#and life hasn't felt real for a while now. and so many things are in shambles

[utilitycaster]

Wait. So CR3 ended with Liliana, Ludanis, technically Predathos (within Imogen or something?), and all the gods all still alive (though technically in mortal form)?

I understand that sometimes it's journey before destination and the story is more important than the finale of the story but....W-what was the point??? If the BBEG Cult Leader who kicked this whole thing off to kill the gods and the gods are both still alive what was the point??

So Liliana was alive, Ludinus was alive (having used Clone or similar), and Predathos ran away because the gods assumed mortal form and there was nothing to eat on Exandria.

Really, while again I have my many critiques, the actual only part of this end state I think is a genuine mistake is Ludinus.

I think that Imogen deciding to join with the Volition and assassinate Liliana would have been a compelling character moment for Imogen; when she didn't do that I felt that Liliana dying when she chose to defy Ludinus would have been a compelling character moment for Imogen. When that also did not happen, my general feeling was "I don't really care about her fate, but it doesn't matter at this point," so her ending is one of the many "yeah, that's fine I guess" ones this campaign delivered. I don't think she's a good person, but I also think that now that she's just a regular-ass sorcerer and her cult leader tried to horribly murder her and then disappeared she has no motivation to continue committing crimes so yeah wandering around figuring out who she is now makes sense. It's still not interesting; most of my criticism in the end is "this wasn't very interesting."

The gods becoming mortal was genuinely interesting and any critique I have is how poorly it was signaled, how irrelevant it made any of the excruciatingly dull circular discussions throughout the campaign (and how hypocritical and stupid it made the characters as a result, not that that wasn't a problem from the start), and how malformed the logic of what this means mechanically for clerics was. But that is an interesting change, to me, especially since the Divine Gate is now down. Idk I think it's possible for the cycle to genuinely begin again; I mean, wizards figured out the rites of ascension before. Will one of the gods-become-mortal undo their own bindings, or will some wizard studying this phenomenon hit on the formula? The party (and fandom) discussion of Who Gets Power was rendered completely pointless but like, the actual concept is great.

Ludinus, however; honestly it makes no sense either way because not only did he do nothing to narratively earn any kind of redemptive ending [if I say "earn" know it's narratively because he is a pretend guy and the people who act like fictional characters are real and should get capital punishment are Calvinist freaks]; I don't see why he'd just hang out making tea unless he somehow thinks the gods are genuinely gone, having missed out on the happenings after his form was killed. Like, look. I do not believe that you have to kill the bad guy to have a satisfying ending, but you do need to follow through with the implications and this doesn't seem to have done so. The only possible ways this fits with his character are either that he's biding his time to do some other bullshit (possible, and if he pops up in a one-shot or miniseries to do villainy and get murdered I'll grant this), if he somehow hasn't found out and thinks the gods are dead (less likely but admittedly pretty funny, and if he lives out the remainder of his life in an isolated cottage, blissfully ignorant, thinking he got his revenge when he never did, that is a boring option but see above, this campaign usually went with the boring option for character development so what else is new), or if we somehow managed to get an ending that is more unwilling to give someone any kind of follow-through in the end than Ted Lasso, which is embarrassing, and I liked Ted Lasso for what it was.

[loumauve]

sorry I've been unhinged lately and cursing your dashboards with all manner of posts. I'd love to promise it'll get better soon but that would probably be a lie

[penultimate-step]

Lately, I've been thinking about the effect of real-world time on perception of media. Or, wait, let me start from the beginning.

When I was 11, I read the book Ender's Game for some school assignment or another. I don't remember ever considering Ender a relatable character, but certainly my understanding of the events was shaped by being of an age to see the protagonist not so much as a young child but as someone of my peer group, someone who could have been slotted amongst my classmates without anybody batting an eye.

Over a decade later, I read the sequel, Speaker for the Dead; it takes place many years later, when Ender is in his thirties, and my feelings about the in-universe time skip were undeniably shaped by the real life time gap between my reading of the novels. Reading the first book back then and then the second book now created a feeling where it's almost like, I'm browsing the facebook page of someone I had known in middle school but lost contact with, checking up on how they're doing today. The real-time factor caused me to perceive it less like a timeskip, and more like a reunion - the feelings were closer to "oh wow, that's my boy! I haven't seen him in years! Wonder what he's up to?" Which in turn gave me a better position to appreciate the parts of the narrative about him struggling to find a place in his adulthood than I would have been had I perceived it more strictly as a quick skip from 11 to 20 to 36.

While musing about this, I considered a VN I played a few years back, which took place over three in-game days - except at the end of one in-game day, the game would lock you out from progressing for 24 hours real time. So that as the in-game investigator protagonist was ruminating on the information that had been discovered that day, the player would be forced to do the same. In this example, by forcing the player to experience the same timeframe as the in-game characters, the sense of it being an in-depth and extensive investigation increases, even though without the forced pauses the game would be short enough to blow through in a handful of hours real-time.

Which brings to mind how time effects things in long-running serial works. It's well known that an audience which watches an episode or reads a chapter week by week has a very different experience than one binging through whole seasons or volumes at a time, but I wonder if the real time relative to the in-universe time makes that effect stand out more? Fight scenes, for instance, have been known to take up several chapters in certain manga or webnovels. What does it do to the reader's perception, if from their point a view a fight takes a whole month, while for the characters they read about it's only been a couple hours? Readers might feel that the situation is more stressful, since the pressure of the fight has been ongoing for a long time for them, while in-universe it was a rough afternoon but no more than that. Contrastingly, when a series skips ahead or otherwise has long periods of time for characters that feel short for readers, it can feel like no time has passed and everything is still the same, unless the author really stresses the differences in world-state that occurred offscreen. Because the reader hasn't changed at all.

No conclusion here exactly, I just think it's interesting how often an audience's response to a work, the emotions felt, are more closely tied to their real-life timescale, something almost completely out of the author's control, as opposed to in-universe time, which can be intentionally shifted or played with for the sake of the narrative.

[polarimiufy]

it's the little things that count

PAIRING: platonic batfam x reader

SUMMARY: you were growing up in the Wayne Manor not completely ignored by everyone. instead, they showed their love in little ways.

your family members were often busy. you were not completely oblivious to their nightly activities. often times, you had to attend a gala in your dad's place while he was prowling the night streets in Gotham wearing a bat costume. though, he tried not to make it as a habit or people will notice.

you love your family, really. there was no hesitation on your part. you were not related to Bruce Wayne by blood, like Damian, but you loved him like he was your real father. you just hoped that he would take care of himself more often and not spend so much time in the batcave. not to mention everyone was in on the secret. Dick was already off to Blüdhaven. Jason rarely came to the manor, and preferred to spend time in Crime Alley. Tim, now finally entering college, was busier than ever. Damian was also busy with school and being Robin.

your only hope was Alfred but even he can't be at many places at one time. so, you feel dejected. the manor felt so empty now that they were absent.

and your family noticed this. of course they did. so, they decided to show signs that they care.

Dick can't be at the manor all the time, so he often texted you messages. he sent you good morning texts, asking how you were doing and leaving reminders like "don't skip breakfast!" and "don't sleep too late, you don't want to be like Tim :)"

one of the few rare days when Jason did go to the manor, he took you riding around the city with his bike, going to the bookstore and grabbing lunch at that restaurant you liked. before he left, he would ruffle your hair and tell you "don't bring trouble" to which you scoffed because hello? look at you? and asked you if he needed to threaten someone, which was unnecessary. you were tempted.

as for Tim, since you both were almost the same age, you often spend time talking about the woes of living a college life. "ugh, Tim. i can't believe this but one of my groupmates hasn't answered my texts yet- the deadline is TOMORROW!" and cue the venting session. Tim always listened to your problems. he felt that sometimes you don't need a solution, you just need a good listener.

and Damian, given his upbringing, he wasn't good at expressing things like affection. he found you crying one time, stressed from doing assignments. it only took him one look at you before he grabbed his sketchbook and his art supplies then sitting next to you and started drawing. the sound of his pencil moving on the paper soothed your mind. you didn't need words to express yourself. just by being side by side, eased you both.

Alfred often made tea and cookies for you when you immersed yourself with work. he knew about your sweet tooth, and he liked to take advantage of it.

while Bruce was often absent from your life before, he tried to involve himself more. breakfast and dinner was spent with him asking about you. if you were doing okay, if someone was bothering you, if he had to bribe them to leave you alone, etc.

your family never said it out loud, but you knew.

you were loved.

[trainsinanime]

When people say Marinette is too anxious and has regressed in Illustrhater, they forget some very important facts:

Marinette is very sleep-deprived because she and Alya spent all night up theorising about the new Hawkmhoth. Who knows what kind of caffeine she took in to be functional for their date. It must've been bad.

Speaking of: New Hawkmoth. Yes, Marinette is redirecting some of her insecurities about Adrien onto New Hawkmoth, but she is definitely genuinely anxious about this new threat and this keeps filling her head.

Also bridges in the city randomly collapse now. That was canonically not a superhero, just a really bad condition of the bridge. How many more bridges are about to collapse? Did they cut corners while building these new trams? All that would weigh heavily on my mind too.

