#it's a Gabriel-survival mechanism.

[fernsnouveau]

It's really, really worth noting that Marinette thought she was alone, talking to an inanimate object, specifically because Adrien had decided to deliberately pretend to be an inanimate object. Acting cringe at inanimate objects (which Marinette sincerely thought she was doing) isn't a crime. And, like, yeah, she shouldn't be touching and potentially damaging the wax statues, but that'd be like... mild vandalism, not an inappropriate interpersonal interaction. (Also, apparently Adrien's statue has repeatedly gotten actual pieces cut from it by over-invested fans. Which is, of course, also unadvisable, but. Yeah.)

It is also really worth noting that people routinely objectify Adrien much like this when he's just existing in public and not willingly pretending to be an inanimate object. Marinette at least stopped doing it and was mortified as soon as it became clear that it was the real Adrien, not a statue.

It's cringe comedy, which is definitely not everyone's cup of tea, but they both had fairly innocent intentions, their cringe ideas just just combined in a... memorable way. They apologised not because they were actually trying to do anything horrible to each other, but because the situation just kinda turned out deeply embarassing, for reasons neither of them foresaw.

I need to talk about the statue scene in Puppeteer 2. It reeks of rated-G SA and Adrien went into fawning trauma mode when Marinette got upset. Like bro, she felt you up, pulled your hair, and kissed you without your consent. And Adrien is the one who apologizes for it. And that’s when Astruc decided Adrien should fall in love with Marinette. Unbelievable.

Hi!

To be fair, that's typical for the humor of this show. It's not supposed to be taken seriously. That's why I don't really consider Marinette being a stalker or anything like that an actual criticism of her character. It's just part of the exaggerated humor of the show and it's not supposed to be literal. That scene really isn't meant to be serious. Marinette really thought he was a statue, and Adrien realized the joke backfired and apologized because the situation was awkward. It wasn't really a big deal. It was played for laughs more than anything. It's completely understandable to find it distasteful, but it's not meant to be serious and doesn't really reflect on the characters imho.

That being said, your point does work when we talk about the episode overall. The episode started with Adrien calling his friends over because he was lonely, but it ended up focusing on Marinette anyway. I didn't really like that, because it's just another instance of the narrative not being able to not make it about Marinette again. And yeah, it's so strange how they made that the scene where Adrien fell in love with Marinette, and not, I don't know, the umbrella scene 2.0. It's one of the retcons that is clearly made to justify all the criticisms fans have of the show. Marinette is a stalker? It's because of trauma! The statue scene was weird? Sike, that's when Adrien actually fell in love with Marinette! Even though the episode where it happened showed them both being super weirded out and ended with Adrien talking about his love for another girl with no hint whatsoever that he began to view Marinette in a different light since then. But yeah, that's when he started to like her. Suuuuure.

Thank you for your ask!

[svvordsmachine]

btw you can find gabriel mirrored in some way in a shocking amount of characters

[knuckleblaster]

On some level I understand the rejection or outright denial of V2's death: it was jarring and brutal, especially for a character who, at least in laws of traditional video game rivals and the rule of thirds, seemed like it'd stick around for longer. This said, inferring from in-game lore as well as dev statements, I believe V2's death, tragic that it is, is not unwarranted; and that it is commonly pigeonholed into a characterization it does not fit into due to its assumed role within the game.

This is long, so it's going under the cut.

Considering its name, it's easy to assume V2 is a new and improved version of its predecessor; but it is more heavily implied that it's simply a version of V1 with thicker plating, and nothing more. [1] V2 was an attempt at salvaging V1's design after war became irrelevant, to capitalize on the resources wasted on a highly advanced war machine by rebranding it as an adaptable worker, for security and (theoretically) other peacetime activities (...not an innuendo). This was a failure; there's no reason to invest in something so refined when a handful of lesser machines could do the same job [2].

If V2 is contextualized within its backstory, it makes a lot more sense why it ate shit so quickly. It is, out of any in-game machine so far, one of the least suited for survival in Hell. Sentries and Streetcleaners were created for war. Swordsmachine(s) and Mindflayers are scrapheads, constantly adapting to create (and protect) their perfect, lethal body. [3] If anything, it's on the same level as a Drone, able to defend itself in a limited capacity, but not intentionally programmed or built for combat. Faced with V1, something built for perfect, swift destruction, a machine made for peace would stand even less of a chance than normal, even with an equal level of mobility and build.

V2 is also doomed, in a very literal sense, by the narrative. In a meta sense, it does not matter to the game story whatsoever [4]. V1 is the butterfly whose wing flaps set Gabriel's story in motion, but V2 has no such connection to his story, and is thus irrelevant. Even its lore entry is overshadowed by information about V1/its connection to V1. A third fight, as well, was never in the running, not necessarily due to anything in the game lore, but because its first and second encounters are all it needs: a third rematch would be repetitive and messy [5]. The reason for its extremely violent death sequence is to ensure there was no question as to its fate [6].

In regards to its personality; it is oft-headcanoned as loud, irritable, and competitive, but this characterization is more likely due to its color as well as its assumed role as a "rival" to V1; rather than based upon its in-game actions. Although its initial intentions are up to interpretation [7], comparing its actions and mechanics to other enemies fully rationalizes its anger. Although it's fairly easy to enrage in-fight, the criteria for its enrage state is much more specific than other enemies, and it's quite easy to not trigger it at all. Cerberi will enrage after one of its kind dies, Malicious Faces and Mindflayers after a certain amount of damage has been dealt (on Violent). Most notably, as the only other character with a rematch, Gabriel begins his second fight enraged after his first defeat [3], which can imply by extension that even though V2 is taking its second fight more seriously [8], it is still not outwardly angry. Its enrage state is only triggered when its patience is depleted (the player avoids it for too long), or in its second fight when it has been punched with the Knuckleblaster. These can be interpreted as indicators that V2 likes it when the fight is "fair": when it's not being avoided and picked at from a distance, or being hit with its own arm; which is frankly pretty fucking mean. A side note: Returning to its creation, it can also potentially be inferred that V2 was intentionally programmed with a rational, controlled, and even marketable personality, easily suppressed or overwritten for ease of use.

In another game, or if V1 was the protagonist, perhaps V2 would not be dead. Instead, V2 is doomed by its creators, both in-game and in reality. It mirrors V1 in action and Gabriel in mind, but unlike them, it has no place in this story beyond a truly fantastic duo of fights. Although its story has any number of potential rewritings or epilogues [9], its doom was always intended. It's easy to mourn lost potential, and its end is intensely tragic; but I believe it is a tragedy that meshes nicely with the rest of the game's story. V2 is dead, and not a second too soon.

Footnotes:

1.

Along with the lore entry for V2:

V1’s planned production was cancelled and an updated model, V2, was developed instead, using the standardized plating, since durability was far more important during times of peace when no bloodshed was necessary.

2.

twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538313328715513857

3. in-game lore entries, can be read on ultrakill.miraheze.org or here in one document: steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2245904838

4.

5.

twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538336055681863680

6. "And then V2 dies as hard as anyone could possibly die to make sure people understand he's fucking dead and is not coming back" - dev commentary, 05:08:09 (youtu.be/kaImho5JioI?si=v4_m90nfLOY-DyEZ&t=18489)

7.

8.

9. Notably, Dream's End Come True / v2isdead.com.

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 56

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: The group resorts to extreme methods to survive. A mysterious "friend" tries to help. A thunderstorm forces them to take shelter in a nearby barn. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; starvation; dehydration; resorting to extreme methods of survival (eating dog meat); mourning; suspicious coercion methods; coping mechanisms

Chapter 56 - Wanderers

There was a part of Iris that knew she had to eat. She was so hungry. And the smell of cooking meat and the sounds of her companions sinking their teeth in made it all that much harder. But the other part, the bigger part of her, was beyond nauseated at the idea of eating the dogs. Their bloodied collars still sat on the side of the road. 

Daryl and even Carl tried to convince her to eat, Sasha too, but she couldn’t. Noah couldn’t either, and she didn’t blame him. Even Gabriel had some, pulling off his clerical collar and tossing it in the fire as he did so.

Iris closed her eyes and choked down a few bites, enough to get her by. She gagged and almost lost the rest of the contents of her stomach, but her will to absorb some sort of nutrition was stronger than her will to vomit.

They eventually moved onward, continuing their painfully slow pace down the road. As they passed around what remained of their water supply, Abraham attempted to pass around his bottle of bourbon. They all denied it, despite the ever-growing temptation to give up. 

Iris passed the water bottle back to Glenn, who then offered it to Daryl. He shook his head and Glenn pushed it out further.

“Daryl.” He insisted.

“Don’t.” Daryl snapped back.

“We can make it together.” Glenn assured. “But we can only make it together.” Daryl ignored Glenn, and he trudged back up to walk with Maggie. Iris looked back at Daryl, but he shook his head.

“Tell them I went looking for water.” He grunted, before disappearing into the foliage that lined the sides of the road. She sighed, swallowing through her very dry throat, and started counting her steps. 

-

Daryl found a trail off the side of the road very quickly, spotting a small barn further down. He looked up into the sun, feeling it burn his retinas before sitting down against a tree. He ignored the fact that the lighter belonged to Iris as he pulled it from his pocket, lighting a cigarette. 

He went through half of six cigarettes, each one deposited on the dry brush between his knees before he looked up into the sky again. He pulled the seventh from between his lips, glanced at the ash collecting at the end and pressed it into the side of his hand. 

