#had a very good time writing this

[bi-naesala]

A regular day

(Written for @p3akishinjiweek day 4: Everybody Lives/Shinjiro Lives AU | Role Swap AU)

Canon divergence, Role swap, Hurt/Comfort, Repressed feelings, Past relationship

Shinji goes to find Akihiko with a mission: today, they're going to have some fun together, whether he wants it or not.

(This particular brand of role swap has been insipired by this art, this one, and this one.

Basically, Miki doesn't die in the fire and is recruited by SEES with Akihiko and Shinjiro, but Akihiko's persona goes berserk and kills her.)

(AO3 link)

(Fic under the cut)

Finding Akihiko has become Shinjiro’s specialty. He’s become so good at it and even if you blindfolded him, his legs would still take him to the place where he’s currently hiding.

Well, it’s also true that Aki doesn’t run from him anymore…

… But that doesn’t mean he’s always happy to see him.

That seems to be the case that day, because as soon as he hears Shinjiro’s steps – he could recognize their sound anywhere – he turns towards him, a frown on his face.

All the words die in Shinjiro’s mouth, and for a moment, all they do is to stare at each other, while the air becomes tenser and tenser by the second.

It’s Akihiko the one who breaks the silence, and he does so with a sigh. “Shinji, whatever you have to say, I don’t have time for it.”

He doesn’t seem particularly busy, but Shinjiro decides against pointing it out. He’s not here to start a fight, not today.

“What if I told you I wanted to go to the arcade?”

Akihiko visibly recoils from the surprise. Shinjiro has to use every ounce of his willpower in order not to laugh.

“To the arcade?! Why?” Akihiko asks, still in shock.

“Do I need a reason?” Shinjiro shrugs, but from the way Aki raises an eyebrow at him, it’s obvious that he’s still unconvinced.

“C’mon, how many times have we gone there without a reason?”

“That was before,” Akihiko points out, carefully choosing his words. That’s true, after Miki’s death, they’ve stopped hanging out like they used to – and not because Shinjiro didn’t want to – but still…

“Doesn’t mean we can’t do it again,” he says, stretching a hand towards the other. “So, are you coming or not?”

To tell the truth, he doesn’t really have a plan; he just got up, that day, deciding that he and Aki were going to spend some quality time together, just like they used to do before everything went to shit.

It’s being a quite stressful period for Shinjiro, and he can only imagine how worse it is for Aki, so why not have some fun? If you ask him, he thinks they deserve it.

Still, he’s not so naïve to believe that Akihiko won’t try to argue, so you can imagine his relief when he actually takes his hand without complaining.

“Alright, why not?”

They really end up going to the arcade, and they manage to have a good time too, despite their rustiness.

Shinjiro’s pretty sure a group of kids is making fun of them for their abysmal scores, but he doesn’t care. He still makes sure not to tell Akihiko about it – admitting he hasn’t noticed them – just in case he’d start a fight. Causing a scene and getting kicked out isn’t something they need – that would sour the mood incredibly.

A spark of their previous playful rivalry reignites, as they try to best each other’s score.

In the end, Akihiko’s the winner, but that’s only because Shinjiro’s distracted by the fact that he’s grinning. He’s grinning, for fuck’s sake! How long has it been since even the shadow of a smile had graced those lips?

It’s a far cry from his usual sour expression; it makes him look younger – more like his age – and more carefree. Shinjiro wishes he’d always smile like that.

“Wow, Shinji, you suck,” Akihiko teases him, but he doesn’t mind. Anything to make him have some fun.

His “plan” consisted in having a nice day at the arcade and then going back to the dorm – he has so much to do – but since it looks like Aki doesn’t have any intentions to leave his side, he decides that, whatever he needed to do, he can do it later.

Aki takes precedence – always has.

They could go to Hagakure – another one of their usual hangout spots – but they always go there. They should change it up.

“I bet you can’t handle Wild Duck Burger,” Akihiko challenges him, aware of Shinjiro’s widely-known and often voiced distaste for the fast food chain – honestly, any sensible person who cares about nutritional values instead of stuffing your face full with garbage would agree with him.

Aki knows it, that’s why he said it. Shinjiro has half a mind of telling him no, but you know what?

“And I bet you that I can.”

Challenge fucking accepted.

