you to tell him, no matter how wrong it is, but each day could be your last and getting this off your chest might mean one less stupid problem to worry about. It's not like he doesn't know. Not after what happened back in Colorado, anyways. That had made it clear as day if it wasn't already obvious before. "After everything we've been through, I bet you still think of me as that same kid that got under your skin when we first met," you say absentmindedly. It doesn't come out in an accusatory tone, just an observation.

The stress leaches into his voice, washing over every word. Joel's on guard. Walls up. He shakes his head slowly, like a warning. "You've got no idea what you're talking about."

You lean back, transferring your weight into your wrists. "So I'm not right, then?" you ask it innocently enough.

He's moving around, double-checking that all the gear's in place. Of course, he's avoiding any eye contact. "We've got to head out in ten. Now's not the time for this kind of conversation."

"Almost a thousand miles left. All we really have is time. Look, Joel whatever you've got to say, I can handle it. You don't need to spare my feelings.”

He’s fidgeting with his watch as if the strap’s suddenly too tight – a habit he doesn't indulge in often, but one that you've noticed once in a blue moon. Maybe he developed it because of you. Always so sure of himself, but you're the one person who's managed to upend everything. "Get your —"

" —guns are in my pack," you finish for him. It's routine at this point. He's predictable. You know what to expect. "Is it because—"

He cuts you off too. "It's a bad idea." There's a finality to his voice.

So he's thought about this before.

"We've had worse ones."

“People like you don’t end up with people like me,” he says. "Shouldn't."

And you’re taken aback because out of everything that you expected it most certainly wasn’t that.

The ticking of a secondhand, booming – can’t be his watch because that’s been shattered for years – off-rhythm, way too fast; it’s your heart thrashing violently behind the cage of your chest. You reach for him, fingers curling around his wrist. Your thumb meets his pulse point and you feel the constellation of tiny scars across the expanse of his weathered skin. He’s warm. Alive. “That’s not — Joel, c’mon, you don’t seriously believe that—”

His eyes flickers down to where the two of you are joined before dragging back up to meet your gaze. "I’m not infected like the rest of ‘em, but this disease turns men into monsters, corrupts them until they're the most twisted versions of themselves. I've done things that I'll never be able to come back from, and when we’re done here, you’re better off finding something else.”

As if you could ever. That's next to impossible. "I've seen all of the ugliest and messiest parts of you and it doesn't change a single thing. I still want you just as bad."

[acourtofsnakes]

The Absence Of Sound - Freefall, Chapter 3 || The Bad Batch x Jedi!Reader

Summary: The Batch catch a lead of where you might be, but is it too good to be true? And a certain angsty clone realises he doesn't have a heart of ice after all.

Warnings: nicknamed reader (Ghost), sleazy guy who cant say no, unwanted touch (a hand on the neck), swearing, canon weapons, The Boys being hot, Reader being a badass, arguing, tension of the spicy kind, mention of slight panic

A/N: The chapters in this series are split into sections, Before and After. The before chapters are set during the Clone Wars, before TBB, with a slight AU. Just a little heads up in advance for chapter 4... You have been warned. 🥲

Words: 5.8k+

Tags: @arctrooper69

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Now

“Well, I gotta say boys, I’ve seen scum in the depths of prisons look happier than you.” Cid strolled into the parlour, dropping a box of credits on the table, payment for their latest mission. 

None of them answered her, barely even acknowledged her, or the credits. As it had been for the past four months, the table was covered in maps, scraps of information, datapads old and new, bounty pucks, everything. Any hint of information, any part of anything that could be relevant. 

For four months now, in every spare second they had, The Bad Batch were searching. Hunting. 

Seeking out their lost companion, their fallen partner. 

You were more than just a member of their tight-knit, rag-tag collection. 

You were a part of them. 

And they couldn’t leave another behind, not again. 

“There seems to have been a lot of activity across these three systems,” Tech flicked through the information on his data pad, the holo in the middle of the table reflecting the same data, “Activity that would not be explained by our usual kind of enemies. Unexplained attacks at any given point of time, surges of energy that people cannot explain, sightings of someone that no-one can quite remember.” He adjusted his goggles, rolling his shoulders a little.

Echo was poring over a collection of bounty pucks, brow furrowed in concentration, “Would she have been that obvious though? I mean, we know her. We know how she operates, how she thinks… She’s our Ghost, if she’s in hiding, why is she letting herself be seen?” The answer already hung there in his words, but it felt like a curse to bring it to light, to snuff out a possibility before it even had the chance to be real.

“Because she knows we’re looking for her. She’s ready to be found. She’s telling us where she is so we can go and rip apart whoever is keeping her.” Wrecker growled a little, thumping on fist into the plan of the other hand, his grey eye smouldering.

“Hunter? What do you think?” Tech turned his attention to his brother, his sergeant, the one he looked up to. 

Hunter was staring at the scattered research across the table, rubbing his fingertips along his jaw over and over again, those senses of his telling him something, telling him this wasn’t right. He shook his head, “No…” It was a soft murmur, before he realised Tech had spoken to him, “No. Something about this isn’t right.”

Tech looked down at the data, ticking it over, “If we leave now, we will be at Moraband in less than two rotations. I can get us through jump points that limit the amount of time we waste. We can go to the planet and inspect for ourselves, what is going on.” 

Wrecker’s head followed the conversation, turning to each brother in turn before he rose from his seat, rolling his neck, “I say we do it. If she’s there, we find her. If not, we bust some heads until someone tells us where she is.” 

Hunter sighed heavily through his nose, skin prickling again but he nodded once, “Get everything you need, we leave in ten.” He just couldn’t shake the feeling that they were wrong about his.

Before

You had to hand it to yourself - you’d managed to make something out of the mess your life might have handed up being. 

That’s not to say your time in the Jedi Temple was unpleasant or unhappy, it wasn’t. They were some of the happiest memories you ever had, learning how to harness the Force and wield the legendary weapons you’d always dreamed of touching. 

Of course, you did come to the Temple under more devastating circumstances. An attack on your home planet when you were young caused chaos and destruction, turning your once peaceful surroundings into that of fire and blood. 

You vividly remember the moment it all happened, the moment the world turned in on its head and your parents ran with you through the wreckage of the town square, trying to make sure you didn’t look too closely at the scarlet staining the pretty cobblestones like oil.  

Running, running, running. 

Endless running until another explosion rocked the very ground beneath you, throwing you off your feet and ripping you away from your parents. Something pushed into you when you tried to stand, some kind of invisible, weightless energy that kept you down, hidden, seconds before a wave of those awful creatures tore through the plaza, gunning down everything in their path. 

There was so much dust, so much smoke. 

So much screaming and pain. 

When it cleared, the silence was terrifying, like all the life had been sucked out of the world… because it had. 

Your parents had drawn the attention of the monsters so they wouldn’t find you, clutching each other's hands in the growing pool of blood painting the floor. 

Such agony and rage and confusion, all shooting through your body, grief, helplessness - a whirling torment growing wilder and wilder, like the churning sky of a storm before it snapped and that same energy had burst out of you. 

It blew everything away in a ten-foot radius, leaving you in the centre, sobbing and clawing at the ruins of your home world. 

That was how the Jedi had found you when they came to help survivors. Sitting in the centre of a storm, near passed out from exhaustion and grief.

They took you back to the Temple, running a few tests on your Midichlorian count, and to see if you were okay. 

And everything went from there. 

You became part of Anakin Skywalker’s little unit, becoming best friends with his Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, and causing just as much mischief for General Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

The four of you were inseparable, working together in a beautiful, coalescent unit, and you even became close with Anakin’s Clone unit, the 501st, led by Captain Rex. 

Ah, how you adored Rex. His easy way of looking at the world, the endless calm that flowed out of him like water whenever you reached out with the Force. 

He commanded his men more like brothers, worked side-by-side with Anakin as though they shared the same blood too. 

Not to mention, he always had a soft spot for you and Ahsoka, and he was one of the first people to notice that you processed the world differently, after Ani mentioned it. 

Perhaps it was this difference that he saw, this unsettled, frantic energy thrumming consistently through your blood that made Rex suggest something. 

That something happened to be by way of a unit of five, Clone Force 99. 

The Bad Batch. 

A group of ‘defective’ clones born and bred for their differences and altered skills, who were efficient and always successful, even if their methods looked like one of Anakin’s mission plans. 

They owned the fact that they didn’t fit it, accepting their differences and turning them into their strengths and pride. 

Rex begged for help on the mission on Anaxes, considering you were the only one who believed his theories about Echo without hesitation.  

And it was there that you slotted in like the sixth puzzle piece. 

The boys were fascinated by you, and you were in turn fascinated by them. 