It was a familiar feeling. His father had often used both himself and Merle to put out his cigarettes. He was riddled with scars. And though he knew it burned, and recognized the pain, it felt like nothing. Numbness was all that was left, the slight pressure of him pressing it harder and harder until it crumpled and joined the others in the grass. Even as his finger brushed the ash from the wound, he felt nothing.

Then, he felt everything. Thick sobs wracked his body as he clutched his knees to his chest. He shed a few tears, though they were all so dehydrated there wasn’t much left to cry. It all came rushing at once, swallowing him whole. His brother. Hershel. Bob. Beth. Tyreese. His brother. Beth.

What else could he do? He felt so helpless, so frustrated. They had nothing. They lost everything. He took heavy breaths, sniffling through it. He lost so much. He lost everything. Well, not everything. 

It was that thought that brought him back to his feet. Hours had gone by, and the sun had softened. He checked the barn, finding nothing, returning empty handed back to the road, the others. They were all he had left. His… everything. 

They stood in the road with somber expressions as he returned, Rick stepping forward to hand him… a note. A piece of paper. FROM A FRIEND, it read. He looked around, huffing his crossbow over his shoulder in preparation. A few of the others had their guns out, standing in a sort of circle facing every direction.

“What else are we going to do?” Tara asked. Iris looked down at their little gift. Jugs upon jugs upon bottles upon bottles of water. Enough for each of them and more. And it looked clean. Fresh. 

“Not this.” Rick denied. Iris winced at the pained expressions of the group. They weren’t exactly in a position to refuse resources. Especially those that came free… at least for now. “We don’t know who left it.”

“If that’s a trap, we already happen to be in it.” Eugene pointed out. “But I, for one, would like to think it is indeed from a friend.”

“What if it isn’t? What if they put something in it?” Carol asked.

“The likelihood of that being the case is next to none.” Eugene protested.

“Well it’s not zero, is it, Eugene?” Iris snapped in reply. “The likelihood of a dead man getting back up after shooting him in the chest is also next to none, wouldn’t you say?” He said nothing, pursing his lips before stepping forward and grabbing a bottle.

“What are you doing?” Tara asked.

“Eugene.” Rosita protested.

“Quality assurance.” He stated, cracking open the bottle and putting it to his lips. Abraham stepped forward and slapped it out of his hands, the water spraying across his face and to the ground. Iris mourned the potential loss as it seeped into the asphalt. Abraham said nothing as he stepped back into his place in the circle. If he had to live with himself, they all did, apparently. Especially Eugene.

“We can’t.” Rick repeated. They all looked up into the sky as thunder rumbled, and Iris’ heart rate spiked. Rain. Water. The downpour started almost immediately, and she looked up, opening her mouth. Even a few drops on her tongue was better than nothing at all. Rick grinned as Carl mirrored her, chuckling. Tara and Rosita lay down in the rain, giggling to one another. Eugene stuck his tongue out. 

“I’m sorry, my Lord.” Gabriel whispered.

“Everybody get the bags. Anything you can find.” Rick called, waving them forward as he and Abraham knelt by the bags. “Come on.” 

They scattered, grabbing any and every receptacle capable of holding liquid. Bowls. Bottles. Judith started to cry as the thunder increased, clapping loudly overhead. Carl removed his hat, holding it over her head. Despite the rain, none of them wanted to be caught in a storm. It’d be pretty ironic if they died of hypothermia in the rain after nearly dying of thirst.

“Shelter, anyone?” Iris called over the thunder. 

“Let’s keep moving!” Rick agreed.

“There's a barn!” Daryl called over the roar. 

“Where?” Rick asked. Daryl led them through the downpour, Rick and Carol giving the barn a quick sweep before the group flooded inside. Maggie’s steps were slow and cautious, and Iris could tell by the look on her face that she was uncomfortable. She hadn’t even considered the last barn they all had been near…

“You okay?” Iris asked, gently holding her by the elbow. Maggie swallowed, nodding. She looked down at a stack of books, staring holes into the thick Bible that sat on top of the pile. They were set in front of a small closet and she opened the door, peering inside. There was a walker on the floor, one of the ones so far gone they couldn’t hold anything up anymore, wheezing across the wood planks. Maggie stared, sighing as she pulled out her knife and killed it. Iris came up behind her, peering over her shoulder into the tiny room. 

“She had a gun. She could have shot herself.” Maggie pointed quietly. Iris followed her gaze, nodding. The shotgun leaned against the wall. To the walker’s credit, it was pretty hard to shoot yourself in the head with a shotgun that had a barrel longer than your arm, but yes, she chose to sink into the uncomfortable embrace of rotting bones and snarling for eternity.

“Some people can’t give up.” Iris replied. She looked up at Maggie, who was still staring at the shotgun. “Like us.”

They settled into the barn, avoiding the leakier parts of the roof and finding spots that felt comfortable. Maggie lay in one of the corners with an oil lamp, pretending to sleep. Many of the others were already resting, leaning against the walls, bales of hay, whatever they could find. Abraham was still nursing that same bottle. 

Daryl built a fire, a few of them coming to sit around and get warm, but there wasn’t much dry wood they could burn. Glenn offered to try, but there was nothing he could do to dry the wood any faster. Carl and Judith had dozed off, snuggled together. Carl had his head laid on Iris’ lap, Judith hugged to his chest. He’d be embarrassed about it if he woke up and realized where he had fallen asleep, but when Rick asked if Iris would like him to move them, she shook her head. She was simply glad they felt safe enough to sleep there. 

“He’s gonna be okay.” Carol assured when Rick glanced nervously down at his son again. “He bounces back more than any of us do.”

“I used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now. In this.” Rick mused. “But I think I got it wrong. Growing up is getting used to the world. This is easier for them.”

“This isn’t the world.” Michonne interrupted sharply. “This isn’t it.” Iris sighed, her gaze trained on Maggie, who still lay alone across the barn. She looked down, brushing a strand of hair from Carl’s face. He barely stirred. They could deny it all they wanted, but Iris knew the truth. This was it. This was all there would be. And they could make of it what they would.

“It might be.” Glenn murmured, voicing her thoughts. “It might.”

“That’s giving up.” Michonne criticized.

“It’s reality.” He replied with a shrug.

“Until we see otherwise, this is what we have to live with.” Rick stated definitively. They all paused, letting his words sink in among the raindrops and thunder outside in the dark. “When I was a kid…” He began, “I asked my Grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn’t answer. Said that was grown-up stuff, so… so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him. But he got real quiet. He said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. Every day, he woke up and told himself, ‘Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war.’ And then after a few years of pretending he was dead, he made it out alive. That's the trick of it, I think. We do what we need to do, and then we get to live.”

Iris paused at that, measuring his words, his tone. She always did that. It was a habit. When you grow up eavesdropping on meetings with some of the most dangerous people in the city, you got accustomed to hearing the hard things early. Felix always tried to protect her, but no one could ever hide everything. Rick spoke as if he was justifying things he hadn’t done yet. Like he was defending himself. 

No one ever got to choose how heavy killing weighs on their soul. Rick had taken many human lives since everything started, and with no end in sight. Anyone could defend his actions, his choices, his values and morals. But only the person holding the knife, the gun, the red-handled machete, the person who does the killing, only they get to decide how much it takes. How big of a piece of your soul you’re giving up in exchange for someone else’s. 

While some people, like Iris, guarded what was left of their soul like a dragon and its hoard. People like Daryl keep their soul locked tightly away and blame only themselves when the bars of their cage are too tight for them to breathe. And people like Rick… they left their souls unguarded for the sake of others. Let piece by piece be ripped from its place, fall away, wither, if only to say it was the honourable thing to do. But what was honourable about protecting others, about ‘winning’ or ‘surviving’ if you lose every part of yourself along the way?

“No matter what we find in D.C., I know we’ll be okay.” Rick assured, unmoving, unblinking, unwavering. “Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves that we are the walking dead.”

Glenn looked up nervously from the hypnotizing flames, exchanging equally nervous glances with Daryl and Iris. Just how much of Rick’s soul had he already signed away? Iris felt tears line the inside of her eyes. She felt so incredibly lost. We are not dead. We are not dead. We are not dead.

“We ain’t them.” Daryl said darkly. He shifted into a crouch from his seated position, his fingers twitching and fidgeting with sticks from the firewood, the ground. 

“We’re not them.” Rick consoled, tilting his head to get him to look at him, as if Daryl were a child. Iris grimaced. Daryl’s face twisted into a scowl and he stood, grabbing his crossbow. 

“We ain’t them.” He repeated definitively. Rick blinked as Daryl turned away and made himself at home in an empty stable. Iris took a long shuddering breath, ignoring Glenn’s radiating anxiety for the sake of calming her own.

“We’re not dead.” She whispered, to no one but herself.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

@hayley1998

@negansbestie

@lizey-thornberry

[fernsnouveau]

@agentofcalamity thank you for the recs, but the romance or action genre thing wasn't important to me, also it doesn't matter to me what the character looks like. I was thinking more about the psychological side, mental health issues (but not catastrophized or harmful stereotypes), the social masking, compulsive people-pleaser tendencies, high compassion mixed with low socialization experience, alienation? Low/conditional self-worth? Character flaws that aren't about explosive anger/violence? Argh I'm bad at explaining this, sorry.

[Edit – also, the tag rant is general observations and frustrations, not directed at you.]

Anyway does anyone have recs for fiction with characters similar to Adrien but they don't devolve into edgy murderboys?