He tries the damned burger, all while Akihiko watches him intently – is he expecting him to throw up, or combust into flames as soon as he takes the first bite? – and he even manages to finish it. It wasn’t as evil as he thought it would be, but he still doesn’t want to know what the hell they’ve put in it – it mustn’t be anything good.

“Wow, you actually did it.” Why does Aki sound so surprised?!

Shinjiro scoffs, crossing his arms, offended. “I fight Shadows, for fuck’s sake. Why wouldn’t I?”

Akihiko doesn’t say anything, he just keeps looking at him like the fact that he’s an absolute powerhouse in battle – which is true, by the way – counts for nothing here. Little shit.

“Fuck off.”

Akihiko laughs.

After lunch, they find their way back to Paulownia Mall, as Shinjiro thinks about something else they could be doing… Oh, wait! How long has it been since he’s last fed her? With everything that has been going on lately, he completely forgot.

Well, he’s found out what he wants to do now – better take care of it immediately, before he forgets again.

“Hey Aki, wait here a moment,” he says, already making his way up to the pharmacy.

Akihiko, of course, noticing where he’s heading towards, follows him.

“Why are you going there?” he asks. “Do you need medicine?”

“Ugh, didn’t I tell you to wait?”

“I’m serious.”

He does look serious, dead serious in fact. Is the idiot convinced he’s sick, or that he has some sort of secret injury he needs to take care of?

Shinjiro didn’t really want to let him know about… well, this, but he supposes he doesn’t have any choice now.

“I just need… cat food.” The last part is barely whispered.

Akihiko narrows his eyes.

“Cat food? Don’t you have a dog?” he asks, confused.

“Yeah, yeah, we have a dog too,” Shinjiro replies. Thinking about it, he should get something nice for Koro-chan too, before he makes it back to the dorm. “But this is different.”

He doesn’t say anything else, not that he needs to: from the amused way Akihiko is looking at him, he must’ve put two and two together already, even without him confirming it for him.

“You’re such a softie,” he comments, in fact. It’s clearly meant as an insult, one of the many he throws his way; too bad that Shinjiro’s gotten used to them, so they don’t faze him anymore – most of the time, at least.

“Shut up,” he says, with no real heat in his voice though.

Shinjiro purchases the cat food without any hitch, if you exclude Akihiko’s presence, but there’s little he can do about that.

“Can you wait for me here?” he asks again, once they arrive at Port Island Station.

It’s not that he doesn’t want him there, but there’s a reason why he wants to be alone to feed the cat he’s befriended: the problem with this little kitty, is that she’s extremely untrusting of strangers – must be her survival instincts kicking in – which means that, with Akihiko with him, she might not show up, even if she’s come to trust Shinjiro.

“No way, I want to see this,” Akihiko replies, the stubborn idiot.

Shinjiro sighs. “Fine, don’t complain to me when she doesn’t show up, though.”

They walk towards the back alley.

Much to Shinjiro’s surprise, she makes her presence known immediately, and loudly too, from the way she meows as she approaches them.

“Hello there, little one,” Shinjiro greets her, crouching to the ground and stretching a hand for her to smell. “Long time no see.”

He opens the food can and lets the cat eat it. He had bought a small bowl to leave there so that she wouldn’t eat from the ground, but some assholes stole it; he should buy another one, it’s not like he doesn’t have the money for it…

Akihiko crouches beside him, watching the cat intently. As soon as she’s finished her food, she turns her attention to him, rubbing herself against his knee while purring. Huh.

She’s acting way too familiar with him, which is weird if this is the first time she meets him. That can only mean one thing…

“Aki, you sure you’ve never seen this cat before?”

“W-What do you mean?” Akihiko asks, face getting redder by the second. He’s so easy to read, sometimes.

Shinjiro can’t help but to smirk. “Nothing, nothing at all…  It’s just weird that she’s taken such a shine to you. She never does it for people she doesn’t know.”

“Lucky me then, huh?” Akihiko deadpans, but he still stretches a hand towards the cat, giving her light scratches behind her ears.

“Some shitheads thought it would be a fun pastime to throw rocks at her. I just made them reconsider…” he admits, then.

He’s omitted the violent part, Shinjiro’s sure of it, though for once he can’t find it in himself to reprimand him.

“Assholes,” he comments, in fact, to which Akihiko nods. For once, they’re in agreement.

