#kind of cathartic

[doodlingfoolishness]

I am out of my goddamn soul

(Cal Kestis on Nova Garon in pencil)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

So I'm putting together an In Defence of Cassie PowerPoint for a PowerPoint night with friends. Do you have any arguments for or against her? I trust your opinion and am curious.

Let's see.

"She's too powerful, too unique, too far-seeing, and not good enough for Jake! What a Mary Sue!"

Counterpoint: May I introduce you to the reigning champion fan favorite, Sad White Boy Tobias?

Only nothlit ever to regain the ability to morph

Only known human-andalite hybrid ever to exist

Regarded as savior by entire hork-bajir species

Entire existence is a time paradox the war hinges upon

Pulls the canonically "most beautiful girl in our grade", who turns down 6 or 7 other offers in favor of Bird Boy

Correctly predicted planetary ecology 65 million years in advance

Believed to be immune to 2-hour limit

In conclusion: y'all wouldn't be crying "Mary Sue" if Cassie was a sad white boy, and I can prove it.

"She's too weak and hand-wringing, and she never helps the war effort!"

Counterpoint: First of all, the fact that the same people say this in the same breath as "she's too powerful" is... telling. Secondly:

She saved the entire team's lives in #24, in #29, in #44, and in MM1, among others.

Specifically calling out #44 — that ending shows she is willing and able to be ruthless when her friends are in need. She doesn't like slaughtering human-controllers, but if the alternative is everyone she loves dying, then she'll fucking well do it.

Much like Jake (see: Sad White Boy), she's more willing to risk herself than her friends, hence the end of MM1

Her medical knowledge saves Marco from rabies, Ax from brain!appendicitis, and Tobias from bird flu.

Her survivalist knowledge saves everyone in #25 (the Arctic), MM2 (Cretaceous Era), #11 (rainforest), and #14 (desert).

In conclusion: Cassie's only idealistic-looking by the standards of this extremely morally gray team.

"She's so unfair to Jake!"

Counterpoint: Jake? The Jake who refused to speak with her for weeks? Jake who proposes marriage while they're still broken up? Jake who announces he'll never trust Cassie again because she [checks notes] saved his brother's life? That Jake?

Also:

She gives him tons of emotional support in #16, #21, #47, and other times he's feeling low.

They have a healthy argument where they air differences and come to an understanding in #9.

Did I mention he doesn't just dump her but ghosts her in the middle of the war's endgame?

They're teenagers. Their relationship isn't perfect, but it is built on open communication and mutual respect which is more than Rachel and Tobias can say

She's fighting a war, and PTSD for that matter. No, she doesn't have infinite emotional bandwidth.

In conclusion: Their relationship is fine, their breakup is mutual, and her behavior only looks bad if, once again, you're holding Cassie to a different standard than you are Jake.

"She shouldn't have trusted Aftran!"

Counterpoint: friendly reminder that the alternative was killing a 6-year-old for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that's what you think Cassie should've done, that tells us more about you than about her.

"She spends too much time moralizing!"

Counterpoint: this is a book series about war, not a friggin' video game. If you want moral pornography, go play Call of Duty. If you want sci fi realism, then you're going to have to accept that a majority of humans prefer not to kill their fellow humans if at all possible.

"She's a ripoff of [insert character here]!"

Counterpoint: literally every single one of these says more about the commenter than about the source work. "Every dystopia is set in the U.S." is the kind of thing only people who only read books by American authors would think. "All epic fantasy is Eurocentric" => tell me you only read books by white people without telling me. I'm glad you think Cassie is too similar to Willow Rosenberg, but there are at least 6 other stories in the known world, and I hear some of them even feature sweet/dorky/caring characters who are secretly ultra-powerful.

In conclusion: You don't have to like Cassie as a (fictional) person, but 85% of criticisms directed at her are bad-faith attacks on one of the 1990s' only fat Black female gnc ultra-powerful superheroes.

[zem-zem-zoom]

collection of some old (and new) sam and max doodles 👽

[catcas22]

I hate how the dlc turns the Battle of Aeonia into a farce.

It wasn't two noble warriors, each admirable in their own right, brought to blows by irreconcilable visions for the future.

It wasn't a brother and sister pitted against each other in a brutal war for succession in which their only choices were victory or death.

It wasn't a tragic misunderstanding, Malenia desperately seeking to rescue her kidnapped brother and Radahn defending his home.