[ss-shitstorm]

Hey I know you’ve probably already been asked this but what type of chemistry do you use for breaking bread like biochem and where did you learn this or have any book recommendations to pick it up? Also ty in advance I love your writing!!💕💕

oh my fucking god. oh my god. buddy. buddy you have made my fucking LIFE ASKING THIS OH GOD

So like, most of the chemistry I've used so far has just been Genchem and O Chem(with a wee few modifications to make it believable as a Cybertronian discipline, like Transformium being able to hold 4 bonds like Carbon but preferentially forming bonds w metals and needing an EMP pulse to interact w more electronegative atoms) I may wind up needing to get into a bit of Inorganic chemistry, but that's probably fewer and further in between. If you want a better handle on the stuff I'm writing or if you just want to learn more in general, then I'd recommend giving yourself a lil crash course in Genchem and then delving into O chem a bit more extensively (protip : you need WAY less Genchem then you'd think to fully understand O chem. God I wish someone had told me this 5 years ago. If you search "Genchem for non majors", you'll probably learn enough that way.)

THAT SAID : here's a chaotic, not really in any order list of the books/youtube channels/etc that I've directly used/am using for this fic.

Books :

Caveman Chemistry, Kevin R Dunn - Alot of hands-on old timey historical chemistry lessons w detailed instructions on how to complete them.(YOU GET TO MAKE YOUR OWN ASPIRIN AND DRAIN CLEANER!) Delivered with a delightfully occult bend.

Back To basics,(Reader's Digest) - Survivalist homesteading bible. Not strictly chemistry but has alot of earthy hippy ways of generating energy( biofuels my beloved)

An Introduction to Fire Dynamics, Dougal Drysdale - Honestly this, and any other firefighting manuals are worth their weight in gold for figuring out how to not set yourself and your neighborhood on fire while playing with, well, fire. Trying to look this info up online is like playing russian roulette with intentional misinformation and your fbi guy.

(there's another book I have that's even more detailed but I can't find it right now or remember the name. I'll update this list when I can!)

Organic Chemistry, John Mcmurray 8th edition : generic but good college O chem textbook. You can search around and find free versions to download relatively easily.

The Organic Chem Lab Survival Manual, James W Zubrick - Also a very good way to learn how to not set yourself and your neighborhood on fire when playing with glassware/gases. Very in-depth instructions on setting up and using lab equipment without breaking anything or your brain. Has a fuckton of pictures. Author has a massive sense of humor and makes this heavy subject easy to read. Again, easy to download/find in archives

Unfortunately I do not have any recommendations for Genchem books. I mostly used free online courses like Khan Academy to learn what I did.(I would def. recommend them though)

Youtube Channels :

The Organic Chemistry Tutor : Dude puts everything from reaction mechanisms to retrosynth problems down in the simplest possible terms. Does not beat around the bush with euphemisms or stories, gets right to business. If you have trouble paying attention, or lose your mind when a professor goes off on a tangent, this man is your savior. I have crippling unmedicated ADHD and no STEM background whatesoever and this man still managed to teach me 2 separate ways to execute a Gabriel Synthesis

Nile Red : World's most inefficient and most powerful wizard. I am not entirely convinced he's human. Does shit like turning plastic gloves into drinkable grape soda or making sweeteners out of his own piss and somehow makes it explainable to trash goblins like me who only need the science for warlord pussy.

again, anon, holy shit thank you so much. Like you wouldn't believe the amount of damage you've just undone. i have been beating myself into a pulp and spiraling into anxiety about this fic an trying to do everything right and you've given me enough moxie to fuel me for at least the next 10 chapters. If you have any more questions or more specific questions, please do not hesitate to ask! I can't guarantee I can answer them, but damnit I'll try. Take care and happy learning you funky lil moonbean.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Leninism: Why Not

Red Fascism has its roots in Leninist thought, an analysis dating back to critiques in 1939 with The Struggle Against Fascism Begins with the Struggle Against Bolshevism by Otto Rühle[28] and 1921 The Russian Revolution and the Communist Party by “Four Moscow Anarchists”.[29] The latter states:

[State Communism] is not and can never become the threshold of a free, voluntary, non-authoritarian Communist society, because the very essence and nature of governmental, compulsory Communism excludes such an evolution. Its consistent economic and political centralization, its governmentalization and bureaucratization of every sphere of human activity and effort, its inevitable militarization and degradation of the human spirit mechanically destroy every germ of new life and extinguish the stimuli of creative, constructive work.

As Gabriel Kuhn declares in his review of Malm’s recent publications:

As long as it is not clear how future Leninism of any stripe – anti-Stalinist, ecological, whatever – will be able to avoid these pitfalls, I really don’t find it terribly reassuring to suggest that, well, somehow it’ll turn out alright this time.

In a similar fashion, Malm does not add new elements to the discussions on escalation of tactics in the environmental movement, contrary to his book’s promise. It might be this hollow radicality that entertains bourgeois circles and will grant him a broad audience separate from the core of radical change.

Furthermore, his ability to brag about his own past flirtations with direct action, from the comfort of middle-class existence in a social democracy, shows that he really has no understanding of ecological struggle. People who actually risk themselves struggling for their land, their survival, our planet, face death or decades in prison. They do not get to put their actions on their resumé to sell books after just a few years. To put it plainly, Malm does not know the meaning of struggle. His expertise is in writing academic papers, securing a comfortable, privileged existence for himself, and climbing the class ladder.

Malm tries to ridicule James C. Scott for his not very popular nor influential book Two Cheers for Anarchism (2012), where he makes silly comments on traffic lights. If you’re familiar with Scott’s work, it becomes apparent that Malm’s attack might be caused by Scotts critique of Lenin in Seeing like a State (1998), exposing Lenin as controlling and elitist. Scott’s work will be mentioned further in the next sections.

[cherubchoirs]

One of your recent asks got me thinking, what is going to happen when V2 eventually hits its own expiration? How will Michael feel or what could he possibly do in this scenario?

i like to think michael and v2 tend to be much more...well-prepared for this eventuality than gabriel and v1 were. they're not sure how long v2 can go, given that through hell's meddling it's essentially cheated death, but it likely also isn't forever. however, v2 is aware of this and, again contrary to v1, is much better at not getting stuck on existentialist dread and instead working on a solution to its death. they both know it may be inevitable, but in the same way v2 takes up a lot of research in helping michael maintain his body, michael learns to be quite a skilled mechanic and v2 likely becomes something of a ship of theseus with the two consistently replacing its parts (michael becomes highly adept at modifying scrap - with the help of access to heaven's forge - to copy v2's parts). this does lead v2 to question its identity at some points, stemming all the way back to its original reconstruction, but it comes to the conclusion that this may just be the nature of the machine...or perhaps of living far beyond one's life expectancy.

v2 knows its mind is the most delicate part of itself though, a perfectly balanced quantum computer that must be maintained as the core part of itself because there's no scrap that can replace it in any other machine. this was the point of failure for v1 as well, and they're pretty doubtful hell would be feeling generous a second time. in a timeline where v2 continues to survive, i like to think it's maintained itself much better than v1 and so observes all that happens with it when it dies including its subsequent resurrection, inspiring it and michael in a likely similar capacity. to build a quantum computer, but one augmented by the divine, engineered by v2 and constructed in the heavenly forge by michael with both collaborating on the alignment of the crystal structure within it. v2 understands its own configuration and how to improvement upon it, while michael's knowledge of esoteric mathematics allow them to build a computer powered by the divine. uriel's knowledge base proves invaluable for this endeavor and it takes quite some time (many, many failures in prototyping, plus likely having the realization they'll need to also construct a more heavenly shell given that this computer would melt repurposed scrap lol), but i enjoy v2 being the first divine computer. importantly, this isn't a shift like v1's, who is now essentially part angel, part machine - v2's is subtler, still entirely a machine but now running on perfect, godly equations. it almost has a hard time keeping up with itself at first but it isn't put off by it since it was once a machine that was too human, so now it's a machine too divine.

however, i will add that in the event v2 reached the end of its lifespan, i think michael would seek his comfort in the idea that he cannot possibly last forever either. he knows he will die, he knows he will reach his end too, and v2 has proven, at least in his mind, that it has a soul. he would commit it to the earth, where it was born and what it had always wanted to protect, and he would join it there when he finally felt himself wilting. maintaining his faith as he does, michael would truly believe v2 is waiting somewhere for him, that the code woven by that computer is no different from DNA, that the mind it housed, all its emotions, its thoughts, its consciousness, had given it a spark of the divine. that humanity, from god, had passed down their soul to this grandchild of creation. its place is not in heaven or hell, but somewhere he doesn't know yet, somewhere finally fully beyond the physical where it doesn't need a body or blood. he's not sure if that means he's at last given into some kind of heresy, but he will continue to pray each day, asking v2 to help guide him when he finally joins it.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Was musing on the "Aware of Abuse" AU for the Sad Rich Kids Trio and ho it influences their behavior, or how their perspective has shifted, from least to most detailed:

Adrien: He is not overtly super different, in canon he was already expressing frustration with his father and ducking out from under his control to do what he wanted.

The main shift is rooted in his perspective. Namely that if his father does love him (Doubt) then his love is so toxic Adrien wants no part of it. He deems any concession Gabriel makes suspicious at best and deems any lingering affection on his own part as a childish thing he needs to outgrow.

Beyond that he's simply more blunt, he doesn't make excuses for his father and is a bit more aware of how the other kids parenting sucks. This ironically may actually make it harder for he & Marinette as she'd struggle to see what was wrong early on and presume him kind of a brat or rude for disrespecting his father so much.

