#his focus will always be on the victims more than the aggressors

[angstandhappiness]

INTERESTING ADDITION

Lukewarm take, because there's already technically a comic run about it:

Thomas and Martha Wayne would've hated Bruce becoming Batman. Not just because they would hate him putting himself in danger every night, but because they were strong advocates of reform, and helping the people of Gotham in non-violent ways. They used their money for reform-- they were trying to fix up Park Row before they died-- and Thomas helped anyone and everyone he could, despite their backgrounds.

They would've hated that Bruce runs around punching people and then causing some of the worst villains to appear, and then doing the bare minimum to stop them.

They would hate it even more that He did it in their name.

and they would absolutely be horrified that he brought children into his war, and that he needs children to stop him from going too far.

TLDR: When Bruce meets Thomas and Martha in the afterlife, Martha slaps Bruce in the face, and Thomas just sighs and goes, "You remembered all of us wrong after we died."

[six-paths-of-jeanmarco]

You wanna talk about Reiner, Jean and Marco?

Okay, let's talk about Reiner, Jean and Marco. Buckle up, there's a lot to talk about.

Disclaimer: this is not an anti post to any character or ship, quite the opposite. Read the whole thing before you jump to conclusions, thanks :)

Well, yes and no. First and foremost, the background. Jean and the rest of the cadets, while each had a goal, were training to defend what they thought to be all that was left of the human species. For 100 years, the walls protected them, but they were no longer secure. The military was humanity's last hope of survival. With these unimaginably high stakes always looming over them, the cadets ought to have developed a complex bond that would be very hard to put into words. Let's just say they were something more than just siblings in arms, and you could tell that. Throughout the series, you never get the impression that Jean and the others truly wanted to kill RBA. It also explains why Marco questioned Reiner and Bert about their conversation before he even realized he's made a mistake.

However, we also have to remember this scene. This happened not long after Marco's death. Realistically speaking, I don't see how Jean wouldn't have harboured a healthy amount of hatred in his heart. But it never overcame him because his grief over losing Marco was much stronger than his hatred for those who caused it.

He won't get his answers from Annie, but he could get them from Reiner after they captured him in Shiganshina. He convinced Hange to not execute him due to a mix of the aforementioned bond and his need to understand what truly happened to Marco and what were the shifters' true goals. And of course, because preserving one's life, even an enemy's, is in Jean's nature.

There's so much to unpack here, but first, let's focus on the idea that "the people who killed Marco were the same as Jean himself", which is a false equivalence supported by other false equivalences.

There's RBA's mission to commit straight up genocide against Paradis, and the raid of Liberio or Eren's plan to steal the War Hammer, ensure that the world hates Paradis, and use his friends as his escape route. Sure, the Scouts could have chosen not to aid Eren, let him be captured, lose the Founding Titan, and allow Marley to destroy them once and for all. Not a hard choice at all, right? The only thing that those two events have in common is the fact that the shifters were responsible for almost all of the casualties. In fact, as a commanding officer, Jean did everything in his power to avoid civilian casualties in Liberio. He even failed to kill Falco and Pieck.

Then there's Marco's murder and the clash with the Yeagerists. All I'm going to say about the former at this point is that Reiner had other options to keep Marco from endangering their mission other than killing him. But fundamentally speaking, the two situations share nothing in common. The circumstances that led to them happening, the power dynamics between the parties involved, the stakes, and the context itself makes them practically unrelated. The alliance had to leave the island or the Rumbling would have ended the world. The Yeagerists gave them no choice other than to fight them. Saying that Reiner and Jean are "the same" it's like saying a killer who murdered their victim is just as bad as a survivor who killed their aggressor in self defense. The killer could've chosen not to commit murder, whereas the survivor didn't have a choice. In this case, the world is the victim while the Yeagerists are complicit for interfering with the only people that could stop the Rumbling. Of course, that doesn't mean Jean shouldn't have felt anything after he killed his former comrades, he'd be ooc.

In fact, these aren't just my thoughts. Some of these points are made by Isayama himself:

Notice how Yelena frames the raid as a nation wide attack? Except, that's not what it was at all. The Scouts only attacked the internment zone while Eren and Armin ravaged it and the port of Liberio respectively, two locations in one of the thousands of cities an empire as large as Marley must've had. And they did so to prevent Marley from gaining the means that would've allowed them to destroy Paradis. As for what Reiner and Annie did to the walls and their people, Yelena's accusations are hitting the nail.

These issues are never properly addressed in the following chapters. Instead, they were used to lay the foundations for the "we're the same" fallacious dialogue. Isayama didn't have to throw every single Scout in the same gray soup as the Warriors since they've already proven to be complex characters in the previous arcs. His own writing didn't support it. Imo, that's why he failed in this regard.

The campfire scene is a highlight, that one thing is true. It's extremely important for Jean and Marco's relationship. Marco wasn't just Jean's most significant person throughout the series (aside from his mom), he was also his most significant loss. A wound in his very being.

Not knowing what truly happened to Marco, what were his last moments, was an open wound on its own. When Reiner finally confessed, Jean had the closure he'd thought he'd never get. Now he could start the long process of healing - partially, because such pain never truly goes away. You just learn how to live with it, and Jean already has plenty of experience in that field. I think this is a very powerful message, important too. Grief is not something inherently bad. It's up to you what you do with. You either allow it to consume you, or you hold it tight, you cherish it as a sign that what you had was real, still is real, you let it shape you into a better person, one that understands pain and wishes for no one to have to go through something similar. Jean is the latter, ever the kind-hearted man.

This should have been Jean and Marco's intimate moment, but Reiner intruded on it with his self-pitying babbling. There are lines that mustn't be crossed. That's when Jean snapped and attacked him. He didn't do anything after he learned the truth, just told Reiner to shut up, which he didn't do.

There's a glaring difference between Jean's reaction and what Reiner did after Marco overheard his discussion with Bert, what he did after Marco begged him to talk it over, to talk with him. He executed him like an animal; worse than that, he betrayed him, crushed his soul, denied him any chance of survival, left him behind for the titan to finish the job.

Marco was kind, understanding, supportive, good-natured, bright, forgiving, a true leader worth following. He wanted to serve the king because that's how he thought he could serve his people best (this is clearly inspired by the relationship the people of Japan had with their emperor before he renounced his divine status). Yes, he was also wrong about some things he didn't have the chance to understand as one of the early deaths. But Marco represented something we should all strive to be: a good human being.

On the other hand, Reiner strived to be a hero. Someone who'd wipe out all the devils. Someone driven by selfish ideals that have been shaped by prejudice and hatred. Only a monster would kill someone like Marco. As I said earlier, he had other choices to deal with him. He already broke his legs, so Marco would've been entirely dependent on his help to survive. Reiner could've coerced him to keep quiet or else Bert would kill everyone with his shifter ability, or even force him to aid Annie with gathering intel in the inner walls. Reiner knew Marco wasn't stupid, he would've complied with his demands, if not to save himself, at least to prevent a disaster. And yet, Reiner still chose to murder him, a choice that only a monster could make, a choice that would ruin his mental health, a choice that would turn him into a shell of a man.

If there's one character that is bound to Marco by trauma and guilt, it's Reiner. He was no hero as his story was written with the blood of his many victims. Killing Marco forced Reiner realize he was the monster all along, not the people he was sent to exterminate. Not the people he didn't see as people. His trauma was so egregious because he couldn't face this monster that would murder someone like Marco, - and once he did - because he couldn't stand this monster that was he. Quite ironic to say that Marco symbolizes naivety while the hero that never was was falling apart as the realization of what he did started to kick in. Hard.

Combined with this realization, that choice would make him do the right thing in the end. To me, this was the whole point of Reiner's character arc. To stress the idea that a single choice fueled by hatred has an unmeasurable weight and only leads to unthinkable consequences. It's about doing the right thing after constantly doing the wrong thing. It's about showing that there is no us vs them and that the dehumanization of the Other only leads to mass destruction and self destruction. Change is not impossible as long as you keep moving forward and you give meaning to pain and guilt. Unless you stand for nothing, kill for nothing, and then die for nothing, like Bert did. A literal representation of the quote "Apathy is death". Or end up as self-centered as Annie, to the point where you'll unapologetically say you'd do it all again. Instead of saying you'd try to change your actions. But Reiner did change. He joined forces with Jean and the rest because he was finally able to see them as what they always were: human beings whose lives are just as precious as all the lives in the world. And that his own life might still be worth something. Reiner hurt Jean far too deep to fully reconciliate, but they were no longer divided by hatred.

Take away the impact Marco had on him and you'd do Reiner a great disservice.

Jean could've also chosen to do some things different. He could've returned to the camp and kill Reiner and Annie in their sleep. Cut off their heads and return back to Paradis as a hero, and finally have the quiet life that he wanted, but he didn't. Or he could've stayed in that forest for the rest of his life, to hell with everyone else, but he didn't. It wasn't because Marco's expectations had him on a leash.

Learning the truth about what happened to Marco, learning his final words made him realize that he became a man worth Marco's timely praise. And that man would never let resent, revenge, or retribution turn him into a monster. He is a man that always chooses to do the right thing because he strives against his own demons, and Marco is the person who helps him choose this life.

It's not trauma nor guilt that keeps Jean and Marco connected, it's love, be it platonic or romantic. How can it be anything else? Marco gave him this moment:

And before this, Marco told him he's cut out to be a leader. Marco told him "I'm alive because of you". Marco made him smile for real. Do you know how much of an impact just a few words of encouragement can have on a 15 years old boy with low self esteem and no real purpose in life? He'll never forget them for as long as he lives, especially if they're coming from someone who means a lot to him. How can you take something as meaningful as that and turn it into something ugly? Marco gave him clarity.