These excellent points aside, I also really, really like that Marinette is anxious about dating Adrien. The thing is, I have seen so many shows that had a will-they-won't-they thing going on forever, and then once they did, like a dog that caught the car, the show didn't know what to do with them. The solutions were generally an attempt to return to status quo. Make them break up. Have the forces of fate separate them. Something, anything, other than actually write the romance you just had made canon.

Miraculous Ladybug has even more risk here, because at the end of season 5, for better or worse, all the things that could challenge Marinette in the real-life A plot of an episode have vanished. Her real-life enemies have been exposed and left the school (Lila) or outright deported (Chloé), and her other big challenge was always Adrien. Frankly the show needs to do something to ensure Adrinette isn't too easy, otherwise all the plots would be, "Marinette is having a super-awesome day, briefly interrupted by an akuma". No, they found a way to still challenge Marinette here, in ways that feel authentic to her as a character, and to her challenge of having a real boyfriend for the first time (don't be too sad about Luka's feelings here, he'll understand).

Now, I know many people will say that this is all nice in theory, but the way in which they did in Adobe Illustrhater was so over-the-top and unrealistic that it felt like they were watching a French cartoon for six-to-ten year olds. And to that I can only say: It's been a while since we all watched a regular episode of this show, hasn't it?

[cece693]

You Call That Love? (Damon Salvatore x Male Reader)

Because I don't see many Damon Salvatore x male reader posts, I decided to write one myself. You can't convince me that Damon hasn't had male lovers before.

Summary: Elena tries to get with Damon but soon realizes he has moved on—with m/n of all people.

Their lips moved in a frenzied dance, hands tearing at each other's clothes in a passionate embrace when the gasp of a familiar, bothersome human interrupted their intense makeout session. Looking up at Elena with an annoyed expression, m/n rolled his eyes before sitting upright, allowing Damon to hastily put his shirt back on.

"Why?" she whispered pathetically, her brown eyes tearing up while looking at Damon as if he had just killed her parents. "I thought we had something—"

Unable to contain his laughter, m/n released a hearty chuckle. "Why, Miss Elena?" he mocked "I distinctly remember you bragging about your relationship with Stefan not even a week ago. What happened? Trouble in paradise?" Feeling Damon's arms wrap around his middle, m/n cuddled against Damon's front, allowing the vampire to take what he needed.

M/n wasn't naive to the fact that Damon still harbored some feelings for Elena, although the nature of said feelings had changed. So, just for him, m/n would step back and allow things to run their course.

"You don't know anything," Elena hissed, her eyes narrowing at m/n with utter hatred. Ever since he stepped foot into Mystic Falls, her life changed for the worse: Bonnie and Caroline finally stood their ground and told Elena they didn't want to be involved in her problems.

Recently, Stefan and she broke up; Stefan, noticing the eerie similarities between Katherine and Elena as of late, decided to break the cycle and began dating Caroline.

But, worst of all, when Elena finally (or rather knew she had no other option) admitted she loved Damon, the vampire disregarded her confession, telling her he'd moved on—with m/n of all people.

"Elena," Damon's stern tone caused the girl to break eye contact and look expectantly at the vampire. A part of her still hoped Damon would realize the mistake he was making, but as the vampire continued talking, hope vanished.

"I don't love you. M/n made me realize that what we had was toxic and borderline obsessive. Being with Stefan, then me, Matt—that isn't love."

"Don't try to tell me how I feel," Elena exclaimed. "I'm sorry it took me such a long time to realize my feelings, but you can't tell me what I feel for you isn't valid."

Feeling bold, Elena stepped forward, about to touch Damon and reel him back into her web of manipulation, when m/n had enough and pinned the human to the wall, his hand on her throat. Uncaring if she could breathe, m/n felt this was sufficient punishment for Elena, thinking she could touch what was his. 

Elena gasped for breath as m/n's grip tightened, her eyes widening with fear. "You thought you could have it all, didn't you?" he sneered, his cold e/c eyes piercing into hers.

"Stefan, Damon, and whoever else caught your fleeting attention. You don't care about anyone other than yourself. Where was this love when Damon was begging you to choose him? Your exact words were nobody could love a monster like you. And now you want to rewrite history? He's with me now, and I suggest you come to terms with that."

With a final, disdainful glance, m/n released his grip on Elena's throat. "You're twisting everything!" she exclaimed after regaining composure, her voice strained. "You don't know the whole story. What Damon and I have is real."

As Elena struggled to defend herself, Damon's expression shifted with each word she uttered. At first, her claim to have loved him drew a flicker of skepticism in his eyes. However, as she delved into the reasons for denying his love, a mix of hurt and anger played across his features. "I loved him, but he was too caught up in his own darkness to see it."

Damon's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with a wounded expression. "People change, m/n. Damon could have changed for me." The pair of vampires now stared in disbelief. How had Elena managed to turn herself into a victim in this situation?

"Change? Is that what you call it?" Damon's retort cut through the air like a cold gust of wind, his voice edged with bitterness. His eyes, once clouded with hurt, now blazed with a fiery resolve. "You left, Elena. You chose someone else. You choose Stefan."

M/n, standing beside Damon, could sense the raw emotion emanating from the vampire, a poignant mixture of anger and hurt.

"M/n accepted me for who I am. He didn't demand that I change, mold myself into someone more palatable to fit your version of love. You can't rewrite history just because you don't like the ending."  

Frustration etched across Elena's face. "Fine, have it your way," she spat, casting one last resentful glance at Damon and m/n before storming out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. Even as the sound of Elena's car drew farther away from the boarding house, Damon's eyes lingered on the closed door. 

M/n turned to Damon, his gaze softening as he assessed his lover beside him. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah," Damon replied, "Thanks for handling that."

M/n nodded, his expression conveying understanding. "You know I've got your back, always." Damon's eyes softened, a subtle warmth replacing the tension that had gripped him moments before. He didn't need grand gestures or elaborate confessions; the simplicity of m/n's words told him everything he needed to know.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[st-eve-barnes]

I always make this end of the year post on here looking back on the good and bad things that happened that year but I don't really know where to begin this time. Ever since we buried my aunt in February and had a car accident on the same day this year has felt very off and it hasn't changed since.

Even yesterday we celebrated Christmas with the family and it ended in drama, which just does not happen in our family, ever. (it involved my sister's bf, our family is fine). But it just feels in line with the rest of this weird year.

There's been several deaths around us this year and I've never had as many sick days before, nothing big (I'm lucky here) but many smaller things piling up.

I've been quiet on here lately in fandom as well because I feel like I lost my fangirl vibe a bit. I stopped writing months ago and just been feeling very meh about it all (of course the disappointing season 2 and now lack of content doesn't help). It is what it is, I can't force it.

But let me end with the positive because there have been a lot of good things and many beautiful moments as well. One of the major things for me this year is that I managed to kick my depression. I was in a very dark place last year and the beginning of this one, crying so often for no reason and feeling very out of touch with everything. I'm glad to say I've been feeling much better in that department. The goal for next year is to now kick my anxiety because that one has been on a high this year (how could it not with the state of the world right now??)

But back to the positive, while I've been quiet on here I've been more present in real life, focussing on other hobbies and spending more time outside. When I stopped writing I also picked up reading books again and I'm really enjoying it and indulging in it. My husband has been through it all with me last year and it only confirms what I already knew, that he is the best guy in the entire world. We've grown closer this year (if that was even possible), he is my rock and the absolute best thing in my life.

I'm not quite sure what next year will bring, my anxiety makes it hard to feel entirely positive, but we have a lot of things to look forward to and I hope fandom can pull me back in and I might even write something again one day. But I'm not forcing the muses to come back, things are good as they are now and you might get more aesthetic than fandom posts on this blog for a while longer ;)

I want to tag some people that have kept me company during this year. I hope your holidays are everything you want them to be and the next year will bring you good things❤️ (this goes for all my mutuals not just the ones I tag because I will forget so many people)

@neonhairspray @whitedarkmoonflower @koediepatoedies @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @bouncehousedemons @lipstipsky @felteppsters @kaelatargaryen @ms-oswald @lovebittenbyevans @aemonds-fire @dr-aegon @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @lord-aldhelm @persephonerinyes @poppy-in-the-woods @anjelicawrites @gemini-mama @mrsarnasdelicious @livmondcole @sylasthegrim @thenameswinter99

[ajokeformur-ray]

My thoughts on Joker: Folie à Deux

Now that I'm done sobbing and it's been a few hours since I left the cinema with my roommate, I've put the first Joker on for comfort while I write this.

Spoilers below the cut for anyone who hasn't seen it.

We all know that I was one of those "I don't want a sequel" girlies and in a way, I still am. I maintain that Joker didn't need a sequel, it was a perfect standalone. But, surprisingly, I enjoyed this film as it was.

It was very dark, gritty, the things we didn't get to see because they were only implied were things which stuck with me long after leaving the cinema, it was ambitious with Lee but didn't quite go as far as I would have liked with her; she had so much more potential and I thought we were gonna get that when she smashed the shop window to get a small TV with which to see her Joker on with a very sweetly spoken "excuse me" and then walked away without a fuss. It was gorgeously arranged, the songs were perfectly selected and I adore that That's Life played during the start and end; it brought our beloved Arthur to a full circle. And, most importantly, it was faithful to our Arthur. That's what I and so many others were afraid of, that this sequel would butcher our boy, but it didn't. It was faithful to him to the bitter, tragic end.