You weren’t as uptight as other Jedi Commanders they’d met. You felt things and expressed them in ways they’d never seen before. 

You laughed brightly, teasing them with a mouth that could have shocked some of the General’s they’d seen. 

You fought like a whirlwind, your grace and skill honed until you became a blur of light on the battlefield, leaving the Batch staring after you with wide eyes and parted lips. 

They witnessed your anger at the state of Echo, your friend, watched you tear through the enemy with your sabers flashing like bolts of lightning, your fury threatening to rumble the skies. 

Hunter marvelled at your efficiency, something they’d seen only in the brief time they’d known Anakin, but there you were, burning as fiercely as he did yet eyes skipped over you when it mattered. 

A storm, he called you. Always feeling and thinking so intensely, crackling with life yet no one knew when you were going to explode into light next.  

It was after that mission, when you were watching Echo choose to stay with the boys that you realised how right things felt with them, how you didn’t have to mask the fact that you saw the world through an altered lens. You didn’t have to master the emotions that sometimes bubbled over with no warning and dragged you through the undertow. 

Rex must have seen it too, must already have known and spoken to Hunter, because he took you aside and suggested that you stay right where you are, with them. With people who you burn brightly with and not be dimmed. 

And although you missed your friends, missed this family that had held you back from the precipice of oblivion… 

This felt right. 

This felt like home. 

They felt like home. 

The sounds of the cantina were a pleasant hum in the background, dulling your senses and providing a sort of blanket to dissociate into. 

It was another successful mission under your belts, another tally to add to your repertoires. 

The Marauder was being refuelled, so Hunter suggested you all do the same - considering Wrecker had again eaten through everyone’s ration packs… Again.

All the boys were seated at a table, relaxing after the mission but still with that keen alertness. 

It was your round of drinks, and you’d slipped through the crowd to the bar, ordering from the droid and just listening to the hum of everything around you. 

You watched the droid potter around preparing your drinks, toying with your credits on the bartop, flipping them in and out of your fingers absently, just to offset a bit of that lingering energy leftover from escaping possibly another near death experience.

Really, it was like being back with Anakin and the others, there was a remarkable similarity with plans having to be changed right at the almost moment for some reason or another.

The thought brought a faint smile to your lips, how you’d gotten a similar family yet one completely different, one that you fit snugly into and wouldn’t change for the world. 

“Now, there’s a smile I could get used to seeing.” An unfamiliar voice broke your haze, your sensitivity alerting you too late that someone was next to you, bordering on too close. 

Clearly, you’d disassociated harder than you meant to, since you were usually so aware of your surroundings and space, hating it when people you didn’t trust came too close.

Exhaling softly through your nose, you turned your head to the side, examining the male that had bothered you. 

He was human, older by the looks of his greying stubble and the flecks through his hair which was swept back with careless abandon but clearly styled as an attempt to look rumpled. 

He had pale green eyes which lingered on you with too much curiosity, too much weight that didn’t sit well on your skin. 

“Ah, well. Unfortunately for you, this will be the first and only time you get to see it.” You turned to face the droid again, senses now in complete focus but you put off reading his signature yet, not wanting to know what lived in his head before you gave him the chance to walk away. 

The man frowned a little, letting his head fall to one side against his shoulder, elbow resting on the bar with his chest open to you - a cliche sign of dominance if ever you saw it. “Aw, cmon now don’t be like that, I’m just playing.” He ducked his head further, that ridiculous smile on his lips that reminded you of a slimy beast.  

Patience. Calm. That’s what we’re practising right now. 

“I’m only going to say this one more time, and I’ll make it super clear for you.” You didn’t even look at him, instead nodding thanks to the droid as your drinks were placed in front of you, “You will not be leaving this place with me hanging off your arm like another trophy to add to your collection. You’ll be leaving on your own, okay?” 

The man visibly bristled from the corner of your eye, rising up to his full height and he sidled even closer, so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath, the stale sweat clinging to his clothes as they brushed your armour, “Is it because of those boys you’re runnin’ with? Those clones?” He scoffed, looking over at your boys and then back at you, “You realise they’re expendable, right? They’re all the same. You’re never gonna get anythin’ different. Whereas with me,” he actually gestured to himself, “You’ll have somethin’ you’ll never forget.” Then, as if he had bantha dung for brains, he rested his hand on the back of your neck. 

Every muscle in your body wanted to jump and rip his hand off you, to snarl in his face and laugh when he realised what he’d done.

But such anger isn’t the Jedi way, is it, Ghost? We shouldn’t be giving into such feelings of darkness. 

You rolled your eyes internally at yourself and then gazed at your unwanted friend with a stare that Ani and Rex used to say made Hoth look like the sands of Tatooine, “Are you really that dim, or are you just planning on losing a hand tonight?”

Your boys would make a meal out of him. 

Come to think of it, you’d make a meal out of him whilst they watched.

His hand flexed on the back of your neck, making your skin crawl, your stomach roil and you visibly saw the cogs turning over in his mind, trying to work out how to play this at an angle that you supposed would have you falling to your knees for him. 

The feeling of your skin crawling was suddenly soothed, senses pinging and alerting you to a familiar presence. A deadly one. 

The feel of howling winds and low burning fury, the cold crackle of something waiting to be unleashed. 

“I suggest you remove your hand from the Commander’s neck. She isn’t known for her patience.” The cool, liquid rasp of Crosshair emerged from thin air, arm extended and unwavering as he almost delicately pushed the muzzle of his blaster into the cheek of your ‘admirer’.

Despite the position he now found himself in, this guy still seemed determined to stick to his stupidity, “You think I’m afraid of a little girl? What are you, her bodyguard?”

Your body was suddenly washed over by the crackle of fires, of strength as hard as durasteel, the creeping awareness of another type of predator in your midst. And beneath that? A fierce protectiveness and loyalty. 

Hunter prowled over from the table, pausing just a few feet away. He was all broad shoulders and glinting eyes, one hand occupied with the casual flip of his knife, “You’re not all that smart, are you?” He moved between you and the older man, weight settled in one hip.

Said man in question scoffed again, hands held up in surrender as the tangy taste of fear began to spill at the edges of your senses, “Like I said, you think I’m afraid of you? You’re just some kinda jumped experiment, hard to be afraid of something with no life.”

Crosshair laughed softly, the velvet hum of a knife on steel, “I can’t wait to see how this ends.”  

His amber eyes flicked over to you, silently checking you were okay, that no harm had come to you. He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it. 

Hunter had that predator's gaze locked firmly on the man’s, pinning him with that smokey stare, just daring him to move, “Oh, we’re not the ones you should be afraid of.” He jerked his head backward, motioning to where you sat behind him at the bar still, head resting on your fist now, “It’s her you need to watch out for.” 

A smirk crossed your lips as Hunter mimicked exactly what you’d thought earlier, and you merely shrugged at the man with no attempt at disagreeing, sipping your drink as you watched the scene play out in front of you, “He’s not wrong there.” You slipped the edge of your cloak back, revealing just a small percentage of the glittering weapons strapped to your body, not to mention the sabers hanging at your hips. 

The man paled, his cheeks hollowing and skin turning sallow, “You - you’re a Jedi.” He opened his mouth, swallowed. Swallowed again. Then he licked his lips, a bead of sweat tracking down his temple, “I didn’t realise.” 

You were still for a moment, then slowly swivelled your chair round before hopping lightly to the floor, stalking toward him on footsteps that were silent, even though the bar was now quiet, bated, “So, you only would have stopped if you knew I was a Jedi?” You reached Hunter’s shoulder and he moved back a pace, allowing you in front of him without a single hesitation, “You're saying if I weren’t a Jedi, you wouldn’t have cared if I said no?” 

Crosshair hummed, pushing the muzzle of the blazer deeper into the flesh of the man’s cheek, cocking his head, “I’d be careful. You’re digging yourself into a hole you most certainly won’t be climbing out of now.”

He sputtered, opened his mouth, closed it again, trembling head to know now as he met that stormy, ice cold look, “I- I didn’t - I wouldn’t-“ He broke off with a noise, casting a glance around for someone to help him. 

But no one would. The other patrons of the bar had clocked you all as soon as you’d walked in, the painted armour of the boys and yourself, Wrecker’s size, Crosshair’s predatory sweep of the room, the sabers dangling at your hips, as well as every other weapon on your body. 

They wouldn’t help this man, not now. 

You smiled at him, a smile that was all fangs and fury, the silence of the bar allowing that smoky, dark voice to be heard within you, “You, you, what?” You laughed, hand barely twitching and Hunter’s knife slipped free from his vambrace into your waiting fingers. 

Hunter didn’t even flinch, merely rolling his shoulders and allowing a smirk to cross his features when you took his knife. It was a move practised dozens of times now.