The explanation that we all thought was reductive, caricaturish, borderline insulting to the characters, ended up being confirmed canon. Radahn was a Gaston-esque moron determined to test himself against the Undefeated Swordswoman, consequences be damned, and Malenia was a coldblooded attack dog willing to nuke an entire continent to ensure victory.

I hate it so, so much.

[whumpacabra]

Whump that is about change. Whump that is about acceptance. Whump that is about adapting to loss. Whump where there is no rehabilitation, no getting back what’s gone. Sometimes things happen and there is no going back, there is no getting better. Sometimes the person that comes out the other side is different and they will never be the same again. Sometimes you need to grapple with the reality that most people don’t bounce back from traumatic brain injuries, from severe burns, from lost limbs and are their old selves ever again.

Whump that is about change, with no going back, and how the world won’t end because of it.

[marley-manson]

the topic is Trapper and the army as foils, you have three hours, go

In no small part the satire of Mash, particularly in the first half of the show, is tied up with gender performance.

The army represents traditional, stifling and violent masculinity. This is shown through everything from freudian jokes about guns (eg Frank and Margaret's flirtations in The Sniper or The Gun), to Margaret trying to cajole Hawkeye into performing a more traditional standard of masculinity while treating him like a soldier in Comrades in Arms Part 2, to many jokes and comments about (usually) Hawkeye not being a real man in contrast to army standards and various specific army personnel (eg Lyle in Springtime, Flagg in White Gold), to Frank and Margaret's worship of the masculinity of the army ("He's twice the man you'll ever be," re: Flagg and Hawkeye, Margaret's lust for MacArthur, Frank pursuing the sniper in The Sniper in an attempt to be a "real man" in Margaret's eyes, etc) to many jokes positioning the military as a sexually aggressive man pursuing Hawkeye ("Sure, the sun the moon the stars, your high school letterman jacket. Same deal I promised nurse Baker." "A receipt please, and promise you'll go out with other doctors," etc.)

In contrast, the main characters all fail to perform traditional gender in some way, from crossdressing to immaturity to indecisiveness to peacefulness to Margaret's masculinity and Frank's pathetic failure to live up to his own masculine ideals, to just about everything about Hawkeye. His cowardliness, his jokes about not being a real man, his jokes about taking the feminine role in sexual encounters with men and women, even multiple double entendres about his average at best penis size.

Trapper is the most traditionally masculine of the main cast. He still subverts masculinity in some subtle ways here and there, such as the occasional feminizing joke and mentions of not being in great shape, but overall he's the more butch counterpart to Hawkeye's fem. He plays the role of boxer while Hawkeye plays the role of diva in their respective manager/star roleplaying episodes. He's broader and buffer and plays football, often seen playing catch with someone while walking around the compound, while Hawkeye disdains sports and doesn't participate. He reads Field and Stream which Hawkeye derides in Alcoholics Unanimous while making a wry comment about shaving his armpits. A past lover nicknamed him Big John.

And there are many, many jokes about Hawkeye and Trapper being sexual partners. The recurring Uncle Trapper and Aunt Hawkeye gag, if my father sees this you'll have to marry me, for me? only if you put those on, your father and I will tell you what we did to have you, that's when I fell in love with him, etc etc etc. It's constant. In these jokes Hawkeye usually takes the feminine role, though not strictly every time ("Me and the missus," is one exception in As You Were, the dance in Yankee Doodle Doctor is another).

Trapper's masculinity is differentiated from traditional military masculinity in a few ways. Most obviously, Trapper abhors the military's violence. He never uses guns and mocks Frank's obsession with them, he's a healer rather than a soldier, and he's disgusted by the results of military violence on the men on his operating table.

He's also secure in himself. The military's brand of masculinity is strongly characterized by insecurity and overcompensation. Frank is the main representative of this military insecurity - a coward who insists he's brave (The Army Navy Game), a man who clings to a phallic gun to compensate for his sexual and gendered inadequacies (a main theme of The Sniper, perfectly mirrored when the army itself comes in with a vastly disproprotionately powerful automatic machine gun on a helicopter to shoot down one sixteen year old), a homophobe repressing his own attraction to men (As You Were, the original script of George), etc. We also see this in Flagg, who implicitly sublimates sexual urges into violence (seen when he suggestively caresses his gun while describing how he wants to torture a boy in Officer of the Day).