Joker was gorgeous. He was... so realistic, so raw and real and in pain, he was everything I always wanted this universe's Joker to be. I've always said in my fics and posts that Arthur didn't want to be Joker, it was something which the general public put onto him and he never wanted it, he just wanted to be seen, heard, accepted and loved for who he was, and even when he exposed his pain on national TV, he wasn't given that. He was ignored, spoken for rather than listened to, and then in this new film that carried on happening until yet again he stood up for himself and took what he knew to be right. He's the best advocate for himself and it's a lesson I need to learn from him a bit more than I have done before. But I digress... Joker was so perfect. And his little comedy moments did have me giggling, even through my tears at various points in the film.

I enjoyed the difference between how Joker and Arthur were considered, though we all know that the lawyer's initial defense, as well meaning as it was, was not it. Arthur was never gonna walk out of there without consequences and we all knew it. The constant switches between his delusions as Joker and the way he was stood still in Arkham or the courtroom were so well done, and I liked how murder was used against himself while he was waging between doing what people were telling him to do, and what he wanted to do for himself.

I was begging for Arthur to do the right thing the whole way through the trial, even though I knew what it would mean for him, and in the end he chose himself just like he did in the first film, and it was the bravest thing he could have done. It was utterly devastating, but in the end I think the way he chose to go down was the right way. He could have either continued being Joker and gone down being known for someone he wasn't and someone he had never been, or he could stand up, admit to who he is and display emotional maturity and speak for himself.

He chose the latter and I'm, in a very bittersweet way, grateful. I sobbed through most of the film but in the end, Arthur was himself, and it was so brave and so heartbreaking. This film was, at the end of it all, as true to Arthur as Arthur ended up being to himself (and I think it was because Gary's testimony and tearful "why are you doing this to me?" that was the catalyst behind Arthur making this fateful decision), and it was... it was so hard to watch, very difficult to stomach, but also I am proud of myself for going. I really didn't want to, I didn't, but Arthur would have gone to see us if the situation was reversed, and not going to see this film would have felt like abandonment of our boy... I didn't want to do that. I'm glad I went, but I'll probably take a long time before I'm able to watch it again, if I ever can.

The last scene especially shattered me, but I think that from a narrative point of view, it makes sense. Arthur was a tragedy, through and through. Though, he's an unreliable narrator, so who knows if we saw what we all think we saw? It was the perfect end for Arthur, as horrific, cruel, and brutal as it was, but the inmate was wrong... it wasn't at all what he deserved.

Our Arthur deserved sunshine, cuddles for days, kisses in the rain, dancing, singing, he deserved comedy nights and a dancing partner, he deserved so much more than what he got.

And the irony is that the people complaining that this Joker wasn't the Joker they wanted are literally proving the core message of the film; Arthur isn't Joker. He was never Joker, and that's why he was abandoned by so many in the film; by Lee, by those dressed like Joker, by everyone who wanted him to be someone he wasn't... he was given that title by people who didn't know him, people who didn't want to know him, Gothamites who used him and his crimes to justify and further their own political agenda, and, in the real world, by those complaining that this Joker isn't the Joker they wanted.

Arthur is Arthur Fleck, he's always been Arthur Fleck. He was willing to die to make that point, so in the end he died for himself, and it was so brave and courageous and heartbreaking.

I walked out of the cinema sobbing the hardest I've cried for a long time, but so much more in love with Arthur Fleck than I was before. I just want to tell him how sorry I am, and how loved he is by all of us. That's what he deserves.

❤️💚💙🤍

[2demondogs]

I read your newest post and could you create a different version where they forgive each other and get together 😭 the ending was so painful to read

HAHA IM SORRYYYYYY NONNIE I always deliver on the angst what can I say /lh

Here is a self-indulgent version but he's still pathetic reader just matches his freak. Also the original for anyone uninitiated, took it up from where it turned sour.

Javier hears your voice for the first time in over a decade ordering at a saloon and he cannot move. Do you like Mexico? Where have you been? You're here, if he's not mistaken by that fake name (though you're a fool to reuse them) and the face (though you've aged) and the way you walk (though it's more confident). You're here, and Javier is suddenly very upset with himself because, even though he knows in his heart that none of it ever was about Dutch, he can't find the word traitor in his mouth.

It's been so long, you can't find it either. There's still hurt in you and maybe it has soured you just enough that you find yourself as weak to it as Javier. He looks every day of his age and then many more, and it pulls at something in you. You had hoped to grow old together. Here he is, and he has grown old without you.

Javier's still hopeless first and a romantic second. Being near you lets loose a decade of swallowed desperation that makes the right thing to do — turning on his heel, leaving — once again very difficult. He was given a second chance at life when Dutch found him those years ago, and here he is given a second chance at love. He'd be a fool not to take it.

So once again, he does not do the sensible thing. Instead, he buys you a shot and when you say his real name, he doesn't lie. You put your hand on your gun belt apprehensively, assuming he would want you dead, but that fear dwindles when he plucks your wrist away without so much as looking down. Javier still knows you like the back of his hand.

He hasn't changed, but this second chance might do it. He's different now, but there's too much familiarity in its ugliness. Javier used to be Javier, not just the things that he was made of. You have to admit that it softens you to see him broken and lost. You hadn't realized how lost you were yourself.

Still, you're both older, more hardened now. Javier curses himself for leaving when you part at the end of the night, so he doesn't let go when you run into each other the next week a town over. It proves to him that things are meant to be. It begins with keeping tabs on you — he's got the connections, now, plays the risky game of telling people he's concerned about your intentions — and ends with him trying and failing to convince you to work for the government alongside him.

You accuse of him of betraying his morals, and he agrees. Javier's working hard to keep some cognitive dissonance up, but at the end of the day, he goes where he has the best chance of survival. Eventually, his own desires will go numb enough to be at peace with it. You flare them up again. Javier wants like he hasn't wanted in years, and— well, he had never truly felt at home anywhere but with you. He still feels homesick. Maybe he can forget himself, for a while, if he goes where the wind takes you.

[meshla-cyarika]

My Love, My Life

Pairing: Tech x Jedi!reader

Word count: 1,063

Tags/warnings: angst, grief/mourning, there's alot of signs of autism shown in Tech in this fic but less obvious ones.

Summary: After finding your name in the Imperial obituary, Tech doesn't know how to move on.

A/N: How many aura points do I lose for crying while I wrote this even though it's not that good? I was originally going to have a part two of the reader's perspective where it's reveal that oh my god you're actually alive, but I dont know whether to do that now purely because of how deeply Tech is shown to be grieving and I kinda don't want to take that away from him. Yk what I mean? But if people say they want a part 2 who am I to deny them? Also, yes, the title is based off of that one ABBA song cuz I was listening to it while I wrote this.

--------------------------------------------------

The Marauder was tingling with tension. The genocide of the Jedi, the betrayal of the Empire, the loss of Crosshair and the gain of Omega all happened over the course of twenty-four hours. Everyone had their own reasons to be on edge.

Tech's mind had been on autopilot for days. As soon as he saw what Master Billaba's men did to her and how quickly Crosshair became bloodthirsty for all Jedi, time seemed to stop. He had frantically typed on his datapad to try and find an explanation for such a brutal attack. When Tech saw that it was a full fledged genocide, he swore his heart stopped beating for a second. The only thing that kept him from having a panic attack was his advanced biology.

When they got to the Marauder and fled Kamino, Tech was instantly searching the Imperial database for the list of the dead. He never thought he'd have to check an obituary to find your name, but there you were. Jedi Knight. Executed on Lothal. The reference image they used for you was haunting. To see you stood there, just so alive, with the word executed next to you was enough to make bile stir in his stomach.

It didn't feel real. Tech looked at your information in the obituary again and again and again, but his mind just couldn't process the information. He felt like the only way he could believe you were dead is if he saw your body laying before him and he could never bring himself to do that.

Everyone noticed the difference in their brother. Even Omega, who hadn't even been with them that long, noticed his irregular behaviour. His brothers were puzzled by his reaction to their new living  situation. Out of all of them, Tech should be the least likely to get emotional over this. Then again, change has alway been a problem with Tech. It always takes longer for him to process things like this.

They began working for a trandoshan called Cid to do some seedy work. It was obvious why Hunter made them work for her, obvious to Tech anyway. It was because being sent out on missions that have various conditions is all they ever knew. The concept of settling down on a planet and ignoring the war raging on outside is foreign to them.

It's been ten months, three weeks and five days, since your death. Tech's behaviour hasn't changed and his siblings have assumed it's all because of Crosshair up until this point. Tech had been understanding with Crosshair on Kamino and held only mild hatred for his decision.

No. This is something else entirely.

Hunter's heart aches at seeing his brother's despair and having no idea what's making him feeling this way. Tech being Tech, will never say.

