#moving out before anything work-related becomes concrete

[myosotisa]

Incident Report 141-1-C

SCP-141 > Incident 141-1-C

Attn. All Black Site ⬛⬛ Personnel, @ghouljams

On ⬛⬛/⬛⬛/20⬛⬛, an unknown civilian female infiltrated SCP Black Site ⬛⬛, the current holding location of SCP-141.

<Begin log> An external camera shows a concrete sidewalk leading to an emergency exit, time stamped ⬛⬛:⬛⬛PM. A young woman, mid 20s to early 30s, approaches the door. Subject, which will henceforth be referred to as SCP-141-e-1, appears distressed – looking around nervously, shifting erratically. SCP-141-e-1 approaches the exterior door and reaches for a keypad beside the frame, inputting a code. They then open the door without triggering the alarm, and enter the facility. An internal camera shows SCP-141-e-1 navigating the service halls while referencing something written on their hand. Another internal camera shows SCP-141-e-1 entering the facility mess hall. They sit down at a table alone, visibly trembling and beginning to cry. They do not move or make any other action until approached by Site personnel. <End log>

Personnel Note on Incident 141-1-C:

We need to find out how they might've had access to those entry codes. Aren't they changed every 8 hours? How the hell did this girl get a working code? And why didn't the alarm go off when they opened the door?

Interview SCP-141-e-1, Video Log:

Note: SCP-141-e-1 had shown no outward hostility and was not yet known to be connected to SCP-141 at the time of interviewing.

<Begin log> Interviewer: Can you please state your name for the record? SCP-141-e-1: I'm not supposed to say my name. Interviewer: No? Why not? SCP-141-e-1: She told me not to. Interviewer: Who is she? SCP-141-e-1: Watcher. O– or she said you might know her as 'Laswell'. Interviewer: Laswell. She told you what to say? Did she give you the instructions on how to get here? SCP-141-e-1: Yes. [They show their hand, which had a poorly drawn map of the facility that has since been smeared due to palm sweat.] Interviewer: I see. Do you know why she asked you to do this? SCP-141-e-1: I– I'm here to deliver a message. Interviewer: A message? What kind of message? SCP-141-e-1: She says that... That the 141 is needed elsewhere in order to complete a mission. And that it would be in everyone's best interests to let them out. Interviewer: Did she say anything about the mission, or what they are hoping to accomplish? SCP-141-e-1: [They are growing visibly anxious.] N- no. All she said was it was for the 'greater good'. And... She said if I had to, I could threaten that... Interviewer: What? What did she threaten? SCP-141-e-1: She said that they will be leaving the facility. Whether by being released, or by force. Interviewer: I see. And how did she contact you? How did you receive this information? SCP-141-e-1: She– [They begin to hyperventilate.] I don't know – She was everywhere and she was in my head and she knew things about me that no one should and I just... Interviewer: Hey, it's okay. You need to calm down. SCP-141-e-1: No! You don't understand! She could've ruined everything– [SCP-141-e-1 lunges for the interviewer, knocking over the camera in the process. There is the sound of a struggle before more people enter the room, and SCP-141-e-1 is supposedly restrained.] <End log>

Observation Note SCP-141-e-1-a:

12 Hours Since SCP-141-e-1 entered Black Site ⬛⬛ - SCP-141-e-1 becomes increasingly hostile to any and all attempts to talk about what Laswell is blackmailing them with, what she is capable of, or if she is still in contact with them. They have been sedated several times over the course of their containment to keep them from causing physical harm to themself or others.

Observation Note SCP-141-e-1-b:

24 Hours Since SCP-141-e-1 entered Black Site ⬛⬛ - SCP-141-e-1 is now displaying a form of retrograde amnesia. They have no memory of infiltrating the facility, being interviewed, what they were instructed to say, or the fact that they were blackmailed. Any attempt to remind them of Laswell or anything related to SCP-141 is forgotten shortly after. This behavior is concurrent with previously known data of the anomalous properties of SCP-141-e. All other medical and memory retention tests come back with average results.

SCP-141-e-1 exhibits no other anomalous traits beyond the memory tampering.

SCP-141-e-1 has been released on their own recognizance after being administered Class C amnestics. They will continue to be discreetly monitored for the next ⬛⬛ months in case contact is made again by SCP-141-e, or any other member of SCP-141.

Memo to Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ regarding Incident 141-1-C, ⬛️⬛/⬛️⬛/20⬛️⬛️:

Are we going to let them out for this mission Laswell wants them for? Should we increase security in regards to her threat? It might be wise to schedule an interview with SCP-141-a about the incident. It's likely he already knows it happened – given their... connection.

Request for additional interviews with SCP-141-a: Pending.

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Based on the SCP-141 AU by @ghouljams, which I adore and think about often. See more here: SCP AU tag

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I get that Helluva Boss and Hazbin don't and aren't planned to have much overlap, and for the most part I appreciate that separation and the way that it makes the world seem that bit larger.

The one exception being this: I am convinced that Angel Dust and Fizzarolli are at least acquaintances, and quite possibly friends.

No, listen, hear me out.

Angel supposedly died in the forties. We don't know exactly when he was picked up by Valentino, but I think it's fair to assume he's been working in Hell's sex work/stripping/porn scene for at least a few decades before he joins the Hotel.

Fizz's backstory is obviously more detailed. We know that he was either born in the Pride Ring or came there at a very young age, because he was already working there as a circus performer when he was a kid.

By the time Helluva Boss starts, however, he's obviously moved on to operating primarily in the Greed and Lust rings, as Mammon's star performer and Asmodeus's boyfriend platonic PA who he occasionally has totally unemotional bang-sessions with.

In between these two points is the accident, which seems to have happened when Fizz was in his late teens. The last time he saw Blitz before that night in Ozzies.

So, here's where the only concrete canon 'evidence' for my theory kicks in: in Oops, Blitz claims that he and Fizz have “been in each other's relative vicinity twice in the last fifteen years” (referring to Ozzies and just now when they bumped into each other in Greed).

However in The-Mammon-Episode-With-Too-Long-A-Title, everyone can't stop talking about how Fizz has consistently won Mammon's clown pageant every time he's entered. For the past ten years.

That gives us five whole years of Fizz's life that are completely unaccounted for. We know that he started this period off in the Pride Ring with his circus destroyed and a brand-new permanent disability to get used to, and ended it in Greed working for Mammon, but we have no idea what happened in between.

So, here is where evidence ends and rampant speculation begins.

As a former child performer, Fizz is unlikely to have had much experience doing anything else. In fact, given that they were travelling with the circus, it seems unlikely that him and Blitz would even have ended up with a steady education.

Blitz obviously managed to found his own business after the accident, but Blitz had been dreaming of doing just that since he was a young child, and it was his Dad who was actually handling the business-side of the circus, so I don't think he's a fair comparison. Fizz probably spent his early years assuming he'd just keep performing forever, and so it makes sense that he'd go back to that.

On the other hand, Fizz had just lost all his limbs, and would have been having to adjust to his prosthetics. (Most likely lower quality prosthetics that he ended up with later, since those seem to be a gift from Ozzie.)

His clown act was mostly physical. Acrobatics require a sense of balance and spatial awareness. Balloon animals and juggling require fine motor control. Literally replacing all four of your limbs— even with magical Hell-prosthetics— is going to cause issues with all these skills, at least temporarily.

So. What industry in the Pride Ring is related to entertainment, but doesn't necessarily require any complex acrobatics, and would most likely welcome a fresh amputee with severe facial scarring? (For fetish reasons, if nothing else?)

I'm not saying Fizz would have done sex work, since he seems so uncomfortable with the idea, but stripping? Maybe doing some soft core porn? I could see that. He's clearly not too fussed about adult entertainment in general, because he's totally okay performing at Ozzies.

He's also probably insanely handsome by imp standards. Like, dude ends up becoming a major sex symbol throughout the rings and has the embodiment of Lust falling madly in love with him. (Plus, as a kid and teenager, he got more attention as a performer than Blitz— the guy who briefly dated a succubus pop-star and now has an ars-goetia prince begging him for a pity-fuck at every opportunity.)

So, given all that, and given his future success, it makes sense that he'd have been popular. Which immediately puts him in range of one of the Pride ring's other hugely popular adult performers: Angel Dust.

And I could see these two getting along. Since Angel is more of a sex worker whereas Fizz is more of a performer, and since Angel would probably be mainly catering to sinner demons and Fizz to hellborn (though no doubt there'd be some overlap), chances are they wouldn't be in direct competition with each other.

They have similar senses of humour and similar personalities. They both like small, cute animals. They both genuinely care about the quality of their performances, even in circumstances where they might not be expected to. They both have a tendency to mask their emotions with sex-related jokes.

Plus there's the fucking angst potential of Angel befriending Fizz when he was an independent performer, and then watching— helplessly— as his friend starts talking about this new job offer with Mammon.

Like people have already made posts about how Angel might feel watching Fizz's performance in Two Minutes Notice and comparing it to his own situation with Valentino, but fuck imagine it from the other end of Angel watching his friend fall into that situation.

Trying to talk him out of it during the initial love-bombing phase and getting told he's just jealous. Not even being able to visit Fizz when it all goes wrong because sinners aren't allowed to leave the Pride Ring.

Also, as a secondary detail, imagine Angel Dust finding out that his new friend's life-changing injuries were caused by Blitz, seemingly a pretty well-known figure in the Pride Ring.

Imagine Blitz finding out that Hell's most famous porn actor has genuine beef with him and having absolutely no idea why.

(Millie, Moxxie and Loona— based on the Verosika thing— all assume it was a bad breakup, despite Blitz insisting otherwise.)

[bylerpolls]

For those who believe gay mike makes more sense/ ties up more loose ends, would you be satisfied if the show went the queer/unlabeled route (which IMO is more likely for a confused boy in the 80s than Mike using a specific term), but framed it in a way that could fit in with both gay Mike and bi Mike (especially if he has a heavy male lean) in which:

1) He genuinely did have a puppy crush on El in Season 1. He didn’t use El as a beard or go to her because he confused platonic feelings for romantic ones. They were romantic (lots of people who identify as gay now have had genuine early childhood crushes on the opposite sex, and obviously this would work if you see him as bi too).

2) In Season 2 he genuinely had a crush on both El and Will, but since he was already best friends with Will, he didn’t realize this. The Snowball dance was fully sincere. He wasn’t hiding behind El or anything.

3) In Season 3, during puberty is where everything went haywire. He found himself being more physically and romantically drawn to Will than El. Whether or not he has the hypothetical ability to be attracted to other girls is not even the point. It’s El or Will for Mike. And the point is that the gay feelings were overwhelming. Internalized homophobia was at all time high. Maybe he still liked El, but the puppy crush feelings were waning and he was realizing new things about himself.

4) In Season 4, his queer awakening becomes more pronounced, and he doesn’t like El like that anymore. He’s fully in love with Will AND checking out other boys. Again, Mike wouldn’t have to explain whether he’s ever liked girls before. The point is the queerness. The point is that he feels broken. The point is that he worries everyone will hate him.

With this, Mike could say he genuinely liked El at the beginning while also detailing his feelings for boys/Will in a way that can fit in with either theory. He doesn’t label himself specifically. The audience can interpret the nuances however they want. Mike’s sexuality still gets focus, so it’s not like he just moves from being El’s bf to Will’s. But it doesn’t bog itself down in the weeds of trying to put a concrete label to human sexuality. Many gay kids can relate to his story, many bi kids can relate to his story, and so can unlabeled kids. Thoughts on this?

A) Yes, I’m a gay Mike truther, but I’d be fully satisfied with something like this

B) I’m a bi Mike truther, but I’d be fully satisfied with something like this

C) I truly don’t care as long as he loves Will!

D) No, I’m a gay Mike truther and believe this would be a cop-out. He needs to be specifically, unquestionably gay for his story to be satisfying and make sense.

E) I’m a bi Mike truther and this wouldn’t be satisfying to me. Bi Mike is important to me and makes more sense with the narrative of the show.

F) I’d be fine with something like this, but with a few tweaks to make it make sense (say what those tweaks are!) But it’s overall fine for him to be unlabeled if his sexuality is given proper focus

[ozzgin]

Dearest Ozzgin, do you have any tips on how you stay motivated ? Everytime I go to write something I feel majorly stumped.

(P.s I love your work!)

During the pandemic I struggled to keep up with my academic studies, and so I got myself a self-help book about excelling in science: A mind for numbers by Barbara Oakley. I'm mentioning this because it ended up offering great insight on how to stay focused, motivated, and disciplined, regardless of what you're doing, and I use the advice to this day, even for my hobby writing. This is a mix of everything: tips from the book, other advice I've found online, and what helps me in particular.

Find a schedule. I personally find it easier to start an activity once it becomes part of my routine. It's something my brain anticipates and prepares for. Now, it doesn't have to be an exact timetable. But you can have a look at your current schedule, and come up with a rough interval. For example, you might have more time in the evening, or maybe you have a burst of energy in the morning. Pick a time when you're not too tired and try to stick to it most days.