The blade glinted in the dim light as you traced the tip along the man’s jaw, “You might be thinking because I’m a Jedi, I’ll be lenient on you.” Your eyes tracked the movement of the blade before flicking to meet his, “If I could be bothered to show you, you’d see the colour blade I carry and why you’d be better off with an actual Jedi.” 

He barely breathed as you nicked the edge of his lip with the blade, probably praying to every single thing he could think of right now. 

You heaved a sigh, a soft pout, “As it stands, I just came from a particularly difficult mission and I don’t really have the energy to waste on bottom-level scum like you.” A careless shrug, “Shame really.” You dropped your hand, still holding eye contact as Hunter extended his arm, allowing you to slip the knife back into the vambrace. 

The man sagged in relief, but only a few centimetres considering Crosshair’s blaster was still jammed into the side of his face. Then he snickered softly under his breath, “Knew it. All show. Just a pretty face tha’ keeps their beds warm.” 

Your foot paused before it hit the ground, body held with perfect poise and stillness, “Cross?” The tone of your voice was so light, you could have been asking for the weather.

There was the barest whistle through the air, a solid thump of knuckles impacting flesh and then a body hitting the floor heavily. 

A soft smile graced your lips now as the three of you walked back to your seats, “I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat.” 

Wrecker’s crow of delight filled the space, sparking conversation again as if the previous moment had never happened, and as if one of the patrons wasn’t being dragged outside spitting out teeth.

Now

He became aware of the footsteps trailing him fifteen minutes ago. Whoever it was must have thought they were doing a good job, or they didn’t realise exactly who it was they were following - as if the sleek grey armour wasn’t enough.

Still, he allowed it, if only to feed the curiosity tickling the back of his mind, the thrill that he hadn’t experienced in a while. If he was being trailed by an attacker, he’d have them incapacitated and on the ground before they could even blink… But maybe he would allow them a small chance first, just for entertainment. 

Just to feel something else other than the hounding desolation and anger constantly assaulting his mind.

And that itching, nagging feeling at his skin that had shaken him from his bed, the atmosphere in the room too tight, too charged. It was pressing on his skin, reminding him of not so long ago of the way the air would feel when you were wound up, on the verge of cracking.

Three more blocks, the wall of the fallen soldiers, his brothers, coming up before him and then the uneven thump of those feet was starting to grate on his already shredded nerves, igniting the cold temper he had always been known for. He slowed under the pretence of examining the names carved into the wall, each one clanging hollowly in his skull. 

One breath, then another, then - 

He swung round, blaster aimed, arm unwavering at the hooded figure lingering behind him who raised their hands quickly, “I suggest you think of a reason for following me very quickly. I would hate to have to ruin these floor-stones with the inside of your head.” The tone of voice didn’t even change, if anything he just came across bored. Empty. 

The figure shook their head, the hood shimmering with the movement but still keeping the face in shadow, “Forgive me, sir!! I wasn’t sure when best to approach you, my employer - they said not to give this information to anyone else, but also to approach with caution as-”

He flicked the toothpick from his lips with a near silent agitated grunt, ”Spit it out, my hand is starting to get tired.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, but his grip was unwavering. He had spent hours upon hours with a target in sight, hand curled around his weapon with his finger resting on the trigger, a trigger which needed only the barest touch from him before his enemy was on the ground. Hours spent willing his body into complete stillness, ready to burst into action at a moment’s notice.

A faint whimper, a half step back, “There is a storm coming.”

Everything in him turned to stone, the ice that usually encased his heart now sending splinters through his chest.

He hadn’t heard those words ever. Not once.

He didn’t even speak, simply sheathed his weapon, the memories threatening to break free of their confinement in his head. He turned away from the messenger, not caring who sent him or why.

There was nothing inside him but a raging, snarling, howling beast, clawing at its cage.

Desperate to be free, to hurt, to protect. 

And then, Crosshair ran.

As his feet pounded on the ground, he was battered with another memory, another flash of the past where you had been so alive, so vibrant, burning through the galaxy as you should do.

Every moment, both awake and asleep, he was given memories of you, even now, even when he could feel that your life was at stake, hanging in the balance. 

He wouldn’t know peace until you were okay.

~

Then

“What’s your problem, Crosshair?”, Your voice echoed sharply around the clearing, the sunset bouncing off the hull of the Marauder, the pounding music of 79’s a soft hum in the background. 

What was supposed to be a relaxing evening off after a mission had quickly turned south, leaving you and Crosshair hissing at each other in the club until the barman asked you to take it outside. 

Gladly. 

Crosshair was leaning against it, long legs crossed over each other at the ankles as he cleaned his rifle, “Problem? Oh, I’m not the one with the problem, Shade.” His words were all poison honey, dripping and lethal. He didn’t look at you, gaze focused on his task, a toothpick in the corner of his mouth as usual. 

Shade. That nickname only he called you, ever. 

You scoffed, pausing in front of him and crossing your arms, “No? Then what was that little comment about back there, huh?” Your gaze was all crackling electricity this time, ready to spit and spark, “What was it again? Oh, yes.” You held your fingers up to make air-quotes, “I’ll just run along to the next person that tells me I’m not bad?” 

He barely glanced at you, a careless thing that he knew just riled you up even more, “Is it not true?” 

That damn unruffled drawl, it made you want to shake him. Or strangle him. 

Maybe you would. 

“No. It isn’t true. You know I am very aware of what lives inside me, I don’t need anyone to validate that. No one.” The bones of your knuckles ached with how tightly you gripped your arms, if only to stop yourself from throttling him. 

How dare he? 

Now he finally looked up, spitting out his toothpick, “No? Then why do you go running to Hunter every time you need validation that you’re good?” He spat the word out like it offended him, pushing off from the ship and taking a step forward, towering over you. 

You refused to back down, meeting his glare with one of your own, even as you tipped your head back to look up at him, “You think I need validation that I’m good?” Stars, you were so angry. It pulsed through your body, making your heart rage and your blood heat inexplicably. 

Crosshair smirked, tilting his head, amber eyes fixed on you, reading every little expression on your face that he knew so well. “I know you do, Shade. What did you did today - that is who you are. I watched you tear through those traitors without a second's hesitation, without thought.” That liquid velvet if his voice was oh so tempting, drawing you in, wrapping you in his arms and coaxing you toward the truth. 

An ache was radiating out from your jaw where you clenched it so tightly, feeling that smokey darkness prick its head at Crosshair’s words, “Enough.”

He wasn’t finished. He stepped even closer, fully blotting out your vision, your senses with that velvet voice, “You were unstoppable. Ferocious. That is who you should be. Not bound by the rules of the Jedi you no longer follow. You should be using everything you have, everything you are.” The rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was just as affected as you, “You have a beast inside you, Shade. Just like me. I’ve seen it. Time and time again. On the battle in Anaxes, when you tore through the people keeping Echo. Every mission after, I see that beast try to come out, but you deny it. Deny who you are.” With every word, his tone got snider, more sullen, more like a bite than a word. 

“I said enough!!” You growled at him, pushing your hands hard against his chest plate with a pulse of the Force, your own breathing heavier now as that beast in question shone through your eyes, seeing the world for what it was before you quelled it, stuffing it back down. “I’m not you, Crosshair.” 

You couldn’t. 

You couldn’t give in and let people get hurt again, no matter how good it felt, no matter how strong you felt. 

“No. You’re not. Because I wouldn’t have lied to myself over and over, I’d have accepted the truth.” Crosshair watched your internal struggle, watched you deny that half of your soul and he scoffed, shaking his head and stalking off to the steps of the Marauder, shoulders tense and agitation rippling off of him, “Typical. Why don’t you run along to Hunter? I’m sure he’ll pat your head and tell you it’s okay.” You’d never heard such viciousness in his tone. He knew where and how to cut you deep. 

Fury choked you for a second, along with something else, something seductive and intense and you chased after him, “The truth?! You talk of the truth, but what about you, Crosshair?!” You were right on his heels, the quiet of the ship enveloping you even as your combined emotions flooded the space. 

The walls, the chairs, everything rattled as a wave of force energy slipped from your control, butting up against him but it didn’t hurt him. As much as you wanted to strangle him right now, you didn’t want to hurt him. 

Crosshair didn’t even look over his shoulder, long legs stalking across the floor towards… anywhere, “What about me, Shade?” He even had the audacity to sound bored, like all of this was beneath him and you were just wasting his time. 

You growled at him, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I see the looks, the comments, the way you clam up when someone else comes by us.” You grabbed his arm, spinning him round to face you, glaring up at him despite the seductive heat pounding through your veins, the tension thick, heavy, “Why do you hide that you care about me, huh?” 