Kagami: As one might expect given how heavily controlling and authoritive Tomoe is, Kagami has very little wiggle room to openly defy her or act differently without risking being trapped or extremely harsh punishment,

As a result the shift is more in subtle things and how she communicates and views the relationship. Namely, she does not love her mother and only pays lip service to respecting anything other than her material skills as a combatant. She also feels that given what her mother does to her is largely indistinguishable from hatred (The physical nature of sparring sessions & training are deeply unpleasant) that Tomoe's feelings don't matter.

Thus she's more overt around others in her disregard for her mother and already prone to trying to sneak off or undercut her. She has burner phones and secret social media accounts for example. In this regard she likely does not become Riposte.

Instead her emotions would be mostly fear of her mothers reaction & anger at the situation and what this costs her in general. Thus she likely turns into something intent on seeking her mother out and attacking her, or otherwise trying to force her mother into her shoes. I had a name for this I think, Aku-Gami? Anyway its basically a signal flare to Adrien & Chloe of "One of us! One of us! One of us!"

Chloe: Like with Adrien her shift would be fairly recent. Mostly in response to the clusterfuck handling of Adrien after Emilie's disappearance & her parents being their worst selves about it. She was on her last thread from keeping Adrien's head above water then being booted and so she explodes at her mother over the phone & rejects her father out of anything but necessity. After which she doubles down because she can't un-dig this hole but she can sure as fuck make it big enough to engulf them all.

Put simply, Chloe's ingrained "Fight" mentality has now been turned on her parents in full. She'd still struggle to articulate most of the things they did wrong, or why they were wrong. But she is angry, rebellious and good at lashing out so she does that and only concedes when she has no other choice or legitimately terrified.

Despite this her changes are less overt, her fight mentality is a survival mechanism like Adrien's people pleasing so she can't just turn it off. She's still been actively taught a lot of terrible things like its moral to cheat to win, & un-learning that is hard, especially if doing so makes you feel weak. & She's been mimicking Audrey since forever, that doesn't just go away over night.

At the same time though she has more freedom than the others & any overt issues she can identify she can try to address for good & ill. Her dad thinks she shouldn't hang around with people "beneath her station" Well screw that she's throwing a party in the ballroom for the class/school before the new school year starts & Adrien can come too.

This likely means she doesn't rip up Rose's letter cos that was like, peak Audrey. She might be tempted to do the social media thing with Kim cos that is something someone might do, but she'd also be more able to apologize for it. She may indeed still lock Juleka in the bathroom, unless they are like, actively friendly at this point.

A lot depends on how well her shifts in behavior are taken by the class as she's not gonna suddenly be super self aware or easy to get along with in many regards. Though given S1 still had Kim get a crush on her & Rose trust her with a letter, I tend to feel it makes more sense that not everyone had a bad impression of Chloe going into the year. So it'd vary.

Regardless, Chloe would be both the most extreme in shift, while keeping a lot of thorns. But she'd be more open to changing in general if able to contextualize a negative reaction as tied to something her parents would do, letting her aggressively reject it. If she feels 'she' was in the right though, she'd not shift her behavior at all but dig in deeper.

Fucking hell I do go on don't I?

Oh I love all of this though!!

[whataboutsimple]

Groundhog Day expect It's 8 whole years and lots of pain.

In other words, it's Gabriel The Warrior angst. Who knew that little medallion will drag you into pit of repeating hell? He called it "races".. race to survive.

!!TW: serious injures, blood, suicide themes!!

Please, if you don't feel safe or good, ask for help, there are always someone who will hear you!

He felt tired.

So tired, so tired.

Want to sleep.

Body does not obey.

The Warrior slowly trudged through the back streets with his Bodyguard, Reuben his name was? Who was trying to "avoid crowd of fanatics." He seemed to be saying something, but Gabriel wasn't listening. He felt like he was about to fall down and never get up again. He didn't have any strength. Everything seemed to be just a white noise, an insignificant squeak against the background of the approaching storm.

Oh, yes, The Storm.

Today he meets Ivor for the last time, before Potion Master creates this terrible monster.

But he was tired.

He doesn't have the strength to talk to him.

The Warrior wants to sleep, he wants to sleep so much. There was nothing but white veil before his eyes, it seemed like he didn't see where he was going at all. Perhaps he's just mechanically following the same route as usual.

Interesting, if he falls asleep, his body will continue to act according to the script? Oops, here he is, bumped into Bodyguard, because he noticed suspicious crowd of fanatics. Here, blond guy tells him to wait while he checks everything and makes sure it's safe to go.

Here he is, alone again.

At some point, it seemed to him that his skull would simply burst, splitting in two from the headache that he had been feeling lately.

His body didn't obey him at all, he felt numb. It was as if the Warrior was just a puppet, a puppet in someone's hands. Or is it a white, blind pain still haunting him after the last "race" as he dubbed them?

The Wither Storm caught him, dragging through the whole city and collecting every building along the way. Gabriel didn't knew, what he had died from. Perhaps the broken ribs had dug into his lungs, tearing them to shreds and causing him to choke on his own blood. Perhaps the impact of his head on one of the buildings was strong enough to shatter his skull into pieces. Perhaps that pillar that went straight into his stomach tore apart all his internal organs, forcing him to spit out the remains of his liver or kidneys. Or perhaps all those numerous fractures and open wounds caused the brain to pass out from shock and he died in WitherStorm.

The Warrior really doesn't know, but he sincerely sympathizes with the one who found his mutilated body.

He saw only a veil and heard only noise, not caring about anything. Brunette has experienced this moment so many times, seen that exact street, he probably knows every crack on it. Gabriel stopped trying to count the number of his "returns" back a long time ago, stopped trying to help everyone, to save them.

The closest thing Warrior has ever had to "good" ending are both alive Magnus and Ellegaard and not missing Soren.

But even in that scenario they abandoned him.

Everyone just went to their cities and homes. They left without even trying to ask how he was feeling. They didn't care. It was the moment Warrior felt broken for the first time. Trampled into the mud, absolutely crushed.

Since then, his blank expression has been almost the only emotion you could notice. Of course, he continued to pretend in public, to pretend that everything was fine. But everything was not fine. Nothing was fine. His eyes had not shone with the kindness, care and determination they used to for a long time. He went out inside, burned to the ground and left behind only ashes, which are now trying to move and live.

Gabriel could almost clearly draw an analogy with himself and the phoenix. Only in his case, each rebirth was accompanied by a deteriorating condition. Almost all of the scars received during these "races" remained on his body, even when he returned to the very first day. They made it very difficult for him to live. To exist. Every time he looked at them, they remind him what he had been through. Notch, his body were barely recognizable under the armor. Seemed like he was the main target of Griefers from BoomTown.

Sometimes it hurts. Every inch of his body in agony, so intense that his voice cuts off from screaming faster than it stops.

Sometimes he doesn't feel anything. Like now. He is only aware of where he is, what he is doing. But he doesn't control it at all. He's just.. just there, somewhere deep down. Exists, but doesn't seem to exist at all. An empty, empty cold gaze and nothing more. He had never looked so broken.

The nasty clatter of the stone on an iron block suddenly made him a bit awake. Here's Ivor.

To be honest, the Warrior didn't really care, he continued to stare at the same wall he had been looking at before. Ivor will notice him now, start ranting about how he needs to stop lying to people, then, without achieving the result he needs, will get angry and advise him to be careful tomorrow. Nothing new.

God, he was so tired.

He hadn't slept well in so long.

Unbearable, constant nightmares haunted him in every "race". It's safe to say that the Warrior has completely forgotten what a "normal sleep" is. He wakes up with a heart-rending scream of fear almost every twenty minutes, and the scenes of blood and violence that his brain projects are still in front of his eyes.

He had seen it all live and more than once. Saw and felt it. Felt and saw.

All those accidents when someone from the Order accidentally killed him. Ivor won the battle at Soren's temple. Magnus blew up TNT incorrectly. Ellegaard's machine went horribly wrong. These deaths were the most painful for him. They constantly haunt him in nightmares, always, always one of his own.. former friends are trying to kill him.

Disgusting, horrible nightmares that have been a reality many times.

He tried to run away from it, he really tried. He went far, far away, made new friends, even a family. But no matter what he did, those 8 fucking years were always repeating themselves. He could freely start killing everyone, knowing that if he was killed, then 8 years would begin anew.

But there was no point in such actions. None of this would have helped him get rid of the terrible curse that had overtaken him anyway.

The tips of the Warrior's fingers began to twitch, wanting to pick up a sword. After all, he felt the approach of someone behind him. Ivor. The tirade is about to begin.

He wants to sleep.

The Warrior had no patience left at all. He had been watching all this for so long, had endured this torture for so long, this sneering tone of the Potions Master, the way his eyes glittered with malice, how he did it.. He enjoyed his position. Is the simple disclosure of the truth so dear to him? Does he really just want to humiliate them?

The Warrior didn't know the answers to these questions, and did not really want to. His nerves were on edge. He couldn't take it anymore.

With one swift movement of his hand, the Warrior pulled out his diamond sword, immediately pushing the Potion Maker against the nearest wall and plunging the sword up to the hilt into the stone next to Ivor's head.

«Can you just fucking stop threatening me every time? Just shut the fuck up, shut up!» — The Warrior's eyes glittered with fierce rage, such, such intense rage. He had never been so angry at anyone before. Gabriel almost felt like he was going to slit his old friend's throat... Just let him shut up, please, keep him quiet, shut up, shut up, don't talk, don't get in the way, it hurts too much, it's scary, I don't want to hear anything.