“I did think she was too well-fed for being a stray. I should’ve imagined you were involved,” Akihiko says, then. “Such a softie indeed…”

Shinjiro shoves him with his shoulder, only to be shoved in return, which prompts him to do it again, this time with more force, until it escalates, because of course it does – neither of them are known for backing out from anything, after all.

They end up on the ground, roughhousing for a bit, making the cat escape, probably in search for a safe place. The poor thing must’ve thought they were being serious, but they’re playing around more than anything else: they aren’t being as aggressive as usual, and they’re not trying to hurt each other too much. Compared to other fights they’ve had, this one’s pretty tame.

“Okay, okay, enough!” Shinjiro exclaims, laughing, after Akihiko pins him to the ground. There’s a playful sparkle in his eyes that makes his heart melt – why can’t he always be like this?

“You surrender?” he asks, still not letting Shinjiro go.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, I surrender. Now get off before someone calls the cops on us.”

It’s something that has, unfortunately, happened already, during one of their brawls, and that’s an experience neither of them wants to repeat. Even just being reminded of it is enough to convince Akihiko to let him go; he rolls to the side, and then he gets up, dusting off his pants.

Shinjiro would’ve followed him, too bad he’s too busy staring at him – “like a creep,” Takeba would say.

He can’t believe that, for once, everything’s been going according to plan: he just wanted to spend a normal day with Akihiko, and spending a normal day they did, with nothing bad happening.

“Earth to Shinji! Are you okay? I haven’t hit you that hard.”

When Shinjiro’s eyes find their focus again, he sees Akihiko leaning towards him, a confused look on his face. He shakes his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry…”

He begins pushing himself up when Akihiko extends a hand to him, with the clear intent of helping him up.

Shinjiro doesn’t think twice before grabbing it.

“So, what no—"

Before he can finish, Akihiko throws himself at him.

At first, knowing him, Shinjiro expects a fight – he never knows when to quit, huh? – but he’s stunned when he realizes that what he’s doing is hugging him.

It’s so tight that he can hardly breathe, but he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world: it’s been ages since they’ve hugged.

“Thank you… Shinji,” Akihiko mutters, before burying his face against Shinjiro’s shoulder.

For a moment, he’s afraid he’ll start crying, but Aki has stopped doing that a long time ago; he kind of wishes he would do it again, instead of keeping everything inside without letting anyone in, not even him.

He doesn’t know what to do; he wants to hold him close, he wants to caress his hair, he wants to kiss him, just like they used to, but he’s afraid of being too much: what if Aki can’t handle it? What if he runs away? Shinjiro won’t forgive himself if that happens.

Eventually, he closes his arms around his frame anyway. Oh, how he’s missed this, and he mustn’t be the only one, because as soon as feels him returning the hug, Akihiko’s grip on him gets even tighter.

Why can’t he just come back to them? Why does he insist on being alone, when it’s obvious that he doesn’t want to be? Why does he keep punishing himself?

Shinjiro wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he understands that hurting himself like this won’t make up for Miki’s death, but he knows that doing so, now, would only make matters worse.

They already had this discussion, right after Aki had left SEES; he found him at what, with time, has become his usual alley, all battered and bruised, and tried to get him to come back, at least for a medical check-up.

“Do you think Miki would want to see you like this?!” he tried, hoping that bringing up his sister would get him to take better care of himself. Damn him and his mouth, he shouldn’t have said anything, because all he managed to accomplish was to make him angrier.

“She wouldn’t want to be dead either!” he had shouted, ready to vent all his anger with his fists… only to stop once he had realized who he was about to attack.

Shinjiro had tried to reach out for him, but Akihiko had managed to push him and run away. He had never run away from anything, until that day.

After that, it took Shinjiro a week before he was able to find him again, and it was then that they stroke an accord: Shinjiro would never mention Miki again, and Akihiko was never going to pull a disappearing act like that ever again – Shinjiro had been so afraid something bad had happened to him.

He knows he should keep his mouth shut, and yet he can’t help but to mutter:

“I miss you.”

Akihiko remains silent, which only cements the idea that he shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. Shinjiro’s about to apologize, when he speaks:

“Me too… Shinji, me too, really, but…”

He pulls away from the embrace. Shinjiro already misses the closeness.

“I can’t come back, not yet.”

That “not yet” catches Shinjiro’s attention. That’s not something Aki’s ever said, not until now at least. Does it mean that he might join them again in the future? He wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to push his luck further.

