#but i hope ill get to see it in its future stages!!

[soupdreamer]

art gatsby closes today 😿

[crescenthistory]

c5 with paul atreides please 🫶🫶

ah, paul atreides, my favourite childhood best friends to lovers man. hope this is what you were imagining, love<3

Prompt: C.5 "There will not be a day where I am not there for you"

Words: 3.5k (oops)

Warnings: canon typical political unrest and tension, paul and reader have a lot on their shoulders, reader gets sick, implied chronic illness/flare-up/autoimmune reader but can be read as a normal fever (i'm indulging myself okay), hiding/avoidance, confrontation if you squint, hurt/comfort, they are in the unspoken stage between best friends and lovers, confessions of love, crying session, cuddles and kisses

The days on Caladan felt numbered.

Everywhere you looked, the subtle reminders of impending change crept in like shadows. The halls of Castle Caladan, once warm and full of life, felt quieter now, more solemn. The sea beyond the window still whispered its familiar lullaby, but even that seemed muted, like it was holding its breath, waiting.

Thus, you waited too, feeling the weight of the future settle over the estate like a shroud. Arrakis loomed on the horizon, distant but unavoidable. You could see it in every furrow of Duke Leto’s brow, in the way Lady Jessica moved with a deliberate grace that betrayed her own hidden tension.

Most of all, you saw it in Paul.

Your closest friend, your confidant since childhood. He carried the weight of all that was to come more heavily than anyone. It showed in the slight weariness under his eyes, the way his normally steady hands trembled when he thought no one was looking. He hadn’t spoken of it directly to you, not yet, but you knew him too well to be fooled.

The Paul of your memories – the boy who would laugh with you in secret corners of the castle, who would pull you into the sea on a whim, clothes and all – was slipping away, bit by bit. In his place stood a man, shoulders squared with responsibility, eyes far too wise for someone so young. It was a transformation that frightened you, not just because it meant losing the boy you once knew, but because you weren’t sure whether anyone could truly withstand all that waited him. Whether anyone would even notice how much it was wearing him down. Anyone but you.

It was why you were careful, watching him as you always did, trying to gauge when the weight would become too much. You had become a fixture in his life over the years, someone he could rely on when the pressures of being Duke Leto’s heir seemed too heavy to bear. A constant.

The days leading up to the move to Arrakis felt heavier, their passage marked by subtle shifts in the air. Paul was being pulled in so many directions – meetings, preparations, plans – and you saw him less and less. Worry grew in your stomach, but, as always, the two of you cut out time for each other, even if only a quiet hug for a few minutes in a corner somewhere.

Which is why, when you first felt the dizziness creeping in, the strange bouts of fatigue that left you breathless and weak, you kept it to yourself.

At first, it didn’t seem like much. Just a few moments of light-headedness, easily dismissed. You brushed off the way the room swayed, grounded yourself by gripping the edges of tables or leaning discreetly against the walls. When Paul looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes, you waved it away with a smile, pretending it was nothing. He had enough to worry about – you refused to add to it. Not when he was already carrying so much.

As the days passed, though, it became harder to hide. Your body betrayed you in small ways – your steps slower, your hands unsteady when you reached for things. The ever-present ache in your bones was becoming harder to ignore. You found yourself avoiding the castle’s common spaces, spending more time in your room, curled up in bed, trying to will away the growing sickness that had taken hold of you.

Even the servants noticed, their eyes lingering on you with concern as they brought trays of food you barely touched. It was not uncommon for you to grow sick occasionally, there was a running joke around the castle about your weak immune system, and usually the servants would let Paul know if you stayed in your room. This time, though, you gave them strict instructions not to speak of it to anyone, especially not Paul. He didn’t need to know. He didn’t need this on top of everything else.

You could handle it. You always handled it.

Yes, you kept it to yourself. Unfortunately, to achieve that, you also kept to yourself.

***

The evening sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the walls of your bedroom. You had not left the room in two days. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the golden light that you usually loved. Today, the brightness hurt your eyes, each beam of sunlight sharp as it hit your feverish skin.

You had barely eaten, your appetite vanishing as the sickness rooted itself deeper. It was more than just the fatigue now – your stomach churned, and your head pounded with every small movement. Beams of pain adorned your lower forehead, temples and eyesockets, and no amount of massaging seemed to help.

You told yourself the words Paul had always whispered to you on days like this; it will be fine, it is temporary, you are safe. You just need some rest.

It didn't have the same effect.

As you shifted under the blankets, trying to find a more comfortable position, you heard a quiet knock on the door. You froze. The knock was too familiar – soft, hesitant, but with a certainty that told you exactly who it was. Your tried to bite down a groan all the while your heart squeezed.

It was Paul.

This was the longest period of time you had gone without seeing each other in ages, and not from a lack of trying on his part. You knew his schedule by heart and had purposefully lived around it for the past week before you finally caved and retreated to your bed to get over this bout of sickness. Even there, you had the servants tell him you were elsewhere, should he ever ask them.

It was not that you did not miss him terribly nor a disdain for him seeing you sick – you had worked together to get over equating sickness with weakness in your head. However, a part of you clearly still saw it as a burden, because your heart ached at the thought of worrying him with this.

You could not hide forever, though, and now here he was. You felt oddly unprepared to face him as you scurried up, fixing your hair and trying to put on a more assured smile.

When you didn't respond to the knock, the door creaked open slightly, and Paul slipped inside. His eyes found you immediately, and you could see the worry in them as he took in your pale face and the heap of blankets surrounding you that seemed to scream I am hiding from the world.

"Hi, my love," he whispered, and you responded with a greeting yourself, sounding weaker than you had hoped.

He closed the door quietly behind him, his movements deliberate and calm, but you could sense the tension beneath his composed exterior.

“You’ve been avoiding me." His voice was low, soft but with a quiet accusation woven through it.

You swallowed, trying to summon the energy to continue to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. “No, no, I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied. “I’ve just been… resting.”

Paul’s brow furrowed slightly, and he crossed the room with slow, careful steps until he stood at the edge of your bed. He looked down at you, his gaze searching, as if he could see through the weak façade you were putting up. He sat down beside you on the bed, body angled towards you, and reached for your hand.

His touch was gentle, cool against your feverish skin. “Resting...” he echoed, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “Because you're sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You flinched inwardly. Of course, he knew. He always knew. Paul was nothing if not observant, especially when it came to you. You had been foolish to think you could hide this from him for long.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admitted, voice barely a whisper. “You have so much going on right now. With Arrakis, with your father… I just didn’t want to add to your burdens.”

Paul’s expression softened, though the worry in his eyes remained. He shook his head slightly, as if unable to comprehend what you were saying. “You think you can ever be a burden to me?”

You didn’t respond immediately, because a part of you did feel like a burden, no matter how irrational it may be. Paul had so much on his plate already – how could you possibly ask him to worry about you on top of everything else?

Paul’s hand tightened around yours at your prolonged silence, attempting to ground you, pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. He sighed, a soft, weary sound, and then he spoke, his voice tinged with a quiet desperation you hadn’t expected.

“You are not a burden, my love. There will not be a day where I am not there for you – you just have to let me.”

The words hit you like a wave, gentle but powerful, their weight sinking deep into your chest. Paul’s gaze never left you even when yours flickered from nerves. In that moment, you saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he meant it with every part of him. There was a fierce honesty in his voice, a promise.

"I'm sorry, Paul," you began, unsure of how to phrase yourself. "I just really did not want to worry you more than you already are."

“I was more worried when I didn’t see you,” he continued softly. “When I didn’t know what was wrong. To not know how you are or what is going on hurts more than anything else.”

Your breath caught in your throat, guilt and relief swirling together in a confusing mixture. You hadn’t realized how much your absence could affect him. Paul always seemed so steady, so unshakable, but now, as he sat beside you, his hand still holding yours with that familiar tenderness, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. There was a fear there that you wanted to smooth away, the fear of losing you, of not being able to help.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, dragging your intertwined hands closer to your body. "I didn’t mean to make things harder for you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Paul sighed again, this time softer, and he shifted closer, so his side was flush against yours. You moved some of the blankets around so there would be no barricade for him, your breathing somehow already easier at his presence. His hand left yours only for a moment, but you immediately missed the warmth of his touch. He reached up to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were forced to meet his gaze again.

