#like in a literal physical sense all the horrors of the world might have more info than my brain's bandwidth on a physiological level

[medicinemane]

I don't know... what's happening in Ukraine is honestly just so deeply depressing (I mean, could it be anything else?)

I'm not really someone who cries, just not something that tends to happen even when I feel like it... and a lot of the time I read the news coming out of Ukraine (out of the world, but I follow Ukraine more closely) and... I'm just kinda numb

More innocent people dead, another hospital hit, another apartment hit, more dead, more dead, more dead... and I realize I can't even process it

Then you get nights like tonight where it clicks just what it means and it leaves me feeling like I want to cry, if I did cry I think I would

I don't think I have words for how stupid and sick it all is

And you know, I am war fatigued when it comes to Ukraine, but what that means for me is that I don't follow the front lines anymore because I just can't keep up with fighting for meters of ground, day after day, this endless slow churn... so I keep up with the big picture instead

(Whose fault do you think the slow advances for Ukraine are? Cause I'll tell you it's the western allies failing to deliver proper amounts of equipment soon enough)

The big picture is horrible, not in a Ukraine is losing kind of way, but in the sheer fucking needless death of random people just sitting at home when a drone hits and kills them

(And that's not even touching on Avdiivka where thousands of russian soldiers are going into the meat grinder, which I can think about and realize is a colossal loss of human life... but I can't even spare much sympathy or humanity towards attacking soldiers when Ukrainian civilians are dying)

And I mean, I'm half a world away. My home's not gonna get shelled ever, the only people I know in danger are people I've bumped into on here. I'm not the one suffering, hearing the sirens, losing people I care about

But it's just... you know, it's just basic human decency to think this is wrong. It could end in an instant if russia just left, but instead... I don't know if a single day has gone by where I haven't seen new news about 3 dead, 9 dead, 50 dead cause a missile hit a funeral, kid dead, family dead when a drone hit their apartment

...I think some people might say I need a break, but you'd be missing the point. I really don't, like most days I'm just numb and keeping informed, but some days it hits me and I wouldn't want to never be hit again with feeling a fraction of just how horrible this really is

The nights when it stops being numbers of senseless murders and it really hits home that each and everyone one of those people was a real person just living their life and now they're gone

...I don't think I'd get through my day if I could process that fact every second of every day, but I wouldn't have any humanity if I didn't sit with that fact some of the time. If this didn't hurt to understand when I really sit with it, something would be deeply wrong

I don't have words for it

Everyday I hope for a miracle, every day I get ready to support Ukraine for as long as it takes, till every inch territory is returned (and beyond, I like Ukraine, no reason not to support them in peace as well)

[asterdisaster06]

Rottweiler's Callsign Story

platonic 141 x reader

summary > The mission was supposed to be an easy in and out stealth operation; however, you getting cornered by enemy guards that weren't drawn out by the team's distraction left you to desperation. Such circumstances resulting in unsavory acts needed to get out alive and back to your team. Half the blood on you might not even be yours, but you're out alive and safe.

word count > 5.6k

warnings > graphic description of blood and violence, like i'm not kidding. medical terms used to describe some of the gore. reader is described like a feral dog.

ao3

You had always been quite animalistic in your ways, vocal on the battlefield with snarls and hisses escaping your lips through the sheer effort of your tyranny. Grunts and growls being a point made to enemies you faced before absolutely thrashing them to death. Your skills with a gun whether a handgun or an assault rifle were top tier, your training made sure of it, but your real talent laid in hand to hand combat. Specializing in utilizing your own body and surroundings to tear your enemy down. It was something that had confused and yet impressed your teammates on the taskforce. They stared at you with something akin to visceral horror and pure adoration when you save their asses more than they can count. 

Whether that comes from tackling the one on top and pinning them by their throat or managing to spot an enemy that they had missed on their six. Either way, any way, they were significantly impressed by you and your prowess. Your expertise offered something new to the group. Your bones held your pride that was either to be completely snapped or remain unwounded. Your muscles flexed to show the pride that was your mortal self. Your teeth were bared to the world like a stray dog. And in a sense, that was what you were.

You were found by Laswell and Price with your fur matted and your teeth too sharp from eating trash-thrown bones. Metaphorically of course. Literally though, they were your saviors. She took you off the previous military base you would’ve died on and Price raised you like his own flesh and blood. He took the limping, ugly mutt and showed a kindness you had always heard directed at others but never you. You learned to not bite at the hand that feeds you. 

The others came later once you were settled in - learning very little of your past; only knowing what you had seethed through tight lipped smiles. At that point you were known simply as ‘hound’ to them. You’re not entirely sure how or when it came about, but it seemed to fit you for the moment. 

You weren’t exactly talkative, similar to Ghost in that aspect. That’s not to say that you didn’t learn to open up and trust, especially when you were on a mission that required trust and teamwork. Collaboration and communication were the foundation for the taskforce, and it wasn’t something you could opt out of. You mostly sat back and smiled at a few of the jokes shared, but the one time you spoke to add onto the dark humor from Simon scared the shit out of them. Even Simon was a little caught off guard despite his vehement denial. It was the start of the blossoming friendship between you and the team. 

This particular mission was no different than the others. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, the world had different plans in mind for you and the boys. 

Soap had been talking your ear off and you listened in with a small smile on your face at his antics. It was amusing to you that he wasn’t put off by your scars, both physical and mental. He looked past them, not quite ignoring them but not pushing for you to spill the story behind them all if you weren’t ready. You were forever grateful for that. Gaz was in a similar vein, learning to eventually see you for who you were. Sometimes he poked and prodded you, but only in the intentions of helping you. Especially when you refused to see a therapist. Not after the last incident.

Ghost respected you at face value. The mask was who you were to him, and it didn’t make a difference in the slightest for your identity. It was a refreshing contrast to the other two who were not exactly openly prying, but their curiosity emitted from them like radiation. And you didn’t need a geiger counter to see that being near them would eventually unravel your DNA containing your secrets. Ghost simply left your skeletons in the closet lie. A needed deviation in your life. 

This mission required you to sneak into the compound in order to collect intel about nuclear weapons that a recent terrorist group had gotten their hands on. Obviously, that was a paramount issue that Shepherd had wanted the taskforce to take care of. Your boys would be creating a distraction away from your position, eventually creating a path to your location for a safe exfil after they had planted bombs around the compound. This establishment wasn’t going to be left standing after you guys were done with it if you could help it. 

“Is everyone clear on their positions?” Price’s voice breaks through the disassociation your mind had thrust you into. 

The ringing in your ears faded as the chatter began to quiet down and focus was injected into your veins. There was a small nagging feeling in the back of your mind, but you brushed it off as simple leftovers of anxiety growing mold in the fridge of your consciousness. You responded with a simple affirm alongside the rest of the team, eyes beginning to lose the dazed look within the cornea. You blink once and then twice as you take in your surroundings and run your tongue over your sharpened canines. 

Your muscles tense with anticipation, letting your legs carry you out of the truck that was about one klick from the objective. You were to be going on foot from here to avoid raising suspicion. The treeline would offer some cover for the infiltration attempt, the leaves in full swing. Unfortunately that also meant so were the bugs and thorns. You would just have to deal with it, although Soap wasn’t so easily placated.

“Fucking hell,” Soap exclaims, swatting at a very vague buzz that was swarming him.

“Here,” Gaz says, throwing Soap a can of bug spray. 

The droning and whirl of wings belonging to insects that lived long before humanity came about offers you a weird amount of comfort. It’s almost a commiseration of sorts between the creatures that nobody wanted around. You and the acarids. Nonetheless, you cover yourself in a self assumed shield of the spray that sticks to your skin in a way that makes you almost uncomfortable. The thorns and sticks pricking you through your tactical gear brings you relief. The opposite from what you presumed the others were experiencing.

It’s not like you were a masochist, peace and comfort have just never quite been something you’ve gotten used to. It’s what you’ve known most of your life and it’s what you’ll continuously go through. Much to the chagrin of your boys.

Speaking of, they appeared to be having varying levels of reaction to the harsh woodland environment. Soap has been openly complaining, although you knew it was mostly to break up the monotony of the trip alongside easing the anxiety of the others. He knew just how to utilize his personality like that and he wasn’t scared to come off as brash or even semi-annoying. You try to humor him enough to keep that spark going in his soul. That’s honestly a thought that keeps you up at night; Soap becoming like you or Ghost.

Gaz was experiencing his classic bad luck; truly trying to avoid any muddy spots or tripping on an exposed root, but it appears that it wasn’t working out for him. He had tripped over his own feet two times, an exposed root five, and almost twisted his ankle thrice. It was almost as if the woods had it out for him. You wince and make that last thing four times now as Gaz tripped over a small pebble and had to execute an almost ballerina-esque move to avoid falling face first into a puddle. It made you huff out a laugh, earning you a middle finger in your direction. Gaz truly does try his hardest in everything he does, placing expectations upon himself that nobody else even thinks of. Pressure mounting upon him that moves you to make sure he takes care of himself. You’ll be damned if you let him drown himself in the same way you do. 

Ghost was similar to your apathy, although you could tell from his body language that he was in as much discomfort as Soap was expressing. He refused to let even a slip of a grunt or groan escape from his sealed lips. His combat boots were sinking into the mud as much as Gaz, but he had significantly more coordination and confidence in his steps than Kyle did. You observed him quietly, seeing thorns stick into his skin - likely releasing the red ichor of his mortal body. Nonetheless, he braved on with only a slight wince betraying his emotions. It reminded you of how he faces his own torment and demons with nothing showing to anyone around. Not unless they’re particularly attuned to him and his distinctive micro-expressions. You know this as well as anyone, so you make a conscious effort to try and get Simon to open up to you. Not a lot, and sometimes not at all, but enough to sand down the roughness around his edges. Enough to heal him one scar at a time. 

Price was admonishing Soap for being so loud and semi-obnoxious. All in good fun, at least, at the distance you were away from the location. Given that Price was back at the car, you couldn’t exactly see what he was doing or his own personal quirks. However, you had known him long enough to know his personality and behavior. You had spent a good chunk of time analyzing the man that had offered you not only a position on this team, but a hand to help you up from your back-alley way of living. He was a tired man that needed some positive affirmation in his life if you were being honest. He had this entire team on his back alongside his position that designated him to a life chained to his work. His title delegated him to the duress that came with everyone expecting victory from you. It’s probability is down right improbable for him to always come out on top. Although, you doubt that he’s come to terms with that idea. You try your best to offer support in your own way, realizing that words alone aren’t going to cut it. You try to guide him to sleep if he’s too caught up in paperwork or offer him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it if an all-nighter is inevitable. You want to be there for him like he is for you. 

Laswell’s voice cuts through the comms and snaps you from your stupor. Kate Laswell. She offered you kindness while others offered you chains. She let you into her life instead of caging you like a feral animal. She took the muzzle off of your maw and let you speak. She presented you with a purpose outside of being a killing machine for your previous team sent in with no regard for your health or happiness. She gave you a life. One of your own. A team that you could rely on with a street of protection that goes both ways. Possibilities were opened up that you had never dared to dream of beforehand. You owed her your life, and that’s what you fought with on every mission. 

“You’re closing in on the base. Can we get a general overview of how it’s going?”

You smiled and shook your head before the Scot even opened his mouth.

“How’s it going? Oh wonderful, absolutely joyous,” Soap spoke with mock annoyance, good-natured humor shining through despite his tone.

“All is well, the intel we were given appears to be good. There should be no difficulties from our view over here,” Ghost answers, genuinely. 

“Affirm, I’m all set and ready here, Kate,” Price speaks, his commanding timbre sending rumbles down your spine and through your nervous system. 

“Remember, get in and get out, don’t get caught up in the blast,” Kate reminds you all, as if you could forget. 

A chorus of proclaimed agreements echoes throughout the trees of the forest. The silence that falls over the group afterwards makes you tense up and get into the mindset of the feral mutt that has kept you alive for this long. Your breath ends up heavy, saliva coating the inside of your jaws as you harshly swallow it down - almost choking every time you do. Your shoulders rise and fall in time with your respiration. Ghost checks in with the group one last time before you’re sent off first into the craw of the compound. Being a sacrifice is nothing new to you, but it still causes you to shudder in anticipation. Goosebumps rise all across your skin despite the temperature dictating otherwise. 