Focus on the process, not achievement. So, you've established your routine. What did you set as an achievement? Concrete goals, such as finishing up a story, or writing a given number of words? While this isn't a bad idea, it can sometimes contribute to that stumped feeling you've mentioned. I once read an article from a professor who suggested the following: pick your time window, and focus on just doing something. In that hour you've dedicated to writing, you can write as planned, or you can sketch up the characters, create visuals, build an outline, draw a timeline, collect bullet points to elaborate later on, and so on. Maybe you're not particularly inspired at the moment; don't let it stress you out, just work around it instead.

Don't force yourself. Our brain uses two different processes for thinking - the focused and diffuse modes. In order to solve a problem or task, it's ideal to be in a focused mode. Your brain is actively building connections and coming up with solutions. A neat little detail, however, is that your brain doesn't stop working once you move on from a problem. It continues fiddling with it in the background: that's the diffuse mode. It's why you sometimes have a sudden eureka moment, despite not actively thinking of said topic. If you're struggling with your story and can't come up with anything, step away. Do activities that trigger your diffuse mode, like sleeping, listening to music, walking, cycling, drawing, taking a shower or bath, meditating. Let your mind fiddle with it freely, give it some time, and try again later.

Don't worry about how you write. You don't have to sit down and write entire paragraphs. I used to have an idea for a story, then I'd struggle to come with connectors for said idea. What happens before that? How do I begin? I'd end up wasting a lot of time writing the premise instead of the actual thought I originally had. Now I just write down whatever I feel like, while I have the inspiration, and fill the rest later. Even if it's just a sentence, or a concept, scribble whatever comes to mind and patch it up afterwards. It'll be easier to continue when you have a starting point to build around.

Small steps. Lastly, it's okay to take breaks, and it's perfectly fine to have days, weeks, or even months when you're simply just not in the mood. There are other ways in which you can build your story. You can draw the characters, build world maps, watch movies related to your topics, create fitting playlists, all that jazz. Be patient with yourself and don't forget why you're (presumably) writing in the first place - because it brings you joy. :)

[owlespresso]

adrenaline lunge blade x reader tags: fem!reader, spice beneath the cut, dubious consent, Blade does unspeakable things with the hilt of his sword, reader is implied to be a reincarnation of someone Blade once knew

The fight was finished in a flash. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. It passes through your vision like old timey strips of film.

Your blade slices through the flesh of your foes like a hot knife through butter. The blood is warm on your hands, on your face. You might be covered in it, honestly. From head to heel. Maybe it’s the adrenaline that warms your body. Drenched in sweat which cools under the cold gales which slice across the muddy plane. The overcast skies seem to coalesce with the smoke. You breathe it in, become it, cloak and cutlass billowy blurs as you slice and slice and slice. 

All at once, there’s silence. Eerie quiet. The world comes back to you in stages. Awareness stumbling fumbling back into your body like a metal pipe tossed down a flight of stairs. Concrete. Concrete stairs, hard and grey. 

The only figure standing upright in the bleak landscape is the other mercenary you deployed with. Blade. A Stellaron Hunter, a trained killer whose quiet and frigid demeanor have made him an easy, though unsettling traveling partner. It’s been a week since you’ve deployed, traveling across this planet’s barren, war-torn plains in search of some sort of gadget or gizmo for them. You weren’t entirely paying attention when it was explained to you, and you don’t exactly care what it does or why they want it. The Stellaron Hunters have a horrendous reputation amongst the stars, but they pay exceedingly well. That’s all you can ask for.

It’s not like it’s difficult work. You clean up the unfortunate remnants of some Abundance-related invaders and progress towards whatever thing they’re looking for. No one knows the deadened valleys and ancient ruins and impact craters of this forsaken planet like you do. It’s an easy payday, and the company isn’t as obnoxious as you had at first feared.

He speaks only when he has to and follows commands with mechanical perfection. He stares at you, when he likely thinks you’re asleep during the night’s small hours. In fairness, though, there isn’t much else in the wasteland to look at. Maybe he’s just ensuring you don’t slip away before fulfilling your end of the bargain.

He’s looking at you now, a few yards away. His eyes are blown wide, letting you see the candle wick of his irises in perfect clarity. His bloodied lips are slightly parted. His sword is soaked in similar crimson, spiderweb veins of bright gold gleaming underneath all the viscera. You open your mouth to call out to him, but he’s already moving in your direction, taking long, measured strides across the field—until he reaches the halfway point. 

He breaks into a sprint. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as he closes the gap between you. He’s not there, and then he is, with a suddenness you hadn’t thought possible.

Blade bowls into you, rough hands shoving you into the grey dirt. Your back thunks against the cold, hard ground. Maybe you shout, it’s hard to tell over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. 

“Blade—” you try, as he drops down. His knees land on either side of your hips, stranding you between those thick thighs. You swallow, eyes blown wide. The iron grip you have on your cutlass's handle doesn't wane, but you keep still, unsure if rending him in twain would truly do anything. You’ve seen him regenerate and recover from wounds that should have killed him instantly—what can you do? “We’re on the same team—” Surely, the mara hasn’t rendered him incapable of recognizing you? 

Where is his handler, the wine-haired woman you’d met for a flash few seconds before embarking? You should have asked her more—should have insisted she tell you how to deal with him when he rages out of control, but any thoughts or pre-death regrets rattle out of your skull as he sets his teeth to the bottom of your jaw, a calloused hand gripping your hip and squeezing.

“I knew it from the start,” his lips ghost against your skin as he speaks, tongue and teeth carving a raw path down your throat. Your free hand sinks into the broad, firm flesh of his shoulder, wrinkles in his jacket. “It was the way you smelled—gunpowder and chamomile.” He mutters in between bites and open-mouthed kisses. The adrenaline from the fight filters into something carnal and hot, settling low in your stomach as you twitch beneath him.

You’re left to flounder as he undoes your belt, shoves your black trousers down to your knees. His fingers pet your cunt through your panties, black and plain and unsexy. A part of you feels a rush of completely misplaced self-consciousness, but that too is shorted out along with the rest of your thoughts as he presses back close to you, idly toying with your folds and clit whilst his mouth paints spit and blood across your skin. The wetness chills under the rolling winds, free hand dipping under your shirt to squeeze and palm at your stomach, as though desperate to touch any part of you.

You take in a shuddering gasp as his warm, warm, warm tongue presses against the gusset of your panties. He licks you like a fucking dog through the wetted fabric, hands kneading your thighs tight enough to bruise. He breathes you in, long and shuddering, lets you feel the press of his face as he noses as deep into your cunt as he can get. A maniac, a madman—your pulse skyrockets, breaths becoming pants and pants becoming something deeper. Sobs? You can’t tell, anymore. 

“I knew it was you,” he repeats, softer this time, voice dragged by something tender and aching. A misplaced fondness you know not what to do with. You’ve never met him before accepting this mission, and you’re sure you would remember someone like him.

His thumbs hook underneath the sides, a thin strand of slick sticking to the cotton as he drags them down your thighs. Just enough for him to touch your skin, crowding in between your thighs. His eyes flutter shut, the very picture of a man savoring a meal. Molten strokes roll up your spine with every brush of his tongue. Your thighs snap shut around either side of his head and he moans, sound so rich and raunchy you can hardly believe it came from him. Blade, who you’ve known for little more than a week and some, so stoic and still you hardly considered him alive.

It’s with starting gentility that the tips of his fingers nudge your panties to the side. They brush over your wettening folds, thumb seeking your clit while his tongue dives deep towards your entrance, circling its very edge. You shout, you howl, you whine into the empty air, hips writhing and rolling in his brutal, unyielding grasp.

“Blade! Are we really doing this here!?” You’re more irate than afraid. You tap your ankle against the back of his shoulder, giving a surprised shout when he grabs the joint and tugs you even closer. Doing this here, steeped in blood and surrounded by the red strewn bodies of allies and foes alike, is an unsafe and perhaps unsanitary prospect. But you are not in the practice of making decisions safe or sane. 

“Do you see anywhere else to do it?” Blade replies, annoyed, not even lifting his head. You feel his lips against your clit and folds as he talks, warm breath brushing against the sopping skin. 

And fuck it, really. There’s nothing else you can do. Might as well let the sensation wash the shame away. Not that you have much of a choice. 

Those calloused fingers pet meanly at your walls, run figure-eights up and down until he hits a spot that has your back arching, toes curling as you scream to the skies. He wrings your pleasure out of you, fucks you on his fingers with a dexterity and skill he has no right to possess. Blade, cold and steel and empty before whatever brought this fit on.

You’re about to cum, you realize, nearly devastated. That tight, succulent heat churns in your lower tummy, free hand fisting in his hair. How has he managed to push you this far so quickly? You’re almost annoyed all over again. A guy with a personality this shit shouldn’t know how to do this. He shouldn’t be getting any action at all!

“Blade,” you snap, and he stops moving. Long digits leave your cunt with an obscene, wet sound. A sense of cold emptiness cloys at the space where he was, but you push the longing down in favor of catching your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you lift yourself onto your elbows, beginning to shift away from him.

Before you can even squirm an inch, he’s yanking you close again. Is he toying with you?

“Blade,” you grumble. “Don’t fuck with me.” Your ankle digs into the back of his shoulder in warning. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t release you, either. Silence settles between the both of you, only interrupted by his deep breathing. “Fine,” you grimace, surrendering yourself to his whims for the time being. The uncertainty of what he’ll do next makes your skin crawl, but he’s clearly intent on keeping you in his grasp—and angering him is the last thing you want to do when he’s behaving so unpredictably.

There’s a metallic clink. You take in a deep, stuttering breath, steeling yourself for the oncoming press of his cock.

Except it’s too cold, too ovaline to be human. Thicker than a finger but perhaps too thin to be his cock. Swallowing another whimper, you glance back down—just in time to watch him feed the hilt of his sword into your aching, clenching cunt. The sob he wrenches from you is so deep and guttural that it burns—you’re used to blood and death and carnage, but something about this feels so filthy. Near sacrilegious, despite your complete lack of faith. The blade isn’t sheathed. It’s cutting blood gashes into his fingers and palms, scarlet bleeding onto dirt. He doesn’t react. His eyes are blown wide and his candlewick irises smothered into a bright ring around his pupils. That manic gaze remains fixed on where your legs remain splayed open and twitching for him, gasping for breath. 

“Blade, are you fucking kidding me—” you must be making some sort of stupid expression, eyes wide and mouth agape. He offers no remorse or shame, leaves you to listen to the lewd squelching that fills the air as he drives the hilt further inside of you. Your cunt squeezes around it tight, and you drop your arm over your eyes. Hot tears roll down your cheeks and you blink—when did you start crying? There’s no space to think properly, not when he pulls the weapon back and shoves it forward, beginning a rough pace that absolutely knocks the breath out of you. “Blade, what are you—”

A firm hand seizes your wrist and wrenches your arm to the ground. His fingers lace through yours in some strange simulacrum of tenderness.

“Eyes on me, girl,” he snarls, but you hardly hear it over the thrumming in your ears.

You squint as light floods your vision, nothing bleak skies for miles and miles. Bleak skies and you and a madman, intent on watching your pleasure just as much as supplying it. It’s as though his universe has boiled down to a single point, bitten lips falling open around pants.

A roughened, calloused thumb bats at your clit, rolling over the bundle of nerves in a series of unkind, jerking circles that make you writhe. The feeling is white hot, unsteady pleasure slipping easily into pain as he works you over the hilt of his sword. 

You cum on it, too. With tears running down your hot cheeks, your entire body tingling like an exposed nerve. You’re not sure how long you lay there. The sky remains apathetic and unchanging as the cool air fills your lungs. His touch leaves you, bare and empty. The sweat that slicks your skin cools underneath the rolling breezes. 

The lunacy is gone from his gaze, now, replaced by something bitter and stoic. 

“Do not look at me like that. You were the one that did this,” you snap at him, and he lowers his gaze. Almost ashamed. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he fixes your clothes, sliding your panties and trousers back on with hands that have somehow already healed, gaping gashes replaced by perfect, new skin. You watch his fingers work, looping your belt back into place over your hips. The action, compared with the silence, is oddly and uncomfortably intimate. You don’t try and piece together why he does it, nor do you try and understand what just happened. It was excess adrenaline leftover from battle, you reason, and don’t peer beyond that.

You push yourself to your feet as soon as you feel presentable. He doesn’t help you (even though he by all means should), but you like it better that way. The two of you amble through the field of corpses, each step making you painfully aware of the cooling wetness which lingers between your legs. A new ache hounds you between the crux of your thighs.

“You’re taking care of dinner tonight,” you bite out. He hums, though you can’t tell whether it’s a noise of agreement. Just one of acknowledgement. His footfalls thud heavily behind you. You pretend you don’t feel the white hot of his gaze burrowing between your shoulders. In a few hours, none of this will matter. You focus on the empty horizon, amble towards the extraction point on wobbly fawn’s legs.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Can I ask what would happen if Carisle got ask by concerned parents and teachers about his apparent incestuous children. Would the cullens leave forks? They kinda need to be away from controversy and with how his children are known as the incest kids I imagine that become impossible.