“You could never make things harder for me. You are what make things easier” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “You are my anchor. Without you…”

He trailed off, but the weight of what he didn’t say hung in the air between you. Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, the pressures of his future, of the impending move to Arrakis, might consume him entirely.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of him. Paul saw the flicker of emotion and leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his closeness comforting in a way that words could never be.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was a whisper, eyes searching yours. "Be honest."

You let out an almost teary-laugh, overwhelmed by emotion. "Terrible, quite frankly. My body is aching and I feel like I'm on a boat."

Paul hummed, thumb still brushing your cheek. "Would it help to lay further down?" He always knew.

You tried to nod, but frowned when the movement caused you more pain. Paul immediatley leaned forward to kiss away the furrow of your brows, knowing the tension usually worsens your headache, and then went to help you lay down in a better position. With your heads laid on the same pillow, Paul held your waist with one hand and your face with another, trying to massage out any tension.

“You don’t have to protect me,” he whispered, voice low and steady, wrapping around you as much as his comforting embrace. “Not from this. Not from you. Even now, with everything – especially now actually – you are the one thing I need.”

His words settled over you, soothing the ache in your chest, yet stirring something deeper, something raw that you had tried so hard to suppress. The weight of everything – the move, the sickness, your unwavering care for him – all of it was bearing down on you, but hearing Paul speak with such sincerity, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, it made something inside you break. The kind of break you could only do around him, because you knew in your heart you were safe to do so.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the tears that had been threatening to spill finally break free. A small sob escaped your throat before you could stop it, and suddenly, it was as if the floodgates had opened. The tears came in earnest now, unbidden and unstoppable, all the emotions you had kept hidden pouring out.

Paul didn’t flinch, he didn’t pull away. Instinctively he pulled you closer to him, gathering you gently into his chest, his movements slow and careful, so as to not hurt or startle you. He held you close, head against his chest, his warmth enveloping you, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. He moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he whispered soft, soothing words you couldn’t quite make out over the sound of your own quiet sobs.

You had not realised just how much you had been holding in until this moment, how badly you had needed him. The world outside felt too heavy, too uncertain, but here, in his arms, you felt safe. The weight you had been carrying melted away, leaving only the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

“I’m here,” Paul murmured softly, his voice soothing, as if the words themselves could hold you together. “I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere, I'm with you.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, letting the sound of his voice calm the storm of emotions inside you. The soft, rhythmic strokes of his fingers in your hair, the way his hand pressed gently into the small of your back, holding you against him. Everything about his presence was grounding, reminding you that you are not alone. You never had been.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a long moment, your voice thick with emotion, though the tears had finally begun to slow. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Shh,” he interrupted gently, his lips brushing the top of your head in the softest of gestures. “You don’t need to apologise.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes still glassy from the tears. His face was close, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His usually composed features, now filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek, and he offered you a small, reassuring smile.

“I was just trying to give you space,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “You’ve been dealing with so much, and I didn’t want to add to it.”

Paul’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he fundamentally could not understand how you could view yourself or your relationship that way. His hand still rested on your cheek, his touch light but steady.

“I know what’s happening around us is overwhelming,” he admitted, careful, like he didn’t want the weight of the words to fall too heavily between you. “But I’m not leaving Caladan behind to face Arrakis alone. I need you with me. In spirit as much as in person.”

“Oh, Paul,” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a quiet confession. You searched his eyes, unsure of what to say, unsure if you could even find the words for everything you were feeling. You moved one of your hands that was clutching his shirt up to trace his face.

You could see in his eyes that he knew everything you wanted to say. He had always known.

“I’ve always needed you, my love,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering, the intensity of his words cutting through the quiet of the room. “Not just now. Not because of Arrakis. I’ve needed you for as long as I can remember. Please just let me.”

The tears that had begun to dry on your cheeks threatened to return, but this time, they weren’t tears of sorrow or guilt. They were tears of relief, of knowing you never had and never would be alone in your care for him. Paul is there for you, just as you are there for him. Paul will worry for you, just as you were there for him.

"I'll let you, if you let me." There was a slight teasing smile on your lips, though its effect was lessened my the glossiness that remained in your eyes.

"I swear to."

You hummed, ducking your head back down to hide in his neck, breathing both him and the moment in.

“I'm afraid of it,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling. “Afraid of just how much I need you, even if you need me too.”

Paul’s expression softened even more, if that was possible. He gently tugged your face back up to meet his, so he could rest his forehead against yours and cup your cheek. His closeness was dizzying – but you much preferred this form of dizziness. You felt tethered to him in a way you had never felt with anyone else, like the two of you were the only ones in this vast, overwhelming world who truly understood one another.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured, lips almost brushing yours due to your proximity. “Not with me.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing against his as you looked into his eyes. His thumb brushed across your cheek again, his touch as soft as ever, and before you could stop yourself, before you could dare to think twice, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a tentative, gentle kiss.

Paul responded immediately, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate tenderness. The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic – it was filled with years of unspoken longing, of quiet moments that had been leading up to this. It was a kiss that felt like home, like something you had been waiting for without even realising it.

When you pulled back, your foreheads still resting together, both of you breathing softly, you felt the weight of everything lift, if only for a moment. It all faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, together, in the quiet safety of this moment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, echoing the unspoken promise between you. “Not without you.”

Paul’s lips quirked into a small, almost boyish smile, the kind you hadn’t seen from him in so long. He pulled you into his chest again, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, reassuring embrace. You could feel the tension leaving his body, as if holding you like this had given him the strength he had been searching for.

"Take care of me, Paul?" you whispered, knowing now that this is what he needed.

He sighed, relieved, whispering a yes, please into your hair before placing a series of kisses there, holding you unbelievably tighter. His hands went back to massaging your neck and temples, moving languidly as he did anything he could think of to make you more comfortable in the moment.

For a long while, neither of you said anything. You simply stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your door quiet and distant. This was the kind of rest you had truly been needing.

“I will always be here for you,” Paul whispered against your hair again, as if he needed to reassure himself of it. “I swear it.”

"And I you, my love."

You held him closer, letting your eyes drift shut and your body aches ease. You let yourself believe him. Because you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just another comforting assurance. It was a vow, one that would last long beyond the move to Arrakis. 

No matter what storms came, no matter what weight the future held, you and Paul would face them together.

[pillow-princess-diaries]

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒! 𝚇 𝙰𝙵𝙰𝙱!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛...

Scenario: your lovely and charming boyfriend has a dark secret; but you’re chill with it~

Pairing: Serial Killer! Dazai X AFAB! Reader

Genre: Smut

Type: scenario in hc format

W/C: 1.07k (i think😭)

T/W: murder (kinda obvious 🥲),slight yandere-like behavior mentioned,kinda public sex (they fuck in a warehouse),gunplay,blowjob,cum eating,cockwarming,dirty talk, a little bit of degradation (slut,degenerate) a little bit of bein in a mating press,aftercare☺️ (please lmk if i missed anything!🙏)

A/N: hey yall!! Inspiration finally hit me and voila! Hope yall like it and see ya in the next one!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DON'T FOLLOW, YOU'LL BE BLOCKED!

Serial Killer Dazai! Who comes off so lovely sweet and nice! Your parents,friends,EVERYONE LOVE HIM!

Serial Killer Dazai! Who gets borderline yandere like for you.he loves you and he needss to keep you safe,especially from people like him.but most importantly he needs you to not leave because he needs at least one good thing in his life dammit!

Serial Killer Dazai! Who suddenly gets awkward around you…he’s hiding something and you know he’s good at that…the fact that he’s letting you notice is a sign he wants you to ask him what it is

Serial Killer Dazai! who tells you what he is and what he does,he has (crocodile)tears in his eyes as he tells you, hes so scared you’ll leave him! (No he’s not~he knows you cant leave not while he’s in charge)

Serial Killer Dazai! who’s genuinely surprised when you kiss his tears away,telling him it’s okay and you dont mind. Hes so stunned! And definitely loves that you’re just as fucked up as he is.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who asks you if you wanna come out ‘hunting’ with him.even lets you pick the victim sometimes!!!