You wander forward, joints creaking in protest as you sneak around the side of the building. It’s inevitable that you have to utilize your knife, but you use it sparingly - not wanting the alarms to ring because some unfortunate soul stumbles upon the body of their fallen comrade. It’s almost second nature to you at this point and you would’ve zoned off if it wasn’t for the pure adrenaline rushing through your system.  You finally reach point A in which you reaffirm with the rest of the boys that the plan is a go and no complications have arised. 

You hear a plethora of acknowledgements before you begin to move forward with the permission of Ghost and Price. You snake cam the door before lock picking it after deeming it safe. There didn’t appear to be any enemies nearby much to your satisfaction. The less possibilities for this plan to go wrong, the better. It’s a waiting game as you come upon the stairwell door leading up to the room you were meant to infiltrate. The clock ticks down, the beats of your heart sounding out in your ears as a unit of measurement. 

Boom.

It’s the signal for you to proceed as all of the cameras are abandoned with the clicking of the gun trigger replacing the clack of keys in the office. You were all set up and ready to acquire the real reason your mission was handed out. Pushing past into the stairwell, you’re met with the surprise of an elbow to the face, effectively causing a gush of blood to start trickling down your face. Despite the advantage the enemy had from his effort of concealment working to catch you off guard, you gained your balance back quickly, and the pounding of your head did nothing to quell the vexation that led you to putting a knife in the guy’s eye. You shoot a bullet straight into his cranium with a glare, just to cover your tracks. 

You lick your chapped lips, tasting the metallic mouthful you had gotten from your little scuffle. You didn’t hear a crack, but it was definitely going to be a pain in the ass the next day. Nonetheless, you pushed on, aiming to be more aware of your surroundings. There was an odd lack of guards around the area for what seemed like the main structure. It set off warning bells in your head, but there was no turning back now. From the gunfire sounding out from below it seemed that the others would be too caught up to engage in a verbal conversation regarding your worries. Not like you weren’t confident in your own abilities, quite the opposite, but Price had managed to drill into your head that not everything had to be faced alone. Jokes on him, this situation had the appearance of it being a one man operation. 

You and your blood soaked sleeves made your way to the computer where you gathered yourself into a semi-coherent being in order to upload data from their system. The hard part was already done for you; all you had to do was plug a hard drive into a computer and wait. And that you did. You almost felt sorry for getting their keyboard all slick with your carnage escaping from your sinuses. It also felt as if you had bitten your tongue during the altercation, your mouth being yet another outlet for the liquid escaping you. You spat on the floor, maroon saliva staining it. 

Running down your neck, the blood seemed to stop at that point, trickling off into a simple seeping of gore. You consider yourself lucky, just in time for the information to be uploaded onto the hard drive you were given. You report over to Price and Laswell, a slight lisp imbued into your words due to the tip of your tongue suffering from puncture wounds your teeth had embedded into the soft muscle. They understood you perfectly fine however, and you were instructed to continue with the orders you were given. At that moment however, the lack of communication on your part about your suspicions of an ambush was coming back to bite you in the ass. Almost literally. 

A gloved hand smothers your mouth, effectively suffocating you. If the arm around your throat and its connected hand stifling your ability to productively breath wasn’t enough, there was now a knife lodged in your side. Your attacker drove the knife you suspected he took from your gear even further into your abdomen, twisting it like he was wringing out the last of his laundry. Except you were the clothes and your blood was escaping you, much to your chagrin. Fortunately for you, this particular guard was practically brain dead when it came to medical knowledge, so you were pretty confident that you were going to live. That is, if you could escape without being asphyxiated to death. 

You maneuver your maw into an opportune striking position, opening your jaws like a dog being thrown a bone. The coincidental nature of that thought would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t currently on the verge of being slaughtered and gutted like a pig. You chomp down and dig your teeth into the metacarpals of his skeleton, relishing in his grunt of pain and attempt to recoil. You were like a dog with a bone though, and you’d be damned if anyone tried to take it from you. His attempt to pry your jaws open with the hand that soon abandoned the knife in your side after the puncturing of his palm. You ground your teeth into the fat of his hand before realizing the glove was going to be an issue. You turn your teeths’ attention to his exposed wrist, aiming for his radial artery. Unfortunately for him, your fangs found their intended target and perforated his skin. You threw your head back, grasping his arm with your other hands - clawing at it like a feral beast. 

You effectively were one, your mouth full of flesh and muscle that didn’t belong to you. Although, you suppose that one could argue it didn’t belong to him either. Not anymore. You spat out the pulp of tissue, realizing that he had let you go. You put a bullet right through his eyes, spraying blood and brain matter across the room. Well deserved for someone like him. You drive your boot into his lifeless corpse, really kicking the man while he was down. Your joke, although knowing nobody alive was around to hear it, made a hysterical laugh claw its way out of your throat. Your larynx had really betrayed your deranged and volatile behavior. Your manic nature had kept you alive so far, so you supposed you had only yourself to thank. 

You shoved your bloodied tongue around your mouth, hoping to wash out the taste of human flesh. It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve tasted - that goes to Ghost’s attempts at cooking - but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. You wiped your mouth against the back of your hand, quickly realizing that it too was bloody. Red wasn’t really your color right now, otherwise you would have appreciated the look. You quickly checked over your supplies, knowing that you could make due with anything around the room or at the very least your hands, but feeling comfort in the weight of the metal contraption that delivered death at a much quicker rate. Hemorrhaging from either a knife or a gun was much more effective than your bare hands. Or teeth. 

It appears that your enemies didn’t appreciate your sentiment though, ambushing you only to take away such things from your grasp. There were two this time. They almost reminded you of Soap and Ghost, if those two were actively trying to kill you. Your boys only sometimes did that, and most of the time it was pitiful attempts. You were actually the one that got quite a few new rules implemented during training - but seriously, who stops in the middle of a fight to ask if something is legal? No-one, which is exactly why you simply did what was necessary to survive, to quote verbatim what you had said to Price as your excuse when Soap had ended up in the med bay. 

Be that as it may, these guards weren’t who you thought them akin to. Therefore, everything was on the table. Especially since they had made the grave error of giving your standard weapons a place on the backburner. Now, the only thought in your mind was kill. At all costs necessary. Your sharpened canines glinted in the dim lighting with a scarlet staining the pearly white as your mouth opened. It’s unfortunate for them that they didn’t have a muzzle on hand. 

Before the one in front of you had an opportunity to shoot you through any vital organ, you used your body weight to shove the one holding you to the ground - the bullet whizzing above you. A guttural growl escaped your throat as you turned your attention to escaping the grasp of the poor soul restraining your body. You grasp his upper arm, twisting yourself to use his body as a human shield. It would’ve made you gag if this was the first time you’ve done this. Regrettably, you have quite a bit of experience in this particular experience. 

The bullets pierced the soon to be corpse of his comrade, narrowly avoiding you except for one that grazed your side. You really were losing a lot of blood today. Making your way to safety was your biggest priority; however, that was proving difficult with leftover guards that were actually doing their job semi-well. You untucked yourself from under the weight of the stiff remains and threw yourself at the unlucky fellow who had just run out of ammo in his weapon. A simple click is all you heard as the gun escaped his grasp in favor of his bare hands. You were thrown into a chokehold yet again. These guys really did like their chokeholds. His hand gripped the knife slick with your own blood from your hands and ripped it out, leaving you to bleed to death. His mistake though was only using one hand to contain your rage filled body made of torn flesh and bones. 

You tore yourself from his grasp, with the worst luck in all of history happening with the knife getting knocked down the stairwell - sounding like a fork being dropped in the sink on its way down. You were in no condition to run or even jump after it, and the only other weapon was out of ammo, so it seemed you were yet again stuck using your bare hands. They trembled as you gathered yourself, preparing yourself for what you were being forced to do in order to escape this ordeal alive. You settled your weight into your haunches and launched yourself at the enemy, vision bloodshot and tinted red. An animalistic growl escaped yourself, sounding almost like a hyena’s maniacal laugh. Your lunge proved fruitful as your claws came into contact with his facial features, digging into his eyes to blind him. The texture of the soft tissue under your sharpened nails flexed and then ruptured. The front layers of his cornea gave way to the gooey gel similar to egg whites that filled the orbs. 

A visceral scream escaped the man below you, causing Price to finally check in over comms. At least, you think so, it was getting hard to hear with the ringing in your ears. You didn’t respond either way.

You knew that even blind, the man was still a liability. Or maybe he wasn’t, but to your addled brain firing neuron after neuron that drove you with the only thoughts occupying you being: survive and kill; well, the feral nature of yourself pushed you to make sure he was dead. You had your training to thank for that. You knew that the rest of his body was protected by the structure of his epidermis, much to your dissatisfaction. Your thoughts wandered back to the first enemy you encountered as you loomed over the blinded man. Your mind was made up.

In a split second decision, you descended your fangs into his throat, sinking your teeth into his trachea and hearing a sickening squelch of his bare flesh. The muscles gave way as you shook your head like a rabid dog, separating his tissue from their home within his body. You didn’t stop until you felt his carotid artery begin to hemorrhage. You shakily stand up, staring at the massacre you had left behind. Your jaw would definitely be sore the next day. There wasn’t a surface of you that wasn’t absolutely drenched in blood, and you couldn’t tell where yours began and theirs ended. The corpse beneath you had stopped screaming after the first puncture of your teeth - at least, you’re pretty sure. The haze surrounding your mind made thinking about it too hard. It almost fills you with a sense of regret at letting the monster you once were out of their muzzle yet again. The halfway decapitated body was left as you limped down the stairs and out a back door. 

You shambled out into the woods, faltering only twice to prevent yourself from tripping since you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to get up again after that. The rush of blood in your head faded as the sounds around you finally cascaded back into reality. You swore you could feel the dripping of blood spurting out of all open wounds in time with your heart. The chaos finally sunk in, the screaming over comms for your response demanding your attention.

“I’m,” You break up your sentence with a cough. “I’m fine,” Your voice sounds crackly and hoarse. Not that you’re surprised.

“Where the fuck are you, you were supposed to be out of there five minutes ago,” Price yells out over the radio. 

“I don’t exactly know. Somewhere out in the woods?” You respond, your head pounding.

“Ghost, find them!” Price had apparently discerned that you were in no condition to be taking in your surroundings accurately enough to ascertain an accurate location. 

“Fuck, I think I see them. Hound!”

You think you hear a faint yelling of your name, although it doesn’t quite register to your unhinged and disoriented brain. All you could tell through the muddy fog of your mind was a person. Enemy. Kill. Survive. Escape. You felt their hands on you, your throat closing up in response as you preemptively expected to be strangled half to death. You let out a snarl, baring your teeth and coming into contact with what you think is a hand. Either way, it doesn’t matter to you and you bite down with the force of a wild animal. A yelp is heard, only cementing your actions in your mind. 

“Calm the fuck down Sergeant.”

A voice cuts through the haze like a hot knife through butter. You fall limp in the grasp; whether it’s because you recognize the voice or you simply are accepting your fate is up in the air. Nonetheless, your surroundings begin to load in, your eyes stopping their constant darting around and focusing on a singular face. Or, faces. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz. They had found you. You were safe. You notice Soap has a bleeding hand - your own handiwork without a doubt. Guilt floods you, your behavior similar to a puppy hearing the words ‘bad dog’ for the first time in their life. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. You did great, Hound,” Soap begins to say. 

“Come back to us, Love,” Gaz whispers, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” You cry out, finally feeling the effects of your pure exhaustion. 

“I don’t blame you, Jesus, you’re gonna have a hell of a story to tell us when you get all patched up again, Hound,” Soap exclaims.

“How much of this blood is yours?” Ghost finally cuts in.

“Not a lot, just where the knife was and I might’ve gotten shot.”

“Might’ve?” Soap laughs.

“Mission, guys,” Price finally interrupts. “I’m glad you’re safe, Hound.”

The mission continues, you leaning on Soap since you’re pretty sure stumbling down the stairs strained one of your ankles. You spewed out numerous apologies for his hand, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. The go ahead for the air team with Laswell to level the building was given, and the exfil point was finally reached by your ground group. At that point, you were barely conscious, hearing echoes of pet names assuring you only a little longer and to stay with them. They plagued the darkness that overtook you and greeted you as you woke up to the blinding light of the medical room. 

“Welcome back to the world of living,” Soap says. “The doctors hadn’t seen anything like you before,” He laughs. 

“Do you want to explain why they found human tissue in your mouth?” Ghost asks, his tone inquisitive.

“Shit man, let them have a bit of a break before we interrogate them,” Gaz chuckles, offering you some water, much to your appreciation. 