“Can we still see each other in the meantime?” he settles with, instead. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle not hanging out with him until he decides he’s ready for SEES again.

There’s a shadow of a smile on Akihiko’s face. “Never said we couldn’t.”

Oh thank fuck.

“Not that it would matter either way, with your stubborn ass,” Akihiko continues, then, and… is he teasing him, the little shit?!

“As if you’re any better!” Shinjiro defends himself, because really, Aki’s even worse than him. Everybody else would agree on this, no doubt.

As much as he’d love to argue with Akihiko more, he’s noticed that it’s gotten quite late.

“… I should leave.”

Not that he wants to, but sooner or later he has to go back to the dorm. That’s a shame, though: he’s been making so much progress today with Aki!

Speaking of him, at least he’s not taking it personally, which makes Shinjiro feel a little less guilty about leaving him alone.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he says, in fact. “Unlike your brats, I can handle being by myself just fine.”

Shinjiro would tell him not to speak of them like that… if only it wasn’t true. Really, sometimes he feels like a father, and he just recently turned eighteen!

“What are you going to do now?” he can’t help but to ask.

Akihiko rolls his eyes. “Nothing dangerous, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll just hang around and see where the rest of the day brings me.”

It doesn’t exactly instill confidence in Shinji, but it’s better than him actively looking for a fight. He is good at surviving on his own, he has to give him that much – even though he wouldn’t need to if he just came back.

“Ok, so… See ya?”

Akihiko chuckles, shaking his head.

“Sure, see ya, Shinji.”

Shinjiro begins walking away, only to stop and turn his head to get one last look at Aki. He’s still smiling.

For a moment, it’s like the view in front of his eyes and the image of a younger Aki – the one that Shinjiro holds dearly in his memory – overlap. It’s hard to distinguish the two.

It happens all so suddenly that it scares him, before he gets a grip on himself. Now it’s not the time to reminisce, even though seeing him like this makes him very happy.

He loves him, he loves him so much it hurts, and he wants to protect him, to keep him from the rest of this fucking world, since it’s so hellbent on hurting him.

He wants… and yet he knows that, in the grand scheme of things, what he wants doesn’t matter.

If he can’t get Akihiko to join SEES back – for now – at least he can make sure he doesn’t get in too much trouble, and be there for him when he needs it, which is exactly what he’s been doing, and what he’ll keep doing.

Aki doesn’t think there’s a happy ending for him, so he has to do the believing for the both of them.

It will get better, and he will fight for it, everything else be damned.

No matter how hard it will be, they will have their happy ending.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[velvetjune]

“Darkness flowed from Cauldron Lake. Gaze into the black mirror of the lake, you'd see it all around you, and you'd understand, it was already out, already where you were. It was already too late.”

— Alan Wake 2

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[celtrist]

I really want to see a more fucked up version of Charlie in canon. Like, okay, I am a die-hard for sweet bubbly girls in media. But I always see how some people make Charlie actually, oh I dunno... demonic? And it's so refreshing for her type of character. I could honestly see her having low empathy (and we kinda see this with how she handled Angel's situation or even Vaggie's nervousness about taking control on an activity). An exploration of that trait (if it was intended) would be interesting to see for a protagonist, especially when her main goal is about helping others. I would love to see her actually have a level of difficulty in understanding others' feelings from the other residents, sinners, and even her father.

But give her a fucked up side. Not a "she gets more power when she's angey uwu", but a "oh, she's a little fucked in the head". It would give so much to her character that she just doesn't have.

@/murmurmurena (don't wanna bother them so slash there we go) has some fun ideas with Charlie. I highly encourage people to check their stuff out! So many fun dark ideas with her character while also still keeping to her canon personality pretty well! Personally, I think Charlie being a bit more naive to her own messed up traits would work best but her also being aware of these traits can make for some interesting character for her.

THIS FIC, "A Game Between You and I". RIGHT HERE WITH THE FIRST CHAPTER. A bit of spoil for the fic here: but I love how they handled Charlie’s absolute ignorance as to why the idea of Russian roulette is horrifying to Angel Dust. It doesn't feel like her being intentionally malicious or aware that she's the odd man out here. This is also a pretty old fic going by only the pilot, but the point still stands that it was such a fun take for her character!