The warrior clutched his head with his free hand, suddenly feeling a strong stab of pain, as if someone had hit it with a sword. He was so angry, so angry. Leave him alone, please.

«Why do you.. always.. come to me? Why are you trying to beat the truth out of me? Why not one of the others? An Engineer? A Rogue? Why not them, why the fuck me?!» — the Warrior almost shouted last words, taking a few steps away from Potion Master, still clutching tightly to his curly hair. Want to sleep.

Shaking his head several times, Gabriel tried to calm down. What's the point of asking anything at all? Do something? Anyway, everything will start over one way or another.

The dull headache continued to throb somewhere in the back of his mind. Why does it hurt so much?

Why was he so tired? Tired, tired, tired. Help.

Uncontrollable trembling, like a bucket of cold water, overcame the brunette. What's wrong with him? Why is he shaking so much? Why is he afraid? Want to sleep.

Something nasty got stuck on the walls of his throat. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, stop it!

The hero literally hit the nearest wall, unable to stay on his feet. Throat hurt, lungs burned, and head was spinning. The attempt to stand up and pull himself together not only failed, but also turned out to be a fatal mistake. Suddenly, the Warrior coughed, unable to stop the flow of tears that burst from his eyes. Why does it hurt so much? It seemed as if he was trying to spit out his lungs.

As soon as the coughing fit was over, the man slowly removed his hand from the mouth, realizing the cause of pain. Blood. He just coughed up blood.

So tired.

A new fit of rage seized the Hero's body, from which he instantly hit the nearest wall with terrible force, destroying one block and leaving cracks on the rest. Breathing heavily, the Warrior slowly turned to face the Potion Master, looking even worse than before. Trickles of blood slowly trickled down his chin, dripping onto the blue armor.

«The truth.. you just want to tell the truth?! You're a liar like the rest of us, Ivor! You're not a bit better than the others! You were there during the battle. You were there when we were all arguing, swearing and shouting at each other, and you were there, and you AGREED, just like the rest of us, to keep quiet! You promised you won't tell anyone the truth any more than we did! And now what?! Are you trying to get me to talk?! While you stay white and innocent?!» — Gabriel was literally at the limit, his head was throbbing violently and it seemed to him that he would simply fall and never get up again. He will die so stupidly.. Which time? 785 race. Maybe 823. He stopped counting after the 600th.

The Warrior's furious gaze could scare anyone away, making them think that he was crazy. Maybe it's true.

He doesn't know. He was tired.

This nightmarish, nightmarish headache made the man shed a couple of tears. Let it end, please, please, please.

For a split second, it seemed to him that he was right inside the Storm again. When Jesse saved Petra, not him. He wandered and wandered there, feeling his memories slipping right out of his hands. And then the pain came. Headache. Such a strong, throbbing, dull, disgusting pain. And it was, and was, and was there, tormenting him, making him want to die in the end. At one point, he didn't even remember who he was, how he got there. He just felt the pain. He was breaking down, breaking down with great speed. And no one tried to save him.

After particularly bad races, he was seeing a lot of things. Hallucinations. The doctors said it was schizophrenia, but after the race all the symptoms disappeared. He've just.. seen some things.

Sometimes it seemed to him that his former friends were nearby. That they're there. An Architect, a Rogue, an Engineer and a Potion Master. They were there, they really were. They were silent, they watched, but they were there. Although as soon as he tried to get closer, they left. They disappeared. Even his hallucinations didn't care about him.

For the first time, he was delighted. He was so, so happy, but he also broke down quickly. The Warrior thought they had come for him. That they had finally remembered him! They will help, they will calm him down. Then he thought about it. Why do they always leave? Don't they want to see him? Then he assumed. They're making fun of him. They mock him and his weakness. That he was alone and completely helpless. And then he realized. They are not there. It's not them. It's someone else. They don't exist.

That day, the Warrior began to doubt his own adequacy. Had he really gone mad? Maybe it's all just his nonsense? Or maybe it's hell? Then where are cauldrons of boiling water and Herobrine on the throne? Why is there no one else here? Is he alone? Did he really do something so bad that no one had ever done before, and for that he fell into this endless circle of agony?

He didn't know the answer. He didn't want to know. He wanted it all to stop. It doesn't matter which way.

He have been killing himself so many times. but still came back to the very first day. When he found this stupid medallion. He tried to break it, and there was absolutely no point in it, he just did everything he could, but these 8 years kept repeating themselves. Maybe he really deserved it all.

«Do you really have the nerve to ask if everything is okay with me?» — The Warrior slowly raised his gaze from the floor to the Potion Master — «You abandoned me, you all.» — he again became as empty as before. Once bright blue eyes, shining with joy, and resembling the sky, now seemed to be one continuous emptiness of the opera.

Lifeless.

«You left me alone to die. You, Engineer, Architect, Rogue. And never remembered again. Architect had his little meetings with Engineer. And you're with Rogue. I know you saw each other in Nether. I know you've been talking. But none of you ever thought to find out if I was okay. Even people began to worry. But not you. You didn't care then. You don't care now.» — the Warrior mechanically went for his sword, no longer looking at his former friend and loved one.

He was tired.

He wants to sleep.

Slowly pulling the sword out of the wall, he pointed it at himself.

Maybe he'll get some sleep.

[stranger-in-glasses]

TL;DR: Communication is actually the least of Crowley and Aziraphale’s problems. And working on communication alone would not have changed the outcome of Crowley’s confession.

I am saddened (but not really surprised) that so many people see communication as a “magic pill” that will solve all the problems in the world. The fan reaction to the Good Omens’ second season is a perfect example of that.

Yes, Aziraphale and Crowley do have a communication problem. But they also have genuine differences in their experiences and behavioural patterns, and they both have their own deep traumas. They cannot just “communicate their way out of” them.

And they do communicate. Crowley did tell Aziraphale what Heaven tried to do (when Crowley says “This is Archangel Gabriel, who tried to cast you into hellfire” in the first episode, Aziraphale is not surprised; they had this discussion before). Granted, he might have spared Aziraphale the more horrible details because he cares about his feelings, but the truth is: even if he did tell him about everything in detail, it would not have changed anything. Aziraphale would either not have believed him (“Would I lie to you?” — “Obviously, you’re a demon”) or he might have found countless excuses for Heaven to do what they did (“I’m a fallen angel! I lied to thwart the will of God!”). Aziraphale may not look like one might imagine a typical cult victim, but there are enough parallels between his behaviour and how people involved in cults behave (black and white thinking, ignoring the unethical behaviour of cult leaders, the idea that “we (members of the cult) are holy, everybody else is fallen”… the list can go on and on). Have you tried to talk to somebody who is in a cult about the horrible things that their cult leaders do? Even if you tell them that their cult violates children, it will have no effect. They will either think that you are lying (and they might stop talking to you completely after that) or they will find some excuses or some “greater meaning” in this (remember how Aziraphale reacted to the Flood?). Because that’s how being in a cult works. It’s a psychological defence mechanism. Aziraphale’s mind cannot handle the cognitive dissonance between “we are the good guys” and “Heaven does terrible things”, so it just shuts down the very possibility. Crowley DOES communicate, time and time again, he just cannot get through. And it’s not Aziraphale’s fault, either. He has been manipulated, gaslit and guilt-tripped for so long that his mind had to develop defence mechanisms to survive. It’s not that he doesn’t want to listen to Crowley, he just cannot hear the truth at the moment. And this is something that cannot be solved with communication. Many loved ones of people who are in a cult make the mistake of thinking that “If I just tell them how horrible these people are, they will see the truth” and only end up alienating the person, which leaves the person even more lonely and vulnerable to the cult’s manipulation, and their loved ones burn out trying to get the person out of the cult. It is a difficult task even for professionals. It is NOT a “communication problem”, you cannot simply talk the person out of it (well, maybe in early stages, but not after 6000+ years of being in a cult). I am not an expert, so I am not entirely certain about it, but I assume that what could help the rehabilitation is putting as much distance between the person and the cult as possible, integrating them into the life outside of the cult by participating in its activities (both of which Crowley has been trying to do with Aziraphale), and giving the person a community outside of the cult to give them a sense of belonging. But I assume it only works if the person has already left the cult. And since Heaven can literally be omnipresent, the danger of relapse is always there. I guess what can get Aziraphale out at this point is witnessing the atrocities firsthand, from the inside. And no, simply hearing Crowley talk about them will not help. Crowley can give Aziraphale a three-month-long PowerPoint presentation about everything that Heaven did, and it will not get through. They have vastly different experiences with Heaven. Aziraphale needs to see things with his own eyes to really understand. The fact is that all of us process what we are being told through the prism of our own experiences. And this difference in experiences is not something one can just “communicate away”. Sometimes to understand each other’s points and change perspectives, people need to acquire different experiences than they had before. In the most practical, hands-on way. Just talking about it will not help.