You gulp down the water like it was the last time you would ever get the precious liquid, your body thanking you. You sheepishly hand the empty cup back to an amused Gaz. You clear your throat, not quite ready to delve into the specifics of what you had to do to survive, but knowing you had to. Being open in communication was a non-arguable point to being a part of the taskforce. 

“Most of the blood on me when you found me was probably belonging to the man I might’ve,” You pause, “ripped the throat out of?” You rush that last part out as quickly as you could, knowing that despite your efforts, they’re going to question you.

Both Soap and Gaz’s eyes widened almost comically, both quickly exclaiming different curse words. One being Scottish curses that you could barely make out from his accent. The other being aggressively British expletives spilling out of Gaz’s mouth. Ghost simply looked upon you with what seemed to be both admiration and affirmation. You had known he would be the most likely to not be surprised at your actions. He knew what it was like to have an untamed beast within you. 

“What in the bloody hell did you say?” Price was apparently looming in the doorway, keeping himself hidden until this moment.

You cough, and ask “Is now a good time to mention I also might’ve done the same to a man’s hand?”

Soap had a horrified look upon his face. “You’re saying I could’ve lost my precious hand?”

You had almost forgotten about Soap’s injury, and stared at him with a semblance of guilt flashing across your face. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say quietly. 

“What happened to the good ole knife or bullet?” Soap asked, offering you his bandaged hand to hold in an offer of forgiveness and trust.

“They stole my shit, and my knife ended up kicked down a staircase after it was ripped out of me,” You pouted, the drug concoction of morphine and other such things loosening you up to talk. 

“You’re quite a rabid beast, ain’t you?” Price said, his tone betraying the fact that he was in fact quite proud of you. It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way and you knew that. You smiled in his direction, jokingly baring your teeth at your Captain. 

“Aye, I think you’re more than a baying hound at this point. Maybe Rottweiler would serve you better. That mouthful of teeth sure does remind me of my childhood,” Soap says, shivering at the thought of being the victim of your maw. 

“I hate to think of the final view those soldiers saw of you,” Gaz laughs. 

“I think Rottweiler suits you,” Ghost says. “Fearless yet loyal.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement, surrounding you with support and love. Something that still unsettles you to this day, but not in the same way facing down the barrel of a gun would. It’s a warm embrace in front of a fireplace that sends a jolt of something new down your spine. A fondness spreading like wildfire, adoration deep seated in your bones to those around you. Just like a dog, you were a fierce protector of your family, but with them? You were a tender beast that rolled over at their feet. 

You couldn’t think of anything better than that thought which warmed your heart. 

[kooki914]

Nobody asked and yet you're getting it anyway, my Dess interpretation! Tbf I love a lot of other people's Dess designs maybe more than my own based on complexity/symbology alone, but this is what my original take for her was so I'm sticking to it. Extremely long list of factoids for her under the cut!

Dess hasn't seen a hairbrush in 8 years.

Opening her first fountain was an accident, and so was entering the dark world, but it was something she desperately needed at that point. She was knighted by Spade King, before being dubbed the Roaring Knight by the general public after she opened the second fountain and people started (correctly) assuming she was trying to cause the apocalypse.

Dess is mtf trans! She was out since she was 9, and took puberty blockers for a while, but stopped after she disappeared because she, y'know, didn't have access to them anymore. Strangely, even though she's been off of them for so long, there's very few side effects. You can just see her Adam's apple sometimes and muscle mass started building for her easily, but that's it. She's silently grateful that her dad didn't pass down any beard-making genes.

The reason why it's been so mild is due in part because of the effect of being in the "void" for too long, aka the space so dark and isolated you can't even feel your own limbs. She was stuck in the code of the game, basically, and it's had adverse effects on her mentally and physically, the only positive effect being less testosterone production in her body.

The physical effects are odd. Though she's grown and her body's age is what it would've been if she never disappeared, she's still in the same clothes she was when she ran away, but they sized up with her. The black nail polish she had on is still there too, not even chipped. As previously mentioned, her hormones are out of whack but, somehow, she's still clearly a grown adult, as if she just went through a very, very mild puberty.

The mental effects of being stranded in the literal nothingness are as expected as they are odd. The standard effects of not having contact with another person for so long have, somehow, never taken hold. It's like the social part of her brain was just put on pause. However, part of the madness she DID get was her very much considering her memories might just be made up. As if she was always here and managed to, somehow, delude herself into thinking she had a life outside of this place, when she never did. Essentially, she stopped existing, but retained some level of consciousness.

The whole "not existing for a while" thing as well as the fact that she's pre-hrt trans means she absolutely hates mirrors. Give her a mirror and she'll give back about a hundred shards of it. When she was younger she usually just had dysphoria over looking too boyish (hence why she never cut her hair) but nowadays she has weird feelings about something as simple as Having Knees (the existential horror of having a body after being formless in the nothingness during your formative years).

Her journey as the Knight was mostly about rediscovering herself, trying to find purpose and trying to help the people around her. She spent her whole life feeling helpless, and wanted to destroy that feeling, for everyone. Her violent behavior was rewarded by the equally maladjusted Spade King, and they teamed up under the pretense of helping all of darkner kind.

Dess set out to cause the Roaring, per his instruction, without knowing what it even was. All she knew is that, apparently, she was the only one who could, and that gave her a sense of purpose. Once she learned it'd bring about the end of the world, she was so detached from the world that she carried on anyway, not concerned with the life that could be lost because, god, she spent so long outside it, how COULD she know what life was worth now?

Dess went by neutral pronouns (they/it) as the Knight because it was another mask she used to distance what she Knew of herself and what she Had to be (kind of like Asriel calling himself "Flowey" in Undertale, actually). Being called "her" was too familiarising and humanising, being called "he" made her break out into hives and start killing, so she stuck with the alternatives for utilitarian reasons. Somewhere along the way she got sick of it and started missing her feminine pronouns, but decided to just stick to the bit anyway. The world was gonna end soon anyhow, who cares?

Once she's out of the role of Knight and back in the light world, you bet your ass she's switching back to exclusively she/her. Fuck neutrality, this girl needs gender affirmative language.

Rediscovering music, and specifically playing and making music, was one of the things that helped Dess get back in touch with being a person again after the whole Knight debacle. She plays piano and harmonica of her own volition, and the violin because of her mom's insistence, but her true favourite will always be the guitar. She was a little small as a kid so playing it used to be difficult, but now that she's an adult having it in her lap is easy, and honestly it just makes her feel alive. One of those dreams she had as a kid that she forgot about along the way, y'know?

Her and Asriel were just family friends at first, but when they ended up going to the same class together too, they quickly became best friends. They were there for each other through everything, Dess got Asriel into games, he was there when she came out, and they were practically inseparable. Asriel was a hard worker and Dess was a super active sports kid, they balanced each other out well and were known as the highest achievers in their class, the golden kids.

Kris and Noelle got dragged into their adventures basically on accident, Noelle because Dess was the one babysitting her all the time, and Kris because they wanted to spend time with their brother. They often spent time outside together because Dess loved being anywhere but at home. She didn't mind Azzy's house, though. Kris was a lot to deal with sometimes and Dess scolded them in a lot of the same ways adults scolded her (minus the hitting them over the head with stuff, what was all her). She has no idea the impact she's had on their behavior.

She was always kind of violent, but when she was younger it wasn't really an issue, more like an excuse to get her into sports. She learned to act out because causing problems was the only context in which she'd get attention from her very busy parents. With Noelle specifically, Dess took on a semi-parental role and quickly developed a habit of taking on way more burdens than she could handle. Even with Asriel as a best friend and the Dreemurrs as a surrogate family, the control her mother Clarice commanded over her life was just too limiting. It all boiled over.

Dess started lashing out at other kids around when puberty hit, starting fights and genuinely hurting people. She never got expelled because her mother was the mayor, but Dess started getting grounded more and more often, which meant less and less time with her only real friend, and more with her very dysfunctional family. She loved Noelle, but her little sister became another responsibility, another liability that could get Dess in trouble, it was way too much for her to handle maturely when she was only 13.

Dess "disappeared" because she ran away from home. She hated living there, but neither of her parents could admit that, hence her disappearance being so "mysterious" to the other townsfolk, they genuinely thought she vanished from inside the house. It was only after Kris admitted they saw her in the woods near the bunker that night that the case got more complicated, and the legend only grew more terrifying.

Her original plan was to just catch a bus to out of town and hope for the best, but when she ran into the woods in pitch blackness, she couldn't find her way around. She was too reliant on light, and couldn't manage in darkness. She found the bunker in her aimless wandering and, hoping to sleep off the night and make up excuses in the morning, she went inside. She couldn't have known that nothing was in there.

The effects of her sudden disappearance rippled throughout the whole town. Most obviously, Asgore got fired for not being able to find her and Rudy quit his job to be a stay at home dad for Noelle's sake. Less tangibly, Asriel and Clarice both started burying themselves in work to avoid grief. Kris and Noelle socially shut down for a few years, it's why neither of them have any real friends other than the strained relationship they have with each other. Asriel took on Dess' habit of "be anywhere but home" when his parents started having marital problems, and Kris latched onto him even harder to avoid losing any more people in their life. Through all this, Dess was nowhere, silently wondering if anyone even noticed she's gone, if her life was even real to begin with.

One of the strange things that happened to her while stranded in nothingness was almost being able to hear someone mumbling to themselves. When she called out, the voice vanished, only to re-emerge an uncertain amount of time later and excuse himself for getting startled. He just doesn't get guests often, you see. And guests get him even more rarely. It was refreshing to hear a consciousness separate from her own, but his mind was even more broken than hers, unable to answer her questions about what was real and what was imagined as he seemed to think he himself was a product of unreality. Plus, he never really stayed for too long and he never wanted to talk about himself either, as if mentioning his own name could shatter him to pieces.

The reason Dess didn't lose her mind from to his influence like Jevil and Spamton did was because she's just fundamentally pragmatic. You can throw philosophy and existential questions at her all you want but as long as she talks and thinks, she exists, which means reality is Something, even if it's completely eluding her grasp. It might also have something to do with her being a (homestuck warning) Void player, meaning the idea of the innate meaninglessness of life and unanswerable questions about reality itself don't really sound earth-shattering to her.

She used her knife to open fountains at first, the one she brought with her from the light world, but along the way she picked up a rapier and decided it was way cooler than a knife so it's her go-to now. She's not actually that good with swords, though. She uses them like baseball bats. Despite this, Spade King still praises her as if she's the best warrior they've seen in generations. It might've gone to her head.

Her relationship with King is fundamentally a mentor and a student. He gave her flawed information, but taught her a lot about herself, the world she found herself in, and the role she could choose. And, that's the most important part, he let her CHOOSE, because he was genuinely under the impression that she was just a really powerful darkner and not a lightner. His strictness and high standards reminded her of her parents, mostly her mom, but his willingness to give HER control over her own destiny is what made her favour him over every other adult in her life. Discipline that treated her like a valued person rather than an asset was basically unheard of for her until then. Plus, reminding her of her parents gave Spade the bonus of every time he encouraged her on anything it'd activate the "parental approval" neurons in her brain that were terribly starved up to that point.

From Spade's point of view, the Knight (as a darkner) is everything he wants to be, but can't be. At first he mentored her mostly as an excuse to live vicariously through her, but in getting to know her better he discovered they have a lot more in common than he first thought. Unregulated emotions, unresolved pasts, the constant feeling that you need to do More and Louder in order to make any kind of impact... he started to genuinely care about her. If/when he's redeemed, finding out the Knight has been a lightner this whole time might not even be that much of a betrayal. Seeing her face and learning her name as she apologies for lying is like reconnecting with his own wounded, younger self. Letting it be water under the bridge means he doesn't lose connection to himself again, doesn't lose connection with his best student. Plus, December IS a nice name.

She met Lancer, but didn't pay him much mind. She was busy with overthrowing the other Kings and was too tired to be a babysitter again. Due to her rancid vibes as the Knight (and the fact that she quickly became the favoured child even though it wasn't her intention) Lancer doesn't like her that much. She left Card Kingdom pretty quickly, anyway (Spade's advice to seek another worthy kingdom to grant a fountain to), so she never got much of a chance to get to know him, even if she wanted to.

Her relationship with Queen is even more fraught. Due to Queen's tendency to mimic the "mother" personality for every lightner she meets individually, as well as her more Explicitly Controlling tendencies, Dess quickly became rebellious and then antagonistic towards her. Queen tried to choose FOR her, to get her to open fountains on HER terms, and Dess wasn't having it. Yes, following Queen's instructions would've caused the Roaring much, MUCH sooner, but, like. Not at ALL in a satisfying way.