Charlie is one of my favorite characters in the show in part of the POTENTIAL she could have as being the most bubbly sweetheart character while also being the most messed up character in the show. I can't say I have strong confidence with the show's writing and fully expect them to stick with Charlie being the "nice girl but oh no, don't get her angry or she gets scarwy". Which isn't bad for a character mind you, there's just so much more potential to Charlie outside of that trope, especially when you get into the theories of her either being a doll, Roo's biological daughter, or what have you. And for the MAIN CHARACTER of the show, it would be not only interesting but also bring the spotlight back to her.

There's really no question that the side characters steal the show, particularly all the male characters. If I'm honest, Charlie does not feel like she gets a lot of love from the show itself when she's supposed to be the main character. She feels far more flat compared to the rest of the characters (again, the male cast in this "female-lead" show has more depth than most of the female cast currently. I wouldn't be pointing this tidbit concerning the genders of characters if it weren't for the fact Viv defended Helluva's lack of development with their female cast by saying "Hazbin is a female-lead show and Helluva is a male-lead" and Hazbin ended up with it not feeling female lead (to me) and the male cast just completely stealing the show. I don't normally care about gender stuff, especially since I do personally lean interest towards male characters. But using one show as a defense for poor development of the female characters, and then that show not really holding up with no very interesting well-developed feeling female characters irritates me. It's just very clear that these shows don't seem to care much about the female cast :/)

If you like how Charlie is written that's totally fine. PERSONALLY, I just think they're missing so much opportunity with her character by just making her the standard female character type. I honestly don't have a lot of faith they'll actually do something with Charlie's character though. She's a pretty static character in S1 being the same from start to end. Not changing or learning anything to create any development. What does the end of season Charlie do that start of season Charlie wouldn't do? Fight back? Because we see with the pilot (which is the “first episode”) that Charlie does fight people if pushed like with Katie Killjoy and even Valentino. Static characters can work in media depending on the show or their role. But Charlie is the MC of a show about “bettering one's self”. So to have her as a static with not a lot of strong dilemmas for herself (like we see with Angel Husk Al and even Vox) seems silly. Plus, considering Hazbin is telling a whole story and it's not a fun episodic thing, characters are expected to grow on some level. Or else, what was the point of their hero's journey?

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[morganbritton132]

I think one of the most interesting ways to write Steve’s parents (or his mom, at least) is as a deeply flawed person with good intentions.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a fic where they’re just bad people. Sometimes that’s all you need for a good story and this is not a criticism of anybody’s interpretation.

My personal preference in writing his parents is as people who are trying to be good parents.

Like, im currently messing around with this AU concept where Steve has a really complicated family dynamic. In it, he has bad parents. His mother made a choice to follow her husband because she thinks it’s the only way to preserve her marriage and thus preserve a good life for her son. It’s not malicious neglect but it is neglect. She’s trying to do the right thing but she’s making the wrong decisions. In the end, she’s still hurting her child.

A couple years ago I wrote this fic about Steve spiraling into a severe depression and his parents are trying to help him. They just don’t listen. They don’t understand what he’s dealing with and they make the wrong choices when trying to help him. Everybody that tries to help him makes the wrong choices, but with the best of intentions. Steve says repeatedly throughout the fic that it’s not his parents fault they don’t know how to be parents.

It’s really fun to write and it’s really cathartic if your relationship with your parents isn’t easy.

[realbeefman]

stacy is sooo interesting because she's in love with house but knows that they will never ever be able to have a healthy, stable, sane relationship because they're too similar so. she finds house-lite instead and marries him and. essentially moves on with her life! and is successful in this because she's a moderately well-adjusted person!

wilson, in contrast, never manages to escape the inevitable, in spite of his best efforts to find a house-lite of his very own, because he's an absolute fucking freak and ends up glued to house to the bitter. bitter end

[stellar-collective]

Feel free to take this time on this request. /gen

Since your Phoenix can come back from the dead, I wonder if you can draw Reginald's reaction to finding out about Phoenix's multiple deaths.

(How he finds out is up to you. But if you want an idea: Zoraxis memory reading machine upon Phoenix getting captured.)

rule number one of being a handler: never, ever panic in front of the agent. if you stay frosty, then they won’t panic either. Reginald is going to hang on to these feelings and quietly have a crisis once they’re safely back at base, where Phoenix will never know.