Marco's neither a blessing nor a curse. Especially not the latter. This is how Jean remembers him four years after he had found his lifeless corpse:

Of all his fallen comrades, Jean only sees him. This is the face that Jean turns to in his darkest hours. The eyes that look back at Jean are soulful, kind, sincere, comforting. Marco's facial expression is warm and tender. You wouldn't tell this was a 16 years old boy who had died a most gruesome death.

It matters too little they don't have cameras in Paradis, no picture could reproduce Marco's image with as much love as Jean's mind does. And it matters that much when you think about how much symbolism there is in aot. None of this is coincidental at all.

Jean always turns to Marco for hope, for strength, for solace, and to remind himself of his own kindness, that in a world as cruel as that of aot, there's still love and there's still light, if not outside, then within.

Marco's no curse, no blessing, no symbol, he is just a boy whose words and actions had a great impact on those around him, especially on his best friend (and dare I say, soulmate) who misses him dearly. He left his mark on the plot and themes of aot, whether you want to acknowledge that or not.

Edit: Forgot to add this (my drafts are a mess):

I do agree that Jean saving Reiner's life is important. No, they could never go back to being friends. Who'd be friends with their best friend's murderer? I'll say it again, Reiner hurt Jean far too deep for them to ever fully reconciliate. Besides, Jean himself stated that he could never forgive him for what he did. The logic is sadly not logic-ing with this one. But that doesn't mean he cannot see Reiner as a human being. The difference between Reiner and Jean is that Jean always saw everyone as people.

It's important because it shows how far Jean has come. It's important because it shows how much truth was in Marco's words right from the beginning. Jean is humanity's best - not because he is flawless, far from it, but because this flawed man will always find the strenght to do what's right. Because when good men go to war, they don't see sides, not really, they see the horrors of their actions.

In a way, aot is Jean's story. And Reiner's. And Marco's. I still have plenty of criticism for this series, but the web of complex relationships between these three characters is one of the things that Isayama did right.

[sebastansmut]

Insatiable.

You watched Steve with careful eyes as he once again made his way into your plushy prison cell.

By your calculations you had probably been locked away in his basement for about a week now, and each day becomes more confusing and frustrating than the last. The first few days felt like an apocalyptic type nightmare that you would discover as your reality upon waking up. Then just as the denial began to dissipate, things had certainly taken an unexpected turn last night when he had invited you up for dinner.

“Why did you ask me what it tasted like?” Steve questioned, his eyes squinting down at your sitting figure. He was holding a plastic grocery bag with what looked like clothes inside of it.

You took a moment to study his expression, trying to discern what type of mood he was in. He was hard to read but you adapted quick; So far you had managed not only to not piss him off, but a part of you felt like he had taken a personal interest in you- not just your meat. Trying your best to make your eyes as big and doe-like as possible, you looked up at him through your lashes. “Just curious, I suppose.” Though that wasn’t exactly the truth; This situation was very layered.

Squinting down harder, he bit his lip in contemplation for a moment before finally deciding to drop the grocery bag in front of you. “Well, I was thinking we could have dinner tonight.” His tone lowered as did he, crouching down in front of you. With his sudden proximity you could see the ferocity In his eyes. It made you gasp; Much to his pleasure. “And we can see how curious you really are.”

Though after he spoke he had yet to stand back up. Suddenly, his hand reached out for the side of your face, cupping your cheek as you held your breath. He smirked at the reaction and ran his thumb over your cheek in soothing motions. You found yourself melting into his touch with a deep exhale.

He chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through you and again, cursing an involuntary shudder to ring throughout your spine. “Mmmm, If I didn’t know better princess I’d say you were enjoying my presence.”

I mean, it’s not like you weren’t. As much as you hate yourself for admitting it, some part of you had grown attracted to your aggressor. Despite the preliminary seething anger and feelings of betrayal he had caused to stir up inside of you the night of your capture, you had also discovered an ever-growing infatuation.

While you must admit the idea of him slowly dismembering and consuming you was unnerving, he had yet to actually take any part of you. Not that you didn’t believe he wouldn’t, but as the days come and go you can hear the other girls faint screams and fruitless sounds of struggle as Steve would take them up to his operating room; Yet not once had he taken you from your cell.

Except for tonight. A voice rang in your head, looking down upon the bag in front of you. Inside was a nice, silky black mid-length dress and a few basic makeup items. No shoes, though. You thought, staring down at the same socks you had been wearing for almost a week.

But right now, you were trying to focus on the positive. While your situation was all but desirable, if tonight’s dinner went well, you had a feeling things were about to improve for you. If you had to guess, serial killers and crazed cannibals don’t often wine and dine their victims.

And you were right.

Disregarding the connotation that came with last nights dinner, you had to chalk it up to a success. In addition to finally bringing you some nice clothes with your dress, a simple sweater and skirt, Steve also threw in an assortment of basic makeup items in your bag. While it wasn’t everything you could have hoped for, the mascara and lip gloss he gifted you definitely worked to make your face look more sultry during your meal together.

You can admit you weren’t great at too many things, but you could always tell when a man was attracted to you; and the way Steve’s eyes never strayed from you didn’t go unnoticed.

They frequently darted between your eyes and your mouth, almost like watching you eat the meals he made got him off. It probably did. Your brain reminded you. Use it.

With slow motions you cut off another piece of the dish he prepared you, and brought it up to your mouth while never breaking eye contact. You could see the way his pupils grew and eyes darkened, prompting you to gently part your lips just ever so slightly; and take a small, careful bite. Trying to ignore what exactly it was that you were eating, you tried your best to make it look like the best bite you had ever taken.

From there, things got interesting to say the least. While the sexual tension between you two was palpable, nothing that Steve did or said gave you enough confidence that his attraction to you was stronger than his desire to consume you. At least, not until right now.

As Steve stood in front of you, you remained crouched down on your knees looking to at him through your mascara-coated lashes. “Yes?”

Though he remained silent, you could tell he was thinking about what to do by the way his jaw was clenching. Such a sharp jawline.

Still silent, he crouched down in front of you, his eyes burning holes into you. It almost worried you, the way he wasn’t speaking. His usual light banter was typically how you could tell he was in a good mood.

Trying your best to keep somewhat of a poker face, you cocked your head to the side slightly. “Steve,” you began, your voice gentle as possible,” are you oka-“

A sudden choke cut you off as Steve’s hand clamped tightly around your neck. “Shut up,” he breathed, “and let me think.” The devious look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine.

Fear began to pool inside your abdomen...along with something else. A small whimper escaped you as you took in the delicious situation. As much as he scared you, Steve enticed you even more. Besides the fact that you’ve always been an outcast and he was impossibly good at making you feel seen, his lifestyle was alluring.

And he was just a gorgeous specimen.

“You like that, don’t you?” He said through his teeth, bringing you back to reality. “I knew it. You’re filthy. You want to be daddy’s little whore.”

Your eyes grew wide, not believing the moment you’ve been craving ever since he tied you up on the first night was actually happening.

Not that you hadn’t had sex before he captured you, you had; and it was good, but Steve was playing a part back then. He acted with reservations, inhibitions.

You both did.

But now, now as you sit there relishing in the feel of his hand around your throat, you could both be free.

“Yes, daddy.” You choked out, your eyes closing as you threw your head back.

He scoffed and gripped your neck harder, a nasty smirk curling on his lips. “I fucking knew it.” His free hand hooked onto the waistband of your sleep shorts, “You pretended to be happy in your fancy corporate world,” then suddenly his hand plunged, “but , I know what you really want.” As his fingers teased their way into your folds you couldn’t help but to fidget at the sensation; Your eyes even rolled back for a brief moment. “You want to submit to someone. To me. You don’t want to ever use that pretty little head of yours for anything other than giving me pleasure.”

Steve began to gently spread his fingers and you gasped suddenly, relishing in the feeling. “Steve I-“

Your head was slammed into the wall behind you and the grip on your neck suddenly became threatening. “Bad girl,” he brought his lips up to your ear, “you know what my name is.”

Another whimper escaped you as you moaned out his new title. “Daddy, please.” His fingers began to move again, but just ever so slightly. You whined again.

“What’s wrong my dumb little bunny?” He teased, “please what?” The more gravely his voice got the tighter you felt yourself clench.

Oh god, he was gonna make you say it.

You tried to buck your hips around to attempt to create some friction but your efforts were thwarted when Steve held down your hips. “Nuh-uh-uh.” He clicked, taking his hand out from inside my shorts and causing me to let out a huge whine. The smirk that painted itself on his face grew wider at my reaction. “What is it, ____?”

You tried your best to throw your biggest, most pouty-expression on him. “Daddy, please stop teasing me.” Looking up at him through your eyelashes you silently pleaded with him. “I need to feel you.”

Suddenly you were pushed onto the floor, and as you laid on your back you watched the man above you grow hungry with desire. He quickly threw his shirt off over his head, revealing the impossibly perfect physique you had been craving since your last night together.

His teeth suddenly sunk into your neck with a delicious sting; coinciding with the return of his hand down your shorts, you gasped, and you felt his low chuckle vibrate through your body. “Mmm, you are so delicious.” Steve’s whispers danced across your neck as he nibbles on your earlobe. “My dumb, beautiful, complacent little cumslut.” One of his fingers teased your entrance mercilessly as you relished in the way he spoke to you.