He Wouldn't

The thing about the Cullens is that there's a) no concrete proof of any of this b) they're not biologically related and all around the same age.

Jessica states it as if it's simply known among the student populace. They're obviously 'together' but I imagine it's in a way that can be plausibly denied to adults/teachers who have a lot of shit going on to really notice/believe the Cullen kids are dating each other without seeing them suck face in the hallways.

Then, if they do, you have what Bella brings up. Bella's fine with it because they're not actually related and didn't meet until fairly late in their childhoods (I believe they claimed some of the Cullens were adopted only in their late teens). Is it weird? Sure, but it's not like it's blood relatives so why you judge so harshly, Jessica.

Most probably won't be as understanding as Jessica but it is one of those things that would get people going "huh" before they push a red button.

Point being it's gray zone enough no one's going to call CPS and if they do CPS probably isn't going to do anything about it (as the Cullens otherwise look like a model home and chances are when you get put back in the system you end up somewhere worse and the kids will all be out soon anyways).

But Alright, He Does

Depends.

Something like this I imagine they sit through as if they leave immediately it really starts looking weird. They put on a great show for CPS and CPS assumes the Cullens are likely victims of bullying due to their having moved in, their general strangeness, the fact that they're all adopted, so on and so forth.

After the investigation wraps up, the Cullens leave, Carlisle claiming to work that the atmosphere just isn't good for his kids in the town anymore and everyone kind of looking sideways at that.

[accirax]

initial thoughts on DCAS episode 17

so it's definitely gonna be something big and flashy. i just still hope that it doesn't have any impact on who actually wins.

see, the funny thing is that i genuinely don't think Derek has actually done anything wrong...? like, afaik, he wasn't trying to dismiss Trevor or belittle his feelings, he just... had a crush on Kristal and acted like it. am i misremembering something? or is Trevor just being really petty for no reason? (this isn't Trevor hate; i actually find it quite impressive that i still root for Trevor despite him like objectively being in the wrong. that's just the silly billy rizz i suppose.)

"i started thinking that because of you! but, if your character ends you in a place where you do realize that what people think matters, maybe i'll believe that too, because i care what you think."

this was a nice save from Connor.

so the Sharma family has one daughter who's 31, and one daughter who's <18? that's a pretty big age gap (minimum 14 years), though obviously not an impossible one. i wonder if things just shook out that way, or if they aren't (fully) biologically related?

what did she have against Hunter? hilarious if she only wants her bi daughter to date a women. or maybe she was just a big tessally shipper.

oh this is really sad actually. wild that his parents haven't talked to him in two years, but were willing to send him a letter for the show???

WHO THE FUCK IS EXCITED TO SEE YUL?????

Grett is so cool.

🎶Me encanta el poder y no perder--

REAL ("Connor, you can't be this stupid" echoes in the background)

BRO WHAT--

MY FIRST INSTINCT WAS THAT SHE WAS GOING TO SNAP HIS NECK

WHAT THE FUCK. okay so even a day later i am still reeling from this obviously but i do want to say that it's hilarious that Riya can get directly drop kicked by a horse so hard that it flings her like 60 ft up into the air and be completely fine, but Connor falls off of a horse and nearly gets permanently paralyzed. sucks to be an OLD MAN ig 🔥🔥🔥 (/j)

also i can't believe the break Connor's legs challenge was foreshadowing oh my god--

and that was when Riya knew

she fucked up

this sequence is so melodramatic it's honestly kind of hilarious. also Jake is ready to throttle a bitch.

this was a really nice acting moment, even if the context surrounding it wasn't the best. although, even then, was this move even a bad writing decision? i kind of want to say it was, just because of how out of nowhere it was, but i don't think it was actually a bad choice. like, yes, i too am disappointed that they "gave Riya plot armor" in not having her eliminated this episode, because i don't really think we need to spend more time unpacking her deal.

however, if they're going to keep Riya around for another episode (or even until the finale), i think that giving her another concrete thing to be a part of is a good idea. it'll certainly keep her character memorable for several seasons to come. and, i like how this parallels her tossing Aiden off that cliff in the s2 finale! in that situation, she had just become a villain, and purposefully endangered Aiden with no remorse. this time, she's been a villain for the entire season, but is now forced into the position of hurting Connor on accident and being full of remorse for it. being a villain is exactly what people expect for her, and Riya is nothing if not what people expect. it's a real moment of facing exactly what you've become.

to be honest, even a day after watching the episode, i'm still reeling so hard from what happened that i find it difficult to parse out exactly how i feel about this episode. i may wind up changing my mind, and, who knows, i might even change my mind again after that. all i know is that. we wildin. All Stars is such a season.

given how this game works, i'd honestly be more worried about her sudden athletic prowess. but, a threat's a threat either way.

why did they have him say this directly before Tribal if he cast his vote on Grett? i guess it's foreshadowing for Ally being threatening later?

i mean, i'm not too surprised. if it wasn't going to be Riya, it makes sense that they would eliminate Grett as the biggest threat. plus, Grett was being too obviously awesome. put her on the "best to never win" list.

o7 slay queen

i expect nothing less... than a Jake/Ally/Connor finale, lmao.

what an episode! i'm really glad i wasn't at all spoiled on this one, 'cause i think it was important to go in truly blind to the what-the-fuck-iness of this plot. unfortunately, with Riya still in the game (for now), i do feel like next episode's boot is going to be pretty predictable, but... i've been saying that Riya's elimination is really obvious for the past two episodes now, so, maybe i'll be wrong again!!!

[bleachbleachbleach]

[Bleach 129]

I am the kind of person who will latch onto one thing one character said one time and gnaw on it compulsively like it’s some kind of diction dog toy. These panels are fairly innocuous, relative to what comes immediately before and after them (that is, Matsumoto’s dream about her and Ichimaru’s origin story, followed by news of Hinamori’s jailbreak). But they’re also the first time we see Hitsugaya and Matsumoto really interact. 

In fact, we see Hitsugaya interact with Ichimaru (throwing out death threats) and Matsumoto interact with Hinamori (handing over contraband) before we get to see Hitsugaya and Matsumoto interacting with each other. We’re being introduced to them with these two other important people already in the mix.

What might we glean about Hitsugaya and Matsumoto, before we get to the Ichimaru bit? Across the board, Hitsugaya’s speech generally isn’t that formal, because he’s a boy in a shounen manga and he’s also the boss, so there’s less of a requirement, but I also think there’s an intimacy being shorthanded here. He could be less incredibly casual, pull a Byakuya and just use plain neutral language to address his subordinate, Matsumoto, but Hitsugaya also just did an entire ream of paperwork while she stress-napped in the office. He tells her, 構わん (kamawan, it doesn’t matter), using a shortened/masculine/superior’s form of 構わない (kamawanai). When describing Ichimaru and Hinamori’s altercation, he uses the phrase モメ方すりゃ(momekatasurya), the ending of which is a shortened/masculine/colloquial version of -すれば (sureba). Additionally, this phrase is made more casual/emphatic by using katakana instead of kanji [揉め becomes モメ]. We don’t know them yet, but we’re being asked to know them. We have about thirty seconds and two lines to do so: Syllables drop out and close the distance between them.

Despite this, Hitsugaya still seems to have a dim understanding of who Ichimaru might be to Matsumoto. His full line goes something like, 

Seeing your cohortmate and junior in conflict like that would probably be trying for you, too.

Hitsugaya refers to neither Ichimaru nor Hinamori by name. Instead, Ichimaru is "douki," or cohortmate, and Hinamori is "kouhai" (junior cohort). Which, knowing what we know about Ichimaru and Matsumoto’s whole deal, feels like a somewhat inadequate way to describe it. XDDD The whole sentence is couched in the epistemic mood; Hitsugaya seems a little unwilling to assert anything concrete. Maybe Hitsugaya is trying to split the difference and be sympathetic while also not making assumptions, hence "douki" instead of “friend,” or “past lover” or “your version of a Hinamori, maybe...?”

This is where I go full doggy toy, because also like, what if we take Hitsugaya at his word here and accept that this is not as convoluted as it sounds, because douki is actually a meaningful and relevant relation within the Gotei? 

The Viz translation is more natural than what I offered above (I mean, outside of the decision to refer to Ichimaru as "Gin" in the same breath as Hinamori is “Hinamori”―bold move, Captain Tôshirô!). "Your classmate Gin" still feels weird, though, because in an English-speaking context that kind of makes it sound like Hitsugaya’s throwing it back all the way to like, school classes at the Academy. But you can have Work Douki, as many large companies will welcome an incoming "class" of new employees who are entering the company at the same time. ...Of course, Matsumoto and Ichimaru did not actually… join the Gotei at the same time, either. Maybe they’re close enough, in the scheme of the thousands of years a shinigami might work for the Gotei. Though this would imply that Hitsugaya’s douki are RenjiKiraHinamori(Rukia), which I doubt is something he’d claim.

So I’m kind of taken by the idea that douki could have a looser literal meaning in the Gotei, and is one of the forms of relation that aims to capture a shinigami’s social affinities outside of one’s official seated rank.

Usually, the Gotei is all about rank, rank, rank. But we know there’s also Seireitei vs. Rukongai; there’s gender; there’s degree of nobility; there’s age. These things all matter―if they didn’t, we wouldn’t have a Shinigami Women’s Association; Hitsugaya’s life would probably be easier; the Kuchiki would pitch an absolute fit because of course degrees of nobility matter. Maybe having douki helps recapture the age/experience aspect of a shinigami’s understanding of self/relation, which might otherwise be wholly subsumed by rank.

If douki really is a meaningful aspect of shinigami life, Matsumoto could, say, have a social identity with the 10th, with the VCs, with the SWA, with her douki, and also with her miscellaneous friends. I like the idea that she would get to have all five of these things! 

(…All that’s missing is NON-WORK FRIENDS/LOVED ONES…)

I’ve been saying "cohortmate" as a translation for douki, but in my experience in the United States, the cohortmate relationship isn’t quite as compulsorily ride or die as douki are “supposed” to be. For example, there’s a 2004 article in The Japan Times that explains douki as a

"cross between sibling and comrade — the unwritten agreement is that all douki will stick together, whatever happens. / They work together, organize drinking parties, invite each other to their weddings, keep in touch and communicate for decades, often until retirement."

Given that it’s Ichimaru we’re talking about, though, it’s sad, because I don’t think any of those things are actually true of Ichimaru and  Matsumoto’s relationship in the Gotei, except perhaps in the unwritten whisper that it should have been. They should have cultivated this support, shared these memories, expressed this loyalty—they should be ride or die for each other. But they don’t have that—at least, not in any material way Matsumoto feels.

Because in the end, Matsumoto doesn’t know who Ichimaru is, either:

[Bleach 129]

Douki...? / Do you really― That Gin ― Ichimaru-taichou ―

More specifically, she says Ichimaru-taichou no koto (市丸隊長のこと), which softens the object of her thought. She’s talking about Ichimaru, but in the amorphous sense of the kind of person Ichimaru is, his essence, things he’s done, the general idea of him. The question comes out of Hinamori’s accusation about Ichimaru killing Aizen, but I don’t think Matsumoto’s really focused on the hard facts of a murder mystery. She’s asking after her captain’s read of who Ichimaru is. Which is a related but, I think, meaningfully different line of inquiry. 

After all, we don’t actually have a murder mystery to solve, because Aizen isn’t dead.

What we do have are a spiderweb of tested loyalties (between Ichimaru and Kira, Captain to VC; between Kira and Hinamori, as douki; between Kira and Matsumoto, as VCs; Hinamori and Hitsugaya, as childhood friends; Hinamori and Aizen, not as her Captain but ~"as a man"). But not, notably, between Matsumoto and Hitsugaya, even though Hitsugaya and Ichimaru end up very much at odds.

From the beginning, Hitsugaya summons this idea of "douki" into the room, and perhaps that word clarifies all the things Ichimaru is not. 

Maybe it’s then that Matsumoto knew this was going to be the last time she addressed those thoughts in the form of a question.

[Bleach 180]

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Job Hunt

Sydney and Vanessa look for jobs to build up money to open a diner, but as Vanessa starts losing hope, Sydney contemplates going down a path he had hoped to never do again.

Time Frame: Post Security Breach, simultaneous with Help Wanted 2, Pre Ruin, Sydney POV

------------------------------

.

Running the household was a new experience. There were faint impressions of memories about running a base of operations as a mercenary, maintaining weapons of all sorts, keeping contact with people in similar lines of work to make sure there were clients and contracts to be had, that money flowed to where it was supposed to go, and targets were hit if a double cross happened. Nothing concrete to grab onto and ‘see’ clearly, just fragments of visions of the past and faint recollections of similarities to things he did now while helping Vanessa.

“Gregory! Don’t be late for the bus!” Vanessa called out from the kitchen as she put together a meal to pack up in a Glamrock Freddy Fazbear lunch box, “If you miss it, you’re riding with Sydney while he takes Alex to work!”