[gossippool]

fuck it 1.5k words of logan exposition that's part of the first chapter of an unpublished fic i won't be done with anytime soon. this backstory is partially inspired by the origin comic. tw mentions of violence, death, child death, self-harm etc. etc.

-----

The first time Logan killed an innocent, he was ten years old. He could name many moments in his life that felt monumental—'canon events', or whatever shit Wade calls it—but if he really had to name a point of no return for him, it would be then. All the way back then. He wonders about fate, often. If it was possible that things could ever be different. Then he remembers. His past comes back to him in flashes still, even after two hundred years. His ribbed, rough bones splintering the skin between his knuckles for the first time, the deafening quiet of the night broken by his howls and his mother’s screams, the gunshot before that, as if all the world had been contained in that one room. Her body underneath his, wounds gaping—maybe her throat, maybe her chest, or her stomach—and guzzling dark, dark wine. His grandfather’s mouth moving, the spit on his tongue. The words made no sound—he couldn’t remember what his grandfather had said, nor what he'd sounded like. But he'd known. So he'd run.

He'd had a decent childhood, before it all. Decent enough that he hadn't thought of life anywhere else, at least, or maybe that spoke of something that was the opposite of decency. Regardless, he'd felt… clean. He hadn't known about his claws then. How could he? His own mutant brother had been cast away, erased from the family legacy, with no explanation as to why. But now his claws resided in him like an itch under his skin, dead weight when he moved. He felt their presence in his fingertips even when they were retracted, and now when he thought back to the before, before he'd had the claws, he thought that maybe he'd felt them then too. He just hadn't known it.

It had been an accident, killing the mother he'd longed to see, the one he'd missed even when she was alive. But it being an accident changed nothing.

He'd been filled with a quiet sort of rage since then, the kind that simmered low in his blood, unnoticable on some days but intrinsically a part of him nonetheless. His anger was its own organ that kept his body running unprompted, and if he let himself accept that he was angry, let himself feel it, it took everything in him to not claw his way through the anger. To not claw at himself until he reached bone, to hear the unnatural, inhuman screech of metal against metal.

He'd released it in increments, chopping wood and lugging wheelbarrows and running with the wolves, and beating up the occasional man who deserved it. That was in the early stages, when every exhale released puffs of anger into the cold air.

On bad days—the bad days were the normal days—he wondered if he had been born defective. Not just in his claws, but born to be full of fear and hatred, to not know where to put any of it. Born to reap the consequences of his brother's failures in the form of neglect and frigid silences, of the bond of family only through blood and nothing more. In unleashing himself, he'd become his brother, maybe. A mantle of generational disappointment passed on for him to bear.

On worse days when he hated himself to the point of self-mutilation, he recognised that it may have been inevitable. A buildup of pressured anger in centuries-long microdoses that eventually forced its way through his fissures and burst out of him, destroying everything in its path.

He sits in this bar now, indistinguishable from all the others, unwanted again, always running. He bears the looks and the whispers like a wooden cross, dragging the weight of it on his back down Gethsemane streets—sacrificing himself for what the people feel it right give him, what he knows he deserves: contempt. The bartender pours him another drink with what looks like anger, but also pity. Pity is kinder than anything he’s been dealt for the past few years.

He holds the shot glass like a communion cup, imagines that in it is his mother’s blood. When he drinks it, he thinks forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me of my sins. But he knows he won’t be forgiven. He doesn’t know anymore if he even wants to be. Because his sins have been building up for two hundred years, clawing at each other to get to the insurmountable top. He is sin. Every inch of his body, from the roots of his hair to the skin under his fingernails, has been stained with blood that he has washed off over and over again but still feels. If he’s forgiven, if all his sins are taken away, he doesn’t know if there would be anything left of him but metal and a hardened heart.

It may absolve him of some guilt, he thinks, if he could say he remembers them all—all the people he’s killed, all the ways he killed them. He doesn’t. They hadn’t been important enough to him then, besides the life that they held in them that he starved to take away. And when his claws pierced through their flesh and muscle and bone, he drank up the lifelessness in their eyes like morphine. The high kept him alive, and rotted his insides. It quenched his thirst, but it didn't make him feel good. Then again, when does addiction ever?

He can't even remember the X-Men. When he had, when they'd crossed his thoughts in passing when they were alive, he could see them clear as day in his mind, vivid in saturation and detail. Now when he tries thinking of them, all he sees is questions written in blood.