It was easy for you to loose yourself like this. To just completely surrender your body and mind to Steve; Anything he wants, you’ll give him, just as long as he keeps touching you.

Once you felt his long finger slip inside you your eyes closed and a moan escaped from deep in your chest. You bucked your hips trying to meet his hand in a thrust.

“You want it rough, huh?” He chuckled, his eyes growing darker as he stared down with a sinister look. “What a dirty little slut.” Pulling his finger back out, you whined at the loss, and he started to tease your slick folds again, making him chuckle.

As another one of his fingers slid over, and across, but never inside you, a loud whine left you with impatience. You looked up at him, your eyes pleading for him to completely take over, but you knew he was having too much fun watching you squirm to make it that easy.

But this wasn’t your first rodeo, and it looked like it was about time to flip the script and pull out the tricks.

Releasing any inhibitions you previously held, each movement he made elicited a sultry moan or mewl, and tried your best to muster up the most sensual expression possible. Your eyes fluttered close when his speed picked up, and he finally plunged two of his digits inside you.

A high pitched squeak left your mouth at the sudden movement- a sound that drove Steve crazy. His smirk grew from ear to ear as he continued to plunge into you with the same delicious brute force that made you cry out the first time. Steve relished in the sounds of your moans bouncing off the walls. He loved to be the one to do this to you.

“_____, you really are irresistible.” His praises washed over you, adding to your euphoric state as he continued pumping his fingers into you at a steady rate. “I knew from the moment I saw you that I’d have to have you. I knew I’d have to make you mine forever.” Suddenly, his hand focused in on your bundle of nerves, applying a delicious amount of pressure in a circular motion that made you scream out in pleasure.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you relished in the feeling. “Fuck daddy,” You breathes, arching your back to meet his hand,” you make me feel so fucking good!” Thrashing your hands around in their binds, you fervently thrust your hips up, trying desperately to create the friction you so craved.

A low chuckle vibrates through his chest as he finally obliged your requests, plunging his hand a bit deeper, and with just a bit more of the delicious force he was using. As he curled his fingers another sultry mewl rolled off your tongue, eagling him on. “You are such a nasty little slut, moaning for me.” Steve’s free hand cupped your face, “I bet you’ve been wanting this ever since you woke up chained to my floor.”

You nodded, a meek look in your eyes as you looked up at the handsome devil above you.

“And I love it when you fucking look at me like that, god.” He breathed out, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Like a beautiful, complacent little bunny. My bunny.” Your sexy new title rolling of his tongue was music to your ears and you let out another sharp squeal of joy, followed by a brief case of the giggles, making him smirk even more. As he picked up the pace you spread your legs open further, trying desperately to get him to fuck you.

“Daddy,” you whined, your eyes closed as he slipped his fingers in and out, and all over your slick pussy. “deeper daddy, please.”

Steve continued staining down at your possesively, watching how you responded so eagerly to every little touch. “You want it deeper baby?” He cooed, slipping in a third finger and beginning to pump incredibly, incredibly slow. An evil look came into his eye “I think you’re gonna have to do something for me first.” And before you could ask what, he took his fingers out of you and began to speedily undo his pants.

It felt like not a moment passed before you were faced with his impressive length, plopping promptly out of his pants and bouncing around deliciously.

Without much warning, he grabbed the back of your head and steadied himself as he shoved his dick inside your mouth, and down your throat. You moaned deeply as he began to push in and out.

“Fuck yes just like that.” He hissed, his mouth hanging open with pleasure. “Be a good little slut for me.”

You closed your eyes and relished in the moment; possibly the hottest sex you’ve ever had— and you haven’t even fucked yet.

Swirling your tongue and sucking extra hard for a little pizzazz that you hoped would impress Steve, you wished your hands weren’t still bound in their shackles so you could use them to help.

But it was kind of hot being tied up like this.

He suddenly jerked himself forward even harder, and held your head down to keep himself deep inside you for a long pause, causing a deep guttural moan to rise from your chest.

The vibrating sensation deliciously encapsulated his already throbbing member deep in your throat and Steve threw his eyes back in pure pleasure. He knew he had found what he had been looking for his whole life.

He pulled himself out with a pop, and saw a glob of saliva drip down your chin, enticing him to smear it all over your face as you continued to look up at him with those delectable “fuck-me” eyes. His smirk grew from ear to ear as he finally gave your chest a hard push, and as you fell on your back he quickly spread your legs open and crawled over you.

Positioning himself at your entrance, he placed a hand over your neck, and whispered in your ear,

“Are you ready for me, princess?”

xxxxxx

A/N: Ahhhhh guys I did it! I wrote ! If you liked it, comment, and there will be a part 2 ! If you have any other requests pls hit my ask box as it is open 😃

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : AUGUST 1993

FOCUS SHERRI NEEDS IT.

Transcript Below!!!

Nobody doubts that Sensational Sherri is a tough customer. But is she tough enough to handle that crazed spitfire Luna? Lots of people are asking that question. So are we at World Wrestling Federation Magazine. 

Sherri’s got a bug size edge over Luna. That’s quite obvious. But if you saw that brawl between the two of them on Monday Night Raw a while back, you know that Luna’s not awed by Sherri’s size. Luna’s smaller but tough like rawhide. And she’s tough mentally as well as physically. It just doesn’t seem to us that Sherri has as much inner toughness–not to mention meanness– as Luna. 

Still, we’ve got to admit that Sherri has been tested by any number of difficult situations. She’s been through the wrestling mill and was able to handle some real battles while managing the Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase and Macho Man Randy Savage. Her dedication to Shawn Michaels was painfully evident. She took a terrific shot with his mirror, but she was able to weather both the blow and his subsequent betrayal and come up swinging. 

However, it looks as if Luna’s toughness is more focused than Sherri’s. Luna seems totally intent on destroying Sherri and using her as a stepping stone to World Wrestling Federation fame. Not that Sherri doesn’t have it for Luna. She’d like to scratch out Luna’s eyes. But, from the beginning, Luna has been very much the aggressor, forcing Sherru into a defensive posture. 

Luna knows it, and she’s been working on Sherri’s mind. We think that Luna is trying very hard to force Sherri into accepting the fact that it is Sherri who must defend herself while Luna attacks. 

A key part of Luna’s plan is to destroy Sherri’s self-confidence, something that in the past has always helped her get through bad times. Not long ago, Luna sought out one of our writers and began spewing out insults and threats aimed at Sherri. Her purpose was blatant–intimidation of Sherri.

With a leer, Luna proclaimed, “From this day on, I am the vandal of Sherri’s mind. Sherri is just a fool swept up in her own hocus-pocus. She is a victim of my reality. I am the woman who will make Sherri’s thoughts dark as midnight with no hope of dawn.” Luna had concentrated all her venom on Sherri with a single mindedness that is frightening. Sherri, it seems to us, doesn’t have that kind of mental makeup, at least at this stage of her life She’s sometimes a bit giddy, she is ruled by her emotions and she lacks the cold, calculating logic of Luna–logic touched by lunacy perhaps, but that makes her even more dangerous as far as Sherri is concerned. 

Our advice to Sherri is to recognize what Luna is trying to do. Don’t let your emotions cloud your mind. Maybe even forget that hate you rightfully feel toward Luna for trying to destroy you. Be cool. Focus on the threat that she poses and eliminate it. That way, you’ll eliminate Luna at the same time.

[iguessjustcallmesunflower]

I'm a Chainsaw Unaliver, But it's Okay. You're Safe

Losing Sunshine was hard, don’t get me wrong. I was absolutely crushed when I was told of his passing. It took me awhile to bounce back from it. Not long after, I was blocked by a close friend, and that one was tough to swallow, too. Bit by bit, I came back to life, though. It didn’t happen overnight. I had to swallow down my grief and focus on the other residents who may have needed me more. For a while I was on the ‘lockdown’ units. I wasn’t able to control my sadness as well as I can now, and I was a liability. That doesn’t mean there weren’t any outbursts.  

I’m a Chainsaw Murderer, but it’s Okay. You’re Safe.  

The Chainsaw Murderer is one of my personal favorite psych residents. We’ll say Conner. He’s been on the men’s unit for as long as I’ve worked there. At his own request. He is one of the few reasons I adore working on the men’s hall. If he is cycling, if his meds are readjusting themselves to his system (when he takes them), he’s a riot. He’s a riot in general.  

When we had two residents who were always, and I do mean always, at each other’s throats, they’d get into physical fights. A fifty-something-year-old-man would pick fights with a temperamental eighteen-year-old, and when staff finally broke them apart, the older man who play the victim and cry that he didn’t do anything. More than once, the staff was in the crossfire. Conner was one of the residents we could count on to defend staff if needed. Dayshift is always more than staffed; if a fight were to break out, they had nothing to worry about, there would always be another staff member to have their back. Nightshift is kind of screwed. Two aids for the outside four halls, (most are independent and can do for themselves) and one on each of the units. We got the short end of the stick. We just couldn’t get anyone to stay on once hired.  