“If he rides with me, I’m drilling him on functions in C#!” Alex declared, walking in while straightening his tie as part of his uniform as a security guard. Sydney poured out a cup of coffee for him while Vanessa slid a plate of eggs and toast in his general direction. His brother had offered to return his position of day guard to him once they had all pretty much settled into routine in their shared house. Sydney had considered it for a while before passing on it; Alex had gained a lot more independence and power of choice when he took over as the day guard at Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties. He wasn’t going to take that from his little brother.

That left the problem of getting new jobs up to him and Vanessa. Their savings would last a few months more, but after that it would become a strain on Alex to carry them through if they didn’t find something soon.

Probably why he’d caught Alex snooping through familiar dark web channels and only barely stopped himself from ripping the computer out of his hands. The amount of money the two of them had stashed away in accounts for their previous lives would have comfortably handled everything and even funded Gregory’s idea of opening their own restaurant. Despite his discomfort at going near anything related to their past identities, Sydney did lament the missed opportunity of using that blood money for a better cause. Wouldn’t make up for the shit he pulled back then but seeing less stress on Vanessa’s face before she finally fell asleep would go a long way to making him feel less crap about the situation.

Alex said the accounts were frozen, no way of getting that money, and their stashes of liquid assets had been destroyed long ago, so they should pretty much give up that avenue and just focus on local work. Sydney had agreed… on the surface.

The loophole he’d worked out by reversing the flaws and mistakes that got him killed in the first place seemed to be accepted by the deal Alex had made. So if he just continued operating under that loophole then there was still a path he could take. If they absolutely had no other choice….

Gregory scurried into the kitchen while Freddy followed at a slower, more cautious pace. The animatronic worried over accidentally damaging the stairs and upstairs floor with his weight so he tended to deliberate over his steps. Maybe he’ll get used to the place with more time. Still, Gregory was in a much better mood since Freddy was able to move in.

Sydney just found himself more on edge, internally screaming any time Freddy was in the same room as him. Whoever said exposure therapy was one good way to get over someone’s fear of something should be dragged into an alley and shot, years being stuck around some form of Freddy didn’t have him get over it. Just made him split between resigned acceptance of future death and frustrated tears that he was still tangled up in Afton’s shit. At least Glamrock Freddy maintained as much distance as he could and seemed aware that Sydney got tense if he couldn’t see where the bear animatronic stood.

“Can I come home if school gets sucky?” Gregory asked between mouthfuls of eggs and hashbrowns.

“You’re just gonna have to put up with it,” Vanessa sighed, already looking over the help wanted section of a newspaper, marker in hand to circle prospective jobs, “We can’t just keep you out of school or we’ll get in trouble. Maybe try and make some friends?”

“Only if I see anyone I recognize from the Pizzaplex,” Gregory muttered and scarfed down the rest of his breakfast before grabbing his lunchbox and bolting again, “Thanks! Bye, Vanessa! Bye, Freddy! See you after school!”

“I always get nervous sending someone to school,” Freddy mumbled, tapping a pair of claws together before looking at Vanessa, “I will get started on cleaning. Good luck in your job-hunting!” She nodded with a smile at him and he wandered off, which finally let Sydney relax.

“Guess he escaped getting drilled for now,” Alex grumbled into his coffee cup, “But I’m gonna get him to sit and study it sooner or later.” He checked the time and sighed, “Right, we’d better leave now if I wanna make it in before the asshole can have an excuse to get on my case about being late.”

“He doesn’t seem that bad,” Sydney carefully signed out, fingers and hands bending awkwardly into unfamiliar positions. Alex squinted at him and he sighed and wrote the message out.

“Oh, well yeah, compared to Master File, he’s a fucking sweetheart to you,” his brother scoffed, “But he bitches me out if I even look at my phone on the job. And don’t even get me started on how he’s still a diva on stage. Fucking embarrassing.” He pointed between Sydney and the paper, “You’re still learning that sign language stuff? Guess I should work on my app to translate it so you don’t have to keep writing everything.”

“Shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re on the clock as security,” Vanessa pointed out, circling a job listing, “It’s in the manual.” Alex hummed, shrugging as he set his cup down. “Well, if everyone’s ready, let’s go. Got some potential places to check for work.”

.

------------------------

.

Dropping off Alex meant getting to see his old place of work and how much it had changed since he last spent time there. Sydney looked over the new decorations, added services, and the change in people. Meera had grown older in her gaze while her features still retained some of her youthfulness from years ago. She still greeted him warmly, hugged him happily, and gushed about her joy in being able to help rescue him from Afton’s clutches.

Circus Baby watched from where she walked the floor, greeting customers. She only waved at him and Vanessa while Alex promptly ignored the animatronic in favor of making his rounds. The pizzeria had changed some, but Sydney still remembered days of making sure Alex ate regularly to gain healthy weight, keeping teenagers in check so they didn’t bully younger kids, and being a lot more carefree. He kinda missed those days.

From there he and Vanessa drove around town to search out all the places she’d circled. Supermarkets, gas stations, convenience stores, restaurants and bars; they filled out applications until Sydney’s eyes crossed at having to spell his name over and over and over.

“Wrong name,” Vanessa whispered under her breath at one stop and he blinked, rubbing his eyes before glaring down at the paper. He’d put his last name as ‘Michaels’ and scowled. The admittedly bad idea he’d been poking at in the back of his mind must have been taking more of his attention than he thought. Correcting the name was easy enough but now that he was aware of what he was considering, it was harder to shove it back down.

He still had his old skills after all, Afton made sure to use him to that extent whenever she needed people gone. And he remembered how much money there was to be made in those circles.

“This burger place is asking for night guards, wanna try applying here?” Vanessa asked during a stop to eat lunch. She pointed at the sign on the ordering counter with her fries and Sydney turned in his seat to look it over and check out the surroundings more carefully. The place had its own animatronics but the building felt… wrong. Nice enough in the day for a visit, but definitely not a place to be in at night.

“No,” he both signed and shook his head at her. Instinct was now screaming at him to leave, pick Vanessa up bodily if need be and just get out. She gave him a puzzled look, then shrugged and went back to eating her burger so he had to push the reaction down, grimacing a bit. Definitely didn’t make it easy to guard her.

They didn’t apply at the burger place and Vanessa decided they should walk around in a mall as compensation. There were more places to apply at inside, but they drifted from shop to shop, gazing through the storefront windows, more than browse inside them. Just a relaxing walk, side by side, while Vanessa scrolled her phone for messages from Gregory.

“Seems like he found a friend,” she said at last, looking up at him with a grin, “It’s cute. He ran into a girl he met at the Pizzaplex during her birthday party and they reconnected.” She waggled the phone, mischievous smile on her face. “Teasing material~!” she declared in a sing-song tone, “Revenge for how he keeps thinking we’re dating or something.”

Sydney rolled his eyes and Vanessa just laughed, bumping him with her shoulder. That was something they both found a little funny. It wasn’t like Gregory or Alex made much effort to hide how they kept sneaking around the house to ‘spy’ on them, like they were trying to catch the two of them at something incriminating. At first it had been kind of annoying -there were only so many times they both could insist they were just friends before it sounded like denial-, but then they turned it into a game of how long they could waste time before those two gave up out of boredom.

Sometimes Vanessa got a bit of a mean streak and would grab the headboard of their bed to slam against the wall a few times, smiling wide and toothy at the mad scramble down the stairs they both could hear through the closed bedroom door. Those moments had Sydney laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

“We should be getting back now. School will be out in another hour and if we’re not home to let him in, Freddy will do it and we don’t need the neighborhood figuring out we have an animatronic at home,” Vanessa said, looking at the time on her phone. “We’ve pretty much hit every place we could to look for work. Something’s bound to come through for us.”

And if not, well… there was still a little money squirreled away for a plane ticket to Nebraska.

.

-------------------

.

Alex and Gregory sat in the living room, various parts and a laptop spread on the coffee table. Freddy sat on the floor near them, watching curiously as they worked on the components together. The pieces were scraps from Fitzgerald’s workshop, leftover animatronic parts that the two of them used for practice in making upgrades for Freddy. Sydney watched them for a moment before turning his attention back to dinner prep in the kitchen.

Vanessa had gotten a cookbook during their mall outing and peered at one page, knife in one hand and onion in the other. “Restaurants make onion rings look so easy,” she complained to him as he drew closer to look over the recipe himself, “Should we just chop it up instead and mix it into a meatloaf?”

“Do we have everything for a meatloaf?” Sydney signed, the positioning of his hands growing more fluid with practice over time. Following along with the videos online helped a lot, and Vanessa would sit in with him to learn how to read this new way of communicating. She was still good at understanding him, with or without his signing. Just a side effect of them having spent so long together under Afton’s control.

“Pretty sure we do. We stocked up on staple supplies during our last grocery run,” she replied, slicing the onion in half on the cutting board and wrinkling her nose, “If this makes me cry, we’re never getting onions again.” Sydney huffed a laugh at her, walking away to change ingredients from making onion rings and dip to meatloaf.

Whatever investigations were going on with the Pizzaplex had long ago fizzled out, to no one’s surprise. The place was still cordoned off, with construction equipment surrounding the building to attempt repairs where the sinkhole under Roxy Raceway started destabilizing the foundation. Freddy watched the news about it with a sad expression and Gregory started making suggestions to sneak into the building and see if the other Glamrocks could be salvaged.

“Their programming chips, I mean,” he had amended when Vanessa and Sydney had both stared at him in alarm, “Mr. Woods said he could build them new endos and shells, but we need the chips so that Freddy gets his friends back and not just Fazbear Entertainment copies.” They didn’t really address it, but then they really didn’t want to step back inside the building. Felt too much like a trap, waiting to ensnare them if they dared to cross the threshold again. Safer to stay outside the building.

Or so they had thought. Vanessa suddenly went silent, cutting herself off from her string of complaints about the onion smell, standing in place with her head in an odd tilt, as though listening to something only she could hear. Sydney watched her warily, alarm building up as she continued to stare with empty eyes into the distance, her grip still on the knife. Finally, she turned her attention to him, gaze still vacant as her hand twirled the knife around into a tighter grip, raising it up while she moved towards him in a semi-drunken shuffle.

He moved to intercept, grabbing her wrist to keep the knife up and away, other arm wrapping around her shoulders to limit her rotation force, then spinning them both around together to sandwich her between himself and the kitchen wall. Pinned like that she wouldn’t be able to leverage enough space to free her arm or move the knife. All that was left was to wait and hope Vanessa snapped out of this state before Gregory wandered into the kitchen and panicked.

“...Wh-,” she breathed after a moment, blinking in confusion, “What just…?” Her eyes scanned over him and then herself and then up at the knife in her hand, her face going ashy in realization. Sydney watched her intently, questioning expression on his face. Vanessa swallowed hard, trying to get herself to relax. “I’m okay. I’m… me again,” she whispered and glanced up at her hand, “Could you… take the knife from me? Please?”

He could smell the fear drifting around her, but he pulled away carefully and reached up to slide the knife handle from her loosened grip. While she hugged herself tightly, he finished chopping up the onion, cleaned the knife, then put it away, leaning back against the drawer it was stored in to block access to it. Vanessa flashed him a quick smile of gratitude, shaky as it was, before returning to her efforts of pulling herself together.

“Been a while since that happened,” she finally muttered, moving carefully to his side and leaning in for support, “Only time I felt shut into my own head like that was just before Gregory shut down the system that was making me into Glitchtrap’s puppet.” She shivered, rubbing her arms down. “We had the implants removed, so what set that off now?”

Sydney didn’t have an answer for that, just a suspicion that the activity of repair around the Pizzaplex was yet another front for something more happening there. Even with the implants gone, the scars of what they’d been through in there still lingered, planted traps that could go off if they weren’t vigilant about finding and disarming them. He pulled Vanessa into a hug, tucking her head under his chin and letting them both listen to the innocent bickering in the next room over what went into a good battery upgrade for Freddy. The sounds kept the chill at bay, reminded them both that they were still in light, even if shadows tried to drag them back in.

“Don’t tell Gregory,” Vanessa murmured, “I don’t want him to think he didn’t actually free me. It’ll just make him want to go back in there even more, on some wild goose chase of finding another arcade machine.”

Sydney pulled one hand away. “Okay,” he signed, blinking when she reached out and wove her fingers with his, clutching his hand like a lifeline.

“You’re the best friend a formerly brainwashed amnesiac mom could ever ask for,” she joked weakly, laughing when Sydney chuckled over her head. “Let’s get back to making dinner, before the boys walk in here and think they’ve scored a point in our game.” Her smile grew more genuine and relaxed when he stuck his tongue out at her.

The things he did to help his friends. Worth it every time.

.

--------------------------

.

The admittedly bad idea rose up again when Vanessa didn’t stop frowning at the screen of her laptop, a spare one Alex had cleaned up and secured before passing it to her as a ‘welcome to freedom’ gift. Gregory was upstairs in his room with Freddy and her phone, talking to his friend from school for however long he could stall doing his homework. Alex himself was at work, and that left Sydney to hold down the fort while Vanessa oversaw the managing of household duties.

Usually that meant she got to boss him around into doing more manual chores and he indulged her because it both made her happy and kept his mind trained to work around his fatal flaw. Give up power in exchange for self-control; the deal remained intact and he didn’t feel as suffocated.