He does remember one of them, vaguely, of those he's killed. All of his past is a blur now, memories seen through a fogged-up window or in a yellowing photo album. But this one he sees with slightly more clarity: a girl with dark skin and darker hair, a carbon copy of her mother. He'd killed them both twice over. It was the first time he killed a child.

And he remembers her because he’d liked it when he killed her. The tabooness of it, the special sanctity of a child's life that he had forced away, so easily. Something that people hardly dare to do. Look, he remembers yelling, to dead bricks and corpses in a dead-end alley. I'll fucking show you. They’d thought he couldn’t go lower than he already had. They'd thought they couldn't hate him more. They had no idea what he was capable of.

He remembers her screams, bloodcurdling but still unmistakably a child’s, and then her eternal silence. He remembers her mother's begging, his own mother's begging. He remembers that he had not felt an ounce of guilt in that moment, nor remorse, nor any of the gravity of her life.

Now whenever he drinks, he drinks enough to kill himself a little, in remembrance of her.

Not that that's the only reason. Because underneath it all, despite it all, through it all, he is nothing but a selfish bastard. And it's fucked up, he knows it is, but when he stopped killing people it had felt like withdrawal. More potent than any withdrawal he could get from drugs like a normal person. It was a withdrawal he's stuck with because he's more tired of kiling people than he is thirsty to sate his urge. Not the urge to kill—just the thought of it now makes him sick, clogs his throat with blood—but the urge to take all his despair and anger out on something. Everything. And oh, he's tried. Not even killing the world and filling oceans with blood was enough.

So he drinks, because nothing can satiate that urge, and the alcohol makes him forget that it even exists. You can't think about anything when you're blackout drunk. You can't see how other people look at you when you're passed out. But even in unconsciousness his body remains wound tight and tense, and he wakes up sore through every muscle.

He doesn’t believe in God, but he’s lived long enough to know enough. And he knows that God wouldn’t differentiate between the good and bad people he's killed. Blood is blood is blood. The blood of the innocent mixes with the blood of the evil, turning the lake a plagued, undrinkable scarlet all the same.

And this isn't a children's book, a bedtime story, a movie where everything gets wrapped up in a nice little bow and they all live happily ever after. He fucking wishes.

All of it remains in the back of his mind like a prowler, laying dormant and ready to pounce, when Wade drags him out of that bar; when he decides to save that asshole's timeline; when Laura tells him he's the wrong guy until he isn't; when Wade says he's the best Wolverine. He looks around him, and all the world is still black and white and bleeding red.

[sesamestreep]

sexy himbo jock interpretations of James Tiberius Kirk are silly and do a disservice to the character for a lot of reasons, not least of which is that it fundamentally ignores all the times in canon when Kirk is faced with a scientific discovery or oddity and you can see the effort it takes for him not to clap and skip with excitement. like in ‘the devil in the dark’ when Spock posits that they might be dealing with a silicon based life form and McCoy’s like “but that’s impossible!” and Kirk literally crosses the room to flirt talk excitedly with Spock about the prospect and how it could work! and what it would mean!

What I’m saying is, Kirk’s gotta be smart and a huge dork because how else could he pull a bad autistic bitch like Spock?

[blighted-lights]

someone needs to grab me by my neck and stop me from making a meta post about idw soundwave and the cassettes and about how his insistence that they are equals (or at least some of them are equals) is in direct contradictory with how he actually interacts with them/how their dynamic is written throughout idw. because as much as i do think they are generally a group that cares and relies on each other (minus ratbat, who has 0 reason to gaf about any of them and vice versa), i,,, ough. its messy.

i do not think this is a weird character writing moment, i actually think it's SUPER interesting to think and talk about. but i can't,, i shan't,,, unless ✍️👀

[tiktowafel]

do you ever think about how all you used to draw when you were 10 was ponies and that you should still know how to do that, then get an idea and proceed to draw something like these in nearly one sitting and it turns out better than any drawing you've done in the entire past month

sooo anyway does anyone have cutie mark or pony name ideas for them?? lol

[tomwambsgans]

the temptation to write a christmas romcom-esque tomgreg fic is calling me......