Serial Killer Dazai! Who sets up a seat and makeshift stage for you to watch your show.it’s in an old warehouse so no one will even disturb you~

Serial Killer Dazai! who absolutely dements his victims,the look of fascination and curiosity on your face fueling his sadistic behavior.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who notices you shift uncomfortably in your seat,your thighs clamping together and rubbing oh so subtly.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who gets hard at the sight and quickly finishes the kill to get back to you~

Serial Killer Dazai! Who gets his bloody gun,and cleaning it before he stores it for future use;who unbuckles his pants as he makes his way to you.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who hovers above your seated form, his clothed erection at your eye level.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who kneels before you and carasses your cheek saying, “shh bella…relax…ill take care of you~” before kissing you passionately. His skilled tongue exploring the expanse of your mouth.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who pulls aways for air,a single thread of saliva connecting the two of you.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who puts his thumb in your mouth for to suck. you do and his fingers taste vaguely metallic from holding the gun.

Serial Killer Dazai! who cant help but snap a quick picture of you before pulling out his finger and licking it before ordering you to get up,taking your seat and pulling out his pistol. He undoes his pants and underwear ,his cock springing free,precum already leaking from its tip.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who cocks the gun and smirks when you instantly get to your knees and pump his erection before blowing him.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who relishes in the feeling of your mouth around his length ,he holds the loaded gun to your head,the gasp of fear sending a pleasant vibration along his cock, “do me well bella,maybe ill let you cum tonight~”

Serial Killer Dazai! who ,feeling his first release coming on, hold your head down and thrusts up lightly, making you gag, before cumming down your throat.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who makes you swallow every last drop,the idea if his release filling you up in more ways than one driving him insane. “You’re such a fuxking slut for me arent you?you fuxking degenerate” he moans as he sees you swallow.

Serial Killer Dazai! who instructs you to sit on his dick and ride him.who puts the gun in your mouth,ordering you to suck it as you cockwarm. His occasional thrusts causing you to gag on the metallic weapon.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who isnt satisfied and picks you up by the ass (his cock still buried in your cunt) and pins you against a wall.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who brings your legs up around his waist and begins to relentlessly pound into you. In and out so fast its making you go cross-eyed! (He loves the sight~)

Serial Killer Dazai! who begins to work your neglected clit with the tip of his gun. The cold metal sending shivers from your pussy all through your body.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who locks you in a mating press,you jolt against the wall and your pretty moans resonate all through the empty warehouse.

Serial Killer Dazai! who brings your attention to the body right behind you both. He leans in close saying, “did ya enjoy that one bella? Did you see the fear in his eyes? Did it make you wet?” (All rhetorical questions of course)

Serial Killer Dazai! Who’s voice lowers, becoming gentler,raspier as he says,“did i do good? Did you…like it? Did i make you proud?” This wasnt the man who’d been killing a random accountant from the bar moments ago…no. It was him in his most vulnerable form,a child seeking to do good.to be the best

Serial Killer Dazai! Whose eyes darken the moment you nod, and just like that he was back to his usual self,he thrust back into you, “Good.now cum for me you little slut🖤” he says,kissing you passionately, an oddly love filled gesture in a rather lustful scenario.

Serial Killer Dazai! who moans your name as you cum around his cock,he reaches his climax not long after and the feeling gets him moaning even louder.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who lets you down and pulls your panties back up,your cum-stuffed hole still leaking from both of your releases.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who casually makes you rest back on the chair as he drenches the body in gasoline before promptly dropping a lit match into it.he steps back, and admires his handiwork before turning back to you and askin if you’re okay.

Serial Killer Dazai! Who carries you back to his car and drives u both home.who gives you a lovely bath to wash off the blood,cum and dirt (you come out of it with a few more hickeys than you went in with, but its fineeee)

And finally, Serial Killer Dazai! Who gets into his paw patrol pjs before cuddling up to you and holding you close. He’s forever greatful for you and will never stop thanking the stars for blessing him with an absolute angel.

Tag list(open):- @diagonal-queen @sapphic-serenade

All rights reserved © 2023 pillow-princess-diaries. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[primussavethesemechs]

I want the human/cybertronian life difference to be talked about more in canon

Cuz I mean. it’s RIGHT THERE.

Just a smidgen of true acknowledgment I BEG YOU HASBRO‼️

i mean come on all it takes is someone mentioning how long the wars been going for one of the humans to go “4 MILLION YEARS???? WHAT THE FUCK HOW OLD ARE YOU???”

And optimus or ratchet to be like “…5/7 million?” And all of the humans to have a break down CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN ALIVE SINCE BEFORE THE HUMAN SPECIES EXISTED??? WE WERE MONKEYS WHEN YOU WERE BORN???

And the (woefully uniformed) cybertronians to be like “??? What do YOU mean your species was still evolving when I onlined, how long do you guys live?? A thousand?? A few hundred??”

And the gobsmacked humans to be like “??? NO WE HARDLY LIVE OVER A HUNDRED ITS CONSIDERED AN ACCOMPLISHMENT?? AVERAGE OLD AGE DEATH IS LIKE MID 80s!! TECHNICALLY THE AVERAGE LIFE SPAN IS 72 OR SOMETHING???”

Cue the autobots being like “😨 72??? THATS A CHILD WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT⁉️”

the more attached/emotional bots looking at their charges and realizing that not only are they sparklings compared to them but they’ll die as sparklings too in just a few decades, causing them to straight up have a mini meltdown.

Yeah they’re in a war and they’ve lost plenty of friends, but never to anything as predictable and inescapable as old age.

It’s the seeing-it-coming part that gets to them, the slow dread of knowing that even if they do everything right and keep them out of danger and they stay healthy there’s nothing they can do to stop them from withering away in a couple of decades.

Most versions of bumblebee looking at their charge/friend and realizing his assumptions about the fact that since they’re both still young that they’ll have plenty of time to just. Live together and have fun- are wrong?? Immediately tears. Even if cybertronians can’t cry tears he’s doing whatever the equivalent is and running away to cry in his room. And then running back to snatch them and take them with him cuz HE CANT WASTE A SECOND IF THEIR LIFESPANS ARE REALLY THAT SHORT HES GONNA JUST HAVE TO SPEND 24/7 WITH THEM

This whole concept ESPECIALLY applies to TFP since all of them got their own little human buddy and there’s only like 5 autobots to begin with (of the main season 1 crew) they’ve lost so many of their own so recently, their numbers are already dwindling down to nothing, they’re losing the war and the kids are what’s given them a major morale boost. To continue fighting they need hope, and the kids have kind of become their hope for the future- to know they’ll die off in under a century despite how young they still are is a shot to the spark.

Look me in the eye and tell me bee wouldnt panic hearing that Raf only has 70-80 years to live. LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME HE WOULDNT HAVE SOME KIND OF FIT OVER BEING TOLD THAT HIS LITTLE BUDDY (from a cybertronian perspective) HAS A LIFESPAN EQUIVALENT TO A LATE STAGE TERMINAL ILLNESS DIAGNOSIS. Bee would start treating Raf like a kid with stage 4 cancer 😭

I just KNOW bulkhead would have the worst reaction other than bee, maybe even worse cuz he looks at miko and realizes she’s used up basically a fifth of her entire lifespan already and she’s Still So Little and straight up starts weeping. That’s his DAUGHTER you can’t take her from him so soon it’s not FAIR! He might have to go destroy a canyon wall or something to let some of the anger and grief out

Arcee is Not taking it well either.

She JUST got attached to this one, just got used to a new partner and your telling her that no matter what she does he’s never going to last as long as tailgate of cliff jumper did?? Even if both he and she do everything they’re supposed to do to protect him and extended his life?? Depression time baby

Optimus and ratchet don’t react as much outwardly to the news as the others but inside they’re both 💔💥

These kids have brought optimus a level of contentment he hasn’t felt in vorns, and he sees how bright their spirits shine- Only to now know those precious spirits will burn out in less than a century- it gnaws at him inside, yet another strike from the cruelty of fate

Ratchet is devastated but refuses to acknowledge it, these kids- yes even miko- have become his pseudo grandkids and he’s not ready, nor will he ever be ready, to outlive them. Jacks reminds him too much of a younger optimus, still learning and still hopeful. Miko is… well she has a fire to her that ratchet can appreciate (when she’s not actively annoying him) she’s determined enough to make anything happen which he does begrudgingly respect even if he wishes she wouldn’t just throw herself into any and every situation just for fun.

And Raf…

Raf is his apprentice, the only one of the kids to understand him and listen intently to his stories of cybertron. To show appreciation for his work and his ideas, to Listen and Learn and Improve his inventions. He harbors the most fondness for Raf since he sees so much potential in him, and has taken him under his wing in teaching him cybertronian language and biology.

He feels almost like he’s training a student to take his place- only for the ground to be ripped out from under him to know that Raf will never have the chance to succeed him, will never even outlive him.