The muscles in his jaw rippled, his entire body turning rigid and those honey eyes hardened to pure, solid gold. “Hide?” His voice was soft, caressing the word in such a way that you felt you were staring down a Loth-wollf about to bite. 

But you had just as much of that beast inside you, didn’t you? 

And you would never back down. “Yes, Cross. You hide beneath that mask of cold indifference, like everyone is beneath you, like you don’t care.” 

Crosshair cocked his head, hands clenching into fists before he folded his arms across his chest, his forearms brushing your own, “And what makes you think I do care?” His voice was still quiet, but you didn’t need to read his presence in the Force to know he was lying through his teeth, and almost succeeding. 

But you were too similar, the same sides of the coin, the same shock of lightning. 

“Bullshit.” You cut him off again, a laugh in your throat that was anything but humorous, only serving to irritate the pair of you even more, “I can see it. I can feel it through the Force yet you still act like this. You can’t try and convince me this is real. You’re lying to yourself, not just to me.” Your words cut like the edges of blades but you didn’t care.  

There was a beat of silence, a single heartbeat. 

Then he moved, pushing you harshly against the hull of the Marauder, a hand round your throat to pin you there as his other fist banged into the metal loud enough to have it ring in your ears, “I’m not the one lying to myself, Shade. You talk about seeing?” He was breathing heavily, head tilted down to yours, caging you in tightly, your mingled fury charging and choking the air, “Well I see what you so blatantly try to ignore when you look in the mirror. I see that beast inside you that wants to tear into everyone, to make them pay for you losing everything. I see it in the way you tear down fields of enemies without a second hesitation. And that’s what scares you. That I’ve seen is and I’m not afraid. Because I’m like you.”

You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak but then his hand tightening around your throat, thumb pushing into the soft flesh underneath your jaw to keep you there. It might have cut off your air slightly, but you couldn’t hide the faint hum of fiery pleasure, knowing full well it tumbled against his palm but you were both too furious to notice. 

Besides, he wasn’t finished. 

“You could be as… ferocious, as powerful as that all the time, if you just let yourself feel it. But you don’t.” His eyes were livid gold still and he leaned in, his words dancing across your face, hitting straight to the core of you, “You let go and yet still run to Hunter and let him tell you it was okay, it was just a slip of control, you’re still good.” His chest rose and fell sharply, “I would never make you be someone you’re not.” 

Your head spun, his words echoing in your mind, fuelling that confusion, that anger and you snarled at him, lashing out with the force but he held strong, “Why do you care so much, Crosshair? Why do you care what I am, what I do?” You couldn't lean forward so you pinned him with a stare, trying to catch your breath, “Why do you care so much that I go to Hunter instead?” 

Crosshair’s head twitched a little, as if he were going to shake it, “Don’t start down this path, Shade. You aren’t going to like where it leads.” His hand tightened reflexively, making you gasp a little and his eyes dropped to your lips, drinking in that noise hungrily. 

“Backing down from a fight, Cross? That’s not like you.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “You started this. You don’t get to run away just because the tables have turned on you. If you have something to say, say it.” The last two words were a hiss. 

He stared at you, then his face contorted in anger and something else you didn’t recognise, before he moved, his hand drawing into a fist and then he slammed it into the wall beside your head. The ship groaned in protest but he barely flinched, not even when he pulled that hand back and pointed at you, “I have been. But you haven’t been listening.” He held there for a moment longer, looking you up and down before he scoffed and walked away, a flash of something in his eyes… hurt? 

~

Now.

Crosshair didn’t even know where to begin unravelling what he felt around you, but he knew what he felt in this moment. What he would do.

He would tear apart every planet in the galaxy to bring you back from that monster that took you. He wouldn’t stop.

Ever. 

[valictini]

What i find funny about my post about Etoiles' obsession with saying that the codes who attacked the eggs were from the Feds is that... so many ppl seem to romantize the shit out of Etoiles on this issue.

It's awesome to read these takes, it ticks all the boxes for a very good story... but I really don't see it that way lmao

Like, all the analysises I read seem to hinge on the assumption that this obstination is a rp thing, but I'm pretty sure that this is a cc!Etoiles thing.

He's just convinced he's right, despite all the clues, 1) because lbr, he's not the most attentive when given instructions/clues and consistently gets things wrong because he just rushes when reading stuff... and 2) because he reads a lot of dumbass takes in his chat, which means that nowadays he just assumes his chat is wrong or writing fanfictions whenever they try to argue about this specific theory lmao

Also, I think he lets himself be stubborn about it because, ultimately, even if he's wrong? it doesn't really change anything. He already knows the resistance is shady.

Learning that they attacked the eggs in the past won't stop him from still working with them and won't change the fact that the second the resistance fucks up, he's out. He'd be surprised and disapointed to be wrong but yeah, he'd shrug it off easily.

He really doesn't have an unwavering loyalty towards the code at all. He just loves them because they've been fun to fight and have given him a good challenge.

Sure, he'd love to have 100% trust towards them, and he does feel a warrior's bond with them. He was DELIGHTED when he got the confirmation that they were working against the Feds... but he also knows they're just tools. Tools that obey to their weilder. So if the weilder is bad, the code will be bad. And he doesn't mind that! He understands that the codes are all different!

I think his only concern is to make sure that they never completely fall into bad hands, and for now, he'd rather the resistance (gray area) have them than the feds (confirmed bad guys).

Again, so fun to see everyone giving him the "lonely misunderstood warrior clinging to someone who's Like Him" treatment... but i can't help thinking that it's not that deep.

Idk, maybe I'm being too meta about it, maybe etoiles is actually cooking up a codetoiles slow burn lmao

[horizon-verizon]

I hate it when people compare Aemond to Visenya and Daemon to Maegor the cruel ?! It's supposed to be the other way around ! Daemon is Visenya and Aemond is Maegor ! Fucking hell ! (At least if we want to compare I mean. Book or series)

Also, this delirium of saying that Aemond is an anti-hero... So these people certainly haven't read the books, but even in the series, Aemond does not tick any of the anti-hero boxes.

Aemond is a villain. That's all. Having him kill Lucerys by accident on the show doesn't change that fact, it just makes him look like a jerk.

In episode 8, we see him literally enjoying the decapitation of Vaemond, when we have never seen such an expression (of pleasure, let's not lie) on Daemon's face when he was killing people. Simply because Daemon doesn't find it funny to kill people, nor does he kill them for fun.

Also, Aemond remains, series or book, a misogine and blood purist. What Daemon, book or series is not.

So, I'd like to know how people's brains work to call Aemond an anti-hero...

This post is EDITED.

There's nothing really "good" about this guy except his mother (so arguable and only if you stan or approve of her) and the fact that he rides Vhagar. And before others crow about how this is supposed to make him thematically paralleled to Visenya, may I point out that it is Daemon who has Visenya's sword, Dark Sister. Given to him when he became a knight at 16 by Jaehaerys I (yes, that misogynist prick of a King). You know....the sword that is more symbolic of familial protection than a dragon that only owes its allegiance to whoever rides it (not a bad or inferior thing, just need to point out how swords have the symbolism of political and emotional loyalty that accentuate familial love and bonds when we note their signifier of royalty and feudal protections, whilst dragons have a broader, more varied character).

And Dark Sister has a long history of loyal, loving supporters of Targ heirs and rulers: Daemon, Brynden Rivers, Baelon (after Aemond dies, in revenge mission), Visenya....come on now! Jaehaerys I even wields it when he is reclaiming his birthright. Plus, swords culturally carry so much history

Aemond is like Visenya in that he enables the wrong candidate to be/maintain being the King, but Daemon is like Visenya in that he has done and will do whatever it takes to support their person above all, through extreme violence. Daemon takes after most of the best or admirable of Visenya. (The brutality unfortunately is also inherited and shared with Aemond)

Do we remember how Visenya told Aenys I to burn down the Holy Sept? How she definitely reveled in burning Dorne after Rhaenys' death? What sort of passion for a relative/lives does Aemond canonically display? How she made a point to Aegon I about him needing a personal guard by being quick with her sword and cutting his cheek after he wouldn't listen? The same guy who didn't go to King's Landing to rescue his mother and sister after Rhaenyra took it despite saying he would?

But by being raised by Alicent (who would have despised Visenya and her "witchery" and just by being a confident, proactive woman) how the hell would Aemond care for Visenya, the figure, at all?

As for Daemon being Maegor....Maegor openly killed people who did not deserve it.

Vaemond? Deserved.

The "criminals" of KL? Dicier, admittedly. It's not like Daemon would care to take a breath to discern who is merely accused and who actually did those crimes. Mirrors how Visenya was willing to murder anyone in the Sept along with that High Septon.