[heleentje]

So there's a take that crops up every so often in the Breath of the Wild fandom, and it goes something like this:

Windblight Ganon is such a piece of cake! If Revali were as talented as he claimed to be, he wouldn't have been defeated by it, so clearly he's just an arrogant blowhard.

I disagree. Because while Windblight might have been relatively easy for the player to defeat, circumstances conspired against Revali in every possible way.

Strike 1: The Blight Ganons were tailor-made to defeat the Champions

While it's not stated outright, the Blights seem to be custom-made to put their respective opponents at the worst possible disadvantage. So while Link can avoid the whirlwinds on the ground, they would be very disruptive to Revali's Gale (something he's only been able to do consistently for a short while). Arrows, too, can easily get blown off course by the wind even when using a heavy bow (so can a Rito, who is presumably lighter than a Hylian).

If, on top of that, it was raining (implied by memories #16 and #17), then Revali's favoured bomb arrows would have been useless. Not a great recipe for a fight.

Strike 2: Rito don't see well in the dark

Botw is a game that doesn't tell you a lot upfront, but you can find a wealth of information in every little corner. Case in point, in Gerudo Town there's a Rito named Frita. And she has a very interesting tidbit to share if you talk to her at night.

[Image ID: A Rito named Frita in Gerudo Town says: "Us Rito... We haven't got the best night vision, to be honest."]

When the Calamity emerged, an unnatural darkness blanketed the land. A darkness that persists from its appearance all the way through Link and Zelda fleeing and their final stand at Fort Hateno, up until Zelda temporarily sealed the Calamity (memories #15, #16 and #17).

That’s without even mentioning the laser show Windblight Ganon puts on. Ever encountered a car with LED lights on a dark road? Now imagine how Revali felt.

Strike 3: Revali had to fly non-stop for hours to get to Medoh

After sinking some hours into playing botw, you probably get used to warping all across the map via the shrines. Going from Lurelin to Rito Village is a matter of seconds. And if the Sheikah had been able to unlock the Sheikah Slate fully in the past, that would have been a massive boon to the war effort.

Unfortunately, they didn't. Which means that, when Calamity Ganon emerged, all the Champions had to take the long road to their Divine Beasts.

Now what does that mean for Revali? We can hazard a pretty good guess, but we don't have to, because the art book tells us: Revali flew straight from Lanayru East Gate to Rito Village. It's hard to tell exactly how long that would have taken him, but I'm estimating that would be about 8-10 hours flying non-stop.

[Image ID: A map of Hyrule showing the presumed routes the Champions took to get to their Divine Beasts. Revali's is a straight line across Hyrule.]

Which means Revali (like the other Champions) was probably already exhausted by the time he got to Medoh.

Aaaaaand that's three strikes, he's out!

But if that's not enough for you yet, here's one more thing. Admittedly, this is less solidly canon than the previous parts, but it's conjecture that, in my opinion, is backed up by the Champions' Ballad DLC.

Strike 4: Revali lacked his best weapon and may have been injured

The artbook shows us another salient tidbit. Revali could have detoured if he wanted to, but he didn't: he flew in the straightest possible line across Hyrule Field.

Hyrule Field, better known as the center of the chaos at the time.

Can we really expect a Champion, especially a Champion who's so eager to prove himself, to not stop and at least try to help? And while trying to help, what might have happened to him?

When you fight the Blights in the illusory realm, you gain a set amount of equipment, implied to be what the Champions carried with them at the time. And with Revali, something's missing.

[Image ID: The bow inventory during the DLC fight against Windblight Ganon. It includes a Falcon Bow, Duplex Bow and Phrenic Bow.]

Where's the Great Eagle Bow?

Would Rito Champion Revali, greatest archer in known Rito history, really not be carrying his signature bow, when every other Champion carried their favoured weapon?

This, combined with his route straight across Hyrule Field, makes me suspect that he did engage the Guardians, lost his bow, and may even have gotten injured in the process.

So there you have it. Just about everything was against Revali in that fight. And while Link, and by extension the player, may have had an easy time of it, they went into it at full health and with all the advantages of the Sheikah Slate.

Meanwhile, Revali arrived at Vah Medoh after a frantic hours-long flight only to be thrown into a fight he didn't expect against an opponent tailor-made to counter his every move, while he was unable to see properly and lacked his best weapon. And he still managed to put up one hell of a fight.

[happi-dreams]

emmyyy doodles aaaaa