One night, fifty and eighteen broke out in a fight. Conner took fifty and shoved him down the hall, while I kept eighteen in the dining room. We got them separated, but in the time it took Conner to get to the dining room, I took a shove into a table from fifty. My ribs were still healing from the damage my ex-husband had inflicted, and I think eighteen realized that by a yelp I didn’t quite hide as well as I thought I did. His focus was immediately off his aggressor, off offense and on defense. He channeled his anger away and made sure I was okay and kept me calm while Conner kept fifty down the hall and called to other residents for help. A few came into the dining room; the rest went down to help Conner. The rest of the staff came back onto the hall after fifty had gone to his room, still shouting that he was innocent and the “staff bitch” shouldn’t have gotten in his way, I deserved what I got. For over ten minutes after the fight, Conner, eighteen, Chuckles, Tiny, and Happy Feet stood guard until the other staff finally came back to the hall to see what was going on.  

Conner is a special one, in the sense that he can make you laugh and raise an eyebrow while shaking your head. I’m not talking a polite laugh, I’m talking a belly laugh, one from your soul. One night, he sat across the table from me and asked if I wanted to smoke with him. Their smoke break had long since passed, and before I could tell him, he pulled a fake joint out of his pocket and we passed it back and forth. He’d cough, and make comments like “That’s some primo shit, right?” And I couldn’t do anything but stifle my laugh and agree.  

Conner didn’t just stop there though. He offered me an eightball once. I declined, obviously, and told him they drug test. He turned white as a ghost and whispered, “Residents too?” After reassuring him it was just staff, he was alright and back to normal. But man, those few seconds he was terrified. Of course, we’re a drug-free facility, but man, his imaginary joints hit the spot.  

My most favorite, and probably fondest memory of Conner is when he came out of his room one morning. My relief was an hour and a half late already, I was crabby, borderline pissed. Class the day prior, no nap, and coming in straight to work? I was a bitch. It had been a long night dealing with another resident who had tried his hardest to get sent out (he was instead gifted a 10:2 injection), I was nothing short of exhausted.  

The men’s unit has stray cats they fed that would wait outside. I think they even knew their smoke break times. No big, it was almost their next smoke break, not unusual to see them waiting. Conner comes out of his room, humming the ‘Star Spangled Banner’, sees two of the three cats outside the door, and immediately yells, “Guys! The cats are fucking!” And watches them while continuing to hum. It was exactly the laugh I needed. I belly laughed until I was snorting, then laughing harder because I had snorted, and couldn’t breathe. My face was red, I was struggling, and the dang chair almost tipped over because of how fast I had to put my head between my knees so I didn’t hyperventilate.  

The men’s unit has its challenges, but I don’t think anything can compare to Conner. He himself wasn’t a challenge; it was just a challenge to not laugh when he was around. He is absolutely the comedic relief on that hall. There was another instance when he was in the dining room. It was around one in the morning. I hear a revving noise, mimicking the sound of a chainsaw. While he’s never been a danger to himself, I still went to check it out. It was Conner, wielding an imaginary chainsaw, complete with sound effects. The conversation went something to the effect of:  

“You okay?”  

“Yup.”  

“Whatcha doin’?”  

“I’m a chainsaw murderer. Don’t worry, you’re safe.”  

Conner represented the best of that hall. He really did. It didn’t matter to him that he was a lifer. He felt safer back here. The staff made him feel safe back there, and in a literal way, that’s all anyone in that building wanted and needed. At one point or another, everyone just wants to feel safe.  

If more of the residents were like Conner, and less about starting drama, I’d have stayed. I really would have. Even after graduating and getting hired somewhere else, I would have stayed to work a few days every month. I would have. I would never have left without knowing how my lifers were doing. Even right now, sitting on a COVID hall, writing this, I’m watching one of my lifers I hold near and dear to my heart to make sure he’s alright. I tear myself up every single time I think of leaving them, because it will absolutely annihilate me when they pass and I’m not here.  

But you have to do what’s best for you. Even if that means sacrificing your worries and concerns for another person. I’ll always be welcome back at the facility. My boss has made that clear. However... I don’t see myself returning unless I’m dispatched out there. My residents will always be safe and warm. They’ll have full bellies. And that’s honestly all I can ask for. They’re the throwaways, the misfits, the unwanted, the strays, and yet they’re all, every single one of them, my loves. They’re so sweet in their own, backwards ways. They forever have my heart.  

[yukisohmasmokesweed]

what are your opinions on the thought process that Shigure groomed Akito so he could have control over them?

i think this opinion is a massive oversimplification of akito and shigure's power dynamic that has roots in the latent sexist idea that men inherently have power over women, as well as the heteronormative idea that love between a man and a woman is inherently romantic.

first off, i think it's a pretty bizarre assumption that a child could have the wherewithal and foresight to enact a complex series of actions that relies on the aggressor having a working knowledge of children's needs and behavior and years of planning and execution. people like to cite shigure's childhood declaration that he "...want[s] to make that [love] last forever...to give it form and make it [his]" as a statement of intent to groom and control. not only is this an absurd thing to say about a child who can't be any older than 10, it disregards two vital facets of akito and shigure's relationship: the magic in combination with shigure's own trauma. in my opinion, these lines speak to the power of the bond and how shigure interprets it. hatori and ayame reject it, the former letting himself sink into despair over his lack of control and festers in resentment, the latter completely removing himself from family life in order to avoid it. shigure, however, copes with the curse by diving in head first; just like the rest of the zodiac, he knows that there is no way out, so he embraces the good things about it in order to cope. in addition to this, though we don't know much about shigure's upbringing, we can assume based on his short interaction with his parents that he came from an emotionally neglectful home (expanded on here), so the prospect of unconditional love from akito is something he craves. i think these are much more reasonable motivations for the beginning of shigure's obsession rather than positing that grooming a person he had never met before he even went through puberty was his goal.

with regards to gendered power dynamics, i think this take severely underestimates the amount of abuse shigure withstands from akito. the idea that shigure is somehow in control of the relationship is simply not true; their relationship is DEFINED by their power struggle, which is a game that akito was winning until the very end. it ignores that men can be abused (and we see him being abused by akito, both physically and emotionally), and it also ignores that, in many toxic and abusive relationships, there is not always someone who is purely a victim. shigure is undoubtedly horrible to akito back��he is vindictive, cruel, and cold towards them. he also knows full well that he is one of akito's most important emotional supports and uses this position to manipulate them. however, his gender and age does NOT give him power over akito. he must do as akito says, both because of the magic and akito's position as the family head. while their relationship is not necessarily a victim-and-perpetrator situation, the power dynamic clearly favors akito, who is literally all-powerful and a professional abuser.

with regards to the heteronormative idea that men and women who love each other is inherently romantic: the scene most often referenced for this opinion is the scene between teenage shigure and child akito in chapter 101 where he tells akito he loves them. i do not interpret this scene to be romantic whatsoever, and i actually think it's really weird and telling that so many people do. these are two people whose only comfort is one another and have known each other since early childhood; i don't think it's weird at all for shigure to tell akito he loves them in this situation. given fb's focus on familial and platonic love, how platonic love can transform into romance, and the fact that akigure is a parallel to kyoru, i interpret this scene as entirely familial/platonic.

i can understand why people have this opinion: shigure is a man, and he's older, and he is a manipulator. he gives people very visceral reactions because he's incredibly well written. his actions do also fit into some of the stages of grooming, but it falls apart upon closer look (source): he targets a child (ie, he becomes close with his cousin who he is supernaturally bonded to against his free will), he gains the child's trust (ie, they become friends), and he fills a need, in this case akito's lack of parental support, all of which he does as a child himself. he does not, and cannot, isolate the child because he doesn't have the power to—akito's status would prevent them from being completely isolated (a good example of akito's position inherently giving them more power). when it comes to sexualizing the relationship, we just don't know, there isn't enough textual evidence to argue either way. as for the last step, maintaining control, shigure does NOT try and make akito think he is the only person who can fulfill akito's emotional and physical needs. in fact, he's doing the opposite; he WANTS akito to meet and be changed by tohru, and he has no problem with akito's intimate relationship with hatori, who probably provides more emotional and physical support to them than anyone. you could argue that shigure is trying to isolate akito by driving the other zodiacs away, but i don't think shigure attempting to separate an abuser from their victims is what "isolate" is meant to reflect here. so, as we can see, shigure fulfills SOME of the stages of grooming, but i don't think they hold up to scrutiny if you're thinking about fb in a nuanced and world-appropriate way.

i can also see why people misinterpret shigure's bid for control as some sort of abuse, but he states that he wants to be equal with akito, not above. i do think there is an aspect of misogyny here; shigure's masculinity, and the role that masculinity grants him in society, is threatened by akito's control over him, but i don't think having fragile masculinity and making grabs for power because of it when you're in an abusive relationship is abuse in turn.

i'm not trying to absolve shigure of anything here. he is cruel, he is manipulative, and he does things to hurt akito on purpose whether it's in revenge or not. but i don't think shigure meets the standards of being a groomer, and i think this assumption, in addition to what i previously stated, is a symptom of fandom misusing buzzwords to gain points. it's not a nuanced view and i think a lot of it, in my experience, comes from projection; shigure, in all his awfulness, is extremely easy to project onto. however, i think that there are some things in fb that are just not analogous to real life, and that this aspect of akito and shigure's relationship is one of them.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)

“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹

I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen. 

I picked it up and inspected the damages.

There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.

MC: Can this… still be saved…?

Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.

Osborn: What a big commotion.

Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?

I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.

MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.

Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.

He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.

MC: Is it too damaged to fix?

Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.

He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.

This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.

MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?

Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?

MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?

MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?

Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.

Osborn: You want to help me fix it?

MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.

MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?

MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?

He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.

Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.

Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.

Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.

The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.

MC: Oh, okay.

Osborn: Take it.

My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.

Osborn: I'm waiting.

I took the toolbox from him and opened it.