She has no idea who Gaster is. When asked, she'll assume he's a Darkner. If asked about the man in the nothingness, she'll shrug it off. Now that she's out, she doesn't know if he's actually real or something she just made up in her head, though she laughs that off as well. "I sound a lot like him when saying that, huh?"

Learning Asriel goes to college is complete whiplash for her. Her sense of time is WRECKED. Like, yeah, she can wrap her head around Noelle and Kris being teens now, but ASRIEL??? What do you MEAN he's not still stressing over chemistry exams and cramming for spanish class, and is, like, actually studying something he's interested in???? Unheard of.

She makes fun of him SO much for his little beard stubble, dude. It's all in good fun, but like, you can only be called "mini Asgore" so many times by your childhood best friend before it starts to cut deeper. On the flipside he has literally nothing bad to say to her. She nearly caused the apocalypse, but like, he gets it. He would've done the same in her shoes (hooves??). He thinks her Dark World armour is so kickass and he could never pull it off like she can.

Unsurprisingly Asriel has a crush on Dess. He always kinda had one, even when they were kids, but reconnecting as adults just Fully bashed him over the head with the fact that he's had repressed feelings for her and he has NO idea what to do about it. He's anxiety incarnate and thinks Dess already KNOWS he has a crush on her and just isn't saying anything because she's playing it cool, or doesn't wanna hurt his feelings, or thinks he's too lame to date or something. He thinks she's the coolest person who ever lived and has no idea how to cope.

Meanwhile in reality, Dess is a clueless aro/ace. She doesn't really know what having a crush even means. She thinks being a couple is, like, flirting and fighting behind closed doors (you can tell the only couples she knew personally were her parents and Asriel's parents), so she thinks it's just exhausting and doesn't know why anyone bothers. When Noelle tells her she has a crush on Susie Dess is like "Hell yeah, love is love........ wait do you mean you like her or you want her to crush you with a boulder" and Noelle sweats for a while before replying with "b-both?"

Dess has never been to Castletown. Most likely will never go.

Her and Kris reconnecting is a bit awkward at first, mostly on account of the fact that Kris and their posse are the ones that had her bash her over the head as the Knight to get her to behave in the first place, but Dess doesn't really focus on that. Kris thinks they hurt her, she just thinks of them as a little hero. Susie kinda helps facilitate them talking like people again, at least at first, because she has no baggage with Dess other than hitting her with an ax over dark fountains and getting stabbed in return, but like... Out of all the people they fought Dess is the only one who actually said sorry for being a jackass, so it's all good in Susie's book. Kris is just happy to have Dess back, man, that bunker and their memory of it has been haunting them for entirely too long, now.

Like Kris and Asriel, Dess learned how to play piano in church. Unlike them, and unlike Noelle, Dess has actually become fully agnostic after her time in the void. If there IS an angel looking out for her, it certainly isn't one that could've helped her, so what's the point of worship? Plus, Asriel and Noelle are two angels looking out for her as is! Why add divinity to that? (I am extremely subtle, I know.)

To this day, she's still apologising to Asgore for getting him fired. He is still apologising for not being able to find her. It's a pity party.

No-one tell her parents but she smokes weed. Once she reformed from being the Knight, she had a lot on her mind, man, weed is the most harmless thing she could've taken to cope. Seam is a good dealer, they have the good stuff.

She's absolutely called King "dad" by accident before. He doesn't really mind. No-one tell Rudy though, he's gonna be pissed.

On that note, I feel the need to add that she was never as close to him as Noelle was, because he only really started being an active parent after Dess went missing. It's kinda tragic, and he feels REALLY guilty about it, but if he ever verbalises that guilt he's gonna actually crumble into dust. His confidence is all a mask as is, actually admitting that he was kind of garbage at being a dad with his first kid is just gonna make it so much worse. But, until Dess hears an apology, she's not really gonna be able to actually mend their relationship, so they're at an impasse.

Inversely, her time away from the light world kinda made Dess forget the way her mother acts. She sorta got a bit of "once away from the abuser you forget the abuse", especially knowing she herself was a kid when it all happened so she kinda started justifying her mother's actions to herself when away from her. After like 2 weeks of living with her again Dess fully remembers why she ran away and packs her bags to live literally anywhere else. Preferably with King if that's an option, though that might just make Lancer move out as well.

She doesn't know what minecraft is.

[emmafreakecreations]

Rhysand is not morally grey- He's just an asshole

Rhys stans will say, "He did all those things UTM to protect Feyre and for the greater good!" and then proceed on a lengthy explanation of his reasons.

No no no no. I understand WHY he did it, I just don't agree with his methods. And there is NEVER a good reason to SA someone.

And yes he did SA Feyre. He drugged her- couldn't get verbal consent from her- and then proceeded to touch her everywhere/ make her dance on his lap, while MAKING her wear revealing clothes. But- but he didn't touch her privates! It doesn't matter he still touched her waist and for most people I know that is in the no no square. It's still touching someone without consent, taking away people's choice about their own body is abuse. And that includes him not telling her about her pregnancy. He didn't want to stress her out! That doesn't matter, she has every right to know about what is going on with her body, knowing her options so she can make an informed decision of what she wants to do. In our world that's literally a violation of HIPAA. And if anything it's more stressful not knowing what is going on with your body. You're bringing real world standards into a fantasy world! SJM already did that by bringing her white 21st century feminism into this world and you guys are often treating Lucien and Nesta based on real world standards so I can do that too.

But Feyre forgave him, so you should too. That's her prerogative but if I was in her shoes I wouldn't. Because his long ass monologue that's TEN PAGES never once said the words "I'm sorry for doing that to you." It's only giving his reasons which to me sound like excuses, because there was definitely another way he could protect her without causing her bodily harm. He could have just left her in her cell and sent her mental images of happy things to keep her sane. He could have just communicated with her through her mind. He needed to keep a rouse up because Amarantha was suspicious! No where in the text does it mention that Amarantha wanted Feyre at those parties. For all she cared Feyre could just go die in her cell from infection and she would win. By Rhys bringing her to those parties he put more of a target on her and raised Amarantha's suspicions. And after rereading the monologue some things in Rhys's plan UTM is inconsistent.

"I decided, then and there, that I was going to fight. And I would fight dirty, and kill and torture and manipulate, but I was going to fight. If there was a shot of freeing us from Amarantha, you were it. I thought … I thought the Cauldron had been sending me these dreams to tell me that you would be the one to save us. Save my people." (pg 448 Ch 54- I have a pdf and idk if that lines up with physical prints)

cool fine. but then he proceeds to say two paragraphs later that he was mad that Tamlin didn't get Feyre out when he had the chance. This does not make sense because if Feyre leaves how tf is she supposed to save everyone. She already has a deal with Amarantha to save people and sure she might die but leaving is not going to save everyone.

"I made you dress like that so Amarantha wouldn’t suspect, and made you drink the wine so you would not remember the nightly horrors in that mountain. And that last night, when I found you two in the hall … I was jealous. I was jealous of him, and pissed off that he’d used that one shot of being unnoticed not to get you out, but to be with you.." (Ch 54 pg 448)

After rereading this I'm convinced this man didn't have much a plan and if anything initially was doing these things out of cruelty and just because he could. His plan makes no sense if you really think about it. Once he got the hots for Feyre, he back tracked. His plan to piss Tamlin off so that he killed Amarantha makes no sense, because Tamlin has already delt with this woman not respecting him saying no, disfigured his best friend, cursed him, and is now trying to kill his lover. I don't think he needs more motivation.

But he is morally grey! no he isn't. Most morally grey characters who have a love interest, at least I have encountered never bodily harm her. They have a line they will not cross- they have morals. Rhysand seems to not have a line-no morals- to me he's more amoral. Carden Greenbriar bullied his love interest and did some heinous shit, but he had a line he wouldn't cross-murder. He does not like murder. When the bullying got to a point where Jude could die, he stepped in and he saved her. Jun-pyo from boys over flowers also bullied his love interest basically because of how he was raised he has no understanding how to show love (similar to Cardan). He got the whole school bullying her just because she stood up to him. But when some students tried to sexually assault her he got pissed at them and told them he never said to do anything like that. He also has a line he won't cross, sexual assault.

to quote my good in real life friend @that-sarcastic-writer , who has endured my rants about this series. Who reads dark romance and who I have summerized this series to:

"You don't have him hurt her and SA her and then later you try to backtrack by having him cry about his love for her without truly apologizing. And that's my biggest issue with most dark romance mmcs. They actively hurt/SA the fmc but then oh she liked it and he loves her deep down. Cause it's one thing to "hurt" the fmc emotionally, like a third act breakup, and that's fine, that's human, people make mistakes and fight, but you can't convince me physically hurting or assaulting the fmc is something that can be forgiven with claims of love."

Anyways Rhysand is red flags everywhere and is not a person you should strive to date. Date more men like Lucien. If you like Rhys and are just like, "I like him, I know he's toxic." You do you but don't try to convince me he is a hero, he is only a villain to me.

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Lenore Vandernatch: the rogue, the gothic heroine and the courtly knight. A review of archetypes

Okay, after going over my notes, here we are again. In case you don't know what this is all about, here is the first of these posts where I'm doing a review of some of the archetypes that Annabel and Lenore seem to be taking notes on.

Just so this doesn't end up being another 3000 word post, let's get started.

The Rogue

In 1554, the first written version of "El Lazarillo de Tormes" was published, the foundational work of what would become known in Spain as the "picaresque novel": stories centered on the rogue, a poor rascal who uses trickery to ensure his survival.

At this stage of the game, we have rogues in a variety of flavors and colors. It would be difficult to make a comprehensive list, so let's talk about these characters in general.

The first thing to note is that rogues are, by definition, outsiders. In the traditional picaresque, the rogue is simply someone from the lower classes, but as this archetype has grown, it has become less about class and more about criminality.

Yes. Rogues are criminals: thieves like Robin Hood, swindlers like the Lazarillo...

Fraud, arson. You name it.

Getting back to the issue of the rogue as an outsider, they may have been one from the start, or they may have become one after attaining their criminal status. Regardless of the reason, these people operate outside of the law, the authorities generally give a shit, and, depending on your rogue flavor, may even actively fight against it.

One thing to note here: this goes a bit beyond Lenore's rebellious attitude. Like a good rogue, she derives enormous personal satisfaction from the thought of getting her way. The world has turned its back on the rogue, so the rogue will not hesitate to turn her back on the world.

In Lenore's case, this attitude of throwing all authority to the wind and actively ignoring any rules imposed on her is a mixture of personality and trauma. In the flashbacks, we see that Lenore has always had a certain disdain for protocol and formalities, but of course, after being locked up for at least a year because the rules of the society she lives in have decided to make her an outcast for her brother 's death, she no longer finds any reason to listen to what they have to say to her. The rules will never go beyond the feeling that she has agency over her life.

From this follows the methods of the rogues: opportunism is one of their hallmarks. Ingenuity, cunning, and creativity are common traits among these characters, something that is usually tied to their status as outsiders and criminals; they don't care about rules, so they think outside the box, either because they are highly intelligent or because they lack common sense.

Maybe both.

So, yes, when Annabel tells her dashing rogue, she's not wrong in the least. But there are more interesting things to look at here

The Gothic Heroine

When some theorists say that Gothic heroines are bland and uninteresting characters, it's...true. But there's a reason for that, so let me get that out of the way for a moment: the image of the maiden in this period is used as a symbol of purity, chastity, goodness, and her corruption, death, or disease works on both a literal and metaphorical level. It is like when you see grotesque religious images in horror movies, there is a powerful and disturbing charge in the idea of seeing something "pure" destroyed.

So the thing about gothic heroines is that, at worst, they are not characters who contribute to the story they are in, but tokens, quasi-sacred representations who are there to die, get sick, or fall victim to a villain who might sexually harass them. Yes, unpleasant.

But good gothic heroines (besides possibly having tuberculosis) are characters with arcs related to corruption, especially mental corruption. And this is where it gets interesting.

But we go from less to more. In her flashbacks, Lenore's physical appearance is almost exactly that of a gothic novel protagonist: pale, almost cadaverous, slender, languid in her movements (because, in this case, she's drugged a significant percentage of the time), and long hair.

Her background in this part of the story, like that of the best gothic heroines, is one of mental corruption: she is here, imprisoned, withering and losing her mind, giving in to despair. There are those who point out a rather strong resemblance between the scene where Lenore tears the flowered wallpaper from her room and the short story The Yellow Wallpaper by the writer Charlotte Perkins. And although this story is not gothic, it definitely retains the most important trope of the genre.