Crowley also has his own problem, a very strong “flight” part of the “fight-or-flight” response. Of course, he tried to “fight”, long ago, when he fought in the “glorious revolution”. And he was hurt, badly, as a result (going to Hell, where “his lot does not send rude notes” but rips out tongues and throws people into pits on daily basis). Understandably, nowadays when he feels a threat, he immediately switches into the “flight” mode (he is fixated on the idea of running away to Alpha Centauri). Which also probably means that he will always keep running and will never feel entirely safe or at home anywhere, until he learns, again, other ways to react. At the moment he is unable to admit that he cares about Earth enough to stick around. He probably tells himself that he only stayed because of Aziraphale. Now he has a chance to go anywhere he pleases. So he might find himself going to Alpha Centauri (or another place in the universe far from Earth) and finding out that he misses Earth. Or he might find out that, even without Aziraphale, he is not ready to leave the Earth. But he needs to discover that for himself, in practice. This is not something that Aziraphale can “communicate” him into understanding. Some things one needs to find out in reality, by trying things and seeing the outcomes. Also, Crowley has been very fixated on Aziraphale: rescuing him, being there for him even when Aziraphale seemingly rejected him (“We are not friends! We are an angel and a demon! I don’t even like you”, “There is no our side, not anymore”), risking his own complete destruction for Aziraphale’s safety. Crowley needs to learn how to exist on his own and find something else that matters to him. Otherwise their relationship is unbalanced. Aziraphale can do anything to Crowley and Crowley will just take it and come back no matter what. Of course, Aziraphale would never hurt Crowley on purpose, but he can, and has, hurt him unintentionally plenty of times, without even realising it. They both have to change their behaviour in this respect. Crowley needs to learn to establish his personal boundaries with Aziraphale, and the angel needs to learn to respect them. Meanwhile, Crowley needs to learn how to let go of control when it comes to Aziraphale’s safety and trust that the angel is able to handle things on his own, without Crowley rescuing him. And Aziraphale needs to learn to trust himself and his own capabilities as well. And all of this, again, cannot be solved with communication alone. Sure, communication would help in this instance. But it would only be the first step: for them to talk and figure out what they need to change. However, it is only around 10% if solution. After that comes the actual work of both of them changing their behavioural patterns, their long-term habits and automatic responses. And that work is long and tedious, full of missteps, relapses, trial and error, where many things need to be figured out in practice, by actually doing them and not simply talking about them.

In other words, the idea that “Crowley’s confession would have a different outcome if they just talked to each other” is very naive. Yes, there was miscommunication, but they did talk, a lot. And they could have talked and listened even more. But none of that would have changed the ending. Crowley and Aziraphale have very different experiences with Heaven, and they both have their own traumatic responses. None of that can be solved through communication alone. Real, actual actions and experiences, on the other hand, may change things for them. Communication is important, yes, but it is not a “magic pill” (take it from someone who has been to couple’s therapy). It will not solve real differences, it can only highlight them, make them visible. And then one actually needs to work on them, in practice. Problems don’t automatically solve themselves “if you just talk about them”. Communication is necessary but not sufficient.

That being said, I believe that both characters right now are exactly where they need to be to work on their problems. Aziraphale has a chance to see how Heaven really is with his own eyes, and Crowley has a chance to stop running away on his own and find something (like Earth and humanity) to stick around and care for aside from Aziraphale. Without this, they would probably never stand a chance of building a future together.

[lazyvase]

Those Other Three

Melissa "Missy" Salvo

Spontaneous (Combustion)

At a very young age, Missy proved herself to be a master of starting fires and explosions. Through her continued practice and study, she developed advanced technical skill and signature design philosophies. To call her creations "IEDs" would a be a disservice to her craft.

She would be diagnosed with pyromania, and committed to a psychiatric prison. The year spent in there is largely unrecorded.

Seeing potential in her abilities, Gabriel took Missy out and enrolled her at Stuart Gibbs Academy with a full scholarship. Wanting to take full advantage of a new chance, Missy decided to quell her fire-starting habits. Or tried to at least. Old habits die hard. Fortunately, her talents were much more (relatively) appreciated. She got high grades and accolades in her classes. She was even given permission to design her own unique weaponry.

However, socially she was still struggling. She was once again the loner. That is until she met her soon to be bestie, Pierce.

She joined The M Crew because Mary was one of the few people who didn't see her as a liability.

Tom Tabby

Outlaws and Paws

Orphan, street rat, and cat burglar, Tom Tabby grew up on the streets of Neo San Antonio. Born without a name, he had to name himself. To survive he and his younger sister, Jan Visible (she also had to name herself), had to scavenge and steal. They learned quick and became master thieves. Soon, they started stealing for the highest bidder.

Of course, everyone gets caught eventually. He and his sister were arrested for stealing, and were being prepared for prison. "Fortunately" for them, Gabriel saw promise in their skillsets. He had them both freed and enrolled to Stuart Gibbs Academy on a full scholarship.

Both he and his sister were on edge when they first arrived. They were very prickly and reclusive. However, Tom began to warm up to his new peers, realizing that Stuart Gibbs Academy was a (relatively) better circumstance compared to how he used to live.

He became a lot more comfortable when he met his soon-to-be BFF, Caleb. Caleb started hanging out with Tom because he had a crush on Jan. However, soon the two had tons of fun testing Caleb's gadgets.

The two were a dynamic duo before The M Crew. And once they both joined independently, their bond only grew. Tom joined because Mary is also suspicious of Gabriel.

Caleb Cable

Tech and Nervous Wreck

The son of a mechanic and junkyard owner, Caleb had no shortage of access to tools. Day by day he would tinker and experiment with the parts around him. Inspired by great scientists of his time, such as Dr. Terra Bartlett, he planned to become a genius inventor himself. He easily proved himself to be top of his class.

However, it wasn't enough. College is expensive. It looked like a dead end for his dreams. That is, until a very generous offer to Stuart Gibbs Academy came to him. His father forbade him from going, warning Caleb that an offer from Gabriel is not to be trusted. But Caleb knew this was his only chance. He ran away from home and accepted Gabriel's offer.

Caleb hasn't gotten a good night's sleep since.

Caleb soon found himself over his head with the dangerous lessons of the academy. He needed help from some with survival instincts. He found the perfect help in Jan and especially Tom.

The two became a dynamic duo before The M Crew. And once they both joined independently, their bond only grew. Caleb joined because Mary inspired him. If someone as... complicated as Mary could believe in herself, well maybe so could he.

Currently, he and The Mary Crew are on the hunt for Mary and Pierce's mother.

[blueberry-bubbles130]

Here's the second part of my Chloe Bourgeois redesign for my Miraculous Rewrite! Now I just need to do her miraculous design for when she's being blackmailed by Gabriel. I'm keeping her Queen Bee design the same because it works well for her.

The design on the left is for after Miracle Queen. After Miracle Queen her mental health declines resulting in her messy hair and wearing large dark blue hoodies. And the one on the right is after Chloe's parents go missing and Chloe's fight with Gabriel and Natalie. (I'm changing Hawkmoth's name so I'm just calling them Gabriel and Natalie for now). One of the bee hair pins is the hidden bee miraculous, the other was supposed to be a birthday gift from her parents, but they never got to give it to her because of Gabriel.

Miracle Queen in my rewrite happens much differently, because there is only the Ladybug, Cat, Fox, Bee, Turtle, Peacock and Moth miraculous. So instead of Chloe revealing the temporary holders identities when she's Miracle Queen, she almost reveals Ladybug and Cat Noir's identies but doesn't get the chance before Carapace stops her. And because of this Gabriel gets the bee miraculous.

After Miracle Queen, Chloe becomes a social pariah with everyone in her class hating her. Any tolerance they had for her and her bullying is gone, resulting in people bullying her and Marinette and Lila becoming the most popular people in class. She loses all of her popularity and the only friend that stays with her is Sabrina. Adrien is forbidden from hanging out with her by Gabriel, because Gabriel thinks that she is nothing but a lost cause. The only other positive aspect of her life at this point is that her parents realise how badly they fucked up when trying to raise her and promise to be better parents to her. However it doesn't last long because Audrey and Andre go missing when they go on holiday for their wedding anniversary.

A week after they're declared missing, Gabriel as La Dauge Noir (his new name, instead of Hawkmoth because I changed the moth he's designed after) shows up in Chloe's room and offers her a deal. She can work for him and Mayura using the bee Miraculous or he can kill her parents. For good measure he gives Chloe, Audrey's sunshades and Andre's reading glasses just to convince her he's completely serious. He also tells her to change how she looks when using the miraculous, so it can't be traced back to her. Chloe takes his deal because she feels there's no other option, Chloe's job is to show up at Akuma attacks and help the akuma as much as she can. After a while Chloe of helping Dauge Noir, and being made to test the fixed peacock miraculous so it's completely safe for Mayura to use, Chloe has a breakdown and tries to back out of the deal. Especially when she and Adrien figures out their identities, because neither of them want to fight each other due to having a sibling relationship. This results in Dauge Noir and Mayura fighting Chloe at an abandoned theme park, where an old fuel tank explodes infront of Chloe while she's trying to hide. This results in the facial burn, going blind in her left eye and being impaled by a metal bar. Chloe's survives but suffers with the injuries for the rest of the rewrite until the end. Pollen, Sabrina and Adrien help her to patch them up as best they can so she can help fulfil her end of the deal to Dauge Noir.

When Chloe's parents do go missing, she becomes quite depressed and begins to use more unhealthy coping mechanisms to try and cope. She begins drinking unhealthy amounts of sugar and caffeine to stay awake so she's ready for akuma attacks if they happen during the night. And because she's paranoid that Dauge Noir will come to kill her, or tell her he's killed her parents. This usually results in her sleeping through school lessons because she's so tired and she's also using the bee miraculous to hide her facial scars from others, so she's just exhausted. As well as this she becomes quite obsessed with horror movies, in an attempt to try and find something more horrifying than her current situation, it's her way of going it could be worse. She especially becomes obsessed with the first two Hellraiser movies.

Eventually they figure out Gabriel's Identity and they go to confront him.