Today, she didn’t even crack a smile at having him haul out the garbage to the curb. Just stayed staring at the screen with that tense frown and fearful eyes.

“If your faces freezes like that, I’ll get the blame,” Sydney signed in front of her so she’d have to see his hands. Vanessa glanced up at the motions, attention diverted, then flashed him a tight smile.

“Sorry, just… looking at our savings again,” she apologized and gestured at the screen. “With what we have, even if we rented space for a tiny diner, we won’t have the money to secure restaurant equipment to actually do business.” She twisted a few strands of her hair around her fingers unhappily. “I could try to get a loan, but we’d have to put the house up for collateral. If the business fails, we lose the house. And we won’t even have this much savings for very long. Bills to pay, household expenses… you know how it is,” she added. Sydney nodded in agreement. Those were all things he had to manage when it was just him and Alex living in a meager little apartment to get away from their parents and he was the one working to bring in money for them to live on.

“If only we had, like, a million dollars just drop into our laps,” Vanessa sighed and snapped her fingers, “Like that. It’d solve this diner issue pretty fast. Too bad the lump sum payout I got from fighting with Fazbear Entertainment was eaten up by our hospital bills and this house.”

Sydney grimaced a little at her words. Money was an issue, always was, and that stupidly bad idea was all but whispering more enticement to him. One job. He could probably do one high value job and solve the problem. Only issue was what to do about the fact that he was going to have to be away from them for however long it took to do that job. He couldn’t just up and say, ‘Hey, I’m going to be gone for maybe a month to do something illegal to get us money. See you later!’

Right?

.

.

In retrospect, while sitting in a plane bound for Nebraska, maybe leaving a note on the bed beside a sleeping Vanessa wasn’t his smartest idea. But at least he wasn’t there for her to yell at him. He’ll just get an earful once he was home with the money. Who knows? Maybe he’ll have enough money that she’ll be so happy with it she’d forget to yell at him.

“Someone looks like they’re in the doghouse with the missus,” the passenger beside him muttered as they read their newspaper.

Sydney sighed, shoulders slumping as he lamely signed, “Just friends.” The passenger scoffed and turned a page, resuming their silence. Technically, she was his boss, so the disbelief was understandable.

She was totally going to yell at him once he got back.

[the-fellowship-of-lalafell]

Squallall was originally just an in game representation of me, the Tumblr blog account holder.

Over time, she grew to be an alternate universe version if the Me I use in stories, just XIV's version of me that fits all XIV related content/situations.

She originally had no known caretaker, as she not only lacked the memory of one, but had loads of indicators that she had one. At the time, I hadn't made one for her. She now has one, a man of 50% Xaela, 25% Seeker of the Sun, and 25% Veena named Onyxeus Ozmandeus. Squallall's belief that the Twelve don't exist and that Hyaedelyn's a fraud comes from him and the fact that he grew up outcast from anyone other than family because he looks so strange; the "Alexander is most likely the most viable and benevolent Eidolon" mentality also comes from him and his studies. The reason Squallall doesn't remember him for most of her journey is because he saw himself as a threat to her survival and used a handmade temporary amnesia spell to make her forget him after he faked his death and took all images of his face out of the house; this spawns the mystery she aims to solve through until Endwalker (endpoint unknown) of who raised her.

Originally, she was just very friendly to Haurchefaunt, but as of now, they were almost half siblings because Squallall's caretaker (father) fell for Haurchefaunt's dad, but due to a more draconic appearance, and how Ishgard as a whole would feel, it didn't last long; they, the parents that is, still yearn for each other, but more so yearn for more general acceptance from Ishgard. Haurchefaunt's death ends up being her first ever death of a family member she has memory of, so it goesas expected. Lots of horrid crying and screaming; it's just ugly and heart wrenching. Is how she and Thancred stop hating each other and become more sibling-like in how they interact.

Warning: gets darker from here on out. As in includes her dark backstory of being gene warped as an infant by a Garlean scientist. Contains blood and harsh tones.

She once had lycanthropy cause a tail in her day form, but that got scrapped in favor of having that same long, prehensile tail with a lightly tufted tip be a result of Garlean genetic mutation as an infant. Something something a Garlean scientist wanted to create mass produceable army and was told to start small, but picked Lalafell infant instead of, say, a rat or puppy; she survived when said scientist was told to kill her, because turns out, head still attached = still alive, so throwing a newborn with a back that is bloody and looks like a well used cutting board into the ocean in hopes she'll drown or get eaten won't work.

Originally, she was just like my other characters in that if she clinically dies, she's only gone for twenty minutes before showing signs of life. Now it's more so that if it involves vital organs/veins, she'll rebound like that, but if not, she can still be alive, and in some cases fully awake. Can cause some morbid, yet hilarious situations like her impaled on a stalagmite and complaining the whole time while the party is actively trying to save her, or the "What wound?" cliche that many people use.

She originally was given a form of a towering beast I've used before, and dubbed in other stories as Bacterial Contamination, but no concrete way to have something 3' 2.2" tall become something 16' 8.8" and monstrous; it's dubbed an an Army-Eater in this. I have since added dark aspected corrupted crystals as the method of transformation. She needs to eat one standard crystal sized one in order to be overloaded with energy and morph, but risks losing her sanity and becoming a mindless killing and mass consuming machine; her body lacks enough mass to have this form, so she just eats a lot while temporarily in it in order to hopefully not die. If she loses her pupils in this form, she's lost control of the bodily urge to eat anything meaty and/or that moves.

8/24/24

How has your wol(oc) changed in ways you wouldn't have guessed back when you made them?

[myfirstandlast]

my depression is reaching unsalvageable levels and i don’t know what to do im quite scared and i don’t have anyone around me for protection or support

[fatuismooches]

hiii, if your requests are still open, can i request headcannons of dottore and reader in the sumeru academia (romantic)? Have a nice day 💕

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐮 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: The prestigious Sumeru Akademiya was filled with interesting and unique characters. But none of them came close to the man shrouded in rumors and loneliness, Dottore.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Of course I can! This was very fun to write, as I love this idea so much. I hope you enjoy this!

Even though you had grown up in Sumeru amongst the greatest scholars and had access to knowledge, you never wanted to become a scholar and go to the Akademiya. You had seen people suffer for years over their research and take half of their lives to graduate. In no way did you want a strict and consuming life like that. You were quite content with being an adventurer for the Guild, as you were very strong and could hold your own easily. That was until you found out your parents had signed you up for the Akademiya without your knowledge, and all your items were moved to a dorm room there. You were highly upset and wanted to leave immediately, but something stopped you. Maybe it was because you were already here, and it’d be a pain to go back and face your parents immediately. And maybe some of those smart scholars could help you with some fighting techniques. So you decided to stay to test the waters, just to see what the Akademiya life was like.

You still didn’t try that hard though, and instead struck deals with other scholars. You found out that many of them weren’t very strong. They couldn’t test their devices, or go to old ruins or dangerous places for their research by themselves without paying a large fee to hire someone. So instead, you would do anything fighting-related for them, and they would help you with the work in return. It was really good actually, whenever you were partnered for some group project with some random person, you’d do all the fighting while they did the academics. This resulted in good results from their research, so the professors at least briefly knew of your existence out of the mass amount of students. It helped that you were patient and kind, so many people grew to like you. This is why many people ran to warn you about the man named Dottore you happened to be partnered with this time.

Apparently, he was a teal-haired man with red eyes who always donned a mask, so no one knew what his real face looked like. Rumors about his dubious experiments and malpractice always floated about but there was never any concrete evidence to convict him. Despite this, he was so incredibly smart that even the top professors acknowledged his intelligence. He rarely left his room, but when he did, the hundreds of students in the hallways would scamper to the side, leaving a clear-cut path for him to walk. No one would dare talk to him, and some were even scared to step close to his dorm room after Dottore’s only roommate left, saying they’d rather live on the streets than with that “madman.” While many people begged you to ask the professor for a change of partners, you were intrigued by this so-called freak and monster. Maybe since you’ve already seen all kinds of monsters in the wild so you weren’t that scared, but you wanted to meet this Dottore.

You walked down the hallway in which Dottore’s room was. It was a normal hallway, with normal rooms, and Dottore’s room all the way at the end of the hall was no different. It was a bit funny to know how people were scared to do such a mundane thing. And so, you raised your hand to knock but before you could, the door opened a crack and a distinct red eye peered at you. How’d he know you were there? You faltered a second but composed yourself, ready to make your introduction, but he sharply interrupted you.

“I already know who you are, and why you’re here. No need to waste time,” Dottore said dryly, noticing as you blinked awkwardly at his less than pleasant attitude. He didn’t say anything else as he eased the door open some more, letting you come in.

It was darker than normal because much of the curtains had been pulled shut. You gazed at your surroundings. His room was more of a workshop and lab than a living space. Different kinds of tools scattered about, clipboards and papers, oh, and he even had Ruin Guard parts?! Wait, was that a syringe? 

Dottore eyed you carefully, arms crossed. He was already secretly surprised at your boldness, as no one besides him had stepped foot in here in ages. In truth, he hoped to drive you off with his usual rudeness and questionable room, so you’d go and ask the professor to let you have another partner, so then he could work alone in peace. Oh, how wrong he was.

“Wow! Your room is so cool!”

A moment passed in silence as Dottore had to make sure he didn’t hear things. “What…?”

“I’ve never seen any other student’s room look like this!” You bounced over to a random desk and squinted at some papers. “And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone research this kinda stuff before,” you hummed, trying to hold it up to the light to read.

It took Dottore another moment to process what you said, but he quickly grabbed the notes from your hand. “These aren’t for your eyes, idiot,” he scowled, for once not sure what to say because no one had ever said that to him. He became even more confused when all you did was laugh.

This was Dottore? You were prepared for a lot worse from the rumors, but definitely not this. And furthermore, he was quite attractive even though he had a smart mouth. You shook your head, feeling as though this would be quite interesting.

“Hey, why don’t we start that project already? I promise I’ll be of good help to you.” Thus began your days as Dottore’s assistant in Sumeru Akademiya.

Dottore was still internally shocked that you willingly volunteered yourself as his partner. Initially was super suspicious of you - you had to be lying, or playing a prank, or planning to leak all his work to outsiders. Barely said a word and brushed you off at first, but found it harder to keep up the act when you continued to be sweet and patient with him. Eventually gave up when you kept barging into his dorm for his company and beating the shit out of his tormentors in front of him.

After the two of you finished the first group project, his chest twinged a bit, a feeling he only felt long ago, when he was chased out of his town with pitchforks and his first few months of being shunned at the Akademiya. He questioned why. Oh - it was because now that the project was over, you’d never talk to him again. But this thought only flitted in his mind, as he refused to think about it any longer, quickly resuming his research. Oh, how he would be wrong again. A few days later, there was a familiar banging on his door, and he unconsciously moved quicker than usual to open it.

“Oh hey Dotty! Move over, I gotta move my stuff into your room?”

“What?” This conversation was starting to feel too similar to the first one he had with you.

“I’m your new roommate starting today, of course! Haha!” You laughed merrily as you handed him the transfer papers. He was too shocked to berate you.

“Hey, is your bed the top bunk bed or the bottom one? I can’t tell because all your science stuff is on both.”

You and your unusualness were going to be the death of him.

After Dottore warms up to you, it is impossible for him to let go. You will forever be with him. Unfortunately pre-relationship, he comes off like an asshole despite him trying his best since he actually likes you. When he tries to convey how he’s glad you’re his roommate now, he probably ends up saying something dumb and insulting, and then cringes in private later at his horrid social skills. Please tell him your feelings first, he keeps screwing it up and you’re probably tired of that. When you confess, he acts so confident but is questioning himself and you so badly - how can you really love someone like him? Buries these conflicting thoughts and is genuinely eager to finally someone who cares. He was one who has no one else in this world besides himself, but he now you too. 

Room dates!! This man doesn’t like leaving his room due to all the stares he gets, and he doesn’t like when you’re not with him, so a lot of dates are in the comfort of his room. Well, you’re the one who made it comfortable, after organizing all his messes and buying new decorations and soft blankets for cuddling. I don’t know how the Akademiya is structured, but imagine you and Dottore lying against each, looking out from your high-floor dorm room window out at the city at night <3. (Dottore is in no way a sap for this kind of stuff, but it makes you happy, so he can deal with it.) Dates where you help him tinker with stuff. The two of you buy something, dismantle it, and then rebuild it for fun. Dates where he rambles on for hours about his new theories and future experiments, and the plans that he will fulfill. I don’t know if you can consider experimenting in his room a date, but yeah. Also, you spoon feeding him food because if you don’t he’ll forget to eat.

Dates where he takes you to different locations and makes you fight enemies that he wants the material and drops of. You make him hide behind rocks so he doesn’t get hurt, but he secretly takes notes of all your fascinating moves. Would give you advice after on how to save the most stamina and energy, which moves would give you the most power. Honestly, he could make you a lot stronger with just his observations and words. Dates where he takes you to ancient domains and ruins. Dottore takes notes of all the ancient scribbles and puzzles for his research while you fight for both of your lives. Since he’s a student he still has more free time, he just chooses to spend it on research. Dates where you forcibly drag him out for picnics at night so no one can bother the two of you or stare. Tells you about how all the stars in the sky are lies, apparently. Thinks reciting complicated formulas and scientific facts is romantic.