Another element in which we can find Lenore is in the Gothic ballad of the same name, written by Gottfried Bürger in 1773. This poem tells the story of Lenore, a girl condemned by narrative for blaspheming against heaven after the death of her beloved, who is later visited by the Grim Reaper himself to take her to him.

A heartbroken woman committing blasphemy in the name of a lost love? I wonder if that sounds familiar.

And if I had to point out one particular gothic heroine with whom Lenore shares important similarities, it would be Laura from Carmilla.

With the first, she shares two very important things: isolation and a penchant for women who can murder her, a complicated relationship with a gothic vampire.

Laura lives in complete isolation from the world, with the only company of maids and her father; within the first few chapters, we know that she can barely remember the last time she had the company of a woman her own age. Like Lenore in the flashbacks, Laura is something of a secret, hidden from the world (though for less horrific reasons).

And that isolation is broken by the arrival of an elegant, almost supernaturally beautiful upper-class lady who almost kicks in her door with a "Hi, I want to be friends. You'll like me."

Both Laura and Lenore are not afraid of the vampire, though they are not unaware of her strange behavior and will raise a puzzled eyebrow at her promises of affection, as well as her obvious tendency to insist on a fucked-up secret that they are in the middle of and can't share. Another important detail is that both characters have a certain difficulty in describing their feelings as romantic: both are very obviously obsessed with this mysterious lady who has come to interrupt their loneliness, but Laura never fails to refer to Carmilla as her "friend" (a behavior that the modern reader may interpret, with more than fair reason, as comphet), and Lenore is little more than that, at least until the mansion arch where the shingle falls on her.

Last but not least, just as Lenore is treated as "crazy," there are several events in Laura's life (such as her first encounter with Carmilla when she was a child) or that occur throughout the novel that are dismissed by those around her as her being a little touched in the head.

The courtly knight

Here it is necessary to make a distinction: knights are a far-reaching figure, but before and during the Middle Ages they mainly starred in two types of stories: the canta de gesta (which was intended to tell great deeds of inspiration for certain peoples, such as the Song of Mio Cid in Spain or the Song of the Nibelungs in Germany. This last one is the best Canto de gesta in history, I do not accept arguments) and the Novel of chivalry or courtly (focused on the individual story of the knight and introduces elements of the court).

What is the main difference between the knight of the canto de gesta and the knight of the court? Well... the latter is much more horny. And we are talking about Lenore, so you have until the end of this paragraph to imagine which of these knights we are talking about.

The first thing to keep in mind is that the Courtly Knight has a pretty strong moral compass: nobility, mercy, loyalty, and honor are values they firmly believe in; these characters are heroes, and that means that while they are not perfect, they represent ideals that are considered important in this time. And we're talking about vassalage, so you get it.

This is the first thing Lenore has in common with the knights of the court: her strong sense of morality. Yes, she's not afraid to play dirty like a rogue, but she's pretty clear about what things are important to her in that regard, and she's willing to uphold those ideals even in the context of Nevermore, which actively encourages its students to kill and betray each other.

However, the personal agendas of these knights have one important thing in common: the conflict between their own desires and their duty.

What are those desires? Well...

Good courtly knights usually have to choose between their love/sexual interests and where their personal loyalties lie, which, due to the era in which these stories take place, are usually their feudal lords or even kings.

We already established that Lenore doesn't give a shit about authority, but her personal loyalty is to her friends. And this is where it gets tricky for her: So far in the comic, Lenore has kept her relationship with Annabel a secret from her friends, and she has kept the fact that she wants to save her friends a secret from Annabel. A conflict that may eventually blow up in her face, and on the face of it, really befits a courtly knight (though if she were a real one, the Misfits might ask her to kill the Deans or something in exchange for accepting her relationship with Annabel).

To continue with this, we need to stop for a moment and talk about another little thing: courtly love. There are many definitions of it, but my favorite is the one that defines it as an attempt to reconcile mystical love with eroticism. Fun fact: these stories were written in the Provençal language, something that would associate romantic tropes with "vulgar language".

In any case, courtly love usually speaks of the beloved maiden as an idealized object, a figure who inspires an almost religious devotion. And the most recurrent theme within courtly love is what is called "love from afar": it focuses more on the journey in search of the beloved than on the couple's relationship as such (this journey can be literal or metaphorical), the knight has symbols associated with the pilgrim, there is a certain hatred of the image, the maiden is seen as an almost religious figure, and...

Yes, the color associated with the so-called "love from afar", specifically with the beloved maiden, is damn blue.

Now that we've got all that out of the way, it's time to break down why Lenore fulfills some of these things and why she doesn't.

Going with the tropes that are fulfilled, we can say that Lenore is on a more or less metaphorical journey. A journey to recover her memories and her identity. One at the end of which her lover waits for her "until the abyss claims them both".

Like a knight, Lenore is willing to make great personal sacrifices in pursuit of the things she cares about: she is willing to die for the people she cares about (the misfits) and for her lover (Annabel). The Living Long Thing is something the Knight don't know about, and since Lenore is in Nevermore, apparently neither does she.

With all that said, it's worth noting the biggest difference: courtly love features relationships based on vassalage and a huge power differential. Something that does not happen here. No, Lenore calling Annabel "my liege" doesn't count.

To explain this further -and to summarize, because it's a subject that bloody books have been written about-t he relationships in courtly love have two different levels of power: the knight must perform feats to be worthy of affection, and the maiden is little more than a prize to be won.

This unbalanced power dynamic is something that simply does not exist in the White Raven: an important part of their relationship is that both are equal in charisma, intelligence, and resourcefulness. The unstoppable force and the immovable object. Annabel is as willing to die for Lenore as she is for herself, and Lenore would probably go into berserker mode if anyone dared to treat Annabel as a prize.

Yes, you could argue that the balance of power is a bit weighted toward Lenore because Annabel is willing to make sacrifices for her that Lenore wouldn't make because she has some, you know, morals. But I think that has more to do with Annabel's character than her relationship with Lenore (that's another analysis I have a pin for when the season is over).

Conclusions

If the archetypes that Annabel seems to take note of are all quite related, Lenore, on the contrary, is much more like a mosaic: these characters have little in common and some (like the Rogue and the Knight) directly contradict each other. This woman is chaotic in her conception: opportunistic and rebellious as a rogue, pious and with strong values as a knight, and condemned by the narrative as a gothic heroine.

Another thing that stands out is that two of these three archetypes are traditionally male characters. Personally, I don't think Lenore is "like a man": her entire background and personal history is meant to work in terms of her status as a woman in the time period she lives in. She can do all the shit these male heroes do and better (though the hc that Lenore is somewhere on the non-binary spectrum is not a reading that conflicts with that).

And I use the word "hero" because another detail stands out here as well: yes, many of these characters are not only often the protagonists of the stories they are in, they are heroes within their historical periods and literary movements.

I'm going to do a third part of this comparing Lenore's archetypes to Annabel's because, believe me, there's some really crazy stuff to unpack there.

[hawkogurl]

Hi! 😊 I saw you post something saying it was clear to you that raimi harry Osborn was schizophrenic do you think you could please explain that a bit? (If you've already made a post about it and I've just missed it I apologise) Have a nice day!

Probably won’t be the best worded so I’ll be happy to elaborate further. Also feel compelled to state that I probably view that constitutes canon pretty differently than most people. What I mean by the idea that Harry having some sort of psychotic disorder in the raimiverse is at least semi-canon is generally pretty complicated so bear with me.

A lot of what has brought me to this conclusion is pretty doylist. It’s not a plot hole that Harry’s hallucinating in the second movie, the way the first two movies are written in this regard before Sony decided to fuck with things in the third is too deliberate. Raimi’s history as a horror directors shows in a lot of areas, but it never really feels like he’s throwing elements in for the hell of it, whenever something feels horrorish, it’s pretty deliberate. All this to say that Harry’s not hallucinating for the hell of it.

When it comes to specifically raimiverse based interpretation, there’s generally four things I see a lot. The first and in my opinion weakest being the idea that it’s happening as a result of the serum in the nearby hidden room leaking. I understand how this is seen as appealing or interesting, especially in any case where someone might think it doesn’t make sense for Harry not to have developed a goblin persona like Norman had. In the past I’ve gone into how I believe that’s also a pretty deliberate narrative choice, so putting all that aside, I don’t think it makes sense for this to be intended by the creators. From a writing standpoint, if that’s what we were supposed to think, you’d be shown shots to indicate things like that. Additionally, the serum itself is always shown to be stored in a liquid form, only gas when it’s applied to a person, a process that consistently requires quite a bit of machinery. I understand the appeal of the theory, but if I’m looking at what I think is most likely to be the thought in the creators heads, I don’t think this is likely.

I also see it generally get dismissed as ghosts a lot, which also feels strange to me. The only other instance of something happening that could be seen as similarly supernatural would also be in this movie, being the scene where Peter, conflicted about how being Spider-Man effects his life, has a conversation with Ben, who is also dead, in the car from the first movie in the middle of a white void. This scene occurs in an ambiguous white background using imagery from the last conversation Peter had with Ben before he died and also draws on how that conversation has affected Peter’s worldview. This scene ends by cutting to Peter, who’s sitting in bed with his eyes open as he comes to the conclusion he can’t keep being Spider-Man. Because of the framing of it in a space that isn’t recognizable as the normal physical world and the fact we’re shown Peter in the physical world after it, we’re not meant to be taking this scene literally. This scene is a metaphorical expression of Peter’s internal conflict, not a literal event that’s physically happening in any sort of meaningful capacity. It’s a visual expression of a non physical story element. This isn’t all that important for my point, but I find it important to state for later comparison.

This leaves Harry’s interactions with Norman after he’s died as the only remaining event that can be simply explained with the supernatural. That being said, it doesn’t really make internal sense for this to be the case. Though fantastical, every superhuman element of this story has been at least connected to some sort of scientific idea that grounds it in reality, never something more fantastical. The Green Goblin is the result of a performance enhancing drug created for the military. Doc Ock is the result of malfunctioning AI and his most dangerous goals rely on using nuclear fusion to create energy. Sandman was created by the writer’s rather incorrect idea of what a particle accelerator is. Venom is an alien, but still connected pretty blatantly to real life biology ideas of real word symbiotes. It’s all rather fantastical and implausible, but it’s all still connected to real world familiar scientific ideas. To randomly bring the supernatural into it for scenes it could be easily replaced with something else to accomplish the same end results and never elaborating on the idea that apparently ghosts are real would be a really bizarre world building choice.

But going back to the scene with Peter, unlike that this scene is not framed to be metaphorical. It’s happening in the real world right before and after real physical events with Harry and has physical results on the world and the characters. In some capacity, what’s happening here is literal—but I don’t think that means some piece of Norman is physically there. The audience is viewing this alongside Harry and from his perspective, there’s never any other character who’s present for scenes where Harry experiences things like this. The events are literal and intended to be something physically happening, but only from Harry’s perspective. There’s no other set of eyes to establish the reality of this from beyond Harry’s sole perspective.

Among the common theories I see, I probably like the idea that it’s alcohol induced the second most. I don’t really like to demean it because I think it’s very likely that this idea is important to people in the same way it being psychological is important to me. That being said, I don’t know how much I think it holds up to scrutiny. Yes, Harry’s shown to be drinking pretty heavily around this period, but in the moment he first experiences his hallucinations, he’s not shown to be drinking. He at least appears to be somewhat sober. In the second instance, he is shown to drink, but only in the literal seconds before he hallucinates. If this is intended to be the actual cause, the creators would more likely put more emphasis on him drinking in relation to the hallucinations or similar. That being said, I have reasons I think it was kept more vague that I’ll get into.

If I’m looking at what was likely intended, the most likely doylist explanation for why these scenes exist, the idea it’s psychological for him is the only thing that’s going to consistently check out. For one thing, in the comics, Harry is schizophrenic! That’s outright the word used to describe what he has going on, he is diagnosed with schizophrenia. Additionally, in a lot of comics with Harry at the time, he’s hallucinating Norman as an expression of a lot of his internal conflicts, similarly to what we see here. In the comics that Raimi Harry most closely follows the broader beats of, he has persecutory hallucinations of his father as an expression of his internal conflict, hallucinations that target the things that he feels make him weak and drive him towards his worst behaviors while also being specifically schizophrenic. In the raimi trilogy, Harry develops persecutory hallucinations of his father that particularly target the idea that he feels weak and drive him towards his worst behaviors. From that alone, it’s not irrational to conclude that it’s at least something of a reference towards his schizophrenia in the comics.