Trapper doesn't need to overcompensate. He's well-endowed physically, he's portrayed as a competent and considerate lover, he's a brave man who doesn't mind being seen as a coward, and he may or may not be attracted to men but either way he's not a homophobe (George) and he doesn't express his sexuality through violence. When Margaret proves herself stronger than him, his response is to be impressed rather than offended (Bombed). When he dances with Hawkeye for a gag, he doesn't mind letting Hawkeye lead.

He's also differentiated in terms of tradition, with the mliitary representing a more propagandic 50s traditionalism, and Trapper representing a 70s, countercultural freedom from tradition. We see this in the way Trapper has plenty of sex despite being married, while adultery is a court-martial offense in the military. It's notable that he's open and carefree about it, while Frank and Margaret are surreptitious and hypocritical in their affair. This lack of traditionalism is also shown in his disrespect for authority, often in direct contrast to Frank and Margaret's worship of it, and his allyship to George who the military would persecute for his sexuality.

So ultimately we can see that while Trapper and the military are both examples of masculine performance, Trapper's masculinity differs from the military's in being more flexible, less violent, less traditional, and more secure. The military's masculinity is far more toxic than Trapper's, particularly in the context of 70s counterculture media, which aligns womanizing with sexual liberation rather than a lack of respect for women, accurately or not.

This contributes to their respective dynamics with Hawkeye.

Hawkeye, we've established, is usually more feminine, and there are a myriad of jokes characterizing Trapper as his sexual partner, as well as the military as a sexual pursuer.

The jokes Hawkeye and Trapper make about their relationship tend towards cozy domesticity. They're Radar's "aunt and uncle," they directly roleplay marriage ("Martha, we're going to have to move, the people upstairs are impossible,") and less directly behave as though married (the bickering in Alcoholics Unanimous, the discussion about naming their pony in Life With Father). Occasionally they're treated as a healthy couple in contrast to Frank and Margaret's toxicity ("While I'm gone, promise you'll go out with other doctors," vs "Touch anyone else and I'll cut off your hands" in Aid Station).

In some instances the jokes lean towards predatory - "If you're trying to get me drunk, it'll work," or "Who is this man in bed with me?" "I followed you home from the movies," but they're always playful, always fond. If Hawkeye takes on a submissive or victimized role in these jokes, it's one he has fun with and discards just as easily in the context of the rest of his relationship with Trapper.

So, it's important to note that Hawkeye and Trapper support each other and look after each other in an equal, enthusiastic friendship. From Trapper ensuring Hawkeye gets to sleep in Doctor Pierce and Mr. Hyde, to Hawkeye supporting Trapper when he wants to adopt a child, to Trapper right at Hawkeye's side as they attempt to procure an incubator, they are there for each other every step of the way. If their relationship is a marriage in some ways, it's a healthy, strong, and non-traditional marriage, an equal and open partnership free of jealousy and insecurities.

Compare that to the military's relationship with Hawkeye. In jokes it's characterized as powerful and predatory, far from an equal partnership. Sometimes it approaches positive - in Carry on Hawkeye, much of the humour is derived from Hawkeye and Margaret's gendered role reversal as she assumes military command of the unit. Hawkeye playfully calls her sir, seductively lies on her desk like a secretary in a porn film, and most notably treats an immunization shot as sexual penetration in a prolonged gag about sexual role reversal. Hawkeye has fun playing a sexually submissive role to a representative of military authority in this episode, but it is a submissive role.

Several of the one-off jokes have a similar sensibility, such as the double entendre of "My bellybutton's been puckering and unpuckering all day," in response to a representative of MacArthur assuming their excitement over the general's arrival to the unit, or Hawkeye's "Okay, take me, I'm yours," to Colonel Flagg. They demonstrate a willingness to play the receptive role on Hawkeye's part, but they also, pointedly, disturb the object of the jokes.

When Hawkeye makes these jokes that sexualize military authority, he's attempting to be provocative as well as defiantly drawing disruptive attention to his own powerlessness as a drafted surgeon. The power dynamic between Hawkeye and the authority of the military only goes one way, and Hawkeye gets a kick out of pointing it out in ways that perturb the representatives of that authority, but it's a power dynamic that takes its toll on him.

Many of Mash's plotlines revolve around Hawkeye rebelling and attempting to seize some scrap of agency back from the military. Adam's Ribs, for example, in which he starts a mild riot over the food he's being fed and spends the episode attempting to procure barbecue ribs from Chicago (which Trapper procures for him), or Back Pay where he tries to charge the military for his forced labour. A particularly notable example is Some 38th Parallels, in which Hawkeye complains about being paid the equivalent of a nickel per operation, and his frustration manifests in impotency until he can perform a gesture of rebellion against the military.