He finally snapped when one of Cid's workers, Phee, persistently kept making moves on him. Tech couldn't help the pure emotion radiating off of him in waves, as he shouted and yelled at the woman. It should be you laughing at his sarcasm, it should be you calling him pet names, it should be you with him. He just wants you and that's the one thing he can't possibly have and it hurts, it makes it feel like his heart has been ripped straight out of chest.

Tech stormed off to the Marauder which was a mistake, because everything in there reminds him of you. Your first kiss on his bunk, your late night conversations in the cockpit, your shared experiments at his desk.

He wants to scream and yell at how unfair everything is. Out of everyone in the galaxy, why you? Why did death have to take you? His perfect cyar'ika who could do no wrong and managed to cling to the little faith you had left through the most devastating battles.

Grief is something Tech has experienced only a handful of times. The feelings still feel new and uncertain and that unnerves him. Tech's emotions are usually filed away in organised compartments that only he understands. Now, everything is overflowing and overlapping. Everything is too much.

It's like a bad dream. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He wants the comfort of a familiar routine, back when his biggest concern was what days him and his cyar'ika would be on shore leave at the same time.

Tech sinks down into the far corner of the bunk room, ripping off his goggles and letting them clatter agaisnt the durasteel floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins, before leaning his forehead agaisnt his kneecaps.

The last time he found himself in this position was back when he was a cadet. As much as he tried to ignore it, the regs had gotten to him. 99 had found him curled up in the corner of an embryo lab. He had said nothing at first, just sank down next to him and let him know that he was there if he needed him. Tech found himself wondering for years why he couldn't have been like everyone else, why the Kaminoans made his mind work this way. Tech would give anything to be "normal". He never asked for any of this.

A set of footsteps stomp their way up the ramp and Tech doesn't bother looking up. He's prepared for the demanding yells, the overbearing questions and the looks of outrage on his brothers' faces. What he isn't prepared for is someone sliding down the wall next to him. Tech almost flinches at the feeling of someone placing a hand on his back and tenses all the muscles in his body instantly. Eventually, his body goes back to being lax and a shaky sigh leaves Tech's lips, as he leans into his brother's side.

Tech doesn't want to talk about you to his brothers. If he talks about it, then it's real. Your body is rotting on Lothal and he'll never see you again. He can't face the reality of it. It's too real. He can't do it.

The hand on his back rubs soothing circles into his spine. I'm here, if you need me.

Someday, he will tell the tale of his beautiful cyar'ika and you'll become an honoured part of their mismatched family, even though they had never met you. You will forever live on in his heart.

[mysicklove]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 22: A/B/O

With: Isagi Yoichi

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral

A/N: i like this one. and dont ask me why i know so much about a/b/o dynamics.'

Isagi was completely fine with being an omega. Sure, in the beginning he thought it may affect his soccer career, but as he grew and matured, he realized that it wasn't a problem anymore. Scent blockers and suppressants were a gift from the gods, and key factor of how he went pro. Without them he didn't know where he would be.

But, it led to an addiction. Constantly hiding his scent, hoping people may mistake him for being a beta so he doesn't have to deal with the slander omegas get on the field. And without heats he doesn't have to miss practice. Hence, every morning he puts a scent blocker sticker on his neck and wrist, and the second he feels a little amiss, he pops a heat suppressant. And he lived fine.

Except then you came into his life. An alpha. 

Heats are supposed to be spent with you. His body was begging him to spend it with someone, but he shuts it down immediately. Its unhealthy, and he knows it. A doctor has reminded him for years now, but he brushed it aside. 

The two of you had fought about it for about a year now. It was damaging his body, but he was too deep in his soccer career to sacrifice those multiple weeks of the year. You couldn't force him to do it, but every time you saw him pop that pill, and instinctual dread flooded your veins.

He hasn't had a real heat in five years. More than twice longer than what is considered “unhealthy” for an omega. It means when he finally does fall into it, its bound to be painful, and long lasting. Not only that, but his instincts are supposed to be heightened more than usual, so he doesn't know what he will say or do once he goes into it again.

But you finally convinced him spend it with you. He has been hinting for months now that he wanted you to mark him, but when he finally bluntly asked you to claim him, you said you would only do it during his heat. He agreed with much hesitancy.

It's a dread to think about, and honestly he is a little scared. But he promised you he would do it. He (very reluctantly) called off two weeks from soccer practice during off season, when he felt his pre-heat begin to creep up on him. 

So, here he is. Going to have his first heat in five years. 

The two of you stayed at his place. It was probably better to be at a spot he is comfortable with after all. The days before it weren't too bad, you forced him to put away the scent blockers for a couple of days, so the house smelled strongly of him. He went out of his way to scent as many things as possible, growing anxious as the days went by. He also built a nest on the space next to his bed, covered in blankets, pillows, and too many items from your dirty hamper. He was antsy during this time, finding himself clinging to you, and following you around the house. It was cute honestly, watching him have a slight pout while he grips onto your hand.

His body temperature started to pick up by the third day of his preheat. He started wearing less clothing, and you hand fed frozen fruit to him, hoping to cool him off just a little. He tosses and turns in the night, whining out for you to hold him, comfort him, make the strange feeling stop. It was so confusing and he hated it.

And finally after four days, he experienced his first heat since he was a teenager. It was in the middle of the night, the two of you in his nest, and you were fast asleep when he awoke. Every inch of his body ached, and he was panting. Sweat dripped down his temple, and he could feel slick stain his boxers. It made him groan in frustration, but he couldn't do anything about it because he was so horny.

Everything in him screamed for him to get filled, and as quickly as possible. He doesn't even think about it, tearing off his shirt and boxers. His now naked body trembles and he pants into the back of his hand, before turning to your sleeping form. He quickly finds himself scampering over to you, shaking you awake.

You turn to him with a groan, eyes blinking in the darkness to try to adjust themselves. “Yoichi?” You question, voice hoarse from sleep.

He basically tackles you, collapsing his entire body onto yours, and burying his face into your neck, scenting it quickly and desperately. “It’s h-here–dont know what to do. H-Help. Hurts. It hurts. Make it stop!”

You snap awake in an instant, resting your hand on the back of his head. He straddles your leg, beginning to hump at it. You croon at him, the sound low and comforting, hoping to calm him down just slightly. “What do you need me to do, Yoichi?”

He shakes his head back and forth in your neck. “I don't know! J-Just touch me. Please, alpha!” 

You cup the back of his head, letting him rest in your neck, while you reach to grab his toy bag the two of you packed just a couple days earlier. You flick on the lamp on your nightstand and he glances at the bag in your hand, letting out a small growl and nipping at your skin.

You flinch, and he continues to growl, low, not threatening, but annoyed. “Don't want the toys. Touch me,” Isagi hisses, grinding his cock onto your leg.

“Feisty omega,” You murmur, setting the bag on the other side of the nest, and moving to reach behind him.

He gulps at the words, feeling bad already. His hormones are all out of wack, and he can't seem to think straight. He nuzzles into your neck and purrs, lifting his hips up to meet your fingers. 

You use a finger to prod at his entrance, eyes slightly widening at the feeling. “Wow love, you are so wet. You're dripping all over your legs and the pillows,” You murmur in astonishment, dragging your finger around the hole.

He whines in embarrassment, cheeks flushed from his heat, and now from humilation. “D-Dont know why. I woke up and it hasn't stopped,” he complains, voice low and gruff. You continue to pet his hair, trying to comfort him.

You hum in response, pressing your other finger into his hole. He shivers at the feeling, clinging onto you in the darkness. When it slips in easier than usual, you prod another one, finding it just as easy to slip in. “Fuck Yoichi, you’re just begging to be fucked aren’t you. Taking it so easy.”

His back is arched by now, pressing into the fingers that are now scissoring him. “More. ‘ts not enough. Please, please. I need more, alpha!” He cries, both sides of him now leaking. His face is flushed, and his whole body feels like its on fire.

You shush his mewls, letting out a soothing scent and he moans into your neck. “Alright, alright. I’m going to make you feel good, relax,” you whisper, trying to pull yourself a way for minute to prepare yourself. He doesn't let you go far, arms wrapping around your entire body, breathing into your skin. The scent seems to make him feel grounded, and it's what he desperately needs right now.

“Here, lay down for me,” You encourage, trying to pull him off just for a second so that you can line yourself up with him. He doesnt seem to listen, shaking his head and panting. Sweat beads at his temples, and he's already beginning to beg again, but you push him to the bed, pinning his hands up for a moment while you press the tip into him.

He groans at the feeling, already borderline oversensitive. “Hold me. Please. Hold me, ‘s hot. I can't–”

You kiss his neck, pressing further inside of him, and his eyes widen, gasping at the feeling. His nails dig into your back and you try not to hiss out, continuing forward till you bottom out in him. Slick continues to leak out and onto the nest, but you don't say anything, afraid of embarrassing him.

But you couldnt help but notice the way his back arches, and the wet feeling now on the both of your stomachs. His breaths are shaky and his hold on you is weak. It gives you a chance to pull away for a second, glancing at the cum spread between the two of you. 

He covers his face with his hand, blushing profusely. “I'm sorry. Don't know what happened. J-Just felt…really good,” He warbles, not daring to look at you, but feeling himself begin to grow hard again. 