What’s more, in the novelizations it appears to be rather explicit. While interviews and Reddit AMAs have made it somewhat clear that Peter David, their author, did have quite a bit of freedom, they also made it clear he was still obligated to follow the scripts he was given rather closely and his writing still had to be approved. The novels were primarily only allowed elaboration, not outright reimagining. In the novelizations, Harry is written to hallucinate much more frequently. He’s often paranoid of the world. His behavior is more erratic. He experiences moments of Cotard’s delusion. His behavior through the third movie goes from likely being inspired by or intended to reference and imply Harry’s comic-canon schizophrenia to, in the novels, being outright written to resemble and follow the symptoms of schizophrenia far more closely. While they very much aren’t the movies, the fact that they were being written from the scripts at the time of the movies release and a lot of the information we have on how they were written does point me towards the idea that while you can’t exactly treat them as above the movies in terms of what’s canon, you can treat them very fairly as auxiliary information in terms of interpreting the intended story.

Additionally, I think they provide a pretty interesting piece of information that also sort of solidifies the idea for me that what Harry’s experiencing is some form of psychosis. Harry only develops these issues after learning Peter is Spider-Man. Not after taking the serum, specifically immediately after learning Peter is Spider-Man. At this point in the story, Peter is Harry’s closest friend and arguably the most important person in Harry’s life. I don’t need to explain that Spider-Man is the exact opposite. It’s likely rather shattering to how Harry perceives reality to realize the most important person in his life is the person he hates the most, and that he’s been lying to him after in Harry’s perception killing his father for multiple years. Psychosis is specifically a break in someone’s grasp on reality. I don’t think it’s that hard for me to believe that a revelation that shattered how Harry perceived reality that severely might risk causing a psychotic episode of some form.

Additionally, it’s the most consistent with how the world and writing of these movies work internally. It’s never really about the fantastical elements narratively—these movies are about people. The internal, human elements of these characters lives are the most emphasized, the supernatural elements are almost always allegorically connected to some aspect of humanity or very human flaws. That’s always what’s emphasized. Narratively, the goblin is representative of Norman’s greed and ego, his conviction that he is superior to others and entitled to power and control. Otto isn’t about the arms, not really, it’s about selfishly motivated ambition even with the best of intentions and turning those motivations into selfless ones. Flint being Sandman is secondary to how poverty has fucked him over, how he’s been forced into crime in his desperation to help his ill daughter. Eddie wasn’t really corrupted by Venom, he was a selfish and self centered man with a massive sense of entitlement to what he wanted who was given the power to do what he wanted. By extension, it makes the most sense that Harry, who’s already defined by trauma, cycles of abuse and identity would be far more connected to the very human idea of mental illness than something far less poignant like inexplicable supernatural elements.

All this to say that when I, guy who’s always going to feel compelled to take doylism and authorial intent into account when doing my analysis, look at all the information that I have, I think it’s very likely that Harry’s comics schizophrenia or hallucinations were on the writer’s minds when they were planning out or writing the scenes I am referring to. I don’t think that was ever likely to end up explicit—it’s not practical for a movie with its demographic, with a studio prone to intervention, especially with how messy SM3’s development was. It’s not practical for it to be super explicit in a movie of its demographic in 2007, but I think it’s very likely to be on the writers minds when it was written.

[book-place]

NEVER GROW UP

#33 for Dean Winchester (and "best-friend/like siblings" who's had a bad time lately... IF it strikes you! I know that's more specific than you were looking for, so if not, OBVIOUSLY no worries, hon!!! I love anything you write!) THANKS! (even if you don't get to it!)

[Celebration]

OOH I LOVE THIS IDEA- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING IT IN (I only realized after that I might have flipped the request around- sorry!!) <333

Never Grow Up

33. “And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town.”

“Come on, get up.” You stood in front of the television, hands on your hips and a determined look set on your face, “We’re going out.”

Dean groaned, trying to crane his neck to see around you, “I’m tired, let’s just stay in tonight and watch movies.”

You sighed, shaking your head softly, you hadn’t wanted it to come to this.

Swiftly, you marched over to Dean and slapped him, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to send a message.

The man gawked up at you, “What the hell was that for?” He demanded, holding the cheek you had hit him on.

“You told me,” You spoke as you moved around the motel room, pulling clothes out of bags for Dean to wear, “When we were teenagers that if you ever passed up the opportunity to go out on a Friday night for drinks to slap some sense into you.” You looked over your shoulder and raised a single eyebrow at him, “Remember?”

Things had been hard lately. Cases seemed to just keep popping up, piling into on big, overwhelming heap. Every time you turned around, a new town was being terrorized or some poor family had bought a house over a literal portal to hell.

Not only did it exhaust you physically, but mentally, it had taken a toll as well.

You and the Winchesters had grown up your entire lives being used to the horrors that lurked in the world. But you were only human after all, there was only so much you could withstand without ever getting a break.

Dean, you had noticed, was taking it harder than normal. And as his lifelong best friend, you took it upon yourself and decided that it was your job to lighten his spirits and make him feel better. Even if that meant the night would end with him being drunk.

He crossed his arms childishly over his chest, grumbling something you no doubt should be glad you couldn’t hear.

“Enough complaining,” You chided him as if you were his mother, marching back over and dragging him up by the arm, “Up and at ‘em. Get changed.”

Reluctantly, he did as you said. But not without sighing dramatically every two minutes in order to let you know how upset he was about it.

When he had finally given into your death glare and put shoes on, you snatched the keys to the impala from his hands and drove the two of you to the nearest bar. Just in case he got into the drivers seat and tried to go anywhere but the destination you had in mind.

Thankfully, he got out of the car and walked into the bar without any form of retaliation, and you were able to relax slightly when he went to go get the two of you a table.

That left you to get the drinks, not that you minded. You ordered what the two of you normally got and made your way back to Dean, who was sitting, waiting for you.

“I come bearing beer.” You joked, placing his drink in front of him.

Your best friends lips only quirked up slightly for a second, you wouldn’t even consider it a smile.

With a small frown, you put the beer to your lips, downing a sip, only to immediately begin coughing and sputtering.

Your eyes were wide as you looked down at the beer. Whatever it was that you just drank was definitely not what you normally got.

Then, the sound of laughter dragged your confused eyes up and over to Dean, whose shoulders were shaking as he looked at your disgusted expression.

His face was split into a wide grin that seemed to light up the room. You hadn’t seen him smile like that in ages. It was like a breath of fresh air for you, one you so desperately needed. It was almost enough to make you forget that he was laughing at you. Almost.

“You find my suffering amusing, Winchester?” You challenged, a playful tint in your tone.

He chuckled in response, leaning back and taking a sip of his beer, only to come back, sputtering and coughing just like you had moments before.

Slowly, the two of you each looked down at your own bottles, then too each others when it dawned on you and you both burst into fits of laughter.

“No-no wonder this tastes like shit.” You wheezed our in between giggles, “It’s your beer, and you have terrible taste.”

“Right back at ya.” Dean snickered, trading beers with you so that you both had your respective drinks for real this time.

As you sobered up, you admired the way that Deans muscles finally seemed to relax after what felt like months of being tense. And how he smiled with ease, not having to force it in a way he had done on more than one occasion recently to try- with no avail- to convince you that he was fine.

At least for now, everything was going well.

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr

[camilaxmartin]

Hi again😆 if it's no trouble I was wondering if you could do more Shuri x reader headcannons, this time where the reader has a movie night with Shuri in Wakanda. Idk about you but I definitely think that even though Wakandans have advanced technology they definitely wouldn't use it for Tiktok or YouTube and stuff like that probably because they don't really know about it even if they witnessed it when a few of them went to America but anyways. They are in Shuri's room watching a movie on a projector or something idk😭 but yh Shuri gets to experience a movie with the reader.

I literally have another idea but imma leave you with this😂. I think I might become a regular 😭😂.

Love you ❤🫂

ღ movie nights

hi sun! thank you soo much for this request!! when i read it my imagination just got straight up to work. i got a bit carried away at the end but i hope it makes it better! and yes, i love your ideas so don’t be shy to become my regular<3

navigation // request // me and find the rest!

summary: movie nights with shuri

warnings: f!reader; nothing really

notes: i just wrote this in totally different style than i usually do but oh well, we should try different things right?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>•<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

• okay okay so

• i think shuri would be into watching anything you like

• of course she’d have her own preferences but like everything is acceptable as long as you’re happy (fine, almost everything)

• i also feel like she would love horror movies but not because they’re scary but because she’s laughing while watching them

• yap, she’s the type of person to laugh at the most scary jump scare you’ve ever seen in you life

• if you’re also into horror movies i think it’d be your most viewed genre of films

• i have a feeling you two would make a list of best to worst scary films you two have seen together

• and also list of the ones were she was laughing her ass of and/or you were looking at her in pure horror

• unless you also laugh at these

• well then, that list would be common

• but if you’re not so much into horror movies (like me) i know for a fact shuri would sometimes just play this type for you to snuggle up with her when you’re scared or when you just generally don’t want to watch certain scenes

• also if you’d be really scared she would talk you out of it

• literally i see it so clearly, you sit between her legs, your back rested on her front, her fingers playing with yours

• and she whispers those sweet nothings to your ear

• “you know why i laughed so hard? well if you look closely you can see the tip of the microphone in the corner. also it isn’t physically possible for human body to do THAT and then run over 5 miles and STILL be able to fight this cheaply dressed up guy with a knife that was oh so accidentally laying there and MISS! it’s pure comedy, really”

• and you would actually start to notice those little things more because of her

• and see for yourself that she’s totally right

• even tho jump scares still have your heart rate rising up high and quickly the other scenes loose there magic a bit when you not even consciously get to see little mistakes coming along with them

• of course, she wouldn’t make you watch horror movies with, if you actually despise them

• but she would mind watching them with you even from time to time

• as i said before she would be cool with watching almost anything

• i think she wouldn’t admit to it but she would really enjoy watching some cartoons with you

• it’s just like a bit of break from the real, sad world

• cartoons were everything will turn out good at the end

• or the ones with totally no sense at all

• just something that will be able to take her mind off from everything or anything that’s happening

• you would love those nights too

• shuri would prepare everything, as usual

• you’d have popcorn, some chips, the sweet ones and the salty, some cookies you two probably baked together an hour ago, she would adore jelly candy, don’t know why she just would, and she would always have them in almost every flavour she could find! and every color. the red ones, blue, green, yellow, orange and even purple! our girl loves having the whole ass rainbow on her table

• she’s more of a salty than sweet person but jelly candy are the only exception

• i think more of the movie nights you two would spend at the top of the palace

• she just loves the comfy feeling of breeze while laying with her girl

• she would definitely prefer for you to lay on her so you can see the movie as clear as possible without the possibility of her getting in the way for you

• for her own she just doesn’t care that much, i mean she knows what’s happening so that’s enough

• unless you two watch one of her favourite movies

• then if she could she would come into the screen

• you often need to tell and sometimes even drag her to sit a bit further cause, first she blocks your vision and the only thing you can see is her back (not that you don’t like this view it’s just in that moment you’d prefer to watch the movie) and second, sitting so close is damaging for her eye sight (not that she’s not aware of that)

• i feel like at the roof she would have a big white screen just for watching movies with you

• at first she was always taking it down when the two of you were done, but now it just stays there looking at the fact that your movie nights are pretty common way of spending your time together now

• i feel like she would constantly play with you hair if not your fingers, this girl just need to keep her fingers busy with something (if you catch my drift-)

• besides loving the times you two you’d have movie nights at the top of her palace i think there would also be many times where you’d just snuggle up in your shared bed and watch something on the projector she has in her room

• i also think sometimes she would just accompany you when you’re watching one of your series (even though she would have no clue what’s going on and you were to caught up in watching to explain everything to her. knowing to well she would just forget everything the minute you stop talking)

• i have a strong feeling shuri wouldn’t be the type of person to watch series she’s a total movie person

• but as i said, she wouldn’t mind just laying next to you while you’re watching something from your genre

• i think that wouldn’t work the other way tho

• it’s easier to catch up with a movie or even a series of let’s say five movies than in a whole series, so it’s easier situation for you

• at the end i think those movie nights would be one of shuri’s favourite moments with you

• i’m sure she even asked you to be her girlfriend at one of them, i’m 100% certain of this

• it was a night filled up with only the movies you’ve chosen

• shuri explained herself she’s not in the mood to chose something tonight which was the biggest lie of the decade

• of course it was one for the times when you two were at the roof of the palace

• she prepared everything

• snacks? check.