A parent should never have to bury their child, and ratchet already feels that he has.

-

TLDR the autobots find out humans have fruit fly lifespans next to them and become one big soggy mess of tears, optimus and ratchet included although they try to have a stiff upper lip about it (and fail to varying extents)

I swear this was supposed to be about any and all continuities but TFP took over completely😭 idk it just fits the best since they focus so much on how attached the bots get to the kids

Edit: btw this was inspired from the fact I found out that the cybertronian equivalent to a year (yes I know technically they have solar cycles which are roughly a human year but what they consider a year vs their lifespan/time perception is different) is a vorn. A vorn is 80 HUMAN YEARS. I saw that and went “oh wow a vorn is like a whole human lifespan!😃” and then I went “OH A VORN IS A WHOLE HUMAN LIFESPAN 😀“

[molluskmirage]

I have been deeply perturbed by the revelation that the qsmp egg admins (and other admins) have been unpaid. Anyone but particularly young folks are taken advantage of a lot in the working sphere and it makes me feel deeply ill.

The amount of love those admins have clearly had for this smp and what it stands for is absolutely highlighted all the more. Every time they were on especially if not ‘required’ by plot, thats just pure love. Love for loves sake. And it kills me to know all the obstacles they may have faced irl to work on something purely for passion.

no money. no fame. no name. Every egg always fell quiet upon jokes or jests of there payment. No sass because there was nothing. Nothing to show their families nothing to fund this ‘lifestyle choice’ thats a job that doesnt pay. Being characters synonymous with the series, begged for, all the while with nothing. While the streamer they attend to is getting dono’s they preform on screen. Their streamers meet together offline at big events, while they’re not even supposed to communicate over call with one another. Left behind with nothing, if they want merch from the streamer they hangout with day in and out they must buy it from there own pocket.

(speculation on my part but Dappers admin started getting burnt out around summer, they also hinted at building things behind the scenes, did they do so because that was paid work? Man so many little moments make my stomach turn)

this is a very serious matter.

this isnt to make everything either good or evil. People not getting paid for the work they do is bad. While I can hold the hope and hold accountable that the right thing (in payment and back payment) will and must be done, I hold it very dear when I say there is damage. Nearly an entire year these wonderful human beings have worked for nothing. The same or more work the streamer they are accompanying is praised for. So much goes on in a year that having no pay to show for work done is appalling and detrimental towards. It makes my skin crawl with all the possibilities behind the scenes. I am both incredibly angry and upset.

I do not know how Quackity was unaware. I am ignorant on how that is the case. I will believe it as the admin’s statements have been so but I am deeply disappointed. I do not believe him ‘evil’ he is human but people who are under his name are not having their needs met and I take that very seriously. His mission is good his love is good but this absolutely must be rectified. Not of criticism but of fact it must be done.

young people get taken advantage of so often and quackity himself could be swept up into that category, I am unaware of the particulars behind the project but as its in q’s name he is the one I am looking towards.

I have no particular ills to speak about quackity other then this topic, once resolved can be forgiven but I find it more disheartening how many wish to downplay severity or that they themselves would be happy to work for free. Those attitudes perpetuate cycles of abuse. I so hope for a future were folks come to know their worth and how precious there time, energy and love really is, and that those abusing do better and honor that work or else suffer a downfall.

So sick of people being taken advantage of.

I do think things can be fixed but that does not negate that this is a very serious subject (to me personally). I can believe something is good but requires fixing without it being synonymous with bad or evil. If somethings broke you fix it and its fine. Right now its broke, were in the fixing stage so I reserve judgement upon why this occurred until presented with the fix.

I do not like to villainize or dramatize these people or situations, this topic is serious and needs appropriate care. This can be done. I have faith. What I dont like to see is downplaying needs or making monsters of men.

People need pay for their work.

[jiminsproof]

tag game 📺

I was tagged by Heather @summerwave to list 10 TV shows so that you besties could get to know me better! Thank you my dear, hope that this week has been good to you so far 💗🫂

Here goes:

Hannibal (nobody is surprised). I'm obsessed with this series, I know dialogues by heart, probably my ultimate favourite. I don't even know how many times I watched it but it's a LOT. Especially season 3, my favourite (where does the difference between the past and the future come from? ... mine? before you and after y- [gets dragged off stage])

Good Omens. I have just recently watched season 2 and it ripped my heart out in the best way possible!! I loved it, very cathartic, can't wait for s3 to fix this mess though 😭

Fleabag. Another TV series that I've watched very recently but moved me in many ways! Really heartbreaking and hilarious at the same time!!

The Untamed. One of the best character development I've seen! I loved how everyone got to explain their side of things, it was very refreshing and interesting to see. ALSO LAN XICHEN IS MY CHILD (and Wuxian obviously, mental illness bisexual king, also shoutout to the best line ever aka: If I am doomed to death, then I could at least be killed by you, that would be worth it 💯💯💯😧😧😧🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 ATE. PEAK ROMANCE)

Killing Eve. I hated the ending but I loved the series for most of it! And I especially loved Eve's journey in this, it was so fascinating to watch her change!

Bad Buddy. Such an amazing TV series aka modern (and gay) retelling of Romeo and Juliet!

Word of Honor. I honestly think this series (similarly to The Untamed) has one of the best character development I've ever seen and it makes up for all its (more technical) shortcomings. I love the main characters and how they do not truly fit the hero archetype! Very refreshing. Heartbreaking in many ways, also fascinating female characters. It's all about unconditional love bro and breaking free of the harmful patterns created by a traumatic past- [gets booed, leaves in shame]

Love is Blind. Had to add in something silly as well 🤣 It's a reality show in which people fall in love not seeing each other. I will never understand straight people, this show is hilarious. I watch it for the memes

Sharp Objects. Incredible show with just the best female characters and allusions to mythology. Deals with a lot of dark topics and has an amazing plot twist! I loved its atmosphere.

Heartstopper. Despite having watched it only recently, I absolutely loved its depiction of queerness! Especially the refreshing treatment of bisexuality, which sometimes is lost even in BL dramas I've watched so far. Lovely!

Honourable mentions: Crash Landing on You, Kinnporsche, Vincenzo, It's Okay not to be Okay

Tagging some of my lovelies and giving each and every one of you the biggest hug!! 🫂 Also no pressure: @aprylynn, @blueside-hobi, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @kimchokejin, @banghwa, @india-stoker, @lyubins, @nodtnutthasid, @platypusplayhere, @raplinenthusiasts, @seraphjimin, @young-jae. 💗

[luminlunii]

I have some more details on Sedgewick in Trek for the Truth! Now, two things before I continue. One, no, there are NO horrible sexual things going on here or anywhere else in this AU! Because, I maybe mean with this AU, but I'm not THAT mean! I'm not putting the characters through that. Plus, that just makes me uncomfy, because reasons. So, we're just going to pretend that those horrible things like that don't exist in this AU! Unrealistic? Sure, but I just don't want it. Second, before anyone calls out any unrealistic issues like how humans might be cruel, but they would recognize this as slavery at this point. Regardless of how they feel/see the fictional characters. You're right, they would and it's still against the law in this universe. That being said, this type of situation I'm about to tell you, with the facility and this place, is like a Dark Web exchange. With that, I will continue. I told you he escapes and lost his hand, but there's more to Sedewick from when he was pawned off to another experimentation facility to his departure. He was pawned off to one of the worst, if not the worst experimentation facilities. Because this one, instead of letting illnesses or over experimentation take its course, they fucking have an auction for the ones that aren't sick. So they can take in more characters in they pick up. At the moment, this might be the only one that does this, but that might change in the future. It depends. Sedgewick, being not sick, was one of those people. He was auctioned off to this abusive rich asshole human to be his personal butler. However, there was still some hope. Since, what this guy is doing is still illegal, even in human terms. All that would need to happen is for this guy's actions to be brought to light and it'd be over. That's what Wick tried to do while he was there. Not just for himself, but for the other characters there in the same situation as him. Despite the very glaring warning signs he shouldn't. He starts to collect evidence, have a documentation diary of all the fucked things that happen there. One day, he "accidentally" leaves it behind with a note saying "Help us" at the dry cleaning. A good person, found it and reported it to the police. The police were only doing their job this time and investigated the situation. However, sadly for Sedgewick, this happened before. So, this guy was prepared and made it look really good favor in his favor. Like painting Wick as a disgruntled underpaid employee and a whole bunch of other things. Cops took that and left. If you're wondering, right after this, yes, this is how Wick loses his hand (or paw?). The guy cut off his hand as a punishment for daring to reach out at all. So, here comes the escape. However, I have like two ways it went down and I'm not sure which one to take for Wick. One is where he poisons all the humans at a party and takes everyone away from there. The other is he stages a coo,the place a blaze and taking everyone away from there. Which one sounds more like something Wick were to do if he were pushed to that point? Either way, he's left and took the other characters with him and ended up at the halfway houses in Canada. Which are part of the organization and are typically resting places for escapees from the facilities to rest before going to the organization. Though, sometimes the non sick ones stay to help the ones who are too sick to be mobile right away. Which is what Wick does.