I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.

I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.

MC: What's this?

Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.

MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.

Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...

Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.

Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?

MC: Not for now.

Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.

MC: Okay.

First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.

This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.

When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.

Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?

I hesitated.

MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.

MC: I don't know if it works the same…

Osborn: See my demonstration first then.

He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.

I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.

Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.

He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.

It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.

Osborn: Get it?

MC: Mmhm...

I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.

After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.

MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?

Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.

My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.

MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?

Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.

Osborn: I'll think about it.

MC: Does this even need to be considered?

MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!

MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!

Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.

The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.

MC: What's wrong?

Osborn: You got something on your face.

I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.

Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…

MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!

Osborn: What gives?

MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!

Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?

Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.

I was taken aback, nonetheless.

MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!

Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!

MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!

I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.

Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.

And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.

Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.

MC: No moving!

Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.

Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.

MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!

MC: No use trying to escape!

I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.

MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?

Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.

Osborn: An air drawing?

MC: Dream on!

Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.

MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.

MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~

Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head. 

I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.

❖☆———————————★❖

I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder. 

Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.

Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.

The surroundings lapsed into silence.

I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.

I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.

I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Done?

I nodded.

Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?

Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?

I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.

MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!

He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.

Osborn: Happy now?

MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.

Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.

He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.

I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.

MC: ...What is it?

Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.

Mitt: Meow~ Meow~

The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.

I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!

MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!

I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.

A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.

Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.

MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.

Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: Just wait and see.

Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.

I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.

Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…

In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.

Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?

The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.

MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?

I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.

Osborn: Still wanna run?

❖☆———————————★❖

I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.

The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.

Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.

After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?

Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.

Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.

Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.

MC: !

MC: I touched it! How cute…

Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?

MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.

Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.

MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!

I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.

It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.

MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.

I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.

MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.

He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.

MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?

Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.

Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.

The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.

My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.

MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?

He quirked a brow.

Osborn: Why, you know me so well.

MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?

Osborn: You can say that.

MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?

Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.

Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.

MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.

Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?

MC: Huh? Thank me?

He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.

Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?

MC: ……

I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.

Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?

As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.

I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.

MC: Then, that makes me happier now…

MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…

MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.

Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.

Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?

I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.

At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.

The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.

Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.

I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

[darkshrimpemotions]

I get so annoyed watching the Hotch/Haley arguments in the early seasons, because I don't like Haley but she's also so clearly meant to be unlikeable. It's not subtle at all and if you look beyond what the writers are spoon-feeding the audience, it's really unfairly weighted to make Hotch seem like a victim.

Every argument they have goes like:

Hotch: *forgets something really important or breaks a promise he made*

Haley: *is upset and disappointed and guilt trippy and reminds him that his family should be a priority*

Hotch: *is sad and apologetic and guilty but never commits to doing better or shows any evidence of taking steps to actually find some kind of work/life balance*

These scenes are always played like Haley is the aggressor and Hotch is the poor beleaguered one, but really Hotch is the one not fulfilling commitments he made, forcing Haley into the position of trying to hold a grown-ass man accountable. We get to see lots of Hotch's turmoil over being a good enough father and husband, but none of Haley being left alone constantly. Hotch is painted as a victim to his own life, like he has no control over his own work/life balance.

And the writers consistently frame it as a problem not between Hotch and Haley, but between The Job and Haley, not only making Haley a minor antagonist given the nature and focus of the show, but also tacitly absolving Hotch of all responsibility to the woman he married and the child they had together.

It also makes Haley look really insensitive when Hotch gets suspended and she's just blatantly giddy about it and keeps trying to make Hotch be happy too even though he's obviously miserable. Only to then immediately have her escalate to getting angry at him and giving him an ultimatum in the same episode.

What's never acknowledged is that her anger is completely understandable. Hotch has demonstrated repeatedly by that point that obligations to his family are flexible in his mind, but obligations to his job are impossible to shake, even when he's suspended and asking for a transfer...even when doing so is directly detrimental to his home life. It's basically proof positive that Hotch is more dedicated to the BAU than to her and Jack.

This is a failing of the writers, IMO. They make it perfectly clear that Hotch would be miserable without his job, and that he constantly feels guilty about not being there for his family. But instead of ever dealing with how his actions and inability to delegate, set boundaries, and keep his promises got him to this point in the first place, they make Haley's anger the problem and villainize her for having needs that are inconvenient to Hotch.

She exists as a part of his story rather than as a real character, in a way that's so transparent it's hard to be invested in them as a couple. And it drives me crazy, because so much of Hotch's later development rests on this idea that he and Haley had this great love and that he lost her, but we only ever see the loss. Very little evidence of his love when it wasn't convenient for him.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so its no secret that I detest fandom’s obsession with Dick’s temper and how its one of his biggest character flaws, and that I looooooooooathe how much people fixate on that fight with Donna in NTT, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen anyone post the FULL scene with Dick and Donna rather than just selectively pull the panels in which Dick makes Donna cry, so I’ve included them all here so people can decide for themselves.

And keep in mind, as the last page I’ve included shows (with it taking place a mere THREE issues after this Dick and Donna fight)....Dick was quite literally NOT IN HIS RIGHT MIND at the time. This was a PLOT point, NOT a CHARACTERIZATION. The entire ‘road’ to this storyline was Dick deliberately and consciously being written as being more and more OUT of character, to SHOW that something was literally wrong with him. 

This includes his reaction to Kory when she got married on Tamaran - literally the issue BEFORE this fight with Donna, his abrasive attitude to Alfred when he visits Bruce, Alfred and Jason at Wayne Manor briefly upon returning to Earth, and this fight itself.

And lol, all anyone around him wanted to do was talk about how he needed ‘tough love’ from them and to be lectured on everything he was doing wrong rather than a SINGLE ONE OF THEM bothering to ask themselves - let alone him - WHY he was behaving so erratically and again, LITERALLY out of character. Why, no matter what personal problems he was having, they were having him react THIS way, lashing out at everyone around him, when Dick has ALWAYS had a lot of personal shit going on and yet this is absolutely NOT his standard, in character way of USUALLY dealing with that.....

Despite people both deliberately and unknowingly calling back to stories whose entire POINT is showing this behavior as out of character....

And using it to describe THAT VERY BEHAVIOR as being IN character.

So, please read these pages with that context in mind, keeping a firm awareness of the fact that Dick is literally battling mental conditioning he’s unaware of through all of this, while Donna on the other hand is NOT. And has NO excuse for the things she says and DOES.....

And yet, this fight only EVER comes up in demonstration of DICK’S temper and how its this great character flaw of his, and NEVER to say, DONNA has a temper and this is one of her character flaws.

Please ask yourselves why the fuck a fandom has spent thirty years since this issue framing this fight as Dick’s fault, proof of how cruel and awful HE can be, instead of....how even his closest friends are TYPICALLY characterized as having no patience with him when he’s acting out of character....even when there might very well be - and usually IS - a REASON he’s acting out of character, beyond ‘he’s going through some shit.’

And ESPECIALLY ask yourselves why the hell this fight comes up so often with it being cited - and panels provided as proof - that Dick makes Donna cry with the things he says (again, while brainwashed).....

But with ZERO mention of the facts that:

a) Dick told Donna from the outset that he wasn’t in the mood to have this argument and asked her to leave HIS apartment

b) Donna refused and said they were going to talk about this now whether he liked it or not

c) Donna - a character with super strength - physically manhandled Dick into staying put when Dick still insisted he didn’t want to do this now

d) Dick AGAIN makes the effort to de-escalate or break off the argument because he knows or feels strongly its going to get even LESS civil than it already has been, given the mood he is (and not knowing that this mood is again, at least partly due to turmoil from constantly fighting against brainwashing he himself isn’t even aware of)

e) When Donna STILL refuses to do him the COURTESY of listening to his repeated efforts to NOT DO THIS RIGHT NOW, Dick tries to go past her and leave his OWN apartment just to get away from her

f) Donna STILL refuses to allow this, physically shoving him back again to keep him from going anywhere until SHE’S good and ready for him to

g) only THEN does Dick go on the offensive (but also kinda the defensive, if you consider the fact that he’s repeatedly expressed HE DOESN’T WANT TO BE HERE OR DO THIS WITH HER and has tried more than once to get her to go or remove HIMSELF from the situation)....and its only at THIS point that Dick says the admittedly cruel things that make Donna cry and are the source of the ONLY panels from this whooooooole scene that I’ve ever seen provided in posts about how this demonstrates Dick’s temper

h) Donna - far from being a helpless victim of Dick’s cruel temper, the way its usually framed - responds with her OWN offensive, not just in the form of words, but - and I can not express enough how fucking uncomfortable it makes me that Dick is so often framed as the aggressor here, the one with the temper, the one OUT OF LINE when this happens in the same scene - Donna responds to what Dick says by LITERALLY PUNCHING HIM THROUGH A WALL

i) Donna then REMAINS just as much on the offensive as Dick himself, but whereas Dick’s offensive is in the form of words he’s saying to Donna - after being pushed and provoked despite repeated attempts of his to de-escalate or disengage (and again, WHILE brainwashed) - Donna’s offensive remains in the form of PHYSICAL AGGRESSION, as she repeatedly tries to attack HER FRIEND with her super strength, clearly not holding back as we see her demolishing the parts of HIS apartment her attacks actually connect with

j) Despite Donna changing the nature of their conflict from being just about words to being one of outright physical aggression - well not really changing, if you keep in mind the fact that Donna used physicality to force Dick to remain in the apartment long before they reached this point to begin with - Dick STILL makes ZERO effort to respond with any physical aggression of his own, despite her having ALL the advantages in a straight up physical conflict between them, and the fact that even ONE of those hits from her is going to do FAR more damage to him if it connects than ANYTHING he could do to her ever would, and instead, Dick remains committed to simply EVADING her physical attacks while doing zero to reciprocate with anything other than words

k) the conflict only concludes when Dick FINALLY - and despite Donna’s repeated and continued efforts - manages to get out of his OWN apartment and leave just to get away from her - as he was trying to do ALL ALONG

l) in the aftermath of the conflict, we only see Donna sitting on the floor of his demolished apartment, clearly upset but with no indication if that has ANYTHING to do with anything SHE actually did throughout it or if she’s still only focused on what he said to HER, whereas we’re treated to a full internal monologue from Dick where he’s clearly confused and upset with his OWN behavior and trying to justify it and make sense of it even just to himself, which again, plays right into the fact that from here he sets out to find Raven, which leads him straight into the clutches of the Church of Blood as it turned out he wasn’t sneaking in but rather being lured back in via....