• whole list of movies? check.

• pillows and blankets? check.

• your favourite plushies? check. (most of them were gift from her)

• everything was as it was supposed to be.

• she took you to the roof covering your eyes and finally she took her hands away when you were standing right where she wanted you

• the smiled that appeared on your face that moment was the best thing she could ever wish for

• beside you, of course

• and when the sun was starting to set in, you began your movie night

• you were laying next to shuri while she was playing with your fingers

• i think you were two movies in when suddenly she stopped it by touching one of the stones on her bracelet

• she sat up and you did the same moment after her

• you looked her a bit surprised, but when you saw her face you knew something bigger was up

• she then started the movie again but quieting it a bit

• and it was your total favourite from the whole list

• your attention came back to the screen for a second only realising that it was your favourite scene

• then your attention went back to her when she immediately took your hands in hers and squeezed them a bit

• and she just asked “do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

• it take you a bit by a surprise but as soon as you came back to you senses you replied “of course!”

• and shuri smiled with as bright smile as you did when she brought you there that night

[unnervinglyferal]

It's more tied to the fact that psychosis or whatever the hell my brain has been hitting me with since like August hits when I'm here in my bed at night, sometimes in the middle of my sleep, like, it literally wakes me up in the depths of the night just to fucking make me experience suicide-inducing levels of existencial dread and horrific sensations previously only known to maybe G-d and other bodyless entities.

I'll be here laying still trying to get some G-d forsaken rest, which is something we all need to survive and function like sane human beings -at the maximum extent some of us can- and my mind will decide it's the best time ever to make me go through mental acrobatics that involve me being unable to recognise that I exist, that others exist and that no, actually, the world will not disappear the minute I go to sleep or even die, and you guys are your own individual beings with your own consciences, the problem with that is that you don't really have anything that proves that to you. I lack tactible proof that you guys are as real as me, and that you guys have your own private currents of reality, because you can't prove that kind of stuff, it's stuff that seems obvious in perspective, but you don't really ever get to see it yourself, because most people don't need that type of proof.

Anyways, that's not the only problem. Alongside existencial doubt and dread and horror, I have to face physical sensations that don't make any sense. Yesterday night I got woken in the middle of the night by a sense of incredible vibrating violence against the world, and it was not like, just an emotion, because the insides of my nails itched with hate. My hands feel like, heavy and lightweight at the same time, and I get such an intense mental fog. It's terrible. It's a feeling so terrible it makes me, the 18 year old adult fucker, go to sleep on the same bed my parents do hoping it'll leave me alone. It's a feeling so overwhelming that my mind instantly decides that dying would be a viable option for instant release, as in the sense of euthanasia. It's embarassing, it's distressing, it's agonizing, it is unsustainable.

I don't even know for sure if it's psychosis, but I call it such because I've considered that it might be like an anxiety attack or a meltdown out of overstimulation, but it feels different that any of those things. It's mental anguish that came out of years of sadness, depression, fear and loneliness. It woke me up in the middle of the night one random day and it hasn't left since.

So far, I can only seem to wait those out when they happen. Not like I have any other choices. I can't seem to find any triggers that I could avoid to avoid causing them in the first place, though it's not like something that hits you in the middle of sleep without any seemingly plausible reason it's the kind of thing that can be avoided at all by any means. Just one of those situations you gotta grit your teeth through, before you figure out what exactly it is or where did it come from or if it's curable at all.

And that's why I'm scared of going to sleep. The mind works in ways. Not sure which, just ways.

You need to get somewhere peaceful. Somewhere that you've got peace of mind and you can rationally trust that you're safe. I'm not going to say "feel safe", because you're not going to feel safe anywhere for a long while no matter where you are, but somewhere where you can tell yourself that the part telling you that you're in danger is wrong, and trust that it's true.

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

What do you think happened at those Career Districts?

How do they volunteer being in the life/death competition?

Do you think this is parallel in real life?

Thank you,

@curiousnonny

i feel like im basic about this in the sense that i read it very literally as how war drafting/enlisting works. career districts are closer to the capitol, if not physically, politically and ideologically, and so they kind of.. believe in the hunger games more. obviously they are still distraught about sending kids to die, but its for a good cause, right? doing this now means avoiding a war in the future. its twenty three lives a year versus millions at once, and you know, president snow says it might wipe out the whole world given the weapons we have! i love my kids and i love my friends but its the choice between letting one die versus letting all of them die.

and so i think they almost equate the games to a war. you are either drafted (reaped) or enlist (volunteer). the career districts volunteer because it is, very literally, a career path. you train your whole life to win the games and bring home glory, enlist, and ideally, win, come home, spend a year recovering and being paraded around, and then you teach the other kids how to follow in your footsteps. every district has mentors for the chosen tributes, but i think since kids in career districts were training, those mentors made their services available to all the kids in the district, not just the chosen ones. (and yes, i do believe they think of themselves as the chosen ones.) its amazing how much you can justify when you believe in the cause. its like that one post about the older woman who was against unions because it meant that everything she'd done was for nothing. if the career districts are to realize that the hunger games and their entire governmental system is corrupt, then wasting their whole lives away to learn to kill and survive, to treat human lives as a means to an end, and to send kids off to the games willingly was all for... nothing. and if its all for nothing, look how much they lost already. how can you recover from that? how can you face yourself?

they have to continue volunteering and training and going along with the games because it would mean everything they thought was important is actually harming them and was never important at all. one must imagine sisyphus happy, right?

but yeah, this is very parallel to how people enlist for war in real life. we even see in the volunteers, katniss volunteers to save her family, because she'd rather fight a war than let it touch her sister, but no one volunteers for peeta because hes a decent option anyway. finnick has a head full of visions of glory and he volunteers too young, and letting go of that cockiness, no matter how false, would be admitting that he did it for all the "wrong" reasons. mags (an older veteran and mentor) volunteers for annie (a young woman already scarred) so that the younger generation is protected from the horrors of war. peeta volunteers for haymitch for the opposite reason, but also because he wants to die with his fellow soldiers if he must, even if we erase katniss entirely.

and even with being reaped (drafted), its going to be a majority of poorer people in minority groups who need get more tesserae and have their names in more times. so you see someone like gale, whose name is in more than probably any other kid in the district with forty two slips in order to get food for his family and save his younger siblings, is so geared to war. hes already fighting it in his head. and if he admits that war is not the answer, that principles do not have to be casualties in it, then it was all for nothing. his whole life, lived in fear of reaping but never volunteering, of always being prepared to fight but never willing to jump in... it was all useless. especially because we saw peeta volunteer in the 75th games to be with katniss, but it never occurs to gale to do the same in the 74th. we know how eager he is to fight, but he never chooses it.

i think suzanne collins did a fantastic job building up this system because it is very, very real and very, very poignant.

[haveyoureadthisfantasybook]

People might be sending things that you consider science fiction and not fantasy because in some countries/cultures, science fiction is actually considered to be a sub-genre of fantasy! It’s a commonly held belief in a lot of former Soviet countries, for example. (I don’t really agree with it 100% myself. Like it really used to annoy me as a kid tbh, but I’m more whatever about it now, I guess, lol.)

Just thought it might be an explanation for some of those seemingly weird suggestions!

I’m aware of this, and it’s certainly true that the genres are closely related (certainly much more closely than theorists of science fiction often admit) and at times overlapping. thus far, however, the submissions that have raised genre questions have all been things that are either

more or less clearly neither fantasy nor sci-fi (including one mistaken submission),

things where there is at least potentially a case to be made for fantasy (I can see, for example, where the Acorna submission was coming from, insofar as the series does include unicorn people), or

Harry Harrison’s The Stainless Steel Rat, which might have fantasy elements that aren’t apparent to me from the blurb / reviews, though I suspect it does not.

they’ve also all involved anglophone texts, some of which are untranslated, which obviously doesn’t preclude the possibility of people outside the anglophone world (and who might draw genre boundaries differently) reading them but does make me suspect that that’s not what’s going on.

I should also maybe at this point note something that‘s become apparent to me about my own sense of genre boundaries as I’ve gone through the submissions, namely:

I am willing to be quite flexible about the boundary between “fantasy” and “literary fiction”, as long as the literary fiction in question has some fantastic elements — I would probably accept Macedonio Fernández’s Museo de la Novela de la Eterna, for example, which is mainly modernist metafiction but does involve literally, physically rotating the city of Buenos Aires several degrees around an axis by unexplained supernatural means.

I am essentially unwilling to be flexible about the boundary between “fantasy” and “science fiction”, unless the science fiction in question explicitly has magic in it (Jack Vance’s Dying Earth would qualify on these grounds even though it’s implied that the magic is simply science that’s no longer understood), and not just inexplicable alien powers or classic sci-fi psychic powers.

re point 1, I wavered on Die Verwandlung / The Metamorphosis, but having accepted it I think I'm probably likely (though not guaranteed) to accept anything relevant — that is, standalone (and published alone) prose fiction with explicit magical or supernatural elements — published after Galland’s Les Mille et une nuits (1704-1717). there are exceptions — I probably wouldn’t take Voltaire’s philosophical novel Zadig, for example, for all that it does include an angelic visitation — but if you’re looking at an eighteenth- or nineteenth-century text and thinking, “this feels like fantasy”, feel free to send it in (especially if you explain what the relevant magical / supernatural elements are).

(as an aside, this is also all very funny because despite the influence of certain pregenre fantasy (to borrow Jamie Williamson’s term) on early proto-sci-fi — by way of Romanticism and the gothic — historically the trajectory in English was the opposite: popular fantasy was a marginal subset of what was being published in pulps that focused on more or less realist (albeit often unrealistic) adventure stories, on sci-fi, and on horror. the boundary I’m delineating is very much a post hoc one even in an anglophone context.)

[sapphicwhump]

Cyberpunk as a Whump Setting

So after watching through Cyberpunk: Edgerunners and then diving head-first into the Cyberpunk Red TTRPG system for the last few weeks, I’ve concluded that Cyberpunk is a fucking amazing setting for putting your characters through as much psychological trauma as possible. The combination of extremely advanced technology, plus a society that has been utterly fucked by capitalism, means your options for whump scenarios are near-endless.

First-off, the availability of cyberware and medical technology means you can do a lot more to your whumpees without killing them. Losing body parts isn’t a huge deal when you can cheaply get a cybernetic replacement, or have new flesh body parts cloned from your own DNA and then implanted back into you. Your caretaker can find the whumpee literally in pieces, and have them still make a full recovery—physically, at least. There’s also ample potential in ripping out the whumpee’s cybernetics, installing cybernetics without anesthetic, or hitting their cybernetics with EMPs to disable them and cause immense pain in the process.

Cybernetics get even more whump potential when you consider that you can literally plug your brain into computers in this setting, and there’s all sorts of nasty things in digital space that could fuck up your whumpee in any number of ways. Hacking is a much more risky proposition when an enemy hacker can get into your cybernetics and fry your brain like an egg.

But there’s even whumpier technology in this setting: braindances. A braindance is fully immersive virtual reality that engages all five senses and is completely indistinguishable from real life. People can also record their own experiences into a braindance, which others can then relive exactly as it happened. In-setting, this has led to a huge braindance entertainment industry.

Braindances are actually used for whump in canon. Here’s an excerpt from the Cyberpunk wiki:

The whump potential here is truly immense. Just off the top of my head:

Force your whumpee to relive XBDs, swapping them out as you like to put them through endless varieties of torture back-to-back

Create an XBD of your whumpee, and then have your caretaker watch it (from the perspective of either the whumpee or the whumper)

Create an XBD of your whumpee, and then sell it. Their pain and humiliation is now entertainment to anyone who pays. Maybe one of their “fans” even recognizes them in public.

Create an XBD of your whumpee, and then force the whumpee to relive their own torture on repeat for any length of time

Force your caretaker to watch as your whumpee is put through an unknown XBD, trying to guess what the whumpee might be reliving just from their physical reactions

Confuse and gaslight your whumpee until they think a braindance is reality, or they think reality is a braindance, or they just can’t tell anymore and no longer trust their surroundings

I’m sure there’s many others all you lovely writers can think of.