So sorry I took so long to get back to you Anon! I've been busy with other stuff. :(

I agree with the first point, I can see why you wouldn't want stuff like that in your AU.

And your second point

Holy shit Wick loses a hand.

I don't think Wick has the capacity to stage a coup d'etat. French has so many vowels. So, I think the first option would suit Wick. He's a rich man, so I imagine he's proficient enough to pull off mass poisoning.

[digimon-smashorpass]

Hello!

I'm Mod V (any pronouns), and I also want to join in on the smash or pass pokemon fun but with Digimon. I love Digimon and think this might help spread some love for it on tumblr, even if it's all just silly. Even if you know very little about Digimon, I hope you come opinionated lol. I might even save the data and do a silly little bracket when it's all done, but that is for the future me to fiddle with when the time comes.

However, I am trying to decide how to post each poll as digimon don't really have a set numbering system, so this is part intro, part preliminary poll!

Choice explanations:

Evolution stage order: I post every digimon that is listed as Baby first, then move on to the next stage up. Start with ones like Upamon and then go to Agumon after those are done, then on to Greymon etc

Pop Icons to Nobodies: I post digimon like Agumon first, basically anyone that most people might know im a broad sense ("ive seen them!" Sorta thing) and then I get weirder with it

Alphabetical: exactly as it says on the tin. I got through a compiled list starting with A.

Easy to Hard: I post the most humanlike ones first and then devolve from there

No Preference: ultimately, it wont matter to you and ill have to make a choice

Also, secondary question (optional): would people like to see what i predicted and if the poll matches my thought when its over? (Aka i reblog with whether or not tumblr defys my expectations or not)

[feyhunter78]

Moonflowers (4/16)

Description: Targaryen family dinners never go well

Helaena would get a semblance of an answer sooner than she believed. She’d been in the middle of eating a particularly well-seasoned dish of mashed potatoes, when her father stood, using his cane to support him.

“It warms my heart to see all of my family here to celebrate the marriage of my son Aemond and his beautiful bride, Lady Alyra. I can only hope your marriage is as happy as mine was with my dearest Aemma.” He paused, lifting his goblet, and her mother coughed sharply. “Oh yes, and of course, as happy as my marriage to your wonderful mother is.” He raised his goblet towards her brother and friend. “To Aemond and Alyra.”

Echoes of their names came from around the table, and Helaena noticed the way Alyra stared at her plate, picking at the food. She leaned over, thankful they’d been seated close together. “Not hungry?”

“I fear if I eat, I will be sick.” Alyra whispered miserably, poking at the mashed potatoes, a shared favorite dish between them.

Helaena gave her hand a quick squeeze, she remembered this stage of pregnancy, how she longed to be able to eat her favorite foods but would become ill after the first bite.

A servant came by and carefully took Alyra’s plate and set a bowl in its place. “Prince Jacaerys asked for us to bring this to you. It’s a simple broth made with red raspberry leaf and ginger root, the Princess Rhaenyra had it made constantly when she was with child.”

Helaena’s heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness of Jacaerys’ gesture and sent him a small smile. He tipped her goblet towards her from across the table before he returned to his conversation with his cousin Baela.

Alyra took a tentative sip of the soup and waited a moment before relaxing into her chair. “Thank the gods, this soup is delicious.” She held out a spoonful towards Helaena who dipped her head forward and tasted the soup as well. Alyra was right, it had a pleasant taste, not too strong but not weak enough to make her yearn for more flavorful foods. She wished she had this recipe when she was last with child.

“If he is so kind to me, his pregnant nonblood sister, think of how kind he would be to his future wife when she’s carrying his child.” Alyra commented casually as she took another sip of her soup.

Helaena glanced over at Jacaerys who had his head bowed in conversation with Baela, a flash of something nasty shot through her, Baela with her beautiful curls and warm brown skin. She’d grown into a stunning and well-spoken woman, and her confidence and strength leagues beyond Helaena’s. This was never something that had bothered Helaena before. But now as she watched them talk, Baela’s hand finding its way to rest on Jacaerys’ arm, she felt an unfamiliar anger grow inside her. One that quickly died and crumpled into a pit of insecurity when Jacaerys laughed at something Baela said, his hand coming to cover her own.

She was wrenched out of her thoughts when Aemond stood and raised his goblet. “I thank you, father, for your well wishes.” He turned to Alyra, “my dear wife, do you remember what I promised you that night we confessed our love for each other?”

Alyra let out a nervous giggle, “of course I do, you promised you would marry me.” Her hand found Helaena’s, and she held it tightly. “You are so silly to think I would forget that, my love.” She slipped into Denouan, quickly saying “ brother” her eyes darting across the table to Jacaerys.

The Denouan word for brother was one of the few words Helaena had been able to master, and Helaena made note of the way Jacaerys began to quietly push his chair back, his umber-colored eyes watching Aemond carefully.

Aemond nodded to a servant, who brought forth a covered silver platter. “And what else did I promise you?”

Helaena had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Alyra giggled again, her laugh strained and anxious, and began to rise from her seat as if she was getting ready to flee.

Aemond whipped off the cover and Helaena screamed, pushing frantically against the table to get away from the bloody head of Alyra’s former betrothed. Her dress got caught under her chair leg, and she was trapped, tugging at the fabric with a strength she didn’t know she possessed.

“Let me help you.” Jacaerys said, his voice calm as he kneeled down and untangled her gown before pulling out her seat and helping her stand.

“I promised I would give you his head as a wedding gift, did I not?” Aemond chuckled, taking the head by its hair and holding it aloft.

“I’m going to be sick.” Alyra moaned, pushing past her husband, who dropped the head and rushed after her.

The head rolled and landed at Helaena’s feet, and she stumbled backwards. The chaos was too much, her heart was racing, and her head was spinning, the sound of people screaming, and even one or two sounds of laughter had her covering her ears, tears pricking at her eyes.

Two warm hands guided her away from the table and into a darkened corner, “Helaena it’s alright, just keep your eyes on me.” Jacaerys said, his hands running up and down her arms soothingly.

Helaena focused on him, his chiseled jaw, the light freckles that were splayed across his face, his soft pink lips, the steady rise and fall of his chest. She came up to just under his chin when she stood tall, but now with her slouched posture her view of the room was blocked by his broad chest and shoulders.

She slowly lowered her arms, and he intertwined their hands. “All is well, my flower, we shall stay here until they’ve gotten rid of your brother’s gift to my sister.”

Helaena nodded wordlessly and tried to calm her breathing, but everyone was still yelling, and her mind couldn’t focus on one thing. Whether it was boldness or the fear, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

“I know flower, I know.” He repeated soothingly, his warm hands rested on her back, keeping her secure against him.

Helaena took a deep breath; he smelled like forest air and leather, with a hint of dragon. She let it calm her, keeping her nose pressed into his tunic until her breathing became calm once more. She felt his grip tighten, and he buried his face in her hair, seemingly doing the same thing she was. She thanked The Seven she’d let Alyra comb rose oil into her hair before dinner.

“What in the Seven Hells were you thinking?” Her father’s voice was angry, and she buried her face further into Jacaerys’ chest.

“I thought it would be a nice gift for my wife, she found the idea quite appealing when it was first discussed.” Aemond drawled, unfazed by their father’s anger.

“Where is Helaena? Where is my daughter?” Her mother’s voice was panicked, and she knew she would have to leave the safety of Jacaerys’ embrace.

Jacaerys pulled back and brushed a kiss to her forehead. “She’s right here, my queen.” He looked over his shoulder as he called to her mother. “Right where she should be.” He whispered, and Helaena couldn’t tell if she was meant to hear his words or not.