You giggle at him, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “S’alright. So cute, Yoichi. Wanna take a break then?”

His eyes are back onto you in an instant, wide and panicking. “N-No! You can't stop, please keep going!” He begs, lifting his hips to grind his cock on your stomach in a plea.

You know it's the heat talking, so you don't dare to tease him, afraid of pissing him off. So you abide by your omegas command.

“Fuckkkk,” He breathes, eyes rolling back when you start to pick up the pace. You grip at the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss, and thrusting forward. His legs wrap around your waist, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. Your thrusts are hard, short, and make a lewd slapping noise from the skin to skin contact. 

Isagi pulls away from the kiss, eyes cloudy, and mouth slightly swollen from the attention. “Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha,” He chants, mewling at every thrust, while slick drips down his thigh.. 

You kiss his cheek, humming to him in question. “Right here. I'm here. Doing so well. Such a pretty omega,” You coo in response, and the effects are immediate. He purrs at your voice, nuzzling into your neck and scenting you with a small fucked out grin.

“Mark me.”

You pause your movements, eyes flashing to his blue ones. He whines at the interruption, grabbing at your hips to pull you in closer. “Right now? It's so early,” You reason, growing dizzy off his warm scent.

It turns sour in an instant. “Y-You dont want me?”

He was being unreasonable, but that was the heat talking. His brain wasn't in the right place, and the second you didn't agree, it hurt. Way more than it should have. Tears prick at his eyes, and he begins to push you away, feeling gross with himself.

You don't let him go far, releasing a calming scent, and crooning to him. “Not what I meant. Relax, omega. It's okay, you're okay. I'll mark you, will that make you feel better?”

He clings onto you immediately, scent light again. “Please please please. Wanna be yours. Your omega. Please bite me!” 

You groan, grabbing his hips and forcing him back down onto the length. He gasps, trembling, but now baring his neck to you. 

“You're going to be the death of me, Yoichi,” You sigh, not liking how much control he has over you. Between the scent and his lewd words, which would never come out of his mouth if he wasn't in heat, it was hard to stay present in the moment.

“Please please please,” he cries, grabbing your hair  and forcing you toward his very own neck. You glance at him one last time, looking at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks. He nods at you, a whine slipping past his lips. 

You take one last deep breath, inhaling your lovers intoxicating scent and bury your teeth into his neck. He yelps, gripping onto your hair as tears drip down his cheeks. But his back arches, and hes cumming again from the action. His head spins as he feels your tongue lick at the wound, crooning out apologies for the pain.

Your thrusts have slowed down slightly, but they are deeper, harder. After cumming two times Isagi feels himself grow tired, weaker, but every cell in his body is screaming at him to go again and again. Till he passes out, if he must. 

“You alright? My omega…All mine,” You whisper, brushing away his sweaty bangs. He feels light headed, absolutely amazed at the feeling of being claimed after all this time and your words, but frustrated from your bare neck. It's not fair.

A possessive nature takes over him, and he lets out a small growl. You raise your eyebrows at him, confused by the sudden aggression. He was always pretty temperamental, but you granted his wish, and were fucking him, what more could he need?

A pair of canines dig into your neck before you could even process his movements. It makes you wince, hissing out and shivering as you feel his tongue lick over the wound. “N-No warning?” You half complain, not minding the feeling of being marked by him.

He doesnt seem to be listening, heat clouding all coherent thoughts. “My alpha. Mhmmm. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Possessive little thing. S-Supposed to be my line,” You laugh at him lightly, and he pulls away for the first time tonight, maneuvering you until he is sitting on your lap, and beginning to raise himself up and down. Two hands fall on your stomach to help steady himself as he begins to grind on the length, head falling backward as he pants at the ceiling.

His movements are frantic, desperate even, as if he was afraid he would never get a chance to cum again. His own cum on his stomach is beginning to dry up, but he doesn't seem to mind. His cock flops back and forth at his movements, and sweat drips down his neck. His whole body seems to be a pinkish shade, covered in sweat. It makes you slightly worried, but knowing him, if you force him to stop so that you can check on him, he may try to kill you.

He cums again without much warning, his fingers curling up and eyes rolling backward. The stream is weaker, dripping pathetically down his cock. His whole body trembles and he collapses forward onto you, pawing at you to hold him again.

You grab water from the nightstand and basically force it down his throat, the excess dripping down his chin and onto your chest. He gulps it down without much complaint, staring at you with lidded eyes the entirety of it. “Lets take a break,” You mumble, caressing his cheek and wiping away the water.

He purrs into your touch, and realigns himself up again, a drunken smile on his face. “Not a chance, alpha,” Isagi says, sinking onto the length to try to chase his fourth orgasm that night. 

The two of you get little sleep, and you awoke to him grinding on your leg, and biting at your ear, begging you to make him feel good again, full again. But even in your exhausted state, you didn't mind too much, because how could you say no to your precious omega? 

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[the-tech-turn]

UNFINISHED

Summary: Crosshair finds Tech's old journal and reads through it.

Word Count: 1,136

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, s2 spoiler

A/N: This takes place right after the ending of episode 4 s3. I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO FINISH I PROCRASTINATED TO HARD! This was supposed to be my 50 follower celebration but now it's the 151 followers celebration! Now everyone say thank you to my bestie for peer pressuring me into finishing this and proof-reading this.

The moment Crosshair walked onto the ship after reuniting with his brothers he felt like something was off. He knew Tech was no longer with them but as he looked toward Hunter in the pilot's seat he knew it was wrong. That was Tech’s seat. Tech was supposed to fly. Tech was supposed to be there. Tech was supposed to be here. Yes, Crosshair may have reunited with his family but not all of them. Not his genius brother who would never stop talking. Oh, what he would give to hear his voice geek about different kinds of insects or Wookie culture. Crosshair gets up from his seat and walks into the barracks. He walked up to Tech’s bunk staring at all the projects that would never be finished. Gently, he moved the projects enough to sit but still kept them in relatively the same spot. He didn’t want to disturb Tech’s things. ‘He never let us near them anyways,’ he remembered. He threw his head back, a mere attempt at holding back his tears. He missed his brother. Then a thought came into his mind. A long time ago Crosshair had given him a notebook. A real paper notebook. Tech hasn't used it much since “ It is a precious gift that I do not intend to misuse.” He wondered if he ever had used it. He looks around his bunk seeing nothing. He looks under the bunk and in every place that he can think of to find the book. But he couldn’t. ‘Maybe he lost it or threw it away. Wow, Tech, really showing its “value”, he pauses. ‘ Or maybe…it was on Kamino.’ He didn’t like thinking about it much, but the day the city he was raised in drowned was the day he lost all of his memories as a cadet. He recalled the time he first gave Wrecker Lula. Or the time Hunter had come up with the name the “ The Bad Batch”. Or when he found Tech’s hiding place for his datapad. The memory reminded Crosshair of the hiding spot he and Tech used on the ship. Crosshair used it to store his toothpicks, but Tech used it to hide what he deemed valuable.

‘Maybe, just maybe, it was in there.’ Crosshair crawls across the bed stopping when he gets to the edge of the bed. He reaches over to the side of his bed and carefully pries open a panel. With his hand, he searches for the notebook in the dark box until he locates the small red booklet. He grabs the book and flips through it. ‘Yep, he definitely wrote in it,’ but as Crosshair continued to flip through pages he realized just how many pages were blank. Never to be written in. Never to be drawn on. He got up and sat on Tech’s bunk once more. He opened the book, analyzing the handwriting. He saw how the handwriting improved with every entry. While skimming the book one word caught his attention. “Race”. Omega has told him about the time they were bodyguards for someone named Cid and Tech was forced to race to keep everyone safe. “ What’s so important about a mission on some sketchy planet?” Crosshair wonders. There was only one way to find out so he started reading.

I had won the race (obviously) but to my surprise, the crowd cheered which is not uncommon at such events. I've heard their screams since I arrived. I also had full confidence in my ability, but hearing them chant my name with so much excitement, along with the praise from my siblings, I felt an overwhelming joy. All my life I had been made fun of, due to my enhancement. Mainly by regs, I have also endured endless teasing from my brother's thanks to my constant "rambling". It no longer bothered me much but it took a lot of self-reassurance to get to such a point. Little praise was given to me, the only source of which came from my brothers. No one else had a reason to provide that to me for it was my purpose. But now there are hundreds if not thousands of people admiring my skill. It felt nice, to say the least. 

Crosshair gave a soulful smile. ‘ He had been mocked all his life, and I participated in it,’ he admitted sorrowfully, ‘At least, he didn’t hold it against me.’ Crosshair lets out a sigh and flips to another page. Crosshair pauses, his name on the page. Hesitantly he begins reading, afraid of Tech’s true feelings towards him after everything. He could only hope his brother didn’t think poorly of him.