One unfortunate consistency of these episodes is that the army ultimately retains its power. When Hawkeye achieves his goals, it's only in small ways that do little more than satisfy his own need to assert his sense of self. Often, Hawkeye doesn't achieve his goal at all, but is thwarted by the army, such as in For Want of a Boot. In every instance he remains powerless in comparison to the authority of the military.

So the context in which Hawkeye makes these sexualized jokes about the military literally fucking him is one of abject helplessness. In a sense, all he's capable of is pointing out what the military is doing and putting it in his own, audacious terms. He's not capable of preventing it. His jokes usually have an edge of bitterness to them in delivery, and when they don't, that tone is imparted anyway by the greater context.

With Trapper, Hawkeye can play-act a marriage or an assault, but in either case he's an enthusiastically consenting, equal partner. Trapper's performance of masculinity allows for Hawkeye to take any role from victim to wife to husband, and enables Trapper to respond in kind from a position of equality and respect. The military, in its insecure, domineering performance of masculinity, is a dictatorial authority, never allowing Hawkeye perform any role but a feminized, victimized one, and only ever giving him the choice of whether to perform with a wry smile or a sneer.

In short, Trapper is the cool, considerate service top to the military's insecure domineering boyfriend.

I'm tagging everyone who enabled this lol, share the blame. @beansterpie @majorbaby @professormcguire @rescue-ram

[the-witchhunter]

You know those video games where the character has to complete puzzles and work through their trauma to escape/wake up/something? Obstacles getting in their way and being tied to their past as they delve more into their trauma and have to learn/heal from it before they can progress?

Danny has been around a loooong time. He's old, he's powerful, and has a space in the ghost zone that he controls much like a god. The ghosts have long since started leaving him alone, the ones he's friends with have their own affaires to deal with, and in his ever shifting labyrinthian layer he's too powerful, and even outside of it he can still kick their asses.

and he's without a purpose

His friends had long since passed on after leading long and wonderful lives with him, not even leaving a ghost behind. His Family as well. Jazz had never had children, and try as he and Sam might have, half dead as he was he couldn't have children. He had no one left and nothing to do, and all of eternity to do it in.

Thinking of Jazz is what made him do it the first time

She loved helping people with her psychology, and Danny decided to do it in his own way. It hadn't been pretty, and it hadn't been easy, but he had found his method. Some took to it better than others, and many had different theories about his lair and his motives, but he helped people move past their trauma. Some believed his lair was some kind of purgatory, and... they weren't totally off

So, when Danny moved on to the timeline of the DC multiverse, he had some experience under his belt

He just underestimated how much trauma superheroes can have

[midnightwind]

Summary: A summons home with an air of unease. Viago's talks are always a unique agony as a de Riva.

Warnings: if you aren't okay with stabbing, violence, and poisoning, pass this by

Word count: 2367

~◇~

Renn

Return to the Nest. No eyes.

Viago

She creased the corner of the short letter on loop, folding and unfolding it, brows furrowed. It had been a very long time since Viago had summoned her like this. Granted, usually she was just a room away and he could send a servant or come himself when she was needed. Being barred from bringing anyone likely meant it was de Riva business. No eyes meant no watchers, no one waiting, no one knowing. Did he have a lead on the traitors? Were they within her own House or was this a precaution because the Diamond was compromised? Given the state of Treviso and the country at large, the chance of it being a large contract felt slim. She was already on a job, anyways, he wouldn’t burden her with a second like that.

A heavy sigh slipped free and she chewed her lip. Telling no one she was leaving felt like a terrible idea. What if the gods made a move while she was gone? If the group needed the lyrium dagger and she wasn’t there… She ran a hand through her hair almost frantically, squeezing her eyes shut as she warred with herself. She could tell Lucanis, he was a Crow, he would keep the secret. He would respect the rules. But she had already broken the rules once for him and doing it a second time caused an ugly feeling to curl in her stomach, all sharp edges and claws. She had kept quiet about Spite out of shared sympathy. This was House business and he wasn’t a de Riva. Her hand snatched a sheet of paper she kept for letters, penning a quick note.

Personal errand, will be back soon! Keep this safe in the meantime.