She reluctantly released her grip on him and stepped to the side to see Aemond rubbing Alyra’s upper back, her head was down pillowed by her folded arms that rested on the table in front of her. Her soup pushed away, and a look of remorse on Aemond’s face. Her father stood speaking with Rhaenyra and Harwin, while Daemon and Aegon drank silently.

“Oh, my darling girl, are you alright?” Her mother embraced her, pulling her from Jacaerys.

“Yes, mother, I’m alright, Jacaerys protected me.” She glanced over at Jacaerys who gave her a brief head nod then made his way back to his mother.

“Jacaerys?” Her mother said, as if she hadn’t even noticed the brunet’s earlier presence.

“Yes, he helped me get away from the…head, and then kept me calm.”

Alicent sighed and ran her fingers through Helaena’s hair, smoothing out any tangles. “Well, that was very kind of him.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling as if praying for strength. “I shall have to thank his mother, now let’s go back and finish dinner.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[thetruearchmagos]

The Fremont Reforms: The Commonwealth's Peacekeeping Army

Hey folks! This article is an offshoot of an offshoot of a bit I was hoping to get done yesterday, which might tell you something about how my writing's going these days. It goes over in brief some of the military reforms made by the United Commonwealth Army decades prior to the Chainbreaker War, hopefully setting some context for future posts on specific issues and the broader Chainbreaker War as a whole. It was written in a strange fugue of sorts, so... it's not exactly polished. Can't tell if its too detailed, or not detailed enough.

Tagging, if I may, @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @lividdreamz @hessdalen-globe @thatndginger

The Way Things Are Done Here

As the United Commonwealth entered its fifth decade, its Army, not yet a decade old, found itself having fight the sorts of battles that it was entirely ill equipped to. Where it had once fought for the sovereignty of its new member states and the freedom of their people from foreign invasion in the Commonwealth's formative years, the Army now found itself pushed into conducting various peacekeeping crises and operations throughout the 50's A.S. These conflicts would see a fundamental shift in the way the Army fought and organised itself, and the need for change was brought to the forefront after the disastrous fate of one expedition conducted on Commonwealth soil, in the Battezid Empire.

These were wars not fought in open fields against and with massed ranks of musketry, but the tortuously demanding tasks of projecting power, control and political authority across vast stretches of underdeveloped countryside against disparate bands of raiders and separatists, in many cases sponsored out of the coffers of the Fuhrati Empire itself. Some issues, such as the need to support the needed forces across the Warp and 12 Worlds, were well enough known, but a host of new challenges faced the Commonwealth Army as it found itself thrust into this new style of conflict. One key tactical challenge facing every battalion and regiment deployed to these tasks was the tyranny of distance and the fog of war, which took on a new dimension against an enemy that simply was not an Army like itself. Foot patrols and columns on the march between settlements frequently grasped blindly where they went, and horse cavalry troops were conspicuous enough that the irregulars could simply hide and wait for them to pass. The infantry could only be sure of their own security within their immediate line of sight, and barely even at those distances when it seemed as if the population itself could hide their enemy. Instead of deploying into the field as full battalions, the strength of those formations was bolstered and sub-units created below the level of platoons to allow the battalion to disperse itself across as wide an area as possible. Those larger numbers were needed to sustain the high rate of constant patrols and staff the many outposts deemed necessary to protect civilian and government interests and project at least the image of Commonwealth or Commonwealth-aligned local authority. The employment of battalions in this manner may have succeeded in deterring small-scale banditry and raiding, but as the size, intentions and scope of irregular forces grew and shifted the Army failed to keep up. Soon, patrols of six soldiers or less became increasingly vulnerable to isolation by what were now larger groups of organised and armed irregulars, while the distances allowed between different companies and their own platoons made the concentration of those forces impossible. Combined with the dire state of communications between battalions or regiments and their constituent parts and the poor state of tactical intelligence for those formations, the stage was set for a catastrophe.

The Slaughter

That disaster would in September of 51 A.S., wintertime in southern Battezid, in a battle which would be remembered as the Siege of Pazotin. The 2nd Tomikawa Rifles, a unit which had been in-province long enough to get far too comfortable for its own good, faced down the greatest uprising yet seen. Rising in a great, coordinated tide across the countryside, scattered platoons found themselves facing three-to-one odds from a force which seemed to have appeared from thin air, and which just as readily disappeared back into it before striking again against another distant outpost. The battalion itself was entirely isolated from all but one of its four companies within Pazotin itself, in a siege which lasted most of a week before the rest of the regiment could march under constant harassment to relieve the defenders. More than half of the 2nd Tomikawa's strength was dead or wounded by the end of it, and no decisive damage was inflicted on the insurrectionists.

The defeat, and there was no question that it was anything but that, led to a public outcry and came close to crippling support for the Commonwealth’s policy of policing and peacekeeping at home and abroad. An inquiry initiated personally by the Chief of the General Staff, Field Marshal John Fremont, found a long series of endemic flaws throughout the command overseeing the province and theatre of operations. After damning the commanding general and Military District commander overseeing Battezid, the report recommended a bottom-up reform of the organisation, training, and doctrine of United Commonwealth Army forces deployed on such peacekeeping missions. The failures which had led to that fiasco had been in making for some time, and the depth of the Army's weaknesses in the region were put on display.

A New Old Army

The reforms outlined were thorough, and would take the better part of a decade to manifest. When and where they eventually did, the interests of the Commonwealth were much advanced by the now highly capable forces providing stability and peace to troubled and violent regions of the Commonwealth, its foreign allies, and its future members. The soldiers and officers who would grow into the Army under these reforms and be shaped by this kind of work would be the ones shaping the Army's culture for decades afterwards, and at the very least were slightly more open to the importance of necessary reforms in the future than their predecessors were.

It is, however, a great irony that the period in which the Commonwealth Army would achieve its greatest proficiency in the field of peacekeeping would coincide so closely with the creation of a completely different strategic picture. The Fuhrati Empire, whose belligerence and opposition to the UC's interests was well documented, and which had provided lavish assistance to the very irregular outfits the Commonwealth had fought to suppress, was growing rapidly in strength, and to the United Commonwealth's leaders it seemed as if war with the great slave empire could come at any moment as it entered the second half of the 60's A.S.

While the need for peacekeeping was ever-present, the Army would once again find itself facing down the barrel of another great challenge it had not yet equipped or designed itself for. And even though the service would have a head start in facing this new daunting task that it lacked when first thrown into its current one, the sheer weight of inertia meant that the Army that would find itself facing down the Fuhrati leviathan at the gates to Upepwani was caught somewhere in the middle, not quite a peacekeeping force thrust into a real war, yet hardly the modern, bayonet-sharp fighting force those few visionaries and theorists had hoped it would have become before the dogs of war were let loose. The lessons of this modern war, like the lessons of the previous breed of conflict, would have to be learned on the battlefield, and paid for in blood.

[windypuddle]

CAN I ASK MORE ABT UNDEAD IN UR SWAPSTARS AU.... I AM GREATLY INTRIGUED

you absolutely can i LOVE talking about my swapstars au... even when i end up making up half the stuff on the spot

alright. i did a funky thing here because they're called undead like in canon, but really they take the role of crazy:b. they're tearing it up and stomping on it and some people hate them for slandering and trying to wreck the idol industry. some people like them for being revolutionary and like... rock n roll is hot.

about half of my preset lineups are for my swap au, i love doing mvs with them when its not an event. for swap undead, i obviously use their lineup for undead songs, but ... also crazy roulette. because it goes with their role and the vibes.

Rei was kind of a sheltered kid, both for illness reasons and because he's supposed to lead the Sakuma clan one day (do you see where i'm going with the comparison to rinne? i sure hope so), but he saw idols and became enamoured with the concept. i feel like this bit could also apply to canon, but his family mostly values him for being a future leader, and not necessarily for Rei as a person, and he loved the idea of being an idol, having people admire you for you.

So he joined Yumenosaki. Whatever, his parents thought. its not like they dont have the money, and it cant hurt to let him do something he wants to do, and he'll get an education in this process. unfortunately, keito looked at him and went "a vampire chuunibyou? what a loser. get his ass" basically. (i dont think they would be childhood friends in this au) The crusades (this is what ive been calling the war, idk why i forgot that in my earlier posts) and attacks on the weird students, rei's tendency to skip class, and his health caught up to him all at once and he had to drop out and return home.

a few years later, he has a quarter-life crisis or something and realizes that being an idol is really what he wants to do, so he runs away from home and joins ES. he's potentially dangerous. also he probably uses ore here because that fits the bad boy image

Jun is kind of just some guy from yumenosaki. he seems very polite and normal in interviews but goes kinda wild on stage and fans absolutely love it.