Rhea Royce's death? He def would have done it, but as for did he do it? Plausible deniability (but for me, it didn't happen at all): she took 9 days to die (not his MO of quick deaths) and he was at the Stepstones for all of it. Horse riding is dangerous as hell, Rhea would be surrounded by people in her hunting retinue, servants, etc so there were witnesses, Daemon could've had her killed long ago when they were still married and even had it done through an assassin when Rhaenyra had her first period and was marriageable but didn't (instead marrying Laena, too), and if he did send an assassin why did this person leave Rhea to linger at all? Why would a good assassin just let Rhea longer for 9 days (why would Daemon not hire a good one if he were going down that route? Even if he didn't have the funds to hire a VERY good killer, if he was dedicated to having her killed, it'd have to be a proper job or he'd be accused easily, so again, he'd like to find one of the better skilled assassins, which is expensive)? And why wouldn't Daemon hire a good killer?!

Laenor? If not Corlys (and why not, but that's a separate discussion), then Rhaenys, who has known Daemon and lived close to him for years, thinks he didn't do it he didn't. Neither stupid nor unobservant, this one. Passionate about her family as well. She would have never let Daemon get away with it.

[kitkatt0430]

There is a new episode of the Flash where apparently they're doing a mold inspection instead of just doing air quality testing on their own? Seriously? I know I'm not the only one going O_o at this setup.

Maybe the actual episode will make it work somehow? Time for me to find out.

And we're starting in 2123, so a hundred years from now. STAR Labs is the Flash museum with a statue of Barry out front. I can't tell from the angle of the opening shot but I assume the building's exterior still has not been repaired.

someone is poking around with flashlights, dressed mysteriously and headed for the weapons vault. This is clearly fine and normal.

There's an actual security response. Oh my gosh. I mean, its still ineffective, but wow. STAR Labs is gonna have security one hundred years from now. Finally.

Sorry, I think my sarcasm level may be extra high today, please bear with me.

The intruder escapes through a breach of some kind. And the camera closes in on the date the episode is set, which is foreshadowing the mold inspection going wrong, i guess.

It's weird that this is being sold to us as a mold inspection, though? The inspection certificate with the date on it is specifically having to do with the Department of Energy. Why they need a DOE inspection, I have no idea. Are they finally gonna use the pipeline to generate energy for the city or something?

I should just... watch, I guess.

Barry painting Nora's crib and getting all excited about being a dad is adorable. He's also super happy about getting Iris whatever food she may be craving, in this case ice cream. And then it turns out Iris tracked down a magazine that had once featured Henry Allen on the cover - science and medicine journal - and that's just so sweet of her. Barry has so little left from his parents after his mom's death and his dad's arrest...

This is West-Allen at it's best right here. Barry and Iris taking care of each other and showing how much they love each other. (Proof that when they work, they really work.)

Okay, so the mold inspection is because Barry is over-reacting to the whole wanting to make everything safe for Nora now, now, now. What a mold inspection has to do with the DOE is... *shrugs* I think I'm just gonna have to handwave this connection.

Apparently Khione is headed off to spend time with Carla, who wants to get to know this iteration of her daughter. Khione deserves to make family connections, so I hope this goes well. Carla messed things up with Caitlin, but did make inroads in fixing it, so hopefully she'll accept Khione for herself and get some catharsis over Caitlin and Frost's deaths. Khione is afraid of botching things, because she isn't Caitlin and not being Frost already made things go sour with Blaine. I wonder if we'll actually get to see their coffee meetup or if it'll just be discussed afterwards so we know it went okay.

Anyway, the mold inspector brings friends because asking for an inspection set off code alerts or whatever? I'm calling so much BS. That is not how things work. And since STAR Labs hasn't been operating as an active research lab, it doesn't really matter what else is or isn't up to code.

Bet Barry's regretting letting Chester have the day off now.

Iris shows up to join in the fun and rescue Barry from his bad decisions. And it's becoming more and more clear that these inspectors don't know what the hell they're doing. I mean, the electrician doesn't know what the breaker box is called?

At least Barry and Iris lampshade it.

And the temporal anomaly kicks in, herding everyone back to the speed lab repeatedly where a rather nice grandfather clock has appeared. Ticking loudly and ominously.

Barry - I can run to the future and find out how we fix this and then come back and... fix it. Iris - This seems like a bad idea. Barry - TIME TRAVEL!! What could go wrong? Iris - Everything, but whatever. Just bring me back a snack.

Barry once again jumps to time travel as the answer. *sigh* He never learns, does he?

So I want to like Allegra and Chester's date, but the jokes over scrabble feel forced. No one says 'za' instead of 'pizza'. Allegra's concerns about being found out as a meta are just kinda... not treated seriously before segueing into Chester rambling about how amazing Allegra is and how he's in love with her. Which freaks them both out. There isn't a second of that scene that isn't awkward or uncomfortable.

Back with the main plot, Barry uses the speed lab to get up to time traveling speed and some kind of wave changes Iris' outfit into this pretty blue dress with gold accents. She looks great. Barry's attempt to reach the future fails and watching him smack into a wall is hilarious.

Nice try, Barry. Fix this without cheating.

Looks like everyone else got new outfits too. Barry's is kinda Star Trek TNG/DS9/VOY era uniform looking, with a Flash symbol where the combadge would go. That had to be a deliberate choice. :D

And now Barry's been outed as the Flash to four new people. Secret identity made of swiss cheese.

At least the inspectors reactions are funny. Especially the guy who faints. And after some technobabling, we get the conclusion that one of the inspectors is the time traveling thief from the start of the episode.

My money is on the electrician, but she could also just be like me and sometimes just has words disappear from her vocabulary. I have definitely forgotten words I use every day before because my brain just blanks them out for a bit. But this is a tv show, so it seems more likely she's the culprit than the red herring.

Meanwhile, game day at Cecile's continues to be boring. This is the most awkward game of Catan I've ever seen.

Cecile - I'm gonna escape to the kitchen. Chester - No, actually you stay. I shall flee away, away.

Thankfully we're now back to the main plot and they're all speculating on who the time thief could be. Iris is having fun playing with the tech to clear everyone. And then one of the inspectors got replaced with a statue. Whoops. No closer to escaping yet, and the statue is one of those nude statues with the fig leaf.

Electrician is definitely the bad guy, she accuses Iris.

Inspector Dude #2 - Not Mrs. Flash!

lol, he's adorable.

Allegra's trauma flashbacks to Nash and Esperanza's death... *sniffle*

Show writers baiting me making me think that Cecile is gonna talk about her first marriage that failed... and then she doesn't. Hissss, I want back story, that's more interesting than the Allegra/Chester shilling.

Iris and Barry finally having that frank conversation they pretended to have in the first episode of the season is great. And I'm glad they're having Iris talk so frankly about how uncomfortable being pregnant is for her and how distressing it can be. She doesn't regret it, but the way it messes with her body and brain makes it tough on her in a way Barry can support her through, but not totally understand.

And their talk gives Barry the Eureka moment he needs to figure out who the time thief is.

Hehehe, Mrs. Flash, I love it every time he says that.

Barry - Blatantly making up bullshit about the electrical in the building. Electrician - Uhhhhh O_O I don't know enough to call bullshit because I'm not really an electrician.

Awww, two more inspectors down. :(

Lady Chronos... I can't get over her face. The makeup decisions were... interesting.

Barry - Oooh, I'm a lightning generator. I can power your belt. Lady Chronos - Working with the Flash. Ewwww.

Yay, resetting the time magnet reset the inspectors, this time with the real electrician. And the inspectors don't seem to remember what happened. Probably for the best they don't remember Barry's the Flash.

Khione - I could have told you there's no mold. Barry - ............ *expression says he feels dumb now*

So confirmation we don't get to see Carla and that Khione's coffee meetup with her went well. Carla managed to do what Blaine failed at, by wanting to get to know Khione for herself. Good job Carla.

At this point it seems like they're never gonna pick up on that plot thread with Carla gaining ice powers or her own frosty alter ego, which is a shame. But at least she's in the background trying to do right by Khione.

Allegra tracks down Chester to make things right. If nothing else, though I may not like their ship, I do hope the show will end with them happy.

Vibe-accinos. I'm so glad Cisco has a Jitter's drink. He deserves it.

The ending is more cute, domestic West-Allen.

While not the best episode of the season - either the heist episode with the Rogues or the previous episode focused on Iris and Nia are currently that for me - this was a solid and fun episode. It did much better with the temporal anomaly concept than the season opener and did a much better job of addressing Barry and Iris' different ways of dealing with their current circumstances, giving Iris room to voice her feelings without invalidating her or otherwise kicking the can down the road.