-R

Vague enough, left out on her table in the open, and with the ringed hilt of the lyrium dagger left atop meant it was impossible to miss. She hoped. By the time they started looking for her, she’d be back, surely. Now she just had to sneak into the Eluvian room and make it to Treviso without incident. About a fifty-fifty chance on the Crossroads having hulking brutes rampaging through the market when she passed through. The Maker had gifted her quite the lucky streak, afterall. She changed into her usual leathers, unease settling over her like a second skin. She hadn’t really been out alone in a long time. After Viago had sent her away, she always had Varric or Harding. Then it was always some variation of company from the ragtag team she had assembled. It almost felt wrong not having someone following along behind her.

Shaking herself once, she crept silently from her chambers. No one was lingering on the balcony for a blessing, but she forwent the stairs, opting instead to lower herself directly from the upper platform to the steps below. There was a quiet scuff as she landed and she held her breath, ears straining. If someone had been in the main room, they could have heard it. Pressed into the shadows and taking quick steps, she didn’t wait to see if someone was coming to investigate. The Eluvian room felt emptier, more intimidating alone. A tall monolith looming over her. She swallowed that fear and passed through. It was a quiet walk to the Treviso mirror, the Caretaker not making a comment on her lack of escort. It made her wonder if Solas wandered off like this, too, during the rebellion. It had her stomach doing a sickening flip.

She pulled her hood low to her eyes as she passed through the mirror, just another Crow in the gathered masses at the Diamond. Taking to the rooftops, she arrived at the de Riva apartments shortly after her feet touched Trevisan brickwork. The window to Viago’s office was ajar, inviting, and that made her frown. It was meant for her, that much was obvious based on the letter, but that unease lingered. Dark curtains were drawn over the egress, sending up a cloud of dust as she swung inside. Muffled coughs announced her presence to the Talon long before she stepped in front of his desk. His eyes were fixed on bundles of what she assumed were contracts, neat piles of information and receipts organized on the tabletop. He didn’t look up.

“Clumsy entrance.”

She half shrugged. “Haven’t had to sneak through a window in a while.”

A disapproving scoff was her only answer before he waved a hand towards the window. “Close it.”

Mutely she obeyed, a finality to the action as the wood thudded into place.

“Have you been keeping up with your daily doses?” He shuffled the page he had been reading to the back of the pile in front of him.

“Uh,”  she started awkwardly, blindsided by the direction of the conversation, “more or less. Some concoctions are hard to find while on the move like I was. I’ve had to take smaller doses of the rarer brews since returning. But… you didn’t have me come here in pure secrecy to ask about my poison habits, right?” A weak half smile jumped to her lips.

“A simple wonder.” He placed a palm flat over the stack of papers he had been reading, finally looking up. “One of many. Mirenna, am I a mark to you?”

The question had been uttered with a frigid edge that had every alarm bell in her mind screeching. It was the sharp danger she remembered from their early days together, the voice he had used in their training when she was too weak to pass a test. It was a knife to the heart and she felt a cold sweat coming on.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t play coy with me, child.” His voice was a whip, stealing her breath.

She swallowed thickly. “Vi, I really don’t know…” She felt lightheaded, hand clenching and unclenching next to her mageknife. Her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard she felt it would leave bruises.

He rose to his feet with a serpentine grace, slow and fluid. Dangerous. “Lucanis Dellamorte.” She felt ice in her veins as he took measured steps around the desk. “Imprisoned for a year by Zara Renata, known blood mage and Venatori leader. The Ossuary was her personal laboratory. Notes and remains recovered speak of experiments to foster demonic possessions to create more powerful abominations.” He circled her slowly, coming to a stop mere inches from her face. “But you knew that already.”

Not a question, stating the obvious. Her knees felt weak. “I…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted to be sure first. After my last job, I didn’t want to waste your time-”

“No.” He cut her off sharply, his voice quivering with rage. “You wanted to protect him. Be it because you fancied him, felt sorry for him, or have proper malice for this House, I don’t know. But you lied to me, Mirenna. To me.”

If she hadn’t spent most of her life learning to fight by his hand, been taught each strike and cut of a knife under his instruction, she wouldn’t have been fast enough to deflect his blade. She had to catch his offhand with her own hand, flesh meeting blade. He hadn’t given her enough time to summon her orb. Her backstep was cut short, years of training her giving him every tell and shortcoming she had as he hooked a leg behind hers and pulled. She tried to turn the fall, to twist in the air, but he snatched the front of her leathers in a fist, pushing her forcefully into the floor. He had a knife to her throat, knee pinning her chest, and his face a cold mask of indifference. She whimpered.