It’s not just the tech in Cyberpunk, though—it’s the people. Megacorps run the world and gangs roam the streets. The horror of the dystopian setting is completely normalized, and genuine empathy and human connections are rare and precious. Cyberpunk is a great setting for when you want to throw the entire world against your characters. Here are just a few people who could make for good whumpers:

A brutally efficient corporate executive who only cares about results from their incredibly unethical human experimentation

A scav struggling to make ends meet any way they can, which just so happens to be ripping the whumpee apart for their cybernetics and selling XBDs of them

An abusive pimp who doesn’t give a shit what the johns do to his workers while they’re on the clock

A greedy landlord leaving all the whumpee’s belongings on the curb, damning them to homelessness because they couldn’t make rent

Corrupt private police who’d rather harass your whumpee than protect and serve the public

Corporate soldiers razing and looting your whumpee’s home

A hyper-advanced artificial intelligence who views organic humans like ants, and treats them accordingly

I’d love to see more whump writing for this setting that plays to its strengths and uses its themes to the greatest effect.

[novafire-is-thinking]

Thanks for the tag, @figgiforever!

1. Are you named after someone?

Nope.

2. When was the last time you cried?

…I don’t remember.

3. Do you have kids?

^ I don’t plan on ever having kids, so this is my favorite gif to use when I’m asked questions like this. xD

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not really. Not out loud, anyway. >:) I do have a dry sense of humor (think Cyclonus), but it’s not always sarcastic.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Physical: I’m not 100% sure what I notice first. Maybe hair? Ah, but I do know that high-contrast features and angular facial structure catch my attention right away. (My blorbo of blorbos is literally made of sharp angles, what else could one expect? lol)

Non-physical: Vibes. Depth. Intrigue. If they seem too easy for me to read, I tend to dismiss them internally unless they pique my interest later.

6. What's your eye colour?

Dark brown/black.

I like to think that Cybertronians would find this mildly disturbing at first. :P

7. Scary movies or good endings?

Depends on how scary. Pure horror is a no.

I like to have a balance. Scare me half to death during the story, but let the ending mean something.

8. Any special talents?

Does exceptional self-awareness count? xD

I have very few practical, concrete skills, but I like to think I have other things I bring to the table of life that make me stand out a bit.

9. Where were you born?

One of the southern provinces of China

10. What are your hobbies?

Studying people, creative problem-solving, introspecting (I do it enough that it counts 😂), contemplating life and all it’s mysteries and weirdness.

(Yes, this is really the sort of stuff I love doing all day, every day—to the exclusion of actually living life. 🫠)

11. Do you have any pets?

No. I’m just not a huge pet person. Most are too demanding for my liking, and the ones that are low-maintenance are…boring. An exotic pet might be worth the effort though. 🤔

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

How fast can I get in and out of this store without ramming anyone with my cart. 😆

Besides that, I used to ride horses, but I haven’t been able to since I moved a couple of years ago.

13. How tall are you?

5 ft. 3 in. (1,60m)

14. Favourite subject in school?

Anything not required. /hj

(Psych, Sociology, and Astronomy were my favorites. And they’re all electives. lol)

15. Dream job?

I wouldn’t say I have a dream job. It’s more like a “dream state of career existence.”

It involves acquiring a PhD, a medical degree, and a bunch of other degrees with the ultimate goal of bringing my interests together. (Psychology, neuroscience, acoustics, etc.)

I would happily spend the rest of my life learning and doing research, and it would be great to be able to offer something unique to both the scientific world and the medical community. (If I don’t get shunned for coming up with too many far-fetched theories, that is. 🫠)

Tagging: @onewingedsparrow @aecholapis @decepticon-nerd @starscreamboyfriend @benadrylcandlewhack and anyone else who wants to answer!

(Correctly-formatted question form is in the replies to make your lives easier)

[collectorcookie]

Oh wow another north twin ramble

the thing is, i WISH separating the twins could fix them, but i think it was impossible to separate them without pain before, and now it is quite literally physically impossible to separate them at all.

You know how therapists fuck up sometimes and bring back unresolved trauma while a patient is very much just...not ready to confront that and that ends up with the patient infinitely worse than before? I think something similar happened here. Like, they were each other's coping mechanisms, in a way.

And taking away someone's only shield leaves them very vulnerable and makes them lash out.

I think the identity issues also play a huge role here. Like...snow and white did not even think of each other as separate people. It's like they thought of each other as extensions of themselves.

It's the horrors of growing together with a person, your own psyche melting with their own. It's the horrors of realizing too late that, in the comfort you've found, you've sacrificed a part of yourself. It's the slow realization that you never really have been your own person, maybe you still don't want to be that in the first place. And the horrors of realizing that if you try to be, you are hurting yourself too. Like you're ripping your own limbs off of your body.

Thing is, they've always been two different individuals.

You take two semi-immortal babies who look identical to each other and put them in the kill-or-die land. Nobody raised them. Nobody loved them. They only trust each other.

Like it makes sense to me why white wanted to kill himself the second snow wanted to leave him. What meaning does this world have if the only person he ever wants by his side won't be there anymore? Also, he might as well kill snow too because as far as he is concerned, he is snow and snow is him. Completely ignoring all moral stances on killing someone is not okay

And it also makes sense to me why snow would give up on more than half his powers to bring white back. Also completely ignoring all moral circumstances on why necromancy is not okay either.

White forcing death onto snow because he couldn't handle the idea of dying alone and wanted to take back control and snow forcing life onto white because he couldn't handle his sins and also wanted to take back control.

[generation1point5]

Though it’s likely beyond the scope of what Arches set out to convey, the implications given in its epilogue have me thinking of greater patterns and themes that could be explored in the world of Echo. Spoilers below the readmore, given how fresh the public release is.

In the timeline where Cameron did not dodge the shot to the head and persisted as a voice in Devon’s thoughts well beyond Echo reveals interesting twists with regards to the nature of certain places in Echo’s earth. Echo is not the only nexus of active paranormal activity, where the refractions of a given being are captured like snapshots and persist in the minds of others present, echos in a very literal sense of the word. For all intents and purposes, it is a simulacrum devoid of personhood, like an extremely sophisticated machine capable of mimicking all the physical conditions evident in a person that people can relate with. Philosophically, it begs the question of personhood, and identity being beyond the assemblage of thoughts and memories that comprise an individual. But that is not what I am most interested in; I am more fascinated by the potential for other spots like Echo to be found, and the ramifications of their advent.

Narratively, it means that a similar group of people could experience identical things in other isolated pockets around the world, or that there are places that are primed to awaken at the first tragedy to be triggered. To fit within the horror genre, these awakenings must be an isolated affair, affecting a select few who are helpless to avert the circumstances they are plunged into, a local incident of mass hysteria. The Devon that lived on in the absence of Cameron made it his life mission to stop these buildups from occurring anywhere where they might be found, but to my mind this mission felt impossible, if only for the fact that these events are not necessarily performed at an individual level, but can be products of systemic failure. Of course, broadening the scale from the individual to the systemic shifts the genre from horror to apocalypse, but that is precisely what I am moved to think of.

Death on a mass scale is depersonalized for the sheer necessity of being able to process it without a complete breakdown. War has been whitewashed time and again for this very reason, but the realities by which it is known, to those who manage to survive its horrors, know it to be nearly unrivaled in most respects. Twice, the world itself experienced killing on an unprecedented scale in both casualty rate and sheer distances the war had reached. On such a scale, I wonder if it were possible that many Echos, triggered together and with a buildup in the millions, could create a resonance cascade that would eventually spill over into an apocalyptic event.

I already had inklings of these thoughts when considering The Smoke Room, taking place in the time period where a world war raged, where the landscape of continental Europe had been completely turned upside down in an unprecedented outbreak of violence. The Smoke Room as a prequel also makes nods to this dynamic; it puts heavy emphasis on the superstructures and socioeconomic forces which contribute to the conditions that will trigger the inevitable calamity of Echo. I have also made prior assertions that Echo in the thematic sense is a place where the dynamics of the human condition and its fallibility are accelerated to its logical conclusion. Applied on a global scale, many Echos triggered by the fallibility of mankind could arguably come with its own consequences. It is not so different from the realities we find ourselves in today when considering the future of climate change, late-stage capitalism, and the resurgence of reactionary conservative political movements across the globe. Politics, after all, are just the expressions of human psychology applied on a mass scale.

In this respect, I am reminded by the prescience of Dostoyevsky's writings and the near-prophetic conclusions they often reached. With regards to the world of Echo and its own themes and commentary, I believe the nightmare depicted in Crime and Punishment’s epilogue fits the general sentiment for a possible apocalyptic event befalling its earth, as a consequence of unnumbered atrocities building up across the scattered nexuses of the paranormal across its lands. In many ways, it does not feel so different from what could be feasible in our own future today.

Men attacked by them became at once mad and furious. But never had men considered themselves so intellectual and so completely in possession of the truth as these sufferers, never had they considered their decisions, their scientific conclusions, their moral convictions so infallible. Whole villages, whole towns and peoples went mad from the infection. All were excited and did not understand one another. Each thought that he alone had the truth and was wretched looking at the others, beat himself on the breast, wept, and wrung his hands. They did not know how to judge and could not agree what to consider evil and what good; they did not know whom to blame, whom to justify. Men killed each other in a sort of senseless spite. They gathered together in armies against one another, but even on the march the armies would begin attacking each other, the ranks would be broken and the soldiers would fall on each other, stabbing and cutting, biting and devouring each other. The alarm bell was ringing all day long in the towns; men rushed together, but why they were summoned and who was summoning them no one knew. The most ordinary trades were abandoned, because everyone proposed his own ideas, his own improvements, and they could not agree. The land too was abandoned. Men met in groups, agreed on something, swore to keep together, but at once began on something quite different from what they had proposed. They accused one another, fought and killed each other. There were conflagrations and famine. All men and all things were involved in destruction. The plague spread and moved further and further. Only a few men could be saved in the whole world.

[miracleandplagueau]

Ohhh I loved so much your power system!

Some questions:

1-Do the powers have any other evolutions (such as for example ladybug being able to create what she wants), or is it limited to the basic power?

2-Is the turtle more in the Yin side? And are the Metal and Wood kwamis linked to any seasons? (I didn't find it written anywhere)

3-When the wonder is destroyed, does the kwami gets destroyed too or is it like the series where they go to the not physical world?

4-in the drawing you made of water ladybug is she using the dragon potion?

5-Are ALL wonders from the main box able to break each other, or (in the example you gave) for example if the turtle tries to break wonders with the same amount of power (the 5 elements) it can, while if it tries to break the 2 main ones it can't?

Lastly, are you open to ideas of maybe the other potions of the other zodiac wonders you didn't think of?

HII IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT!

I feel like the creation could be fun! The only issue with that is that I can't for the life of me figure out a parallel power for Black Cat. Another destructive power... ehhhh. I was thinking of additional forms though! Something not zodiac-wonder based. One that would make the user even more "animalistic" or give them even more abilities. Ex. Ladybug/Butterfly would be able to fly naturally, Felines would have advanced senses etc.. It's something that came up when I was thinking about more body-horror versions of the heroes for fun. Then again, I'm still thinking when It could be used in the story. It'll remain a concept for now.

Turtle is more on the Yin side, despite the fact that its main power is to create. Not everything can line-up, but If you stretch it far enough you can say that maybe It's to shield from destruction. Metal is generally a declining stage in the Wuxing, which might not be represented well in the Wonder itself, but perhaps rather in its main user - Master Fu. I mean he is really old so like.. Anyway, metal is associated with Autumn, West and overall dry weather while Wood is linked to spring and windy weather! I read all about it on the wikipedia page :)

I haven't thought about it, but I think It'll be better If the Kwami's physical form is destroyed too. Kwamis are cosmic-like entities, but when their link to earth (through artifact) is severed, they can no longer connect to it. Perhaps other Kwamis will be able to communicate with them still, but they will likely not regain the form we know them by. I like the idea that death is permanent though :3c

It was actually just a doodle for the water power-up! I didn't really think about If It would appear or be used. Besides, I havent really thought about effects of the dragon potion on the Balancing Wonders.. I think It'd be a better If only secondary wonders could use it, forcing ladybug to grab an additional superhero when it's needed

That really depends. Turtle would be able to theoretically use its shield to destroy it by continuous smashing, but Fox wouldn't really have the power to break it, the energy blast wouldn't be powerful enough even when an enhancement potion is consumed. When It comes to how hard it is to destroy the main wonders, I definitely think It's going to take much more than just impact due to their connection to literally laws of physics. Besidesz being connected means destroying one destroys both of them so If anyone did manage to destroy ex. Ladybug's, both would fade to dust.

For the last question, yes I am! I think It could be super interesting to see what others could come up with :O Maybe It could even be used in the story better than the ones I had in mind....