[samwpmarleau]

fic: beware the jabberwock

whumptober day 6: regret masterlist: tumblr, ao3 Created by Dark Dimension magic, the Framework is a world all its own — which means it can be portaled to like any other.

Dr. Elias Morrow dies in an industrial accident, leaving his modest estate to his two nephews, Roberto, twenty-three, and Gabriel, twelve.

At least, that’s what Robbie gleans from snooping. Though, does it really count as snooping if it’s technically your house? It’s jarring, waking up in a bed that’s his own, yet not his own. He doesn’t recognize his bedroom, nor the rest of the house. It’s nice, nicer than his actual home, that’s for sure. There are no engine parts strewn on the kitchen table or car manuals on the bookshelf.

No, that’s not entirely true. There are car manuals — but they clearly haven’t been touched in years. On the table instead are books of concepts and blueprints way beyond his understanding, which Robbie at first assumes belong to Gabe. Then he sees the framed diploma on the wall: It’s his name on there, Caltech conferring upon him a master’s cum laude in mechanical engineering.

It makes his head spin a bit, until he remembers Gabe’s voice from long ago in quite literally another world.

How come you didn’t go back and finish school? We’re doing okay now. If you went back, maybe you could be an engineer, like Tío.

“An engineer …” he mutters to himself, running his fingers down the wooden frame.

He takes in the other photos scattered around the living room. Many are the same: Mom, Dad, Uncle Eli, him at high school football practice, Gabe at a science fair. One in particular catches his eye, however, of what appears to be his graduation. Various colored tassels hang around his neck as he rests his hand on the back of Gabe’s wheelchair. It gives him pause. He’d have thought that if Robbie — this Robbie — did go back and finish school, there’d have been no accident. That his path, and Gabe’s, would’ve been set on too different a course to end up on that same stupid road. No accident, no paralysis, no Ghost Rider.

A regular accident, then? Maybe Gabe was in the car with Mom and Dad when it crashed and survived where they didn’t. Or maybe it was the same as in the real world, except Robbie’s injuries hadn’t been fatal, so he’d had no occasion to beg the universe for help? Or was it none of those things and Gabe had simply been born that way?

Five minutes he’s been in this world and he’s already frustrated. It’s disconcerting to not know even the most basic of facts about his life.

The Rider had warned him about this, that this world could be alluring. Distracting. In fact, this was the exact reason the Rider didn’t want him to go into this dimension in the first place, seeing as how he could not follow. The constructed world was nearly perfect — but it existed in a reality all its own without a hell for a demon to attach itself to. At least, the Rider was not willing to gamble his own existence by jumping into a dimension that might swallow him whole.

Robbie himself, however, mortal and moping, the Rider was reasonably sure could survive if he were careful.

Which had felt so utterly patronizing that Robbie had walked through the portal mid-warning. Besides, it wasn’t like he could just not come. He wasn’t about to let a robot armed with the Darkhold have free rein over the people he’d come to consider … well, not friends, really, but coworkers. Allies.

The crux of it all is that regardless of what the intrepid S.H.I.E.L.D. team is or isn’t, they’re people he’s honor-bound to rescue. Maybe they can do it themselves — but he’s not about to take the chance that they can’t, that they’ll be trapped in this place forever under Aida’s thumb to do with what she will. Robbie knows all too well what it is to be someone’s puppet. If he can spare others that fate, he’ll do it no matter how strange or dangerous the circumstances.

The smell of smoke hitting his nose brings him out of his ruminations. He looks down to see it seeping from beneath his fingers, the wooden picture frame beginning to char. He drops it in alarm, glass shattering upon impact with the floor.

Robbie stares at his hands. Though there’s no active flame, he can feel the power running through his veins. It’s not exactly the same as he’s used to, like drinking off-brand Coke, but it’s close enough.

He doesn’t understand. The Rider had said this world couldn’t accommodate him, and Robbie doesn’t feel him inside his head, so how …?

Robbie jumps at the sound of a phone ringing. He reaches into his pocket for his cell, and finds nothing. The ring is coming from the kitchen wall — an honest-to-god landline. No bells or whistles, not even caller ID. Tabling the power mystery for later, he picks up the handset.

“Hello?”

“Robbie! Glad I caught you. You headed into work yet?”

He doesn’t remotely recognize the voice, nor does he have the slightest clue where “work” is. “Uh, no, not yet. What do you need?”

“One of the guys called out, some family emergency, and half the DMV metro has decided to have car troubles today. Mind filling in for old times’ sake?”

“Fill in as … a mechanic?”

“You said if I ever needed a favor —”

“Yeah, that’s fine, just …”

He has no idea if it’s fine. For all he knows, wherever he works would cap him for missing a day. But that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets to it. Fixing up some rides would not only be a welcome return to form but give him ample opportunity to learn some more about this place.

“Can you give me that address again?” he asks.

“You serious?”

“Moved on to bigger and better things, man, what can I say?”

After some indignation, the guy on the other end does give him the address. Robbie manages to find a map of D.C. in his office and charts the route to the shop.

The Charger sitting pretty in his avatar’s garage is a sight for sore eyes. Apart from having apparently been retrofitted with seatbelts, she looks the same. Sounds and feels the same, too, as he starts her up and eases out onto the road. While using a portal for transportation has its novelty and convenience, there’s nothing quite like the rough purr of his baby’s engine.

The only thing that mildly dampens his enjoyment is the realization that if ever there were a time to obey the speed limit, it’d be now. With the Rider, having a lead foot never mattered — the power that imbued the Charger with regenerative capabilities and pyrokinesis also prevented cops from noticing her speed.

Now, he’s got no demon to fend off law enforcement, and although he doesn’t know what the penalty here is for speeding, he assumes it’s more than a fine. Which is heat he definitely doesn’t need. He’s got a mission to carry out.

The farther he drives, the more he decides speed isn’t the issue anyway. It’s the surroundings. Everything is gray and uniform, with HYDRA symbols stamped on every available surface. Electronic highway signs tell people to report their neighbors. Dilapidated neighborhoods are a dime a dozen. Even the few people that actually walk the streets look miserable. The only familiar thing about any of it is that his car gets double-takes of admiration. He wonders if his avatar had gotten special dispensation to keep it. There is very little variety in the other cars he passes.

He walks into the shop with what he hopes exudes confidence, even as he takes in with disgust all the HYDRA propaganda posters littered on the walls. Required reading, no doubt.

“Reyes!” comes a voice across the shop. Its owner Robbie recognizes in person no more than he did over the phone. With a proffered uniform, the man greets, “Appreciate the help. Got a full slate for you as soon as you get dressed.”

Robbie nods, then heads into the back room to change. He hopes he can get the lay of the land quick enough to point him in the direction of how to find the team. If HYDRA’s running the show, he doubts S.H.I.E.L.D. will be up and running out in the open, which means it’ll take precious time to figure out where they are.

—

“A flat tire?” Robbie blinks in bewilderment as Phone Man — whom Robbie has since learned is named Perry — tells him the reason for pulling him from an accident repair job. “That’s what you’re sending me out on a call for?”

“What, you’re too good for it?” says Perry, frazzled and perturbed. “The call came from a HYDRA number, it’s top priority.”

If Robbie never hears the word HYDRA again after all this is over, it’ll be too damn soon.

“All right, I’m going, I’m going.”

The address leads him to a deserted stretch of highway outside the city, which makes him a little apprehensive. It doesn’t seem like a normal place a HYDRA agent would be. Then again, even after several hours of being in the shop conversing with both ex-work buddies and customers alike, the biggest things he’s gathered are that this world well and truly sucks, and that HYDRA has a habit of popping up when it’s most inconvenient for its citizens.

The vehicle is easy to spot, at least, halfway onto the road’s narrow shoulder and predictably emblazoned with HYDRA’s ostentatious sigil. A young woman leans against the side, looking annoyed rather than concerned or in trouble. Maybe he can delay, ask her some questions. While it’s been a good decade since he’s had reason to charm anyone, he can give it a shot.

“Need some help, ma’am?” he asks cheerily as he approaches with a toolbox. “We got a … call …”

He stares at the woman, stunned. She stares back at him, equally so. Because it’s not just a woman, it’s Daisy. She looks different, hair past her shoulders with a drab wardrobe and distinctly less eyeliner, but it’s unmistakably her. He’d know her anywhere.

“Robbie?”

She recognizes him, too, then. Thank Christ.

Dryly, he replies, “Surprise.”

“Wait … you’re you? Real world you?”

“Yeah, I’m me. Mostly.”

“How? And what do you mean ‘mostly’?”

“Long story. Short version, I’m here to help.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in months,” Daisy says with a tired yet brilliant smile. “God, I can’t wait to see Aida’s ass get lit up.”

If only.

“About that … Ghost Rider’s not in the building.”

“Excuse me?”

“Part of that long story. I was able to portal to this dimension, but he couldn’t.”

Daisy grimaces. “Not gonna lie, it would’ve been useful to have that firepower.”

“Well,” Robbie says, trying not to be offended, “there is this.”

He focuses on the frenetic energy that sluices through his every cell down to the very marrow of his bones, then watches with satisfaction as a ball of fire forms in his palm.

Daisy’s eyes go wide. “Okay, hold up. You’re an Inhuman?”

“I think so.” Robbie extinguishes the fireball with a sizzle. “It’s probably the closest Aida could get to what I actually am.”

“Nice of her to activate your powers. That makes one of us.”

“You can’t quake anything here?”

“Nope. I still have the gene, but I haven’t gone through terrigenesis. Guess Aida didn’t bother making sure you hadn’t since that showdown with Eli seemed pretty final.”