Dottore carries you easily in the Akademiya. He could do two different reports on the same topic and make them completely different. If you ask him to do so, he’ll moan and groan but ultimately get it done quickly because he’s a genius, and also he loves you too much and would kill a man if you really wanted him to. You don’t need any other partner besides him, Dottore insists. No one can explain the concepts better than him, and no one would take hours to explain them to you either. But he is a bit competitive so if you happen to do better on a test or assignment, Dottore would get all pouty. He likes being the smarter one in the relationship. (You have to convince him that he definitely is and that you got this far with his help.) Also, you taking off his mask so you can kiss his face. This takes so much trust, and it probably happens first in the pitch darkness where you still can’t see his face yet.

Times where the two of you make fun of the people who bullied you. Dottore can be real nasty especially when people are mean to you. You have to calm him down. Study dates happen quite often as well. But you have trouble focusing on all of those hard things so you try to distract and bother Dottore by wrapping your arms around him and snuggling into his neck. He gets all grouchy but gives into cuddles after some persistence. Even though you still didn’t have much desire to graduate from the Akademiya, you vowed to remain Dottore’s loyal assistant for however long. You hoped these days would continue forever, but all you knew was that no matter where Dottore went, you’d follow after, much to his pleasure. Neither of you would have it any other way <3.

taglist: @heyhazelnut101, @peepopeepopeperoni

[starwalker03]

someone liked this post so I reread it and now I'm thinking about it again. so welcome to Jab Wants To Write Some Fic But Their Brain Won't Let Them, So They'll Do Meta Fic Instead hours.

I haven't edited any of this lol.

okay so I think this is the most compelling if it happens right before season two of YJ. like Kaldur disappeared for the undercover mission a whole year before the team gets the concrete reveal of the fact that he's with Manta, if I remember correctly. It's not a short time frame, I know that for sure. it's something between ten months to a year and a half, I swear, it's around there.

So Dick is Nightwing. I think maybe he was moving into Bludhaven, starting to work there, which is why there's that warehouse and base with the zeta tubes in it that we see later in season two after the mountain blows up. But I think when he becomes leader of the team, due to Kaldur's absense, it puts a lot of his Bludhaven work on the backburner, so he's sort of just working when he can in the city as a patroling hero and hasn't had the chance to sink in and start really uprooting the hardcore crime (blockbuster and the like y'know). I think later in season two when the leaguer's of missing sixteen hours fame go off to space, Dick fully relocates to Gotham to pick up the slack of Batman's absense. but this is before that.

he's stepping in as leader at the same time as the team has gotten so much bigger. there's batgirl and robin, there's beast boy, there's Bumblebee, there's L'Gaan, there's Blue Beetle, there's so many fucking people. but at the same time, Artemis and Wally have just recently left, and Zatanna and Rocket are about to join the league. so the team is going through growing pains and a lot of evolution. he's got his work cut out for him if he's going to get these people to form a cohesive unit that will stand up to whatever oncoming threat Kaldur may be about to root out.

I think it'd be so interesting if Kaldur was originally just doing a quick and short undercover op. he was just gonna do some spy work, something he wouldn't get caught for, and might be gone a few weeks. He was picked because if he got found spying on manta's men he'd make it out, cause manta wouldn't kill him on the spot unlike everyone else on the team. I don't think this is canon, but I think it'd be interesting. Like Dick and Kaldur didn't tell anyone because it wasn't supposed to be a long game. Maybe Kaldur thought of making it longer, but he wanted to see if he could even do such intense spy work before he suggested to Nightwing that he could do a long-term undercover op with such intensity that he does in the show.

so that's background.

Dick is out running a mission as leader. it's an easy operation, simple recon as opposed to some big secretive mission. if things end in the warehosue blowing up and their covers blown it'll be fine you know?

the team is still getting used to him. And as much as he's better at it than he was in season one, the team isn't making it easy for him. M'Gaan and Conner, his senior members that should be supporting him the most, are so at odds with each other and too wrapped up in that to help Nightwing wrangle the team. they've got all these newbies who've barely worked as heroes at all let alone in a team of them. some o them barely even have a handle on their powers. then their Tim and Babs who work so well with Nightwing but that just puts them at greater odds cause he'll move and they'll move, before he even says anything, and now they've gone to do the orders he hasn't made yet while the rest of the team stares, and Dick can't get a word out without them zooming away.

it, of course, ends with explosions. but it's fine. They just need to be Out In The Field so no one thinks it's strange that the team is oddly inactive, otherwise the bad guys might get antsy.

they break into a facility that is doing illegal testing of some description. it's not even related to the Light, Dick made sure to find something that wouldn't rile up the light but also wouldn't look out of the ordinary. it's some kind of underground military project that's gone rogue and the UN handed it off to the league to track down.

eventually it reaches the point that all the squads have broken up into chaos, everyone is arguing with each other and the ones that aren't arguing with each other can't get a word in edgewise over the mindlink. and they can't use the comms instead because they know this facility will overhear in some capacity. Dick is ready to tear his hair out at this point. he begins ordering about extractions, takes control, makes it clear that he's very disappointed in everyone, which garners mixed reactions, and attempts to veer off for a second to hack in and get some information so the whole thing isn't a total loss.

cue someone tripping an alert and the whole place going into emergency mode.

Dick is about ready to start slamming his head into a wall because no one is focusing on leaving and is instead arguing over who'd fault it is for tripping the alarm and he's already started the count down in his head for when he'll have enemies on him.

at that point Conner and M'Gaan lock in, fully realising the problem at hand, and start corralling people into getting out. Nightwing separates from whatever couple of heroes are still standing with him, knowing they're too far in to get out easy and saying he'll draw the oncoming security while they get out. it's not a bad idea, it's necessary, they're actually really far into the facility unlike half of the other squadrons, so they really need to skedaddle before they get trapped in the endless twisting hallways. Nightwing finishes up getting some of the data while he directs people over the mindlink how to safely get out, because he's got a map of the facility up while he rifles through the data. he's watching the oncoming force approaching like a hawk, has his exit strategy planned, and is all set to kick some asses and meet up with the bio jet just before it takes off with the others.

and then he realises there's captives.

it's out of the corner of his eye. he's too busy scanning through information about lab tests and chemcial storage and just briefly he sees it and oh no there's captives. it sinks in as he's watching more and ore words scroll past, he's looking through the maps and he finds where they are and he realises he only has time to pick one: risk freeing captives in the hopes of getting them out, or turn tail and run right there and then.

unfortunately, this is Nightwing, and he will always try to save everyone.

he tells them over the mindlink, making sure they have directions to get out, and telling them there's captives he has to try and save. he's planning the route out, he knows if this goes right he might be able to get them out. there's several team members protesting and saying they'll double back and help. Nightwing refuses, they're almost there, it's not worth the risk. Conner let's him know that the second he's got his squad to the ship he's doubling back to help. Nightwing can't really stop him, but he makes him promise to get the green beans fresh heroes to the ship first before coming to help with extraction.

the whole thing ends in a clusterfuck. half the facility is up in flames. and Conner and M'Gaan inevitably have to decide to turn around an run with the captives that managed to escape, because if they don't leave that very second no one will get to leave at all.

and Dick is caught in the crossfire, an explosion goes off, he sees Conner in the distance, and Conner watches as a building collapses around Nightwing.

Dick wakes up who knows how long later, in a cell. he's still in his suit and has his mask, but all his gear and equipment is removed. all of it, it's like someone went through with a fine tooth comb to get even the most hidden things. he's not sure how long it's been but he's hungry, thirsty, sore, and his head hurts, so at least a day probably.

when he sees someone, it's a scientist of some description. at least that's his guess because they're not wearing gear and equipment that a security personnel member might. this scientist looks angy, stressed, depressed, (chicken breast lol) and probably a bit manic too cause why not. and they're especially pissed at Dick because "I lost half my subjects you little shit! they were already halfway through the process we could've found out if it'd worked- we could've had so much data! you, you, you don't know what you've taken from me."

which is a spiel Dick isn't unfamiliar with.

he's still tired, probably got some bed head, and he's just staring at this guy like 'uh huh, okay. sure, whatever you say' while they rant at him angrily. there's like a point where they pause and wait for Dick to return this energy and they stare in astonishment as he just says, "are you done?"

they brush it off though, and they're just like "no! not even close! because now I suddenly can't turn my nose up at any new subjects, so-" and that's when all the security personnel appear and drag him out of the cell kicking and punching (one of them probably sock him in the gut to get him to stop fighting) following after the scientist who is all but skipping through the halls.

Dick knows knowledge is his best bet here so he starts verbally ribbing the scientist for information. luckily this is a scientist who seems to ant to ramble about their experiments because it's so easy to get him to start talking, they're just yabbering on with so much jargon and industry-specific information that even though Dick has a good grasp on bio chem he's struggling to keep up. all he gets really is that it's some kind of human experiment hoping to recreate the affects of a past human experiment from over a decade ago, of which the American military lost the data and successful test subject. and also it seems this scientist was going to have his research stopped or otherwise taken from their hands, which is when they went rogue because they were invested.

Dick gets dragged into a testing facility of some kind. there's a guy strapped to one the three stretchers fully unconscious and bleeding from the nose, which Dick takes as a bad sign as far as guesses to his future health.

he's looking for ways out, and takes a chance as the guards drag him past a table of equipment. he twists free of one guards grip, grabs a syringe and stabs the other. in the time it takes for the scientist to turn around he's already knocked another guard down.

The scientist clicks a button an the inhibitor collar lights up with electricity.

Dick hadn't even noticed they put one on him. his uniform sits tight around his throat anyway, so with everything else to focus on he just didn't get a chance to pick up on the collar.

once the electricity finishes he's left groaning and twitching on the tiles. two guards grab their downed pals while another one picks Dick up before he shakes off the shock and gets him down to the stretcher.

Dick gets enough control back of his limbs to start fighting, but the restraints are very streamlined and easy to put on, so he's already got one wrist locked down to the bars of the stretcher. he kicks wildly out at the guard but there's more of them ready and eventually he's held down, still struggling.

he's really hoping he gets lucky and this is when the team bursts in to save him.

he doesn't get lucky.

the collar lights up again for good measure, to get him to stop flailing for a moment. the scientist tears some of his sleeve and hooks up an IV quickly before he can start moving again and pumps a paralytic into his system. at this point some of his assistants show up, who've been hanging on the sidelines waiting for the fighting part to finish. they set about working as the paralytic kicks in.

Dick can't move. he can't even blink. his eyes stare up at the ceiling as he listens to people moving around the room, as someone cuts away the forearm of his uniform more to free the iv some more and gets some more skin available to add more equipment. there's a beeping eventually as they clip something to his finger to keep track of his pulse.

his eyes sting, cold air permeates the room, someone slides them shut.

he hasn't been as scared as he is at that point in a long time. He's been through a lot as ex Robin and now Nightwing. He's had the threat of experiments waved in front of him before, but there is something so visceral about it in that moment as he is paralysed, unable to move, completely at the mercy of this group of possibly deranged scientists.

it occurs to him that Conner might believe he's dead, considering how things looked when the explosions went off. He'd hope they'd at least check for a body before believing that, but then it's worse because is he in the same facility? have they moved him? is this a blocked off underground segment of the same facility? there's a lot of options and none of them are good, because there's no way they just stayed in the same facility that had just been half-destroyed and broken into.

he doesn't know if help is coming, and even if it is, he cannot make a guess for how long it's been and how long a rescue will take.

he briefly misses when he was just Batman's partner, because at least then rescue was always oncoming. no matter what, Bruce wouldn't stop looking till he found a body. So he can at least hope Batman is on the way.

someone slides and oxygen mask onto his and it breaks him from his thought spiral. he takes stock of his senses again. he registers there's a few diodes on him as well now, including two at his temples, and someone is taking his blood pressure, and people are talking non stop.

he wishes he could see what was happening so he could at least know if something was coming.

and then no one is touching him. things are quiet. someone off in the corner of the room starts a countdown and as they hit one the iv turns so much warmer and he's not sure if that's just in his head, and it feels like tar is being pumped into his arm, and then pain.

he can't move, can't so much as twitch a finger, as his arm lights up with searing heat, pins and needles creep their way up, the weight of the world seems pull on him, like gravity is sucking him into the stretcher. he feels a bead of sweat tickle across his skin as it falls from his temple to his ear. the heat spreads across his chest, the heart rate monitor is rapidly increasing in volume but Dick doesn't need it to know how fast his heart is beating, he can hear it thundering against his rib cage like it's trying to break free from the pain all on its lonesome. his lungs ache, each breath labours in his chest even with the oxygen mask over his face. the pain spread to his other arm, trailing all the way to the pads of his finger tips. he can feel searing heat in his throat, the same place he speaks from, like its burning away his vocal chords, and it bubbles up in a way that makes Dick fear he may throw up and asphyxiate on his own stomach bile. his eyes sit within sockets that ache, like someone with hands of fire are pushing their thumbs into them. the fingers wrap around his skull, boring into the grooves of his brain, hot fingernails rake into his mind and cut off every comprehensible thought.

time stretches on. he is unable to scream, unable to cry, unable to do anything. his heart continues to beat in his chest at the pace of a horse in frenzy, and he waits for it to give out on him but it never comes. the air feels thick in his chest, his head swims, he doesn't think he's breathing fast enough for his heart, especially when his tongue sits dead and motionless and feels like it's in the way, and some scientist decides he's not getting enough oxygen because they remove the mask and shove a tube down his throat instead. Dick wants writhe and scream and pull the thing out but to no avail. it makes his breathing easier, but that's all it makes easier.

and then he hears someone say "serum 25.987.002 is exhibiting normal symptoms, begin phase two, elicit stress in subject."