m) the mental conditioning its revealed Dick’s had implanted thanks to them all along, and the ultimate SOURCE of all his erratic, OUT OF CHARACTER, and volatile behavior over the past year, as he’s been battling against it internally with no idea that’s what he was doing or why he was having dramatic mood swings and shifts in priorities and decision-making

But again.....the only thing that EVER gets mentioned about this entire conflict, and the only pages which are ever posted from it....

Are the ones where Dick makes Donna cry.

So. Yeah. THAT, and the fact that this particular fight is FOUNDATIONAL to the whole “Dick has an awful temper and lashes out at even his closest loved ones at times” characterization that’s influenced not just fandom, but other later writers of canon itself....

All without ZERO mention or awareness of the larger overall framing or even the fact that there were TWO people involved in this fight, but only Dick has the excuse of “I was literally brainwashed at the time tho” for what he says and does and he STILL wasn’t the one who initiated, escalated, repeatedly refused to take what the other wanted into account, and oh yeah, physically attacked him....

Like. This would be why I 100% can not stand talk of Dick’s temper and how its one of his greatest flaws, while literally every single character can be shown to be written as an asshole at times or having a temper when lashing out or hurt - such as say, Donna in this very same scene....

And the much, MUCH more consistent and frequently appearing pattern in canon is NOT Dick being this volatile jerk who often makes his friends and family the victim of his temper....but rather Dick himself is the victim of THEIR tempers and physical aggression, with this repeatedly and consistently glossed over and DELIBERATELY EXCLUDED FROM THE NARRATIVE in order to just focus SOLELY on Dick’s part of a fight and whatever he did or said that was wrong.

Also also also, just to reiterate, like I coincidentally (or is it a coincidence) have to keep doing with the Ric Grayson arc to get people to remember to be sympathetic to how DICK is affected by all this rather than how he’s VICTIMIZING his loved ones through all this, ALMOST FORTY YEARS AFTER THIS SCENE (lol my how things have changed).....

OH YEAH. AND HE WAS BRAINWASHED THOUGH.

Anyway, the pages in FULL, below the cut:

Skipping ahead to a mere THREE ISSUES LATER and the brainwashing reveal:

[odysseywritings]

The Right Leader

A woman with dark brown hair and brown skin looked out the window in a white dome of a building overlooking the sunset-glazed green hills. Her name was Mary Rauda-Gold of the Union HQ for Earth. An ambitious, careful public servant, she earned trust from even initial naysayers. Her experience in community, business, and political spheres turned her to a qualified, eager role as the leader of the Earth Front.

She researched former presidents carefully before First Contact and after. Rauda-Gold had no special interest to bribe her, or a family in the public sphere to fear blackmail for. A rare human who achieved a bucket list full of chances early on in life. A ravenous student for history, she came into the presidency asking a question. Can one be a good leader and a good person to so many people? The books detailing the “greats” with their disconnect to the very people who elected them bombarded her with numbing dilemmas on human and alien issues alike.

Early on, she made a promise to avoid mistakes of President Grayson, whose committed attempts to be openly aggressive while privately appeasing aliens set course for turbulent relations between human and alien. This led to the first aliens invading Earth, the jellyfish-like Rizen, to learn important resources for acquiring and populated areas for destruction and enslavement.

For three decades, Earth had been the sole territory of one race. But the vastness of riches made it appealing to more. Thus, the scramble for Earth intensified as more uprooted flora and drained water. Not only the Rizen, but the cycloptic Corax, the cyborg Teknos, the coral-like Brantius, and others plundered Earth with the doctrine being that all aliens mustn't attack each other in the name of peace.

Fearing for the future of the planet, the fragmented states communicated as much as possible. This unity was a temporary yet urgent coalition of democratic leaders, autocrats, religious leaders, and researchers banded together to come up with ways to gain independence. No single leader engineered a clear path for victory, and the struggle for a constant idea made people weary and frustrated. In the midst of voices, the loudest prevailed.  

The urgent Long’s voice resonated with the crowd. Tiptoeing the wire that could lead to falling down the side of warmongering populism or tepid reforms, she raised enough fervor to unify people into tangible goals. Spy networks to spread fabricated war plans of one alien race against another. Technology taken from the slain aliens, initially unobtainable from their aerial superiority, could be learned and used against the original wielders. Within a short duration, covert attempts at fighting the invaders soon gave way to a snowball effect of more procured technology that included spacecraft. It was still lopsided, and the humans’ wit and knowledge of their home took years for momentum to fully hit the aliens’ mother planets.

A string of news carried across the stars as sympathetic aliens protested the wars and demanded Earth remain free. Opinions from the politicians carried the stench of condescension, saying humans could not rule themselves and needed assistance. But time soured that notion, with using mother planets’ money and lives to continue a hated invasion. Not long until then were other aliens combating each other for more dominance over Earth regions.

As extraterrestrial grips loosened and more technology scattered, Long and others could now engage in more significant guerrilla warfare. The snowball caused an avalanche of further embarrassment to the aliens. More were pulling out, focusing on the more dangerous alien adversaries. A galactic war broke out that involved weaponry that saw nuclear missiles being used as often as bullets. The destruction caused an alien race to force humanity to serve on their side. Long refused.

The Old World of space untangled as civilizations older than Earth’s fell in shambles. In the interim, rebellious aliens appeared on the surface to assist humans in recreating their technology. They were pessimistic of humanity, but its resolve in defying total subjugation gave them hope in toppling their imperialistic leaders.

Long succumbed to disease, but her legacy emboldened many despite her ruthlessness toward humans she thought were collaborating with invaders, real or imagined. The next successor in that region, was the soft and meticulous Slavik. Far from charismatic like Long, his calmness and stability sent a plan of continued technological learning and creation that was difficult to argue against aside from the most hawkish people or collaborators. Willing to be more trusting of alien rebels allowed him to gain more info on how they think and act, making it easier to predict further combat incursions.

This acceleration to a new space race was often narrow minded, and Slavik took other matters with apathy and relegated it to staff advisors. Still, he was honest about his goals and was wary of becoming aggressors on earth or in space. He was concerned about protection and elf-reliance, and that boosted their capabilities as aliens continued slaughtering each over for so long that Earth was forgotten about.

As a the tech boom led to force fields, anti-craft weaponry, spacecraft, and peacetime aids such as machines and medicines to repair tissues, the relative security of Earth led to various social concerns rising for people who had time to breathe and think. The foreigners who stayed and aided humans were treated with growing disdain as their efforts were taken for granted in post-war highs. Tensions bubbled as accusations of aliens taking up resources, not working hard enough to earn their stay, or dismantling the societies grew.

Various leaders like President Dickson used these tensions to distract from other matters as he benefited from rising power. Others like the dovish Jacobs made amends and wanted to pursue good relations with the now war-torn alien civilizations, yet his efforts did not go far enough to make lasting benefits due to making sure the remaining alien superpower would not see him as weak or naive.

What followed were a series of leaders who drifted further away from goodwill policies and proper rebuilding of Earth to focus on more weaponry  and acquisition of other worlds for resources, whether or not they were inhabited. Now the conquerors, humans were split between two futures. Security out of supremacy? Freedom out of trust?

At the height of Earth’s dominance, the Union’s people elected Rauda-Gold. She promised to  be firm in national and human interests, standing strong against numerous foes internally and externally. Born in a generation used to surplus, relative galactic safety, and harboring no knowledge of alien oppression, she listened to reasonable qualms without strong bias. Her values were for humanity and earth, with the rest being flexible.

Rauda-Gold steadily relinquished control of planets with native inhabitants to the detriment of the national interests of the already rich. The goodwill took years to fully settle, but it was a start toward a transparent galaxy. A rusting minority segment of the planet Teknos were given medical supplies and aid during a brutal civil war, but she denied arming them to avoid a full fledged involvement. As the Teknos government continued its atrocities, Rauda-Gold cut off trade with a grain that was only mass produced in Earth. With the civil war dwindling resources, the government called for a ceasefire and to discuss with the minority in earnest.

The most perilous occasion was when the Rizen, that old enemy of humanity, invaded planet after planet. Medicine, technology, and weaponry spread to Rizen opposition. Frozen assets and embargoes were mere dents in the war machine oiled by the lie of a former glory. She would not risk human or alien lives unless she herself would fight, yet her age and symbolic importance would make her role limited lest she be captured as a hostage. She communicated as much as possible to troops through camera drones, but it never felt close enough to being there and getting a sense of the trouble. As more atrocities continued, including the gaseous bombs that filled cities afar and at home, people clamored for war each day. She waited and talked to advisors, no matter how much time she spent grieving in private.