“Was this a solitary betrayal or have you been working against the House this entire time?” The words were calculated, all emotion drained from them.

A wheezing breath slipped free. “Viago, I didn’t mean-”

“Are you working alone against this House?” The knife bit deep enough to draw blood.

She could feel tears stinging her eyes, her heart breaking. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, wavering. “I am not a traitor.”

There was no warning of the strike. The dagger was pressed to her neck one second and then buried deep in her shoulder in the next. Her training allowed only a quiet choking noise in place of a scream, the pain white hot and blinding. Unbidden, her body reached for the Fade in self defense. She wanted to shout a warning to him as the familiar connection was made, unable to stop the electric swell of her magic, but there was an agonizing twist in her lungs instead. The magic was a screaming fury in her veins, molten fire replacing her blood. He almost had a look of pity in his eyes as she writhed.

“A clean entrance would have spared you that torture.” For a moment, he was simply her teacher again, no malice or disappointment in the words. Simple fact to teach a lesson.

She wanted to laugh. That hadn’t been dust. Viago would never have his home be that unkempt, she should have known better. Instead a choking wheeze slipped free, a smile that was more bared teeth than mirth on her lips. It all hurt.

“Did Dellamorte put you up to this?” He slipped so easily back into interrogating her.

“No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears slipping free, “I was scared.”

The pressure on her shoulder lightened slightly. “That’s not enough, Mirenna.”

She struggled for a moment to pull in enough air to speak. He simply waited. “Wouldn’t have been fair.” Shallow breaths wheezed out the words. “His secret.”

“Is your loyalty to House Dellamorte or House de Riva?” He was leaning on the dagger once more and this time it dragged a low keening from her.

“To you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Still not enough.”

“Didn’t want to tell you.” Her teeth were grit as if she could cage the confession behind them. “Solas used blood magic. He’s in my dreams. Felt too similar.”

Through the haze of agony, she caught the brief flash of horror across his face. His weight disappeared and she pulled in a shivering breath. It left her in a painful fit of coughing, but she didn’t move otherwise. He paced twice from her to the desk and back. A manic energy seemed to hum in his veins. Distantly she could hear the sound of crumpling paper as he clawed hands onto the desk.

“I’m taking you off the contract.”

“Too late, Vi.” She was trying to smile again, a twisted facsimile. “No one else can do this. Too deep.”

“I am your Talon.” Swift and sharp, like a crack of thunder. “You work the contracts I say. You walk away when I say.”

Her head lolled slightly to the side. “Can’t put Solas in anyone else’s mind. That’s beyond you. Crossroads won’t know your next agent. Team won’t trust them. You’d doom the world.”

Something crashed to the floor, glass breaking. “Damn it, Renn, I sent you away to keep you out of trouble.”

“Trouble finds me.” She whispered.

A long silence stretched between them, the only sound her labored breaths. Faintly she could hear a drawer being opened, bottles being shuffled as he rummaged inside it. When he loomed over her suddenly she tried to smile. He dumped a vial into her mouth as her reward. Part of her wondered if he was simply done with her, the final draught he would gift. She swallowed it anyway. He was gone in the next breath and she simply laid on the floor waiting to see if death came to visit. The agony in her veins slowly burned away, leaving her with the throb of the knife in her shoulder. Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her leg felt bruised from his strike, throat stinging from the knife, shoulder agony, body aching from the poison, hand screaming. But she was alive.

He was sitting at his desk again, his head resting in one hand as he poured over his paperwork. “Get out.”

She lingered on the floor, letting the pain settle into her bones, until he looked up just enough for her to see his eyes. They were sharp, furious, but in the depths, buried deep, there was guilt. He blamed himself for giving her the job, didn’t he? Her laugh was a wheezing bark, tears streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them. It was never supposed to be this messy, but wasn’t that the story of all her jobs? Swaying to her feet, she dragged herself to his desk. Wrapping a hand around the hilt of his dagger, she pulled it out steadily and deposited it on the nearest stack of papers. Ruby red blood spread like greedy fire across the parchment. With a half bow, she saw herself out through the door.