Omega asked me why I didn't care about Echo leaving us and while I think I responded appropriately the interaction got me thinking about Crosshair again. I’ve tried to forget, but that plan was flawed. How was I supposed to ignore him if I didn’t want to? I eventually came to accept his decision but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. In all honesty, I miss the times when we’d cause trouble in the mess hall. I miss when we’d compete in who shot more droids. I miss the moments when I work on a project and he’d sit next to me and clean his rifle. I miss when we would be up at the latest hours when I would ramble about anything and everything while he’d try his best to stay awake. He enjoyed sleeping a lot so it was difficult for him, but I appreciate what he did. I miss when things were simpler- no that is incorrect. I do not miss fighting for the republic. Back then we had to risk our lives, we were mistreated, we didn’t have Omega and we couldn’t choose for ourselves. I miss Crosshair. But I don’t think I’ll see him again. But, if there's one thing certain about Crosshair is his loyalty. That was evident when he stayed with the Empire. It never falters but it can shift when the loyalty isn’t mutual. I believe that is why he left us. When we denied the Empire he felt that we denied him. I do not regret leaving the Empire but I do regret not taking Crosshair with us. I find myself replaying recordings of him when I am in need comfort. It’s the closest thing that I have to him with me.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He should’ve come back sooner. If he had his brother would still be here. Crosshair looked around the room and studied it. He sees Tech’s projects, equations, and blueprints. All are things that Tech never got to finish. Looking down towards the journal, Crosshair decided to complete writing on the book. So it didn’t have to remain unfinished. 

EXTRA: Here's some old art I made when first promoting this fic.

[adripakoffee]

Hold on and let me yap about my goat Swansea rq (not rq, this is almost 2k words lol)

CW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS

I'm gonna use "probably" and "most likely" a lot in this because so much of this game is from Jimmy's perspective and he dgaf about Swansea until close to the end.

Okay, so Swansea is first and foremost, a very tired, very ragged mechanic who's probably pushing 60. He doesn't want to be on that ship. He doesn't want anything. He wants, at least at first, to just be done with this job and get paid. He respects Curly but he's annoyed by and dismissive of everyone else on the ship, especially Daisuke.

So much of Swansea's character is reliant on and paralleled to his relationship with Daisuke. When he meets Daisuke, Daisuke is happy and optimistic. He looks forward to things and tries to impress Swansea when Swansea doesn't want help.

The main reason Swansea doesn't like Daisuke ties into his alcohol abuse. Daisuke is always, at almost every point we see him pre Anya locking herself in medical, happy and energetic. Swansea hates this about him because that's a state of being he hasn't achieved, in his own words, in 15 years. He can't imagine being that happy while sober and it pisses him off. He's half jealous because of that and half jealous because Daisuke is young and has a long life ahead of him. Swansea does not like the life he built for himself while sober, but that's for later. Especially after they get laid off, the only one who has anything ahead of them was Daisuke. Swansea would have trouble getting another job both because of his age and because a lot of things on Earth were being automated.

Of course, after the crash, that jealousy becomes something else. Because Daisuke is the only one who has anything ahead of them, he's the only one whose life matters. Swansea loves his family, but he doesn't really like them. He's most likely worked with Pony Express the longest, so he knows they most likely won't be saved. They have one chance left, one cryopod for one person. He's saving it for Daisuke because Daisuke is only one with a chance.

Now bringing up Anya. I think it was 2 months in when Anya told him about Jimmy. Here I'd like to correct some things I said in other posts. In my Anya rant I said "He has the one last working cryo pod set aside for her specifically and refuses to let anyone into the room where it is." He felt bad for her, no doubt, but he probably doesn't actually do that. He, more likely, tells her "Hey, there's actually a crypod left. I'm saving it for Daisuke. It's not like either of us have things waiting on the other side of this." Swansea isn't responsible for Anya in the way Curly was. He respects her well enough as coworkers but they're not at all close. He doesn't feel any real need to put her in priority, especially with the dire situation at hand. I don't think he doesn't care, it's just not something he sees in his jurisdiction. And I'm not saying there's nothing he could've done. Had literally anyone at any point in the game killed Jimmy, a lot of problems would be fixed. But, unlike Curly, Swansea doesn't have as many options.

When they open the cargo hold and he starts drinking again, he rediscovers happiness. I'd actually like to apologize for something quickly. I made a short comic in which Swansea comforts Anya after she tells him about Jimmy (which he doesn't actually do, smh bro) and in the caption I had said "I love you sm Swansea I wish you weren't an alcoholic 😔" (It's also my most popular fanart on here and I'm very thankful for that ^^)

I don't blame Swansea for his alcoholism. It's an addiction just as much as anything else and no one should have to go through that. I personally though have had bad experiences with alcoholics and I'm generally uncomfortable around them. I definitely worded that caption poorly and I apologize for that, but I had meant it in an "I wish you were sober" way. I know that the caption had rubbed people the wrong way, so I wanted to apologize.

So Swansea is drunk and happy for the first time in fifteen years. Despite his intoxicated state, he still has his one goal and that's to save the last cryopod for Daisuke. He knows that's what he wants and he sticks to it. It's just him and the ax against the world. Eventually, Jimmy takes the ax to get the extra painkillers and the ax kinda just disappears for a while. Like I have no idea where it went but Swansea has it again by the time he offs Daisuke.

Speaking of which, Swansea kills Daisuke. Framing-wise it's probably my favorite scene in the game, like the breathing and Swansea's speech. Chat, I love this scene. Anyways, Jimmy offers Swansea a drink as a "peace offering." Swansea is never sober at this point in the game but even he can appreciate a good cocktail, especially when he's been slogging mouthwash for months. Honestly, he doesn't trust Jimmy like AT ALL at this point, but Daisuke helped him with the cocktail.

Swansea is kinda putting his hopes in Daisuke. Like obviously, he's placing hope in Daisuke's survival, but I think he's also seeing this optimistic, bright-eyed kid who's struggling as himself at the start of his sobrity. Daisuke said that the reason he got this job was because he was directionless in life. He had nothing to look forward to and no goals. The difference between him and Swansea is Daisuke's parents got the job for him and Swansea had to do it himself. So in that way he started to appreciate how happy Daisuke was, which is more reason to hate that he's there.

Swansea passes out from the cocktail and when he wakes up Anya is dead and Daisuke is in critical condition. Anya's gone which means they're out of a medic so that makes Daisuke's situation a lot worse. But because Jimmy used the Isopropyl to knock out Swansea, they're out of disinfectant. They have to use mouthwash which is established early on to have too much sugar to be disinfectant. So they kinda made it worse because Swansea and Jimmy are idiots who didn't listen to Anya. After a few hours of Daisuke slowly bleeding out, Swansea mercy kills him. it. looks. so. cool. During this speech, Swansea says something along the lines of "Stick a kid with a bunch of sad-sack adults and see what he learns. Bootstraps and all that." He really hates that Daisuke is here, it's just that the reason has changed. Before the crash, Curly and Daisuke were the only two who weren't like clinically depressed. After the crash, only Daisuke can find it in himself to stay optimistic, but even his faith is dwindling (Jimmy is optimistic too, but that's because he's crazy).

Right after that, he chases Jimmy around with the ax until Jimmy ties him up and shoots him. This is when Swansea lore drops about himself. He explains that he literally has not been happy or enjoyed his life in 15 years. He's done everything he's supposed to when it comes to leading a good, healthy life, but it's not at all fulfilling. He hates his job, he doesn't look forward to seeing his family, he just killed the last speck of joy on this metal space coffin, and he has nothing to live for. He's already fallen back into addiction so even if he got back to Earth, he'd ruin his life all over again. He'd be happy, but his life would be ruined. And then Jimmy shoots him.

Now here's a little health fact! Swansea was dying the whole game. People suffering from alcohol abuse often end up drinking Listerine when other alcoholic drinks aren't available. Now I'm just speculating and projecting, but Swansea is definitely a beer guy, that's his go-to. His tolerance suggests he was a craft kinda guy (which has an ABV between 5 and 10% (idk this is from memory)) or someone who drank a lot really quickly, but the mouthwash was 14% ethanol. That, in and of itself isn't the main problem, though it is noteworthy that he was already drinking more than usual. The main problem is that drinking mouthwash will absolutely destroy your stomach and intestinal linings. Mouthwash isn't just alcohol and flavoring, there's other chemicals in it too. On a good day, you'll get a nasty stomach ache, but you'll live. One to many though, and you are dead or in a coma. Like no joke that will kill you, especially if you drink a lot of it in such a short amount of time. That's why they keep saying "that stuff will kill you before anything else will," because it's actively killing them. Swansea probably knew this but he's prone to self-destruction so he probably didn't care. Anyway, hope you enjoyed that little health fact, I love reading medical journals ask me anything.

While writing this, I paused and started scrolling on tiktok and I saw a video where someone was complaining about the sudden villainization of Swansea in the fandom. I've literally seen nothing like this, but in the video they said one of the critiques people had of Swansea was that he was just as bad as Curly for not doing anything about Jimmy. That's insane, that is a batshit crazy take and I rebuke it. For one, Swansea was never Jim's friend. He never set people up to be victimized by Jimmy, he never enabled Jimmy's behavior or tried to comfort him when he was the problem. This was just a crazy thing to say, please learn to comprehend thing beyond the main text.