She would not create a draft and only allowed a strictly volunteer service to fight. With the utmost protection, the soldiers helped beat back the tide of the Rizen until they were beaten down and succumbed to treaty settling. Still, lives were lost. A fact that would haunt her even if the galaxy was spared further bloodshed. Rauda-Gold did all she could to pay for veterans and their families the same way she did with victims of natural calamities.

Earth’s respect soared, and the withdrawal of colonies led to the planet being self-reliant with a boost in trade from allied planets. The federation of planets were motivated, or goaded for some weaker tyrannical leaders, to endorse a stronger policy of life-form rights. She wanted to be inspiring like Long, prosperous like Slavik, and focused on honest peace like Jacobs. Aware of their shortcomings and their environments, Rauda-Gold knew she would be compared and dissected in the future by historians of all species.

But the issue of war always stabbed at her. At what point does a war become just? The idea of a pacifist president split by an idea of a savior president. The bloodless leader replaced by the hero leader. She planned to resign after her term ended, yet she had more time to make peace with such a choice and image. She contributed to diplomacy more than before, and made sure to rebuild bombed houses with her own hands. Rauda-Gold felt the charred substance of steel and wood and alien materials. All reminders of what a perfect leadership could have avoided. But such desires must be tempered by the environments they dwell in. New generations of alien and human children can breathe and enjoy life in a galaxy more principled against war. Yet she fears her action may inspire future leaders to ignore all that and lionize her war efforts as something to be achieved wholesale without nuance or care. An ongoing fear she must mete out as the twilight of her shining dream dims.

[the1918]

Maybe I’m seeing misogyny where there isn’t any, I’m just feeling a way about this. Chris is a grown man who did something stupid. It sucks and it’s embarrassing but that’s it. No one is slut shaming him or asking what else did he expect when taking that pic. Ya know, how young women are talked about when they have their pics stolen. I feel bad for him and I’m glad people are flooding the tags, but the reaction would be so different if a woman did the same thing and it’s really annoying me.

I won’t answer anymore asks about Chris’s accident after this, but I do want to answer this one because I think it is a really, really important take that extends far outside of this one incident.

Nonnie, you’re not imagining misogyny where there is none. A double standard does exist and it is absolutely misogynistic. It would be so different if Chris was a woman. Here we have an attractive man whose private photos were made public, and the internet (mostly) reacted by turning it into a joke. Chris may have been embarrassed, but he received almost no ridicule, he wasn’t slutshamed, and he certainly didn’t have his body critiqued and insulted by complete strangers. None of that would have been true if Chris were a woman. It is more than okay to be annoyed or even angered by that knowledge.

But you mention that you’re still glad people are flooding the tags despite your anger at the double standard, and that’s what I want to hit on here. I think Nonnie’s mixed reaction to this is exactly what we need in the world, for this kind of situation and many others, because it is important to discuss, address, and actively seek to fix those larger, problematic issues while still maintaining compassion for all people in all situations.

When you are struggling with something, there is always going to be someone out there who is struggling more than you. If you got mugged while walking down the street and had your wallet stolen, there are people just down that same street who are sleeping there because they are homeless, and they have no wallet to steal. Someone is always hurting more—but that doesn’t mean your hurt is invalid. It doesn’t mean something bad didn’t happen to you. It doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated with compassion.

This goes both ways. Hurt can be relative, sure—but it’s not a competition. Nothing good can come from saying, “the struggle you’re going through is not as bad as my struggle, so you shouldn’t be upset.” We can be aware of the larger hurts and want to address them with higher priority while not invalidating people who “have it better”.

I want to make it clear that I do not mean this to apply to all situations the exact same, especially “minor” problems when compared to very serious issues of life and death. The plight of the white woman getting catcalled by a group of white men on the street should not be compared to the experience of the black transwoman who gets assaulted by those same men in the alley. But, even in this example—when it’s undoubtable that the first woman’s experience can’t compare to the second’s—both women are victims in some way, of the same aggressors, living in the same toxic culture. In the hypothetical example I put here, the answer is to prioritize our focus on aggressively proliferating anti-racist ideas and actions while also promoting intersectional feminism and seeking to end rape culture. The black transwoman needs our protection and our humanity first, yes, but that’s not mutually exclusive with helping other women.

Sorry if that got a little heavier than I meant it to. To bring it back around, Chris’s experience of embarrassment here is obviously less serious than what a woman would have experienced, and far less than any of the other example situations I have mentioned. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve compassion from us, his fans.

TL;DR— Be critical, but always have compassion. The way to show someone more humanity is not by showing others less. We can acknowledge differences in experiences while not invalidating anyone’s hurt. In fact, we can often find ways to address both.

Love doesn’t divide, y’all. Love multiplies. ❤️

[denimbex1986]

‘...Fans hoped that The Falcon and the Winter Soldier would allow Bucky to work through his victimhood; a meaningful project both in-universe and out. But this does not transpire onscreen. Instead, the show turns the trauma that Bucky suffered into trauma he caused. The story retrofits a previously nonexistent agency into Bucky’s past as the Winter Soldier. Rather than telling a story of survival and recovery, TFATWS retcons Bucky’s history in order to more comfortably deal with it.  

...In a six-episode arc, he transforms from a victim into a victimizer who “deserves” his shame. Against the backdrop of his absolute suffering, the audience is asked to agree that he is at fault for his trauma. And thus, that the single avenue open to him is atonement. But there is only one term for this sudden shift of culpability onto a trauma survivor: victim-blaming.

...In truth, Bucky should be allowed to conclude that he didn’t harm anyone. That, in fact, his name belongs on a list of those deserving of absolution. But the narrative denies him this.

‘...TFATWS makes Bucky complicit in his time as the Soldier. Bucky always uses “I” statements when it comes to his past (e.g. “The power I gave her”), a retroactive injection of agency completely at odds with Bucky’s position as a powerless prisoner at the time. The story itself seems to back this up; Bucky even says, “Hydra used to be my people.” In a new flashback, he kills an innocent man and utters, “Hail Hydra.”

...In the described scene, he not only speaks, but affirmatively declares his allegiance to his captors. The emphasis on his alleged agency feels intentional, underscored by depictions of the violence Bucky was forced to commit in lieu of visuals of his decades-long torture.

...The show casually re-traumatizes Bucky and uses the sequence as proof of his culpability. In Madripoor, Bucky is forced to violently perform as the Winter Soldier while his body is, in essence, trafficked by Zemo. But the show doesn’t indicate that it understands how harrowing it is for a victim of repeated assaults to relive their trauma.

Here, Zemo asks Sam to consider how little it took for Bucky to “fall back into form,” implying that Bucky somehow wants to be the Soldier again. Zemo’s comment stings of language used to discredit victims of sexual assault. Bucky’s assault, while never expressly sexual, was overtly physical. His body was used without his consent, and again by Zemo in the scene. But the show ignores this discussion in favor of emphasizing Bucky’s villainy.

...nearly every character serves to establish Bucky as either unstable or rightfully guilty. And Bucky’s therapist, Dr. Raynor, becomes the most insidious voice that upholds Bucky’s place as an aggressor.

...The show depicts therapy as a condition of Bucky’s contrived pardon—moreover, a punishment. Bucky’s story arc is analogous to a prisoner of war, an assault victim, someone who has been trafficked. Meanwhile, Marvel prefers to depict him as a willing soldier in the field. Thusly, the narrative won’t allow him to access this trauma...

...Raynor should be duty-bound to tell Bucky that he is not guilty, regardless of what Bucky fears. Instead, Bucky’s aforementioned “amends” list seems to come from therapy; the rules that Bucky follows to “make amends” are Raynor’s as well.

The doctor condones Bucky placing himself into traumatic situations without equipping him to process that pain. Once again, the show offers no indication that it’s aware Bucky has anything to heal from, only things to apologize for. In its depiction of a hurting man and his therapy, the MCU is damagingly cavalier.

...Bucky’s therapist victim-blames her patient, participating in the narrative gaslight of the audience. This is one of the most egregious messages the MCU has ever espoused. For anyone who has suffered trauma or engaged with the sensitive project of mental health, it is painful to witness.

Acknowledging trauma and seeking help for issues of mental health still carry great stigma. At the end of the day, TFATWS reaches a large number of people, many of whom are likely facing hardships of their own. Thus, the decision to broadcast therapy as a combative, invasive punishment that is all too willing to blame a patient is truly an irresponsible choice.

By refusing to acknowledge Bucky’s pain or to focus on his healing, the show reinforces cruel and false real-world narratives about the roles victims play in their suffering, and about what blame should fall onto those who have been hurt. If the show was not prepared to discuss Bucky’s trauma, they should not have featured him at all.’

[go-go-devil]

Summarizing the Papas’ Actions with a Single Word

This is more of a writing exercise for myself, but you can see it as one of my headcanons. I just want to flex my interpretations of a significant trait that each Papa has to help me better shape their overall characters. Enjoy!

Papa Nihil: Compulsion

Nihil’s mind has always been a slave to his desires. As long as this old Papa’s able to convince himself that he wants something, he’s going to get it one way or another. While this go-getter attitude initially got him great success in his heyday, it was also the key component in his many downfalls. Whether it be Sister Imperator leaving him due to his unrestrained lust for the women around him, his sons losing their fondness for him due to his flippant treatment of them over the years, or dethroning his youngest for the sake of taking his place as frontman only for Imperator to place a man he couldn’t care less about in the spotlight instead, the list goes on and on.