Dick is quite sure he's experiencing plenty of stress, and then the diodes at his temples light up with electricity.

he's not sure if he black out or if he is suspended in such an endless state of pain that his brain just simply starts forgetting every second that passes to save his psyche the trauma. or perhaps his mind is passed damaged and he will never think the same again. it's a very nihilistic way of thinking.

all he knows, is time pulls at his mind endlessly, and then something snaps.

the paralysis is there in one breath, and then the next his finger twitches.

"check for brain activity."

a muscle in his neck twinges.

"oh my god, you're not gonna believe this-"

"cross reference with subject one before you sound too excited. end phase two."

the electricity cuts out.

instinct kicks in, his hand curls into a fist, the paralytic filters out faster than it has any right to, and he pulls his arm free with a crack at the same time as he sits up and opens his eyes.

he pulls the other arm free, a security guard levels a gun on him, a scientist screams in fear at the same time as a different one screams to not shoot him.

someone runs for the iv to up the paralytic, a different one runs for a table covered in equipment. Dick pulls his legs free and then rips off as many of the diodes in one move as he can. he hesitates on the iv, knowing that if he pulls it out he will start to bleed at a rate that could kill him within minutes. he launches for the person messing with the iv instead, punching them across the face.

they don't fall, they crumble. there's a snap that echoes in Dick's ears, and at the same time he registers the amount of noise filing into his mind is uncanny, and overwhelming, and the only thing keeping him focused is the panic. the cold air is freezing him, sweat rapidly soaking through his uniform, and he isn't sure if he's shivering from the cold or just the everything about the situation he's found him self in.

he's trying to decide on his next move as one of the guards approaches, and suddenly he's in a fight. they've put away their gun and instead are coming at him with a knife. Dick blocks one hit with his forearm, and then faster than he's ever moved before jabs the man in the throat. there's another crack, and then he hears the gasp that traps in the man's throat as he also crumbles to the floor.

And Dick doesn't hear him take another breath.

it was enough time for someone to find the inhibitor collar's control switch. and as another guard makes a jab with his knife that Dick blocks, he sees out of the corner of his eye as someone clicks a button and the collar whines higher than it did before as the voltage rises and Dick feels his muscles lock.

the knife catches him across the shoulder. the guard flinches away as he momentarily takes on the current. he collapses into someone else's arms, half-conscious, as Dick holds in a scream. the collar whines, beeps, and then everything funnels out of his awareness.

the electricity disappears, Dick's strength and wherewithal melts away, his vision swims, the sounds turn hazy as all he hears in his ears is his heavy heartbeat.

and then he drops to the tiles, seeing the scientist he hit in his blurred vision. his eyes close as he registers the odd, archaic angle her neck has twisted into.

her neck is broken. Dick has killed her.

and then he blacks out.

I have plot bunnies. Was wondering how time traveled WMLP Dick would explain having a healing factor like Slade's (Good luck with that Dick) ended up day dreaming into a new au and living up to my namesake. So idea: A government is trying to recreate the experiment that got Slade his powers and make their own unit of Deathstrokes. Dick or the team is investigating human tracking and human experiments. Dick infiltrates the facility but gets caught (suspend your disbelief here). Evil scientists decide to use Nightwing as a spare subject. Most of their subjects are dying anyway, and he's around the right age and health standard. May as well get some more data before they kill him. Slade who came to shut down the experiment for more personal reasons, finds Dick before the Team does.

I have this image of Slade finding Dick curled up in a cell. The roots of his hair are turning sliver in patches. Dick puts on a brave face and tries to barter his way out but Slade can see how exhausted he looks and guess what happened to him.

ooooooooooooooooh yes. mhm mhm yes very much.

I love a good plot bunny. nom nom nom. This is going in the sladick server for sure lmao.

Nightwing in the YJ show is always so fun to mess with because he is definitely Nightwing, like he's not some strange other version of the character with the same name. The story is very different, his role as a hero is very different, his experiences are very different, but he is still quintessentially Nightwing. I tend to blend all my canons together a lot to make stories but the YJ canon is really fun to mess with on its own sometimes, especially with nightwing.

He's just so young and like, different (?) to how he is in other storylines. like Nightwing of YJ is not Nightwing of Teen Titans. they're just not the same. and what we see of his relationship with Batman is so interesting. And then on top of that the timeline for the batfam is so weord to mess with because within five years Dick becomes Nightwing, Jason becomes Robin, dies, Tim becomes Robin, and there's no actual proof that Dick left Gotham for his own city, so for some reason he became Nightwing but stayed in Gotham but Bruce still went and found a new Robin? like. what?

ramble aside, Nightwing being captured and experimented on and saved by Slade before anyone else is so fun. I'm imagining this as like, post season two maybe? or actually no, cause by then he's quit as team leader. so imagine just before season two, maybe Kaldur has already started going undercover in the Light, and Dick gets captured. It falls under the radar a little because he's very independant and things with the light and the reach haven't started to boil over yet, so they assume he's got caught up in some other mission. unless of course he gets kidnapped on a mission. the absolute panic of that. THey've already lost one leader (Kaldur) under mysterious circumstance and now they've lost Nightwing too? Wally and Artemis having already retired from heroing and hearing about their friend going MIA is a Thought. M'Gaan and Conner being out somewhere else doing some other mission.

ooooh wait. in season two Dick has had to fall back on a support position as leader of the team, because they have had to start splitting up on multiple missions and the only way to effectively lead everyone is to be at the mountain on comms and computers. this would be a fun explanation for that. Him getting kidnapped and experimented on, Slade finding and saving him, helping him heal and figure out what's happened to him, and Dick skedaddling as soon as possible because he doesn't want to get double kidnapped and he can tell Slade is very close to doing exactly that.

showing up at the mountain after running from Slade, who has been giving chase... oh that's fun. makes me think of a series by mizufallsfromkumo called Gravity.

Anyway. He's barred from field action for a bit while the league makes sure he has a psych eval and stuff, cause that sounds like a procedure they'd have in place after someone is kidnapped and captured. And because of that no one learns about the fact that he's kinda sorta a supersoldier now and he wants to keep it that way. and then the season starts and he finally gets back in the field and everything. and when Slade shows up in the show he immediately spots Kaldur'Ahm and is like 'yeah there's no way this turned evil shit is real' and he hunts down Dick while he's on patrol to be like 'well hello there. so this can go two ways...' because he now has leverage.

him using Kaldur as leverage to make Dick strike a deal with him, so this time there's no running away. Dick showing up as renegade months later and no one putting two and two together because he's wearing a mask and he's not supposed to be a supersoldier.

I've realised I already have two different fics that follow a very similar plot to this lmao. one is from whumptober 2021 and the other is just only a few chapters in and I haven't had a chance to get back to it lmao.

What Kind of Man? is the idea of Dick handing himself over to Slade as payment for his silence about Kaldur and Artemis. Oh, Well, Call Off the Dogs, We Found Her in the Woods involves Dick getting kidnapped and experimented on to make him a supersoldier (and will eventually involve Slade).

Also if this is an idea you vibe with I would reccomend the series I linked before (although I think it's been discontinued? it's unfinished at the least) and also An Active Imagination by @withthekeyisking-writer. oh! and Dia a Hero by Foreverwhelmed.

I swear I had more recs to give... Oh! hang on...

Black and Blue Looks Good on You by Soul Tinkerer

and Persuasion (which is on hiatus) by Averia.

okay that's all I got rn byeeeeeee

[kiribaku-headcanons]

kiribaku + family

kirishima proposed when they were 24. they got married when they were 25. it was a small private affair with only family and close friends (i.e all of class 1a, their teachers, and mentors).

they brought an apartment together after they married. they didn’t want to move into either bakugou’s or kirishima’s but have a new fresh space meant for the both of them.

they unconsciously brought an apartment with an extra spare room. for a while it remained as a guest room.

until when they were 30 one morning over breakfast kirishima brought up the possibility of having kids. they realized they both wanted to become parents.

for months they discussed it. about whether they would get a surrogate or adopt. how many they wanted. if they were to adopt what age.

they spent months also discussing their fears. they were scared they wouldn’t be enough. that they wouldn’t be good parents. they were scared of the possibility of villains going after their child.

they didn’t tell any of their friends or family. they wanted a child until they had a concrete answer before telling them.

while doing research bakugou found a woman who aids in parents seeking a surrogate. her quirk allowed her to take dna from both parents to create the child. the child would be 100% their parents without any of her dna.

bakugou showed it to kirishima and they decided that night to contact her.

after three months they hosted a dinner party where they surprised everyone with ultrasound pictures of their child. kaminari passed out.

they changed their schedules to only work until 5. they stopped working weekends. they began working more at their offices then going out on patrols.

during a shift they got a call that their surrogate had gone prematurely into labor. kirishima stopped fighting a villain and ran off to the hospital. the villain stood there in shock for a few minutes allowing another hero to swoop in.

bakugou and kirishima was with her the entire labor. after hours the doctors presented them with their son.

they named him katsuo. spelt with the kanji’ ‘katsu’ coming from katsuki but also for victory and the kanji ‘o’ meaning hero and manly.

katsuo got kirishima’s black hair and bakugou’s shade of red eyes. later on he got kirishima’s shark teeth. and doctors believed he would get a quirk related to bakugou’s. he was a perfect mixture of the two.

bakugou asked midoriya to be his godfather. kirishima asked mina to be his godmother.

kirishima took naps on the couch with katsuo sleeping on his chest. it became bakugou’s phone background.

bakugou would play music softly and hold him in his arms. swaying and dancing through the apartment. singing to him softly. kirishima has so many videos of this.

class 1a took turns babysitting katsuo so kiri and baku could go on dates and have time for themselves. bakugou was slightly bitter that katsuo took such a liking to todoroki.

bakugou has a picture of the three of them in his wallet. kiri has one tucked in his phone case.

they didn’t tell the public about their child. there were rumors and theories about why they cut back on work. they never confirmed nor denied anything. they were hoping to wait until katsuo was older before the public found out.

bakugou became dad. kirishima became papa.

[heckyeahponyscans]

 Okay, my thoughts on the “Make Your Mark” special! (Will contain spoilers.)

1. Animation - Kind of janky. There are parts that look fine and parts where ponies will suddenly move WAY too fast or their physics will be off. Hopefully this is just due to growing pains. (The CGI models were created by Boulder Studios, but MYM is being animated by Atomic Cartoons--using Boulder’s CGI models-- so maybe they’re still learning how best to utilize them.)

Zipp looks the best out of the ponies.  Sunny looks odd in some scenes . . . I think because they darkened her coat color without darkening her lip color.

2. Characters - Zipp is the standout and definitely the main protagonist.  They made her shoulder the burden alone a bit too much.  But I did find her very relatable.  The way she felt directionless, yet unable to bear returning about her royal duties, was compelling.  (One thing I would’ve changed: I would’ve had Queen Haven call her Zephyrina the whole way through until the very end where she asks to be called Zipp. As it was the Queen had already called her Zipp at least twice.)

I thought Hitch was handled very strangely.  The two moments that really didn’t strike true were Hitch leaving the beach without resolving the parasol conflict, which seemed out-of-character (if anything Hitch takes his job TOO seriously) and Hitch not telling his friends about the egg.  Like, I don’t think anything would’ve changed narratively if he’d said, “Whoa guys, has anyone ever seen an egg like this? No? Well, I’m going to take care of it.”

Posey was a really fun character, I enjoyed seeing a G1 pony reinvented.  I thought it was funny how everyone (including myself) expected her to be soft-spoken and then she turned out to be SUPER AGGRO.  Posey is ready to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. 

IMO they could’ve been more specific about her motivations; they gave her like seven different reasons to dislike magic.  So does she actually think it’s dangerous or does she think it’s annoying? It’s important because the script has to answer Posey’s objections and show why she’s wrong.

The dragon character, Sparky, is a baby gargoyle from Gargoyles and no one can convince me differently. ;)  I thought they should’ve had the egg hatch way earlier and had Sparky be the catalyst for the dislike of magic.  Like maybe Sparky keeps toddling away and, idk, setting things ablaze with his / her fire breath.