Since we're stuck with the Chester/Allegra ship, even though it's forced to the point of awkwardness at all times... Chester is adorable when he's happy. He's got such a lovely smile. And Allegra does deserve to have a relationship where she loves someone and not have it end with that person dying. I do like that the big loves of her life mentioned prior to Chester are all platonic/familial, making it clear that her non-romantic loves were just as important to her as her current romantic one.

The trailer for the next episode makes it look like the breather episodes are over and we're moving on to the final arc of the show. Bloodwork is back, as is Wally, Dig, Oliver, and the multi-verse.

Barry - *hugs Oliver* Oliver - I'm allergic to feelings, you're giving me hives. Stop it. Barry - *hugs more*

I'm guessing this final arc will have Khione come into her own as a hero? I mean, they haven't done anything that justifies killing Caitlin to create her yet, so they've gotta do that before the season ends. And this is a short season, right?

Finally... Barry's birthday was previously established as being in March, but now they're celebrating it in April from the looks of things in the trailer? *heavy sigh*

[stoookes]

Just caught up with Omegaverse, and ch 5 was all I hoped for and more!

Boy, I loved Stu slowly and tentatively getting accepted in Jimmy and Ali's friend group! Yay Ali for being so perceptive that Stu isn't really happy hanging around with Kevin and his friends. And boo Kevin for starting drama between Jimmy and Stu, by telling him to hit on Ali as a way of testing Jimmy 🙄😤 Just when things were looking up too, and Jimmy was warming up to Stu 😡

Also, jealous Jimmy unfff!!! ❤️‍🔥But I felt so bad for Stu in that scerréene man, Jimmy get off my baby boy! Don't threaten him like that! You have no idea how hard all this is for him! I can't wait for Jimmy to find out Stu's an omega, and how it impacts their relationship. Also, same for Ali, although I feel like Ali might suspect that there's more to Stu than meets the eye, but is keeping his mouth shut about it because he isn't sure/in case he might be wrong.

And then the Stu/Fred scene was so hot too! And Fred knowing Stu's secret all along ahhh.... 🤌🏻✨😩 I have a hunch as to how Fred knows about Antarax and therefore Stu must be omega, but I'm gonna keep shut 😏🤐

Also, really appreciate the Joey mention (Ali's omega whose name begins with a J... Stu might not have put the pieces together, but I certainly did 😉), and this makes me think, are omegas in county/domestic cricket more common? Like, domestic cricket might sign on a player knowing he's omega, but international boards won't do that? Or were omegas forced to keep their secondary gender hidden, even in domestic and club level cricket, and it's only now, after VK's debut, that they have been empowered enough to come out, and cricket boards have become slightly more open-minded and allow some exceptions to their no-omega rule?

Ahh yay! So glad you enjoyed it :D

Yeah, Ali and, as a by product, Jimmy are really trying with Stu, but if feels like every step forwards for them Kevin comes in and forces it to be two steps back. That totally won't be a recurring theme...

I might have to write some more jealous Jimmy... He's fun 😏 Ahaha, the perils of knowing more than the characters - I think, for me, although Jimmy trusts Alastair like no one else, any other alphas flitting around makes him nervous. I mean, just take a look at some of the other England alphas. Jimmy doesn't trust them to respect Ali and his relationship, and with Stuart having spent so much time with those alphas he is a byproduct of that mistrust.

Ali and Jim will find out. It's... Yeah, you'll have to wait and read 😉 (hope that was cryptic enough to have you worried 😜)

Yup, Freddie has known since that very first encounter - it was more poignant than Stuart might think. We've got a few theories on how Freddie knows, they get explored a bit at the top of Ch6.

It poses an interesting question - about domestic/county teams - because we know everyone has to declare (Stuart does in Ch1 when he joins Leicester). Not really something I thought about until writing this chapter and honestly this is only a year after VK and Tim make their international debuts so our omega here will have already have to have been in the team. It's much easier to lie to counties because it's a tick a box situation, no tests done, but our omega is out (as Ali knows) so they will have declared honestly. ECB don't really have anything directly to do with the counties bar using them as talent pools, so I guess they let the domestic teams chose for themselves.

This is something I'll probably explore a bit more when we get to other player's fics :)

Thanks for the comment! I'm really glad you're enjoying it 🥰

[vetometo]

Here goes...

Running, running

It's incredible, the constant stream of tactics and anti-tactics your brain can cook up when you get pulled so far into your escapist habits you start escaping the part of you that's scrambling for a way out.

There was a time I thought noticing it would make all the difference. I wasn't necessarily wrong, either - it's just that real progress prefers winding paths and does its best to wriggle out of your grasp at the first chance it gets. Sometimes it succeeds. Then it's a matter of how long it'll take for you to catch up, because you will, in the end. It'll tire itself out in the same way you can succumb to exhaustion. There will be times you tire before it does, and sit down on the dirt as you watch it gleefully put more distance between you, wondering if this is the last time, now.

Eventually it'll turn around - when the novelty wears off, you'll hear the sigh, see it standing still, waiting for you to follow. You can take the invitation then. You'll be allowed to approach, feel better as you close some of that yawning distance, before the chase begins again. Not in earnest, though. Not for a while. You might notice it stumbling more often (just a little too exaggerated to believe), or huffing and puffing (loudly, audibly) as it complains about the terrain you know for a fact it can fly across in its sleep. So take the mercy for what it is, and pick up the pace.

Or you can stare back, blinking heavy eyes, waiting right alongside it to see which will break first. Then you might see it hesitate, shifting on its feet, before it takes a tentative step in the forbidden direction of back to you. Each of these steps will be a gentle push, though. Back on the path you collapsed on. You'll feel the drag as the first step calls to you, begging to never have been taken at all. So you must take a step too - on you hands and knees if need be, just forward, toward the concerned dignity being laid down before you. You might feel a tug as it takes you by the hand and coaxes you back onto your feet, checking over you all too indiscreetly. No words are spoken, but you think you read what almost looks like an apology in its eyes, sorry, I thought you could keep up, I didn't see the tremble in your steps. You'll be led forward then, gently, in the right direction. You'll recover the distance you lost, flatter terrain now that it's known to you. You'll take back the lead without realising it. Then it might start all over again, but not yet. For now, it'll be an eager hand you hold instead of a slippery wrist.

Be careful with this option, though. That first step might not be towards you if you're unlucky enough. If you sat and waited too long before. If it sees you lose resolve too many times in a row.

Then you might really be left in the company of the enclosing walls.

I haven't felt the biting chill of the lonely draft yet, thankfully. But it's an impending thing. It looms, just out of sight, as a reminder of what's at stake. That's not necessarily a bad thing.

It doesn't mean it can't get suffocating at times.

So can the compulsion to drop it and run, though. Into the numbness I find respite in, into all hours of the night, eyes burning and ears ringing. It's not incentive I lack, but that begs the question of what, then? so I dutifully (dumbly) ignore it, gaze flitting over words and images and characters and stories that only silence my mind for as long as I have my eyes on them. So I have my eyes on them a lot. I shove the ticking clock out of earshot, and the ticking clock shoves back. A boxing match always ongoing in the back of my mind. My bets were and still are on the timer. The blind beast has held on much longer than I assumed.

Maybe I need a more solid grasp on what reality is. Seems obvious but is it, really, when I can live vicariously through snippets I absorb through pages or a screen? What will tether me long enough to lay out the future I've been making a mad dash towards? Because things are only going to get harder from here, and here I am, trying to type out my frustrations because the alternative is an embarassing breakdown that'll do more harm than good.

It's the little moments, I think. What makes it real. Not the plot points or the major twists or the big, emotional minutes that brand themselves into the forefront of your memory, but the insignificant ones you file away as routine. The aimless walks and peeling potatoes with mom and getting up every hour because you need something to keep your mouth busy, damn it, or you'll go insane with restless energy. The menial tasks. The parts you don't include in a story that's told and not lived because they're a given and your brain fills in those gaps on autopilot but they have weight when you realise, when you're conscious of hey, I'm in one now, a little part of being alive. Those motions you go through even on days you're not fully there. Because they're anchor points.

Maybe if I have more of those. Anchor points.

This may have been a half-decent idea after all.

I'll see you in a standalone moment.

[reina-royale]

Will Du: Can't, or Can? (Redux)

Starting off with a fun fact: Will's original concept was Ken Du, who was just as capable as Kim. They had a rivalry with each other, but also a bit of a romance. Concept art had him looking just like Hirotaka.

So, honestly, the idea of Kim having an actual rival in saving the world is so interesting. Unfortunately, Will doesn't measure up to Kim.

Or, he's not supposed to.

But he's the top agent at Global Justice for a reason, so there's probably more to his mistakes on the mission than being incompetent.