This reckless behavior can and has often made Nihil feel guilty, but by the time he decides to take a few steps back and assess the situation, it’s almost always too late for him to fix it…

Papa I: Authority

If there’s one thing that Papa I wants to be remembered for, it’s for being someone that others look up to, a powerful figure that someone could both stand in awe at and who would not be afraid to come to them for guidance. The man is wholly obedient to his role as Papa and relishes in leading his flock toward his view of Hell. This is a trait that any good Anti-Pope should have to their subjects, but the truth is that Primo sees it more as something reassuring to himself.

He is acutely aware of his lack of charisma and hindered social skills, especially compared to his brothers and father, and many times he’ll feel that if it weren’t for him being an heir to the papacy that no one would have wanted him as their Papa. And so he finds solace in taking the role as a mentor to others, as a way to both flex his wealth of knowledge and to better communicate to those around him.

Papa II: Control

On the surface, Papa II’s need to always be in control of a situation doesn’t seem too far off from his older brother’s need to display his clout. The difference here, however, comes from scale. What Secondo wants is control over all aspects of both his job and himself: being able to stop an aggressor with either his words or (in worse case scenario) his fists, the ability to regulate his own emotions as not to show weakness nor lash out in anger, keeping a firm hold on both the clergy and those close to him, etc.

While this may seem nothing short of authoritative, his reasoning for this actual comes from a noble place. For much of his early life, Secondo had found himself victim to abuse by several authority figures in his life, and even now the scars inflicted on his mind are still far to deep to heal. He only wants this form of absolute control to protect himself and his loved ones from ever having to suffer like that, even if it makes him seem cold and even cruel to those who don’t know him personally.

Papa III: Love

Above all else, Papa III wants nothing more than to truly feel loved by those around him. “Well, this shouldn’t be an issue!” one might say, “He’s by far the most beloved of all the Papas, his charm alone can provide him with a constant supply of lovers, and even the metal scene recognized his talent enough to give him a Grammy. He must have a surplus of love to go around!” Unfortunately it’s not so simple.

Terzo is a very emotional man with a mind running a mile-a-minute, and because of this his brain seems to greatly amplify feelings of both joy and misery. Just a single word of condemnation and mockery can lower his spirits to a place where not even the thousands of praises from his fans can pull him out of, nor could the superficial affection of a one-night-stand. Oftentimes he cannot effectively calm himself due to his mind convincing him that he has no control over his perceived faults, and so he needs the support of deeper connections, whether they are friends or family or a partner, in order to reassure him that he is worth more than just his title.

Papa IV/Copia: Excellence

From as early as childhood, Copia always felt that he could never quite fit in with any of society’s carefully marked social groups. Perhaps it was his awkwardness combined with nervous tics, or his instinctual lack of empathy for most others (besides animals), or maybe it was how he could never seem to focus on the task at hand but instead daydream about his future desires? No matter what it was, it always made him feel like a lesser person, and he hated it.

Eventually he developed the idea that the only way for others to truly appreciate him was to gain the skills necessary to give him the high ground over his peers, whether it be something as minuscule as perfecting a hobby to show off his skills or as ambitious as attaining higher power in life. Countless times he’s worked himself to exhaustion, even to the point of physical pain, just to prove his worth to the clergy, and every failure brings him such fear that it leads him to more “desperate” resorts as a means of rebounding back to success.

Even with this worrying level of perfectionism, this does not make Copia an inherently horrible person. He doesn’t like to see others as tools for his conquest, especially if they’re nice to him and/or respect his boundaries, and ultimately does want to make personal connections. However, the same can’t be said for people whom he considers his enemies, and now that he’s risen to Papa, there’s a good chance that he’ll use his power to “adjust their attitudes” toward him…

[naughtypastas]

I can give so many asks. Scale of 1/10, how protective are all the creeps with their chubby so.

!!! You've done me good buddy!!! And a disclaimer: this is my first time writing for Hoodie or Masky and my knowledge of them isn't perfect, also due to the previous... Controversies. Around certain characters, if I was ever asked to by their creators (which let's face it is very unlikely considering how broad the internet truly is), I will stop writing for them and edit out/delete asks involving them. Just a warning, but will probably never happen.

Protectiveness, 1 being lowest 10 being highest. Jeff is tricky for me bc I see two versions of Jeff (a younger one and an older one) that vary very differently from each other.

Jeff - Depending on how old you see Jeff to be. If you see him as a young 20s kind of guy, he's like a 5, he's angry like 24/7 so expect anyone who does or says anything negative towards you to die, but that doesn't always correlate to him being actually possessive- it's just an excuse lol. However older Jeff (30s+) is a LOT more protective. He's not so much angry but like he fully accepts the fact that he loves his s/o by that age so he's a lot more openly protective. Probably like an 8.

BEN - 5. He's more playful when it comes to people who are mean or nasty to you, he likes to hack their electronics and fuck with them, but won't become actually aggressive unless it's something real bad

Eyeless Jack - 3. Dude doesn't really care. Like he's not a jealous type or at least not an aggressive jealous type. He might just "accidentally" steal the person's kidneys tho.. just y'know... They just so happened to have been his next victim!!! Totally coincidental!!! Tooootttaalllly.

Laughing Jack - 10. He's a bit interesting cause you might catch him in a "good" mood where he's more playful than downright scary, but either way it ends the same. The person who bothered you is no more.

Slenderman - 2. Unless it's a severe situation, he won't really take action directly. He knows humans are dumb and do dumb things and he's above that... Unless, again, it's real bad or you're especially bothered by it.

Bloody Painter - 3. He gets grumpy about it and will definitely be angry- and hell if it's bad enough he might take action- but otherwise he, like Slenderman, kind of would rather focus on making you feel better instead of enacting revenge.

The Puppeteer - 7. He's willing to go the extra mile to make a person suffer in your name. Very jealous, too, which does not help at all.

Ticci Tobi - 6. Two ways; either he will cling onto you and whine about it, or he will hunt the person down. The second option is a whole less pretty, ain't it?

Hoodie - 4. Not usually aggressive aggressive, and won't outwardly react to it, but definitely will be very bothered by it. Like Helen and Slenderman, he may just try to help you over it instead of enacting revenge... Ah who am I kidding? The fuckers gone. He just won't act on it until you've calmed down and or have gone to sleep for the night.

Masky - 6.5. Now here's an angry boy. He fumes about it and the end result is NOT gonna be pretty. After he handles the aggressor, you're gonna need to dote on him and calm him down.

Feel free to request specific pastas that I didn't get to!

[peacefulapostlearchive]

@osurvive​  || tension 

💢  :    your  muse  picks  mine  up   &   carries  them  over  their  shoulder .  + reversed

his head snaps up the minute he hears that familiar voice yell out from corridors away  . it’s not in distress but ANGER just as it always is with the teenager  . ellie is NEVER made a victim and more the aggressor in some cases but only when provoked  .  or so he’s sure of at least  . “ shit . . . “ he mutters before letting his feet lead him quickly down the hall until her voice starts growing louder  .  

someone has pissed her off to the point that she’s threatening them in curse words paul wouldn’t ever mutter  .  he sighs as he throws open the door  ,  the only people to look his way are those on the sidelines , but he pays no mind to them .  his focus is on the girl  that was left to her own devices for a little too long around people who don’t understand her  .  “ ELLIE!” he calls but she’s too deep into her fury that she barely reacts .

 the next step as much as he’s going to hate the repercussions later is when he goes up to her grabs her and fully throws her over his shoulder  .  paul may not look like much in stature but he is far stronger than he looks  .  simply grabbing her by the arm would have resulted in her throwing punches so it was best to avoid that in this moment  . “ i can’t leave you alone for a second can i  ??  “ 

[goldenornstein]

👑 💘 ⚠

Shipping meme thingy || accepting.

How do you feel about royalty AU’s or Arranged Marriage AU’s?

Pretty neutral. Royalty AUs are fine and well, but I tend to go for a more political focus when I write those, rather than romance. Which connects with Arranged Marriage AUs --- in Ornstein’s case that kind of arrangement would be yet another duty to fulfil. Zero lovey feelings. Just this thing that must be done in order to set a political alliance, or something of the sort. He would be civil to his spouse, yes. Faithful too. He'd also have sex with them, if they consented, but only if  producing biological children was mandatory. Now, aactually going with the whole trope where he falls in love...? I don’t know, I don’t see it happening given his approach to duty. I guess it’d depend on the partner, though. 

What is a romantic AU you’ve always wanted to write, but haven’t yet?

I’m not really into purely romantic AUs. But if there’s a good plot and it has room for an interesting relationship, then yeah! Let’s go for it! 

What is a ship (or type of ship) that you have no intention of writing?

Anything downright non-con. Adults and minors. Aggressor/oppressor and victim/oppressed. Romanticized toxic/abusive relationships trying to pass as ‘kinky’ dynamics. I don’t know... there’s a lot of stuff I’m just not here for. 

Also, I don’t think I could ever write Ornstein and DS protagonist/a human. It just makes zero sense to me, given my portrayal of the character. Plus there’s the whole fictional racism thing in between which makes me kinda uncomfortable. So there’s that.  Ornstein and Smough is also a default nope --- even if I could eventually write it, but only if there was mad chemistry and a great plot.

Insta-shipping is also a nope. Actually, writing romance just for the sake of it isn’t my thing at all.