Natsume is interesting. Natsume was almost targeted in the crusades but not really. he's definitely a weird kid though and was one of the few people to notice Rei's disappearance (others included keito because it's his fault, and koga because like. rock n roll. guy with a cool voice). when Rei comes back, Natsume really respects him and his attitude towards being an idol and how unconventional it is, and so joins Undead with him.

also: Natsume and Tsumugi were indeed childhood friends, who had an argument sometime during their yumenosaki days. it makes Undead and Alkaloid's lives.... extra interesting.

EDIT: hey. midori time.

ok so midori before undead was formed was like. kind of starting to hate being an idol and how superficial it all was. and rei saw that and was like "hey boy do you want to mess stuff up" and midori was like ok... and ends up having so much fun actually

[minarcana]

@ichoric / i meant to write affection but i got carried away.

Minfilia's fallen ill, which really shouldn't surprise anyone. She's been isolated for a long time and since breaking free, been under great stress for most of the time. Urianger feels like he's the only one who isn't shocked that it took its toll. He walks up to the room that became designated as 'hers' since she first set foot in the Shelves a mere visit or two ago. He's carrying tea and small snacks and, at the demanding behest of some of the pixies, a.... thing? in a glass bottle that has some beneficial charm for the newest playmate.

She's staring guiltily at him from where she's cocooned herself in blankets. "I thought thou would be asleep, child," Urianger says as he sets down his plate of accoutrements. Minfilia mumbles a reply, shrinking away from him. He sits at the edge of the bed, looking off to the side of her. "'Tis no concern if thou are not. I brought tea to ease thy symptoms, if thou would like to partake."

After a pause, Minfilia shuffles around and carefully sits up, keeping the blanket around her shoulders. Uringer smiles at her and gives a quiet word of thanks before he passes her the mug he brought. She takes it and holds it close to her before she drinks a little.

Urianger watches as she stares down for a good few beats. "...Thancred's mad at me," she says in a tiny voice, a bit hoarse. "I'm holding him up."

Urianger blinks in surprise then cannot help but let out a quiet laugh. "No, not at all, my dear." He feels a little bad for laughing, especially as she looks at him with big worried eyes. Sorry, it's just that... well, Thancred is a bit difficult, isn't he? Urianger really will have to bother him more about being gentler with Minfilia, even if he's unsure that will work. "Thancred simply expresseth his concern poorly. Thy illness giveth him deep concern that shapeth itself as stress, I do believe. Whatever it is, 'tis not anger at thee, I assure thee fully."

He can hope that will ease Minfilia's worry, now and in the future when Thancred doubtlessly continues to express worry in only the most confusing ways possible for a sheltered teenager. She mulls it over, at least. "But it's my fault he can't bring us back on the road."

Ah, yes. He forgot that was actually supposed to be a problem. Urianger leans and gives a conspiratorial stage whisper for the first clause of his rebuttal. "I shall tell thee a secret, Minfilia, thou should convalesce as long as thou can get away with, for my hope is that it forceth Thancred to rest as well, and I much preferreth when I can see thee both safe." He flashes her a quick smile. "Do not let it slip, lest Thancred's gunblade find its way to my throat, but I did send him on his current quest to ask the good neighbours for some herbs largely to keep him from wearing furrows in mine floor with his pacing. 'Twas all a trick of mine own rather than thy imposition."

He does need some more supplies, and some would be of aid to Minfilia's current case, so it's technically not a lie, but Urianger is also well aware Thancred will take about twenty times longer on this quest than if Urianger did it himself.

Urianger reaches over and gently lays his hand on Minfilia's head. He doesn't miss the second where she flinches away from him, but it's too late for him to stop the movement by the time he realizes. The touch is soft and he leaves his hand harmlessly on her crown for a second. She seems surprised, honestly. "Never shalt thou be a burden, 'tis my gladness to be a help and Thancred's greatest concern that thou survive."

She relaxes. It makes Urianger feel rather victorious, especially when Minfilia looks up to meet his eyes with the hint of a smile. There, he's accomplished something in the way of reassurance, in some way making Minfilia a little more at ease in Il Mheg. She shifts a little closer, tension ekeing its way out of her position, and Urianger sits in more comfortable silence with her, mentally figuring a list of books he thinks she would like, so he can offer something while here.

[kitchensunflowers]

9-1-1 lone star 4x04 thoughts! this took a bit to write up in part because i'm busy and ill lol, and in part bc i get nervous about 'writing about ableism' being my main contribution to fandom sometimes

The positives:

-- ronen and rafael were both phenomenal in this episode. ronen portraying the different stages of tk's panic, worry, desparation. rafael, as carlos dealt with injury in a scary and life-threatening situation, trying to keep control, staying ever polite as he did his best to handle his captors and find a way out. amazing physicality and characterisation on both accounts.

-- even though we saw less of the rest of cast (looking forward to you, future eps, even if the promos are stressful!), I'm really grateful, in season four, for how embodied these characters are. We only got what, two lines? maybe? from marjan and nancy but still within that totally got that marjan kind of has a big sister role to tk while nancy, like tk, is one of the kids (specifically tommy's kids, missed you tommy!); we saw a nod to grace's friendship with carlos, too which was great. (and again, can't wait to watch them have their own storylines in future eps!)

-- I mention the owen storyline below, but even though it's not my favourite, rob lowe's comedy beats as owen are great. 'Our codes are... fire' - ngl, I exhaled through my nose

-- and ofc carlos' love declarations... 'she will be at the wedding... i think she's sending her love through me' truly so emotional

i have hope for the future that there will be more mentions/memories of gwyn, more tk interacting with the reyeses (they were so excited to see him!), and more delving into tk and owen's relationship (i liked that they showed that owen's trying, but he hasn't gotten it quite right yet, and that it is impacting tk... 4x08 here we come!)

The not-so-positives (below the cut; content is mainly discussions of ableism, but also includes brief mentions of scenes from when carlos was captured, including mention of the drugging/overdose, and of the nazis and copaganda in owen's storyline):

-- the 9-1-1 cinematic universe has always had a bit of an ableism problem, which, yeah, its a mainstream procedural from hollywood, ft. regular doses of copaganda, what do i expect? i guess i hope its still worth talking about and acknowledging within fandom? idk. in any case iris mentioning that her captor had some kind of burn marks on his hand in 4x03 immediately signalled: the writers room has made a disabled/disfigured villain -- if you're unsure as to why this might be an issue, disfigurement has a long history of being used to signify evil in media (as a harmful trope), and means that a significant portion of the already highly limited representation of disfigurement on tv is as villains. disability and disfigurement are practically only allowed to exist on screen when they exist as either plot devices or as a representation of internal flaws/brokenness/villainy/evil. And this is a problem, because disabled people and people with scars or other forms of disfigurement are not metaphors. To quote disability and disfigurement activist (and author and YouTuber) Jen Campbell, "It is clear that producers are not thinking critically about disability at all. We are not metaphors; we are people." actually Jen Campbell has a video overview of this topic that I recommend watching (though content note for discussion of the h*rry potter series from the apprximately 11 through 14 minute mark), and has other great videos related to this topic as well. Or if you're more into reading an academic paper, disability scholar Paul K. Longmore's essay, 'Screening Stereotypes' (Temple University Press, 2003) is a classic.

-- so yeah, needless to say i wasn't a fan of the close up on the guy's scars to identify him as the evil man, or the discussion of how his mom believed he became villainous (framed as 'a monster' in the show) after the accident that scarred his hand. this is also not the first time lone star has linked scarring/disfigurement to villainy

-- anyway, some of the parallels in the episode also didn't work for me - the baking cookies and use of retro music parallel to the coma dream in particular. some of them did work! - i did think the narcan post-overdose parallel was meaningful in terms of TK's arc from s1 to s4, and the 2x08 parallels were fun (in the stressful storyline, notable moments kind of way) - but i feel like we've had so many parallels to significant tarlos moments within the first 4 eps and a not insignificant number of them have not landed with me personally, which ig is a little disappointing.