Um.. uh... conclusion paragraph, I love Swansea and I love to pretend he was more proactive against Jimmy for Anya's sake, but he wasn't so it's whatever he's not real anyway. I feel like this ended up being really long, like longer than the other two but idk.

Here's the link to the Anya rant and the Curly rants I also did, that I should probably edit upon further reflection

[loveundrwrld]

(ex) bully x fem reader oneshot

i tried to make sure new readers could understand the situation, but you can read his intro here for context if you'd like.

(cws: stalking, yandere shenanigans, reader has been bullied by the yan in the past and struggles with some trauma from it)

you’ve been stalked for a while by someone from your past. and to your horror, he seems to be finally making the move to approach you…

you aren’t doing so well. every day you feel your skin crawling, feeling someone’s gaze on you.

you’ve always had issues with feelings of anxiety ever since high school. for a long time, you’ve been skittish and untrusting of people, especially men. you know that you can take something small and your mind quickly spirals, turning a small problem into something huge in your mind.

and initially you were concerned that this was what was happening now. that your brain was connecting small things from your life together into something a sinister pattern.

unfortunately, this time… you think you are right to be afraid.

lately, every once in a while when you look behind your back you can see someone following behind you in the distance. someone with their face hidden in a scarf or wearing a dark hoodie. at first you think its just a coincidence... but, the person is always looking in your direction. and in some way or another, they’re always disguised.

later on, you check your mailbox, and there’s always a letter there waiting for you.

you knew it was from your stalker. you didn't really have any friends, and nobody in your family had that kind of handwriting you saw on the envelope.

you didn’t read the letters at first, afraid of what could be in them. in your mind, it would only solidify your fears of what was happening. you could deny that you were being stalked, chalk the person following you as just a coincidence- but seeing it written out in front of you would make it all feel real.

eventually, though, you decide that you need to read them. when you did, you realize with a sinking feeling that your stalker was the very person you wanted to avoid the most.

it's tanner- the person who made your life at school a living hell for you. all of the details and context that he’s sprinking in make that very clear that it’s really him.

it's hard to read, and not just because you feel disturbed by them. they're almost incoherent, his handwriting nearly chicken scratch as he is clearly writing them quickly and desperately. the letters themselves also seem to be just stream-of-consciousness too. from what you can make out of it, it’s absolute insanity- ramblings about how he could hurt himself if it pleases you, desperate pleadings for you to please, talk to him.

you think he's likely trying to mock you or scare you with his words of praise and obsession. you doubt that he's genuine in his intentions- though you don't doubt at all that he's obsessed with you. he’s taunting you by letting you know that he knows, you’re sure of it. his letters are simply too well timed- and have too many… ‘coincidental’ questions that relate to what happens in your life. you feel nauseous with fear thinking of him coming back into your life and tormenting you once again.

you try to go to the police with what you've seen, but nothing happens. no matter what you say, the police seem to not be willing to hear you out. to them, you sound paranoid… even though you tried to show them the letters, they still didn’t think it was worth their time. "well, he hasn't hurt you yet, right?" they would say. it would take you being kidnapped or dead for them to care, you realize.

you tried your best to ignore the pit of fear and uneasiness growing in your stomach and simply went to work.

your shift at work felt long. despite trying to calm yourself down and think of other things, you still kept thinking about tanner. your mind reminded you that you probably would not even be able to recognize him from all the years it’s been since you’ve last seen him- memories tend to distort and fade after time.

what if he wasn’t only trying to stalk you from afar, but he was actively trying to get close to you? it could be possible, your mind reasoned. he could’ve been the grocery store cashier, the neighbor next door who said hello to you, anybody. he could be any number of the customers you see walking into the store you work at.

all throughout the day at your workplace whenever a customer surprised you by walking too close behind you, or tapped you suddenly on the shoulder, you were certain that it was going to be him.

but, in the end, nothing happened. and just as you did every day, you needed to head back home.

it's pouring outside, and you're walking back out of the subway station. you look behind you, and someone in a black raincoat is walking quickly behind you. he turns his head a bit to the side and you see a flash of blonde hair sticking out of his hood.

you start walking faster- it has to be him.

just like you remembered- blonde hair, tan skin, tall, and lanky.

he’s closer to you than he’s ever gotten, and you don’t like that he feels confident enough now to change up his routine.

you walk quicker, turning left. but he's still right behind you, walking close behind.

you see someone close by your apartment stairs, a tall man with a shaved head wearing a long coat over a suit- you rush near him, hoping that the prescence of another man would deter your stalker.

it does not work, it seems- he keeps looking at you with some sort of strange desperation in his eyes.

you grab the stranger in the suits arm. you look over at his shirt- seeing a badge for the nearby bank on the front of his shirt. a security guard who just got off work, you think- he’s perfect.

the man in the raincoat gets even closer to you now, his brows furrowing. he opens his mouth as soon as he sees your hand on the other man’s arm.

"you're the person who lives in room 509, right? i need to-"

"hi, honey- did you wait long?" you ask, looking up at the man in the suit with a nervous smile.

he freezes, looking at you with wide eyes. in a few seconds though, he calms down and returns your smile.

"no, i didn't," he says, looking down at you with a sweet look.

he turns and looks at the man in the raincoat with furrowed brows, his voice immediately dropping. "is this guy bothering you?"

you freeze, not expecting him to address him directly. but you simply tug on his arm, trying to direct his attention away from him.

"don't worry about him, honey, just come inside."

he gives you a warm smile and opens the door for you, closing it quickly. he laughs softly at an alarmed sound coming from outside the door. you drop your shoulders, relaxing now.

once you’ve calmed down you feel a bit bad that you don’t recognize him- you haven’t been the best at being friendly to your neighbors.

you give the man in the suit an appreciative smile, wanting to show that you’re grateful for him playing along with your story.

“thank you for helping me! i don’t know what i would’ve done if you weren’t there.”

he looks down at you and gives you a confused look, but he smiles brightly.

“you're a sweet girl. no need to thank me for anything.”

he moves towards the elevator and you follow him. he presses the up button for you, and looks back at you with a bit of a blush on his face.

you look down where he was looking, and you blush as well. you didn't realize that the rain had soaked through your shirt, causing it to cling to your chest. you adjust your jacket, buttoning it up.

you two wait for the elevator, and he shifts a bit closer to you.

“what happened, by the way?” he says softly, looking at you curiously. “you seemed shaken up. did he ever do something to you?”

you nod, hesitantly.

“something like that,” you say, a bit bitterly.

he looks down at you with a concerned frown, and you two walk into the elevator together. you press the “5” button on the keypad.

"you should be careful. he lives in the floor above you. room 609," he says to you, his voice dropping a bit, becoming low.

he puts his hand on your shoulder, and you flinch a bit instinctively.

“do you need me to do anything to him? maybe... pay him a visit?”

you look at him with wide eyes, becoming uneasy. you slowly shake your head.

"no... you don't have to do anything."

“no, y/n, i do. if anything happens to you, it’s my fault.”

you freeze, taking a step back instinctively. there isn't much room for you to move- your back hits the back of the elevator.

you’ve never told him your name.

“… your fault?” you say, warily.

“i should’ve been more careful. i don’t know what he did… but i should have been there. he must’ve gone after you after he got my letter to you by mistake. it’s my bad handwriting that got you into this mess.”

you remember now that the address of the letters… the messy “5” he wrote for your room number looked awfully like a “6.”

the elevator door opens, and suddenly the man- tanner, you realizes, turns to you. his guilty frown turns into a small smile.

“well, anyways, no need to worry about him. it’s a good thing that i was there that time, right, honey?”

[defectivehero]

hiii! could you continue the hero x parent supervillain fic? i really wanna know what happens!

sincerely me

yes, i absolutely can...! sincerely me ;3

part one

warnings: family issues, abandonment, mentions of foster care; typical blood/injury

When the supervillain asserted that they'd be a better parent from now on, the hero was suspicious. Their sudden renewed presence in the hero's life felt like a trap and, months later, it still does. The hero has seen the supervillain out and about, and, while their parent hasn't inhibited their work, they've certainly made things... more interesting.

On the plus side, the hero is somewhat untouchable to a majority of the city's villains. Anyone smart enough to recognize the supervillain's power gives them a wide berth.

On the other hand, the hero feels a bit patronized. Many of their opponents' attacks are both nonfatal and, more frighteningly, nearly harmless. Suddenly, enemies that would never have hesitated to kick them to the curb are practically allowing them to win. It's frustrating and confusing as hell. The hero doesn't know what to do with this sudden shift in behavior. Honestly, it gives them a bit of guilt—they've become the villain in the situation, fighting with unrestrained power while their enemy scrambles to obey some sort of unspoken ethical system.

They're not foolish enough to think this sudden change in their enemies' behavior is a coincidence. No, this is the supervillain's doing. And they're not sure how to feel about it. The hero is capable enough to fight on their own, so they don't exactly like the thought of their parent attempting to fight their battles for them.

It's ironic, the hero thinks, when their parent's plan backfires. After all, not everyone is so keen to obey them. It doesn't matter if the supervillain is the most powerful and dangerous person in the city: there are enemies foolish and cutthroat enough to fight them anyway.