As shameful as the feeling is, he can’t help but be a little happy that he’s here. It may not be a physical realm, and it may be run by the worst humanity has to offer, but he’s as close to being on Earth and his own person as he’s likely ever to be again. No fire except that which he can make himself. No brimstone or unholy screams or blood, guts, and ichor staining his hands. He tries not to think about the fact that once the team gets out of this place and Aida is dealt with, he’ll be bound once more for hell.

This world, Earth, Daisy, it’s all fleeting.

Focusing on the woman in front of him and not the after, he asks, “did you really call for a flat tire? You don’t know how to change one yourself?”

“Of course I know how to change one. There’s no spare in this thing, and the car called the closest mechanic. It was either try to get somewhere on foot or wait for a tow.”

“And your plan was what? Steal the truck?”

“Maybe. I don’t need powers to commit grand theft auto.” Daisy glances down at the hand that a few moments ago had held a fireball. “How’d you get yours anyway?”

“No idea. I think the accident Gabe and I were in still happened, but it’s not like I could Google it. Aida really went full fascist, didn’t she?”

“Absolute power, blah blah blah. So, are we gonna go or what?”

“Go? Go where?”

Daisy grins. “How’d you like to become an enemy of the state?”

[tchtra]

Best video game.

Why?

Oh that's difficult.

Gonna have to say ULTRAKILL

Massive rant about it and a few other games below

The fast-paced first person shooter has literally everything I would want for a fps. Cool mechanics (slam-storage, railcoin, chargeback), not much dialogue (the only time you're forced to listen to someone talk without being able to fight it's either skipable or at the very end of the act). The boss fights are incredibly fun, like I would gladly replay any of them just for fun. The P-Rank makes the game very replayable and the reward of getting to fight an even more difficult boss is so worth it.

Plus, despite not getting all that much screen time, the main characters/bosses in ULTRAKILL are very memorable.

Like Gabriel, who was seen as a disgrace by the angel council for losing to you, a simple machine. The council removes his holy light and will perish in 24 hours. Instead of enjoying his time left, he decides to fight us once more, enraged by what you've done to him. Half way through the fight, he starts laughing, genuinely enjoying the combat with you. When he looses, he comes to the realisation of how corrupt the angel council was and does the only reasonable thing and kills every single member. He'll still die though.

The concept itself is very interesting as well. You're a war machine that runs on blood and you're going to kill everything until there's nothing left. Humanity is dead so you travel through hell killing husks, machines and even gods. This plays into the gameplay and mechanics of the game more than you'd expect.

The mechanics in the game are so so fun. There's the basics like being able to slide and groundslam. But with your first unlockable weapon, the marksman, it opens up new opportunities for tech and all that gun does is allow you to throw a coin which if you shoot, it guarantees a bit on any nearby enemies. And that's just one weapon. Then you've got the ability to parry projectiles which. Funnily enough, the shotgun pellets count as a projectile so when you "parry" them after shooting, it causes an explosion. It's honestly my favourite way to rack up style points but I can't do complex tech like chargebacks and dead coining. The addition of a style meter makes you want to play in a way which gets you the most stylish way possible.

As well as the main story levels, there's an endless arena area called the Cybergrind where you try and survive for as long as possible while killing enemies stylishly. As with most endless modes, it gets more difficult the longer you survive with harder waves spawning and the introduction of radiant enemies (enemies with more health, speed and damage). This makes Ultrakill infinitely replayable as people try to get the highest score on it. My best is wave 23 on Violent and 25 on Standard.

I'm definitely not the best at it, I haven't P-ranked most of Layer 7 and I haven't even gotten past the many enemies to complete P-2 but this game is great and I can't wait to see what waits for us in the rest of act 3

Honourable mentions to Half Life and TF2. Both are great games by Valve which will never get a third installment.

TF2 is so much fun but the bot problem has really been ruining it. I hope VALVE actually try to fix it after this #savetf2 movement. I personally main Medic which just means I can't aim to save my bloody life- I love the characters, their personalities and playstyles. They're all so unique yet yet stereotypical at the same time. I love the meet the team shorts and how well they establish the characters. This as well as their adventures in the comics really shows the world of TF2 well. The various hats you can get are unique and allow you to make the mercs your own (I have watched death of an art style but I don't think that the cosmetics are the biggest problem for TF2 right now-). The community is completely insane and I'm glad we're all still here after everything the game has been through. I love the fan-made projects so much. The various sfm animations talented creators have made never fail to impress. Like Emesis Blue, a psychological horror movie about the TF2 mercenaries made entirely in SFM, a software that's around as old as TF2 itself! TF2 is really being carried by the community and thank you to anyone who contributes, you guys are incredible. I know I've gone off about the community more than the actual game but without the community, there would be no TF2. But yeah TF2 is amazing, I miss the PS3 version as that was how I first played TF2 when I didn't have a pc.

Half Life as a game series is absolutely incredible. Valve completely changed the opinion of FPS games and the gameplay as a whole. The slower build to the resonance cascade, the scientists chatter, the interactivity as a whole contributes so much to the world building if the first game. The combat options were unique and fun to experiment with while providing interesting enemies to use them on. Of course, the Xen chapters were a bit bland but they still set the atmosphere of what was to come. And Black Mesa's complete remake of Xen completely fixes that if you do have a major issue with it.

Half Life 2 completely blew my mind the first time I played it. I had never seen anything to do with Half Life (except the references to it in TF2) so when I played it, it was amazing. Just like TF2, I first played it on the PS3. There's not many differences except the load times (which were horrid) but I still completed the game.

I hardly remember anything from my first play through of Episode 1 but I did get really attached to Alyx. Oh and I found the kleiner broadcast funny. Episode 2 is a completely different story. I loved every single second of it (there weren't achievements on PS3 version so I didn't do the gnome challenge and it shows-). The car section was fun. I liked looking for those supply crates and doing the physics puzzles to get to them. Hunters were really fun to fight but once I discovered they get instakilled by the jalope, I just started running them over. Made the final sequence much easier. The helicopter fight was interesting. And the ending. Oh my god, the ending. I ain't gonna lie, that shit hurt. It's a shame they rewrote it for Half Life Alyx.

Speaking of Half Life Alyx, I never got to play it but it looks incredible. I hope to be able to play it some day but right now, I have to stick to watching playthroughs.

I love Half Life but at this current moment I prefer ULTRAKILL, may change.

Uh yeah, I'm normal about all these games

[jennyandvastraflint]

Xena Reactions S1Ep17! Here we go, after surviving covid...

A shiny! Aaaand lots of hooded people

OOP THEY STOLE

Hehe Xena

Oh she's enjoying chasing him

GABRIELLE MY BELOVED :D

They replaced it beforehand shdhshs

Thunk thunk thunk. Hehe

She wants to EMPLOY him. AIGHT

"the most valuable object in the world" Xena you've already got Gabrielle's heart

"Didn't Hercules tell you I'm an honourable man?" the SILENCE

He untied his hands... Gabrielle just going "Ah. Ah."

HEHE SHE TIED HIS FEET TOO

Them playing to his ego

"No it worked. I'll do it" djfhshhd

"However, this man has financial needs"

"Any less and it wouldn't be" dhdh Exactly buzz off

Him chewing on the toothpick T_T

The uncomfortable laughter

Xena wants to stab him so bad. And I completely agree.

"He was my brother" SPITS. XD

Oh hello Xena... I'm looking respectfully at the cleavage

PFFFT He just tried to kill the dude xD

Are they gonna pull him overboard

Oh, okay just across the deck

-_- Urgh, men

HE CAN CHOKE ON THAT GRAPE

"Nothing is as big as mine" 😭

"Hu. Only one bed." Please...

"Heads it is" Hehe. She flipped him

OOOOOH, That sounds like an intriguing mechanism, so finely tuned

She's got to dance again?

Oh is he making a mold of the key to make his own later

AHAHAHAAA, She yeeted the food at him

He deserves it.

Oop, did he die??? Yikesss

Awww, they helped Xena <3

"my mother died when I was eight" Why is it always 8 year olds. Like... Seriously XD

AHAHAHAAA HER TOPPING HIM

Headbutt the guy sjdhshs

"You and he didn't..." I call it now this bisexual dude made out with Hercules

Her distracting the guy. And his foot got caught.

UUUUH

She's so annoyed with these men, she just wants her wifey

GABRIELLE!?

OOP. The real Centerius

Wiggle wiggle wiggle

Yay they save Gabrielle

Those two are going to kiss. Because I say so.

Xena helping... Or something

HER VOICE GOES SO SOMFT WHEN SHE TALKS TO GABRIELLE

Gabrielle my beloved babygirl

Urgh not THAT guy again

"I think I'm kidding myself" yes you are

Wiggle wiggle wiggle

This is so ridiculous omg

That's the noise my shoulder also makes

GABRIELLE TO THE RESCUE

MY BELOVED GABRIELLE (hand in marriage pls?)

Did Xena just stab a guy in the nuts? New bottom surgery just dropped

Oh it can glow ominously

A LIGHT :D

Is it gonna melt his face off

Okay it just burned him. LOLLLLLL

It this the Ten Commandments???

"And after this, I never will" Lmao

SJFHDHD PLS HE'S WAITING FOR A KISS AND SHE HOLDS OUT HER HAND

He saved it for himself with a kiss to her hand

Awww, he gave back the money

GABRIELLE!!!!

Istg... She's just like one Jenny Flint fr 😂

And Xena being all "Omg thou shalt not steal???" the flirting and teasing fr