-- and last but not least, still not a fan of the owen storyline - the copaganda of it all, for one, and the fact that the show has yet to address that owen associating with nazis (even if his goal is to ultimately take them down) could put those around him in danger? his son, his future son in law and in-laws, the majority of his staff/colleagues at his work... we have yet to see any indication that he has taken them into consideration at all.

that all being said, i am looking forward to storylines for the rest of the 126 now! tk is forever my baby, but as much as i am here for tarlos and excited for more storylines related to tk and carlos this season, i'm not here for sidelining the rest of this amazing cast/characters, and glad to have indication from the cast that they all have interesting stories in the work.

overall, very much looking forward to what this season brings next!

[witch-apologist]

I havent even SEEN The Phantom of the Opera (yes i know shame on me, shame on my cow) or Love Never Dies

HOWEVER

I could write a better "Christine ends up with the phantom" sequal RIGHT NOW than Love Never Dies

Observe:

15 years after the events of the TPOTO, Raoul met an untimely, tragic death. In her mourning Christine returns to the places that were important to their journey together as a couple. Including a very cautious trip to her old Opera house. While she is there the Phantom sees and is ecstatic to see her, hoping to make amends after all these years. He stops short in his tracks when he realizes that she is wearing mourning garb, and looks absolutely miserable. Instead of the joyoys greeting he would have originally gone with instead he cautiously approaches to offer her comfort. At first she is scared but he hangs back, not pursuing when she steps away and this brings her a level of comfort. From across the way they catch up, Christine laments about the loss of Raoul. Phantom acknowledges that Raoul was a good man and perfect for her, and that he himself was not a good man back then. She asks what he has been up to and he tells her he has been trying to venture out more, and has found community with other disabled people in the area. He talks about how he has been trying to learn how to be a man like Raoul. (Cue song: a man like him) She bids him farewell and promises to return again to visit. About a week later she does so but when she does she is spotted by the opera director and is begged to come be the lead role in a production. Having not sang since Raouls death, and not sang professionally for several years, she feels ill equipped but does miss the stage. Phantom offers a solution: coach her again to get back up to snuff, no strings attached, no holding her prisoner. She agress if nothing more than to have the company. Over the course of the preparation for and run of her new opera she and the phantom meet and train and over this time, she learns to cope with her loss, and phantom gives her the space she needs to heal. During this time she begins to notice how different the Phantom is from before, and that he really has taken on postivie character traits that Raoul once posessed. She begins to wonder uf she might be developing feelings for him. (Cue "A man like him" reprise) As the opera concludes Christine is offered to be a more permanent presence in the Opera, but she isn't sure because her and Raouls estate is so far away and she would need to get that situated. Phanton encrourages her to do whatever she thinks best, admitting hes enjoyed this time together but she should go where her heart leads her. She takes some time alone to figure it out; and decides she will stay. She sells the estate and buys a home in the city to continue her opera career, and tells the Phantom that she has developed feelings for him and she would be willing to try a courtship. Either the play enders here or theres another sct with a new drama as they navigate this new heslthier relationship and honor Raouls memory. Maybe they get married or maybe its inplied they might in the future idc. Christina starts a charity for the disabled.

Done, there, better.

And before anyone tells me some detail about this is irreconcilable with the canon of the first i dont really care its still better.

[bloodymary83]

“I Found Puppets Living in My Apartment Walls” by, Ben Farthing Part II

⛔️ Spoiler and Trigger Warnings this book is intended for 18+ audiences only reader discretion is advised. Graphic depictions of violence, gore, self harm, mental illness, emotional abuse, child d*ath and depictions of the occult are in this book. This book has spelling, grammar and punctuation errors, along with run on sentences. It doesn’t really bother me since the story is actually interesting but, if that bothers you, you may want to skip this book.

Johnny falls into the apartment of Marta a former actress on R-City Street. Johnny goes about the apartment tapping in the walls trying to find where Brittany is. He eventually finds another velcro opening Where he finds Brittany in the tunnel yelling for Johnny to come see what she had found. Johnny squeezes into the tunnel and follows Brittany deeper into the tunnel where she proudly shows him, she has found the original Swoomie puppet hanging on a wall. She takes the puppet down and proudly shows it to Johnny. Johnny is apprehensive to touch the puppet after his nightmare. While Brittany is inspecting the puppet Johnny notices that the puppet’s normal ping pong ball googley eyes are not moving and are set directly on Brittany. Brittany turns the puppet around butdoes not move when she turns it over. Brittany thinks the puppet has a steel rod rusted in the neck and goes to check. The Swoomie puppet opens its mouth all on its own. It has grown two rows of shark like teeth grabs Brittany’s arm. Rob, another actor from R-City Street appears and yanks the puppet off Brittany’s arm. He informs Johnny and Brittany that if they view the puppets thinking of the puppets in a nostalgic way keeps them timid and at bay. Rob tries to get the cousins to go back up into the house and leave but they go further into the tunnel instead hoping to find their grandfather alive and well in the tunnel. They travel down further and further seeing more puppets from the show and different show stages as they go impossibly further down the tunnel. The outside of the apartment complex is only 2 floors and a basement but, the apartment seems to be like Dr. Who’s Tardis and is much bigger on the inside. They eventually come to a room that has a large pulsing felt and flesh shaped donut object in it that appears to be breathing. Brittany curiously touches the object. The finger she touches the object with turns into pink felt. Brittany tells Johnny she is in pain. Johnny wants to go back up and get Brittany medical help but, Brittany refuses hoping to find their Grandfather future down the tunnel. They actually find their Grandfather hugging him happily he tells them what happened. The son of the show’s producer was a huge fan and wanted to be a puppeteer unfortunately he lacked any talent in doing so. Instead of practicing he dives deep into the occult and uses a Germanic spell to bring the puppets to life. During filming a little boy walks up to the puppet and it devours him. What is left of the child turns into the strange flesh/felt donut that Brittany had touched. The Grandfather tells the cousins they have to go to the bottom and set the basement on fire to cure Brittany. Before they can get to the bottom a giant felt frog puppet eats Grandpa and Brittany turns completely into a puppet and not even one of the puppets she likes. Johnny carry’s Brittany down to the bottom with him and sets the Johnny of felt on fire but, Brittany doesn’t turn back into a human and Grandpa does not appear. The whole place starts to collapse and Johnny makes a made dash up the stairs on the way up he discovers that Grandpa and Brittany were actually puppets. Brittany had been eaten by her favorite puppet right after she entered the tunnel. Johnny looks outside the window and sees an apocalyptic puppet world. The tunnel had kept the puppets trapped inside but, when Johnny burned the basement it released all the puppets to wreak havoc on the world.

[systems-overloaded]

had to use an epipen... but have traumas around needles that i am not controlling. (an auto-injector, is technically not a needle i am in control of.)

i couldnt tell if anaphylaxis was switching from slow-onset/progession to rapid (or if bc i was trying to psych myself up for so long it just progressed to more life threatening stage) or if it was just a panic attack causing symptoms while trying to psych myself up to inject myself (ontop of initial anaphylaxis symptoms, i got severe chest pain, heart palpitations, severe nausea, face and mouth numb and tingly, severe difficulty breathing, feeling like i went underwater and about to pass out...)

its so hard, bc i try to. i try, but the arms fucking stop before i can stab my fricking leg. like, ummm I WANT TO LIVE??? let me administer my own fucking epipen??? but my body just... wont. someone within or maybe just fear stops me from doing it. so i try to psych myself up, try to see if i could maybe just put it against my leg and then push down with my body weight, while imaging that i am the one controlling the needle. it doesnt work. tried this and various other methods.

eventually i ended up accidentally triggering the epipen... but it was inside my skin for less than one second bc it like "kicks back". ugh ughhhhhhh.

im going to try and meditate and reiki myself, and take more bendryl too. hope i wont need another epi... honestly idk if ill be able to do it again. the needle wasnt even bad, it didnt even hurt. but idk if ill get worked up again abt it.

id been telling myself, "the fear wont get in the way if i had rapid-onset anaphylaxis, so ik in the future id be fine to just stab myself. im only hesitating and having this issue because this exact moment is not life threatening (even though it will progress to that??)" but after that, when i legit think it couldve been mostly actual anaphylaxis issues, rather than just a panic attack... and i still wasnt able to as i was legit abt to pass out?? fuck fuckkkk. im concerned. how do i get over this? how do i help myself in emergencies?

ik ive had to have someone else administer epipens in the past when anaphylaxis has presented with increased weakness or confusion and i wasnt able to do it myself.

but idk if i could allow myself to let someone else do it... that makes it a needle im in even less control of. fuck.