It's especially ironic when the hero responds to the sighting of an incapacitated person, only to find their supervillain parent collapsed in an alleyway. They immediately freeze at the mouth of the alley, contemplating whether they should stop to help or keep walking. That is never a choice heroes can make: they're always duty-bound to save people, regardless of who they are (or what they've done).

The hero sighs and breaks the distance between the two of them, crouching down in front of their parent. A foreign feeling of protectiveness briefly surges through their chest, before it is quelled by their doubt and suspicion. This could be a trap, designed to ensnare them by preying on their good nature.

But it's not a trap, the hero is soon forced to realize The blood coating the pavement beneath them; the supervillain's crumpled form; the pitch-black night... All of it is painfully real. And this time, it's the hero who has to swoop in to the rescue.

They frown down at their parent, studying the lines of their face and finding an unfortunate resemblance to themself. The hero can see how others make the connection between the two of them so easily: they have the same eyes, same sharp jaws and shaggy hair. Something burns in the back of their throat. "I'm not doing this for you," the hero feels the need to clarify. They bend down and place a hand under the supervillain's head.

They don't expect the supervillain to open their eyes, much less to respond. "I would expect nothing less," the supervillain chokes out through gritted teeth. The hero blinks at them in disbelief, something scarily similar to concern tugging at their chest at the supervillain's dazed state. There's a foreign feeling reverberating through their rib cage.

"I could just leave you here," the hero whispers, their voice breaking. Their eyes are stinging with unshed tears. "No one would know." Their grip momentarily tightens. Their hands are shaking. The hero bends their head down to hide the torn expression they're sure they're wearing on their face.

"You would know," the supervillain murmurs, blinking slowly. Somehow, the hero knows the supervillain isn't speaking out of their own self-interest. The statement is more of an acknowledgment of their relationship. The hero's parent turns their head to the side and lets out a garbled sound, coughing crimson splatters into their hand and onto the grimy pavement.

The hero takes a slow, deep breath. They bite the inside of their cheek hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste in their mouth anchors them to the present moment. They've stalled for too long; their parent's state is precarious and they need to be treated.

The hero scoops the supervillain up into their arms. It takes a little effort at first, but they manage to find a suitable position for walking. Their parent immediately stiffens and tries to escape their grip with an uncharacteristic panic.

"No, no," they choke out. "No hospital."

"No hospital," the hero acquiesces. They hadn't planned on going to the hospital—it's out of the question for villains like their parent. Even the hero themself has to avoid the hospital sometimes, albeit for different reasons.

The supervillain relaxes slightly. They look rather out of it, and they're not putting up a fight anymore. The hero remains silent as they continue walking, ducking through dark alleyways to avoid being seen.

"This is not... where I saw us spending time together," the supervillain chokes out, blood trickling from their lip. "A bowling alley, an arcade..." They trail off, nostalgia in their voice.

The hero's brows furrow. They haven't been to a bowling alley since their thirteenth birthday—one that their parent was certainly absent for. They've never liked arcades, either: they're too loud and bright. Their jaw clenches. The supervillain has never truly known them, regardless of what they may claim. Blood is all that connects them.

"I think this is supposed to go the other way around," the supervillain remarks helpfully, evidently referring to the hero carrying them. The hero is starting to get annoyed with their commentary.

"Stop saying things like that," they admonish them, continuing along their way. "It's creepy." They look around the corner warily, before proceeding. Truthfully, they're not quite sure where they're going—but they'll have to figure it out soon.

"I don't know how to be a parent."

The hero stops in their tracks, the unexpected confession provoking several unwanted feelings within them. Just how long have they waited to hear the supervillain say that? How long have they waited for an apology that never came? How long has the hero spent, waiting for their own hero to swoop in and save them from their foster home?

They're not sure how long they stand there, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular.

"Where are we going?" The supervillain whispers uncertainly. The remark promptly snaps the hero out of their thoughts, forcing them to focus on the matter at hand. The hero takes a slow breath.

"What's your address?" They demand firmly.

The supervillain has the audacity to look surprised at their command. They must be deluded, if they think the hero is willing to give them their personal address. The supervillain mutters their address and the hero very nearly sighs in relief when they realize how close it is. They had just been following their gut instinct—and, somehow, it led them in the right direction.

Ten minutes later, the hero is standing in front of a locked door. Their arms are burning from the exertion of carrying an adult in their arms. Their parent notices and quickly tries to reach out to the screen at the side of the door, which evidently reads their fingerprint. Their hand doesn't quite make it, leaving the hero to awkwardly adjust them in their arms and use their free hand to press their parent's finger to the reader. The door finally swings open and the hero quickly helps the supervillain down to the couch.

"You have a nice home," the hero says helplessly, struggling to get rid of the tension in the atmosphere that sends goosebumps rising along their skin. They cross their arms over their chest, feeling extraordinarily out of place.

"It could've been ours," the supervillain murmurs. The hero tears their eyes away from them, sickened at their parent's cruelty. The hero wasn't the one to leave. The hero wasn't the one to disappear.

"You weren't there," the hero reminds them bluntly. The supervillain blinks and almost jolts out of their reverie. "And you won't be." They say. The hero isn't sure what the expression on their face is, but it must be suitably distressed, because the supervillain is reaching out to place a weak hand on their forearm.

"I will be." Their parent assures them.

The hero shakes their head silently, a tear crawling from their eye and carving a path down their cheek. Their parent's temple is sweat-soaked and they're growing to look a bit sickly. The hero stares down at them for several minutes, before getting to their feet and finally grabbing their phone from their pocket to call a healer. This particular healer doesn't care who they're healing, as long as they can pay. And judging from the supervillain's lavish home, they can more than afford it.

The healer responds within a few moments and they promise to get there within fifteen minutes. The call ends and the hero's job is done. They've done more than enough at this point. It is their time to leave. They don't belong between these walls; they don't belong in the intimate, personal life their parent has created for themself.

But... the hero can't get themself to move. They're anchored to their parent's side, helplessness clenching their fists and tightening their shoulders. Somehow, they stand there long enough to give the healer ample time to arrive. The door swings open for the healer—indicating they've visited this residence before—and the hero feels their body moving before they can think things through. They're stalking through the unfamiliar house silently, heading into a bedroom with an en suite bathroom and closing the door with a silent click.

The hero can just barely hear the healer beginning their work, talking quietly to themself as they work. The healer thinks themself to be completely alone in the supervillain's residence.

...Meanwhile, the hero surveys the room they now find themself in, thoroughly confused and angry at their own actions. Why didn't they leave when they had the chance? Why did they stay? The supervillain abandoned them for more than a decade, yet the hero can't leave them for a single moment? How many times was the hero left to slowly decay over cracked pavement?

They move to the bathroom connected to the bedroom, finding themself standing in front of a grandiose mirror. Their parent stares back at them, shaking their head as if admonishing them for their remorse and guilt..

The hero wrenches their gaze away and buries their head in their hands, sinking to the floor and pressing their hands to the plush carpet. Their breaths are far too quick and short, leaving their chest burning and saliva slipping from their lips as they try in vain to keep their composure.

Their supervillain is being stitched back together in the next room, leaving the hero to fall apart in this one.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

_____________________

me reading this ask, pretending like I know what happens next: ah... yes... the story I definitely planned for... 😅

ohihohohoh I love how this turned out, though. mwhahahhaha

_____

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello @miashico @pleaseenterbloghere @c4xcocoa

click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

[dadvans]

Eddie + Tommy friendship growth in s8 has the potential to be so good, look, LOOK, listen to me: tommy had to learn how to live alone, while eddie has always been lonely with other people.

Tommy, only child and potential army brat who moved around frequently and was never enough for his dad and grew up lonely lonely lonely, so lonely he made friends with his loneliness, got deep into his hobbies and made friends with his hands and maybe had to learn how to be real friends with someone else through sweat and blood when he entered basic, so he's good at ride-or-die friendships where you'd fight the whole world for someone and he does have a guy for everything, but he was raised in loneliness and is comfortable alone, he hasn't had too many serious adult relationships because he repressed that side of himself for so long that when he did finally allow himself to be with other men maybe it felt like it was too late, so he still needs to make space for himself and the things he enjoys because thats where he's comfortable, and

Eddie, from a big family with a military career and an ex-wife and a kid from when he was still a teenager, who has never, ever had to be alone, but still feels lonely because everyone in his life looks through him to the version of himself they wish he was instead of the solid self he really is, and he's a mess of several identities he's tried to be for other people without knowing who he is outside of them, but he's never really been alone with himself, doesn't know how to be, and he's going crazy with it, drowning in it, feels like a drop in the ocean when he's sitting on the couch at might where he used to be able to hear chris playing games or on a call with his friends, or they'd be watching a movie together or he'd be helping chris with his homework and now all he can hear are the distant sirens and traffic of his neighborhood, the leaky faucet in the kitchen sink dripping and the hum of his old refrigerator

give me platonic male friendship where eddie learns how to be himself because tommy helps him learn to stand the quiet of himself and the joy of doing and being for the sake of self enjoyment, and eddie continuing to be another part of the 118 family that tommy wanted but never got to have. give it to me!!!!!!!!