A trail of blood followed her through the apartments and out into the streets. There was a ground entrance she could use in the Diamond, a long climb along stairs back to the mirror, but it would be easier than the ziplines and trellises. She was maybe halfway back when a familiar shadow dropped from the rooftops next to her. She gave him a bright smile as he pulled his hood down.

“Oh, I think I know you.” She swayed on her feet as Lucanis braced her with a hand on her good shoulder.

“Rook, what happened? We’ve been tearing the Lighthouse apart trying to find you.” His concern was almost absent as he pulled at her leathers to examine her wound. He sucked air through his teeth. “Mierda, that’s deep.”

“Hmm, Viago doesn’t hold back.” She could feel a sob trying to claw up her throat. “He found out I lied.”

His face fell into a grim understanding. He ducked under her good arm, wrapping the other around her waist. “Let’s get you home.”

A wheezing laugh shook her shoulders as she leaned heavily against him. “I’d settle for the Lighthouse instead, I think.”

[bloomfish]

It's so weird that in angel s5e2 they do a little flashback to Spike's blaze of glory moment in the last episode of Buffy... but they leave out Buffy saying "I love you". It's such a blatant omission, the ONLY omission from that scene, that it feels totally deliberate and kind of dishonest. Considering a lot of the Spike and Angel moments in S5 revolve around their jealousy and rivalry towards each other, and a LOT of that is to do with Buffy like... Why would you leave it out? It's a pretty big moment for Spike's character in general.

As far as I recall they don't even mention it, they just mention the fact that Spike and Buffy have had a lot of sex compared to bangel's ONE disastrous time (that they remember) but it does kind of cheapen it for Spike. A big motivation for him not leaving LA could have been him not wanting to hold Buffy to her words, since he clearly doesn't believe that she loves him (even though she does, as per Whedon). He presumably thinks she only said that to make him feel better in his final moments, because she wouldn't have to actually follow through on her words. Which is sad. But it makes much more sense as a motivation than the weird 'it cheapens my moment of glory' excuse like since when does spike give a shit about that

[eatanorange]

Can I share a fear rq? can I share a fear with y'all? Can I tell you what I witness and what it manifests in to? Will it manifest the entity looming in the darkest parts of my head? Will you blame me for going insane or will you find some sort of sick, disorienting beauty in my destruction, in my fusing with said entity? Will I still be alone then? Will I be known, then? Will it sicken you to see how full of love I am and how colored by distrust it is? Will you look away when the hand you reach for turns to a blade and cuts yours off, or will you pull back too? Did you already have that prosthetic, there? Is that what you call self preservation?

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Reading an article on how no one truly knows how to read a book front to back anymore is making me so terrified I literally don’t gaf if I’m a biochem major it’s looking more and more every day like I’m going for that literature master’s degree for no reason other than to feel something

[blackbackedjackal]

As a Gévaudan Lycan, June’s design is supposed to give off an unknowable and melancholy energy.

Gévaudan Lycans are mimics, and their emotions alter their form, especially if they have little to no control of themselves when they shift.

The way June was changed into a lycan and her experience during first shift were extremely traumatic, and over time, her lycan form reflected her feelings of loss and self-loathing. She fronts as this charming and confident woman, while holding back her deeper emotions that eventually leached into the form that reflects her true self.

Fear, sadness, loss, and rage all mixed into this one entity she cannot control. Once a month, she's forced into facing all of those emotions, reliving that trauma again and again for nearly 30 years.

[mothoscope]

More furry bnbh bullcrap

[vaguely-concerned]

if everything with varric weren't enough to make rye go the level of ape shit at solas that he does (and goodness don't get me wrong it was more than enough!), forcing him to sit alone with himself in the fade and wonder if he really just saw lucanis die right in front of him with no way to know for sure added kill bill sirens in his head so loud the voice of the Maker Himself could not be heard over them if He personally peeped through the blanket of the dark to cry 'hold, hold'

(That no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it. indeed. maybe you should have thought a bit harder before making me quite so much in your own image. bitch)

[foegoal]

i really want to stay at rogers place || a love letter to the 2023/2024 season.

[witchspeka]

It's always "Shou and Ritsu need to blow stuff up with their minds for mental health reasons" or Ritsu and Teru or even Shou and Teru!

But what about Mob? When does he get to blow stuff up with his mind for funsies? For shits and giggles? He didn't go through all of those meltdowns and character development for nothing, let him go ham on a junkyard car or something smh

I believe in Mob's narrative given right to fuck shit up sometimes