3. The Plot - I felt like most the parts of the plot worked well individually, but they didn’t synchronize well.  Kind of like a puzzle box that’s been shaken.  It can make a harmonious picture, but you have to arrange them properly.  

For example:  What if Hitch found the dragon egg first and then the squabble broke out at the beach?  Then he has a concrete reason to leave the beach (he needs to put the egg under a heat lamp right away) and it’s not just a weird, unmotivated thing he does.

Basically, I think the script needed another pass to tighten it up.

About the crystals, I wish the problem had been that disharmony made magic go crazy and become super-charged instead of making magic disappear.  IMO this makes more sense with the Earth pony “hooves stuck to the ground” problem. (They were trotting around just fine without magic before the crystals were reunited, sooo . . .) Also it just seems silly that magic can be disrupted by five ponies having a mild argument. Kind of seems like magic is doomed if that’s the case.  I dunno, it just felt kind of lazy as a source of conflict.

4. Songs?? - It’s really weird to me that there’s only one (very short) song in this special.  We don’t even hear Pipp’s Maretime Bay Day song.  Makes me wonder if the script was originally intended to be longer and was pared down.

5. Random Notes - I’m FLOORED that Sprout wasn’t in the special.  I figured they were either going to set him up as a recurring town antagonist or have a redemption arc for him.  Never did I expect him to just be absent without explanation.  I know he shows up in the video game, but you can’t count on your entire audience having played that.  (Weirdly, I think the video game is set on the same day as the MYM special.  Or maybe it’s a year in the future or something?  But I’m pretty sure it involves Maretime Bay Day.)  

They could’ve at least said, “Wow, I can’t believe Sprout missed Maretime Bay Day, but I guess he’s having fun on vacation” and then cut to him and Phyllis comically lost in a tropical jungle or something. 

6. Things I Liked - I liked how much was left unsolved at the end of the special.  I like this “Detective Zipp” thing.  Zipp and Pipp continue to be the powerhouses of the show in terms of their relationship and their voice actors.  Loved the last scene with the mysterious evil alicorn (I just really REALLY hope she’s a new character and not “Flurry Heart grew up and became eeeevil” or "Luna and Celestia merged into one being!” or something stupid like that.)

Oh!  We finally got confirmation that magic has been missing from Equestria for generations (as no one has seen a dragon in that long.)  Which is fun to think about.

It had never occurred to me that the crystals might have been purposely separated, but I found that quite the intriguing idea.  If the three pony tribes were at war then, yeah, that would actually be an amazing (if stone-cold) strategy:  separate the crystals and suddenly your foes don’t have magic.  It would especially make sense if Earth ponies did it.

6. Overall Thoughts - Overall it felt far less nuanced than the G5 movie (both in animation and writing).  I didn’t hate it, I didn’t love it . . . It was fine, and that was kind of it. But it did give me a lot to muse on and generated some ideas of how I would’ve scripted it, and I appreciate that.

And still a hundred times better than Netflix’s “War for Cybertron” in case anyone is wondering, lol.

[flickeringart]

Minor aspects

While the nature of the major aspects in astrology is quite straightforward and has been covered more than sufficiently, there’s still a lot of fog surrounding the nature of the minor ones. There are a lot of minor aspects that can be taken into consideration when interpreting a chart… however, since they are labeled minor they won’t be as obvious and much more difficult to spot in one’s own life. Note that this doesn't mean that they aren't impactful. There’s a lot of speculation and vague terms used when describing them. It seems that every minor aspect is said to have a “spiritual/creative dimension” as if that is supposed to clear up any of the mystery surrounding them. Perhaps, on one level, we don’t want to pin them down too much because certainty is the enemy of exploration. Or perhaps it’s the case that the aspects themselves don’t want to be pinned down? There’s an appeal in keeping certain things mysterious in our lives, to avoid defining and putting rigid labels on phenomena. It makes life alive and beautiful. Many people dismiss astrology is because they are afraid that they’re going to be reduced to a set of characteristics and have their personality mapped up to the point of being able to predict and foresee patterns of behavior and fated themes. The fear of knowledge is not irrational; it is probably healthy to an extent. Knowing too much can be dangerous and rob life of its magic. “Curiosity killed the cat”, as the saying goes. However, this is not the whole truth because curiosity also leads to expansion and better understanding, so let’s not be afraid to concretize these aspects, it's not the same as "killing" their potential. Life is never completely in our hands anyway, there's no risk of knowing it all.

Quintile (72°)/Bi-quintile (144°)

These aspects are said to have something to do with individual style and quality of creative work. It is suggested that these aspects say something about a mental-creative process of imposing one’s mind on a particular subject. It is also linked to talent and gifts the individual would possess that have not been actively learned. Basically, it seems to be indicative of the particular way a person would approach a subject. For example, the quintile would not describe the activity itself - the activity could be painting, knitting, running, cleaning or whatever ��� the quintile/bi-quintile would point to the way the person approaches the activity.

For example, Ted Bundy (whose chart I’ve explored a bit here), has Neptune bi-quintile the MC. Neptune, being the planet of illusion hints to Bundy’s quality of being a chameleon, deceiving the public as part of his personal style.

Prince Harry, (whose chart I’ve touched upon before), has his Moon bi-quintile Neptune. The Moon can be indicative of the mother figure, and his mother Princess Diana certainly had an elusive style and charm that was a bit deceptive and seductive. Of course, he would have the same thing going in his own life but it would perhaps be difficult for us to spot. He also has Moon quintile Venus and he definitely has a style/quality of emotional-physical comfort. He has Pluto quintile the AC, which would point to a style of showing up in the world that is powerful and intense. He has a tendency to come off as destructive and chaotic at times. There’s also a quintile aspect forming between Mercury in the 8th house and the MC which would hint to a public image that is colored by the “taboo” things he has said about his family in the recent present, but also in the past. He’s a public image that is aligning with the style of the playful amoral trickster.

As I’m going with charts I’ve already explored, let’s look at the quintiles in Meghan Markle’s chart. Her Venus is quintile Uranus and it perfectly describes her style of “wokeism”, that is, appearing to be objective and intelligent about feelings and affective values. She has a style of being “the loving humanitarian”. Whether she is this way in an actual sense is debatable. The quintile aspect is describing the quality and style not the actuality. But, it is disturbingly close to reality that it somehow becomes reality. It’s like the actor who adopts another energy signature in order to portray a different person. It doesn’t really matter if a person is rotten at the core - if he has a loving way of being, what difference does it make? The style is real enough to not reflect and give the impression of love.

Semi-square (45°) / Sesquiquadrate (135°)

These aspects are said to precipitate events. The nature of these two aspects is more immediate than the square aspect (which causes tension and doubt and needs constant navigation). The conflict represented is usually unconscious and is therefore not easy to identify. However, as these conflicts tend to manifest quite abruptly, we can take a look at the concrete problems the person faces. The planets connected by a semi-square/sesquiquadrate aspect will be in conflict but force some kind of release (that may result in an accident because of it’s autonomous/unconscious function).

I have Saturn sesquiquadrate my Moon. Since I tend to unconsciously block my emotional responses, the pressure builds and I am “forced” to get out of a situation, “forced to listen to my emotions”. I have encountered the theory that the sesquiquadrate in particular is manifesting as something that is looked down upon societally. This would make sense considering the aspect forces a breakout of one of the planets and nothing that is immediate and abrupt is ever favorably looked upon when it comes to social-societal structure and predictability. I have been meaning to take on commitments that would further my status in society in terms of formal education (Saturn in the 9th conjunct the MC) but I have not been able to do it without considerable decline in my emotional well-being. So, I have been “thrown out” by unconscious forces every time I’ve tried.

My sister has her Venus sesquiquadrate Saturn. She’s known for her deliberate and strategic way of dressing. She plans her outfits carefully, there’s nothing haphazard about the way she presents herself. However, she has Lilith conjunct Venus so she can push the limits and simply do what she pleases sometimes as well when the pressure of Saturn becomes too much. But, this often causes external judgment. A relative of mine has her Sun semi-square Venus. I can tell that she’s highly aware of her appearance. She is very pretty but there’s always something that is a bit off between what she wears and her self-expression. It’s like it doesn’t quite fit and it’s irritating.

To get back to the celebrities, Meghan Markle has Neptune sesquiquadrate Mercury. Is it possible that this forces distortion and vagueness in opinion and communication? It would certainly fit the bill. She also has Uranus sesquiquadrate Mars. She simply has to “break out of her confining situations”, cut people out of her life and move on in her own way. Uranus is also sesquiquadrate her MC, which seems to point to her unconscious pull to “do what she wants to do” at the detriment of her public image and reputation. Notably, Uranus sits in her 5th house of personal enjoyment and creation.

Prince Harry has a semi-square between Mars and Pluto. When he is angry it blossoms into rage and he can’t see straight. It has gotten him into quite a lot of trouble and societal-social disapproval. It seems that this is a common theme with the sesquiquadrate and semi-square. He also has his Moon sesquiquadrate Jupiter. Isn’t it the case that he tends to indulge in a way that makes him look bad in society?

Quincunx (150°)

This aspect is typically found between planets incompatible by element and mode. Basically, they have nothing in common and have a hard time cooperating, which will cause minor stress in the individual because of necessity to work around the incompatibilities. The planets are not in direct conflict but they are uncomfortable with each other.

For example, I have my Moon quincunx Mercury. Every time I sit down to write I’m mildly disturbed by little things like an aching back, a headache, restless legs or whatever. It’s not very comfortable for me but I can still keep with it, however it might take a toll on me health wise. The quincunx has been related to health issues because of the mild stress that it causes. It is manageable and one is usually able to cope with the stress, but it’s not very pleasant. Because it is not as demanding as more disturbing conflicts in one’s life, it’s in the background causing irritation.

Meghan Markle’s Venus makes a quincunx aspect to her MC. This suggests that she has a hard time reflecting her value on a public level, it’s as if how she’s perceived publicly disturbs her sense of ease and comfort. She has an Aries MC with a Virgo Venus and she’s continuously depicted as a bully these days, as some kind a selfish and aggressive bitch (the more negative attributes of Aries). This must be undermining her self-worth immensely, however, it’s perhaps too minor of a problem to do anything about. It is still there nonetheless, harping on in the background, breaking her down and causing slow disintegration…

Semi-sextile (30°)

Planets forming semi-sextile aspects are said to be able to aid each other, to have a better connection than if they had no link at all. Usually one planet is in the sign that comes before the sign of the other; in other words, a semi-sextile might be forming between Mars in Aries and Venus in Taurus. The semi-sextile usually connects consecutive sign like this, but planets could be in semi-sextile in the same sign, like Mars in 0° Taurus semi-sextile Venus in 30° Taurus. In any case, the planet placed at an earlier degree or in the earlier sign can draw on qualities of the planet in the later degree or the later sign and vice versa. For example, Prince Harry’s Venus in Libra is semi-sextile his MC. He can draw on his sense of harmony a diplomacy to benefit his public image. His Mars in Sagittarius is also semi-sextile his MC, which makes it so that he can draw from his Martial qualities of energy and action to influence his career and success.

Parallel/Contra-parallel

These are called aspects in declination because they are measured by latitude and not by longitude. This essentially means that two planetary bodies can aspect each other in a certain way measuring the distance between them north-south of the celestial equator. Two planets at the same degree north and south of the equator form a parallel aspect and can be interpreted the same as a conjunction (some say that it's more obscure like a quincunx/semi-square). Two planets opposite each other north and south form a contra-parallel aspect and can be interpreted as an opposition (some say that it's basically the same as the parallel though).

I have found, looking at my own chart that these aspects only confirms already existing aspects measured by longitude or it confirms the sign that a specific angle is in. For example, my MC is in Aries and it is also parallel Mars. Mars is the ruler of Aries so it emphasizes my already martial MC. My Sun is conjunct Saturn and it’s also parallel Saturn. My sister has a Scorpio MC and it’s also parallel Pluto, the natural ruler of Scorpio. For example, my sister has a wide Moon-Mars conjunction (6°) but they are also in contra-parallel. How is this supposed to be interpreted? I would simply see it as Moon-Mars is connected strongly despite the orb being a little wide with the conjunction.

However, it’s not always the case that parallel and contra-parallel aspects only confirms already existing influences. They can also add themes and connections. My sister doesn’t have any longitude aspects between Saturn and Uranus but they are contra-parallel to each other.

Septile (51.43° - a 1/7 of the 360°)

It is said to indicate a hidden flow of energy between the planets involved, an inner sensitivity to the spiritual dimension of the planets. Another description I have come across is that the planets “darkly interact” and there’s an occult theme surrounding the connection.

I have Venus septile Jupiter in my own chart. Going by the said method of interpretation, it would mean that I have sensitivity to the hidden wealth and underlying beauty and abundance in life. I think it is quite accurate.

Novile (40° - 1/9 of the 360°)

Is said to be describing a contact of perfection/idealization. It also seems to have something to do with spiritual awakening and growth, lack of fear and freedom.

Having Sun novile Saturn for example could be interpreted as a feeling of communion with the world and life itself through responsibility and the control one can exercise through self-expression.

----

There are of course other minor aspects to explore, but I'll stop here for now.