Let's review:

The first thing we learn about Will is that he doesn't want to work with an amateur. He finds it insulting that he's being asked.

Instead of it being snobbery or an insult to Kim's abilities, it could just as easily be that he wanted to get the job done without having to teach someone else to do it, and was insulted that they wanted to waste his time by making him teach someone to do the job.

I mean, I don't know how it works in the world of espionage, but in every job I had, if someone of high rank was being asked to work with a new recruit or potential recruit, it's because they were expected to teach them or determine if they'd be good for the job.

(Also, Kim needs to not take being called an amateur so personally. She never even fought an actual bad guy until "Tick-Tick-Tick", which was less than two months ago at this point. She is definitely skilled, but she is technically an amateur.)

And Kim is someone who said, to Dr. Director's face, that she's wrong about why someone would kidnap Professor Green because "you can learn everything he knows at the library."

(Honestly, odds are that wasn't true. This is the era where computers were still boxes, Wikileaks didn't exist yet, and only nerds spent a lot of time online anyways. There were still projects from WWII that were classified, so it's doubtful that everything Professor Green worked on was declassified.)

Will Du and Global Justice assume Professor Green had been kidnapped for his weapons knowledge. Even if that wasn't why he was kidnapped, they still have an interest in making sure none of his weapons knowledge got out anyways.

But Kim keeps insisting that the trained professionals who do this for a living are wrong.

It must be really frustrating for Will.

(Just because Kim was right doesn't mean she has to be a know-it-all.)

There's also the fact that Global Justice had only asked Kim on the mission, but she brought Ron and Rufus along anyways, meaning in addition to ensuring Kim's safety, Will also has to ensure the safety of a civilian and his pet, who should not have been there in the first place.

Despite Will having an entire database of verified information on his wrist, Kim insists on going to a den of criminal activity to talk to some crime boss for information, despite being unable to prove the information would be correct or helpful.

(And does not tell Will ahead of time where they're going, denying him any ability to refuse to go or offer an alternative.)

Sure, it got the job done, but Will no doubt has procedures, rules, and regulations to follow, along with a list of things that he shouldn't do, and using unverified, known-criminal sources for information is probably one of them.

In summary:

Will has to ensure the safety of an amateur that charges into things without talking to others, and the civilian and rodent she dragged along who shouldn't be there.

Will has to follow rules and procedures that Kim doesn't think about and likely wouldn't respect anyways.

Will has a database of useful and verified information, but Kim insists on using sources like Big Daddy Brotherson.

Kim went into the mission with an "I know better" attitude, already believing she was better than the professionals who do this for a living.

So, while Will is probably actually extremely competent, he was also off of his game because his style doesn’t mesh well with Kim’s at all.

And he would have been an interesting recurring character, but the creators decided not to give Kim an actual rival in saving the world, for some reason, so we never see Will again.

(I like to imagine he specifically requested to never work with Kim again, so Global Justice only contacts Kim for things that Kim would be better suited for, or when they were studying The Ron Factor.)

So, Will could have been a very interesting character, someone to serve as an actual rival to Kim when it comes to saving the world.

Sadly, his potential was wasted by turning him into a seemingly incompetent agent.

And that's just sad.

Bonus Thoughts:

Will doesn't seem to be very experienced with combat. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, it just leads me to a certain conclusion about him:

He wasn't trained for combat.

Global Justice's top agent would be very skilled at whatever they needed him to be good at, but combat doesn't seem to be one of his skills.

So it's very likely Global Justice probably didn't need him for combat. His skills probably lie more in intelligence gathering and espionage, which requires more stealth and diplomacy than fighting

And it certainly never involved fighting villains like Kim's.

Thus, Will is not incompetent, he's just not suited for combat against supervillains with gimmicks.

[myinnerchildletters]

7/4/2023: Letters to and From School-age Child

Dear K,

I'm a little worried about the way that the things that have been going on at home with your parents and sister are affecting you. Can you tell me how you're feeling? You can be honest--they're not going to find out, and even if they did, they can't do anything at this point. It's OK to open the box and let your feelings out.

Love,

The Fairy Queen

---

Dear Fairy Queen,

I feel really alone all the time. I'm so isolated. I don't know what family means. It means...nothing to me, I guess. I'm so detached from that word. I was thinking recently that I feel so separate from it, like I'm not part of it. It's like a vague greyness.

I'm tired all the time, too. I'm so lazy and stupid and don't want to do anything. Mom and Dad think I'm just lazy, and that's true, but I have no energy to do anything anymore. I want to lie in bed all the time, and it's SO unhealthy and bad for me.

I HATE "going places" every weekend, and I hate that my mom calls it that stupid name, like it's just something fun and ordinary. I HATE it. I feel so anxious and sick to my stomach. I literally wake up early and just read and try to get my mind off it, but it doesn't work.

I wish Mom and Dad would listen to me once in a while. They think I'm bratty, which I am, but I'm so tired and miserable. I mean, I hate "going places," and yet they think I'm supposed to be happy about it? They KNOW I don't like it, but they drag me everywhere anyway. I hate it.

And I'm so nervous and get anxious easily. I don't even know WHY. It just happens. I think I have an anxiety disorder. Sometimes, I think I have health problems. Mom and Dad say I'm just freaking out, but I'm not! It's real!

Nobody ever pays attention to me, either. I'm just alone. I feel empty inside, and sometimes things feel like they aren't real? It just happens out of nowhere. I just blink, and--boom. It's like I'm looking at the world through a TV screen. It's scary. I notice that it gets worse when I'm playing my Gameboy for so reason.

I'm so tired. I wish I could start over. Nothing feels good anymore. I told my online friend Alisha that I feel like I don't have anything to look forward to. I'm scared about the future and going to high school, too.

I just feel really sick and tired and want to cry and scream at my parents, but I can't do that. Nothing feels right. I don't know. I don't feel right. What's going on with me? Am I going crazy?

Love,

K

---

Dear K,

So, you have childhood depression and anxiety. I didn't get diagnosed until I was an adult, but you tick off all the boxes. You're also experiencing something called "dissociation." When you feel like everything's not real, that's your brain trying to escape reality because of stress.

Daydreaming is a form of dissociation. You've done that, right? That's when you're "taking a break" from reality. However, what's happening now is your brain trying to escape the stress that you're under.

I get that you're under a lot of stress at home and at school and have worries about the future. That's why your brain behaves the way it does. Weirdly, it's trying to protect you, but it's not really helping us, is it?

Anyway, there's nothing wrong with you, and you're not going crazy. Millions of people have depression and anxiety that started in mid-childhood, and plenty of other people dissociate, especially when they're under stress.

I hope that helped explain some things for you!

Love,

The Fairy Queen

[heretherebedork]

I like your perspective on Mame, and the EL James comparison is a pretty good one actually. Granted like you I haven’t seen tharntype (just knowing what the start of the plot entails I don’t think I could handle it), but I have watched her other shows, and I’m currently watching dsn. She’s a guilty pleasure, and while we have to keep perspective and acknowledge the aspects of her work that are problematic, I think it is ok to indulge. I ended up on a side of tiktok where people were saying it’s unacceptable to watch any of the shows. But imo while if it’s triggering for you absolutely don’t watch her shows (and there’s a lot you could be triggered by in her stories), I don’t think everybody who watches the shows should be condemned. But maybe I’m just defensive because I’m a trash panda who has a mega soft spot for tincan because I can never resist a good enemies to lovers, and bad guy who actually has a soft spot for one person. The tropes that I love are all there on one package!!! What am I supposed to do??? And like I have to admit she writes some really interesting relationship dynamics, she just always ends up fucking it up with all the things you listed. Idk if it’s bad of me or not but mostly I try to close my eyes and ignore, fast forward through some of the real bad stuff if I can when watching. Idk absolutely we should all be calling out the problematic nature of the work, but like let’s not say all people who watch are bad. It’s a bit more complicated then that I think?

I have no issue with guilty pleasures or with watching things that aren't perfect and have issues as long as as you acknowledge them.

I really have reached the point that I maybe should just give in and try Tharntype on that basis but it doesn't particularly appeal to me.

But also, look, there's a reason MAME is popular and has so many shows based on her characters and stories and more constantly getting picked up. She's obviously writing what people like.

And that's her characters. Frankly, MAME writes a damn good character. She writes fantastic dynamics.

But her plots and her character development fall apart at step one and that's... that's just the truth.

I adore AePete. They are absolutely one of my favorite pairings of all time. TinCan? Yes. Yes please. I've actually rewatching LBC2 (just their parts) multiple times because I enjoy their dynamic so much. Pfft, TulHin! I adore them and how fucked up they are. LeoFiat? I mean, holy shit, I love their entire dynamic and their characters.

But every time the plot lets them down and there's never any actual character growth and you just kind of have to... make it up if you want to try to see it. Tin gets the most character growth and even that is... barely there, frankly, and mostly in regards to his brother more than anyone else.

MAME also likes to write families that are very obviously heavily reliant on traditional Thai values of where the importance and blame lies in a family. Which I don't entirely understand because, well, I'm a Jewish dude from Chicago raised with a completely different set of values.

There's nothing wrong with guilty pleasures. There's nothing wrong with enjoying imperfect things. I mean, hell, I love H1: Obsessed and that is SO fucked up but it doesn't matter in the slightest to me. I adore the whole thing so much.

Like what you like, love what you love. Acknowledge the problems and the problematic parts. Talk about them. That's how people grow, from learning from what they do and watch and see. That's how other people grow, from reading and talking and discussing. Nothing happens if we pretend it doesn't exist and try to only like things that are perfect.

You wanna talk about perfect relationships? Tossara is a perfect and absolutely healthy relationship. I love that show to death but boy howdy does nothing happen.

So... yeah.

Enjoy your pleasures. Have fun. Be critical but being critical doesn't mean don't enjoy it. I promise, between myself and @absolutebl, there's plenty of levels of critical and enjoyment that you can reach.

[nxrthmizu]

happy birthday — tsukishima kei

pairing | tsukishima kei x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.6k

↪ part two of this

second chance // an opportunity to try something again after failing one time

tsukishima kei wasn't expecting anyone. sure, it was his birthday, but he did have work the next day, and wasn't very keen on drinking himself senseless into the witching hour.

since yamaguchi, his mother, and akiteru had taken it upon themselves to inform half of japan of his birthdate, kei had just spent the past four hours repeating 'thank you' to people ranging from his junior high schoolmates and strangers he had never met. he was certain that 99% of the players involved with the japan volleyball league had shown up, much to the amazement of his museum colleagues.

the bell rings for the third time, and kei is suddenly hyperaware of how annoying the sound is. he had just sat down, for goodness's sake— was it too much to ask for one minute of rest?

with his socializing energy at an all-time-low, kei nearly tears the door off his hinges, greeting his unwelcome visitor with a fierce snarl. "what do you want—" the words clamp down on his throat, breaking his airflow for a whole five seconds as he stares, utterly floored. "... y/n?"

"...hey?" you look sheepish, holding a small, one-cake-slice-sized box in your hand. he's known you long enough to know that you did your makeup on the fly— the tremble of your eyeliner is a sure giveaway. "... uh... is this a bad time? cause i can come back later—"

"no!" he blurts, hands slamming onto the door frame. he hadn't caught a glimpse of you in six months, ever since that fateful night when you walked out through the same door you were now standing in front of. there wasn't a single night in those six, grueling months that he didn't think about you, or the warm feeling of having you contained within his arms. sure, there were nights when you two fought, heading to bed with your backs faced to each other— but when morning came, you would somehow be in his arms, and somehow kei just knew that things would blow over.

except maybe they didn't.

left with too much time to think, he analyzed every little argument the two of you ever had, critically examining every word he uttered. perhaps the break was needed— the two of you needed to take a step backwards, re-assessing what you two wanted for each other, what you two wanted together. what you said that night hadn't be wrong— there were just too many issues being swept under the rug, too many things you weren't communicating about, too many problems he elected to ignore, in hopes that they would just 'blow over'.

"i mean," he clears his throat, lifting his hand off the doorframe, groaning at the paint scratch he caused. "would... would you like to come in?"

mentally, he smacks his forehead. you don't need permission to enter! in his mind, kei still considers the apartment your home, too. even if you haven't stepped foot within its grounds for half a year.

"if that's okay?" you smile softly, holding up your cake box. "you've probably had some already, but i bought your favorite. if you're full, you could have it tomorrow morning, before work?"

"no, no, i'm not that full." kei instantly assures, even though he's already brushed his teeth. on normal circumstances, he would leave it for the next morning, but what was brushing his teeth one more time if he got to talk to you for the first time in over a hundred-eighty days?

you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "don't lie to me, tsukishima kei. i can smell your toothpaste. i'll leave it in the fridge."

a fond smirk dances over his lips as you brush past him into your apartment, leaving your shoes where you always do on the shoe rack. the sound of your sock-clad feet padding past the living room brings a truckload of tension that kei didn't know he had off his shoulders, and all of a sudden, the house feels a thousand times cozier, even if nothing materialistic has changed.

he watches you from the sofa as you bustle around the kitchen, and he knows by the number of beeps on the electric stove that you're boiling water for tea— green, probably. the ration of tea packets are restocked regularly, because when you moved in, you brought your tea addiction with you, too. kei's been lured into drinking it on a daily basis, right after dinner, as a way of calming himself down after a day of work and practice. typically, tea would be accompanied with you, snuggled up against his side as he complained about the kids he met at work that day (you both knew that he had a secret fondness for them, but shhh).

"i hope you don't mind. i made tea." you say, bringing the glass teapot you were adamant on buying a year ago. it was one of the best purchases kei ever made in the apartment, because he was reminded of the worth every single time the two of you did your regular tea routine.

"of course i don't mind." he replies instantly, picking up his mug (the green one with tiny dinos on the edge). "this is still your home, too. you don't have to ask to do anything."

he pretends not to see the flash of surprise across your features.

"right." you murmur, pressing your mug onto your lips, blowing gently on the surface.

the two of you sit in silence for a while, sipping on your tea as the clock ticks onto eleven o' clock. suppressing the urge to ask you to stay, kei taps the surface of his porcelain cup rhythmically, forgetting that you know all his tells, front to back.

"is there something on your mind?" you ask gently, setting your mug down. he grimaces.

"ah... it's nothing." kei brushes off, not wanting to come onto you too quickly. for all he knew, you were just here to deliver the cake, not to reignite whatever was left of the relation he let simmer for too long...

"... right." the tone of your voice spells i-know-you're-lying-to-me,-but-i'll-let-it-go-for-now.

the silence continues, like a set prolonged. it's starting to get on kei's nerves when you (thankfully) speak again.

"happy birthday."

"thank you." even though he's said those words a thousand times that night, it sounds a comparatively much less robotic than it had for the previous thousand times. perhaps it was thousand-first time's the charm. "i mean it. thank you for coming over."

you wave it off. "i couldn't have not come. tadashi sent me an invite, but my boss needed me to work late and i didn't manage to make it."

ah, so that was why his best friend routinely glanced at the entrance nervously throughout the night. that explained a lot.

"i don't mind." kei takes a sip of his green tea, enjoying the warmth that courses through his chest. it isn't warmer than the warmth you give him, though. "i like it like this. ... just the two of us, i mean."

you contemplate him for a moment. "i like it like this, too." you confess quietly, as if whispering a childhood secret to him behind the karasuno gym.

he couldn't bear it any longer. he's always been patient, yes, but he's seen the looks his mother and brother threw him through the night, because they both knew that the one person that really mattered wasn't there. he was pretty sure his mother was just about to introduce him to some random girl before he excused himself for the night.

"will you stay?" he blurts, feeling very un-tsukishima-kei-like. it isn't like him at all, to be brash, and bold, but how can he? for the past four hours, he's talked to countless people— heck, half of them were volleyball celebrities— but not the one he wanted to talk to.

"do you want me to?" you ask softly, shyly, and kei knows that you're thinking if he wants you back— which is stupid, honestly. he knows that you're always thinking that you're lucky to have him, when it should be the other way around. kei doesn't think there's anyone else willing to put up with his dry humor, his hectic schedule, and his dinosaur memorabilia. if anything, he should be the one thanking the gods for letting him have you.

"don't be stupid." he snaps, cringing internally at how his tone came off. "of course i want you to stay, you're the best thing that happened to me. i won't force you, but—"

"i left some clothes here, right?" you cut him off with a hum, and when kei looks into your eyes, he just knows.

there's still a long, long, long way for the two of you to go. there's still plenty of things he needs to learn. there's a pile of issues in the store room that needed to be tended to.

for every million arguments there are a billion conversations where you two need to sit down and work out the knots. for every insecurity, for every misunderstanding, for every conflict, there is a needed effort to clean up the mess properly instead of just sweeping it under the floorboards. but for every tangle there lies between the two of you, there is a universe of room to grow, and change.

kei knows he's willing to make an effort, for you. kei knows that he's willing to do anything to make sure you don't walk out that door without looking back again. kei knows he's willing to do every single thing he can do (and can't) to make it work.

he knows.

he looks into your eyes, and he smiles.

everything is going to be alright.

haikyuu!! taglist: @ryuiki @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester @fandomsgotmefucked