#not to be a real person on here but i start getting my life on track and bam ! life tells me to kiIl myself for real this time

[pepperpatrol]

You can always recognize an office worker in a customer bc these guys felt so put upon and affronted by being asked to stay home during all of that that they just fucking forgot how to act in public. They demand things and say things to my face that they never would have before. I've been directly called a bitch and physically threatened more times in the last 4 years than I was in the entire decade of working in service positions beforehand.

I used to like people, man. People would act like we were beneath them for being service workers sometimes but before all that I think a majority of people were polite enough. I just don't give a shit about the complaints of people who were not essential workers unless those complaints are that they want to go back to working remotely because covid isn't fucking over. There is no complaint they can possibly have that can compare to having to be face to face with 100s of people every day that made it abundantly clear that they were (and are) willing to sacrifice your life for their convenience.

im not saying office jobs aren’t bad in some ways but its always very telling when people treat it like the WORST job at the bottom of the rung…because they have never had to face manual labor as a real option they would ever be forced to take.

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: ellie makes a new friend, and you feel all weird about it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.6k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

okay so i feel like the way i've organized this series is kind of confusing as it started as a random blurb... technically part one is this blurb however the real story starts in the xmas fic! the blurb just kind of exists floating around somewhere before the events of that and sets up the dynamic. call it part 0.5 i guess. also i'm so sorry if ur name is haley it was genuinely the first name i thought of hahaha

after christmas, once you’re all settled back into life at college, ellie gets a new job. it’s just a few shifts a week at a music store, but she seems to be enjoying it. you’re happy for her; it’s nice to see her getting out of the apartment more, doing something that allows her to be in her element.

but then she starts mentioning a girl she works with. like, a lot.

“dude, look at what haley sent me today, i was dying.”

“haley had, like, the coolest shirt on at work.”

“oh my god, so i found out haley likes comics, too.”

at first, it doesn’t really bother you. then, it’s a case of you trying not to let it bother you. why even should it? she’s allowed to make new friends; her life doesn’t revolve around you.

still, you don’t like the way your chest starts to twist every time she gets mentioned, every time you see ellie smiling at her phone. you can hear them on facetime frequently through the thin walls of your apartment, and you more often than not end up shoving your headphones in to drown it out.

they start spending time together outside of work, too. she mentions that they’re going to see an exhibit together on a shared day off, and it takes everything for you to look up from your laptop, give her a tight smile and utter, “cool.”

you can tell she’s a bit dispirited by your reaction, like she’s debating saying something. she leaves it, though, just nodding once and pursing her lips before walking away. you kick yourself for it immediately — wishing you’d tried harder to appear enthusiastic for her. you’re worried it could be the seed of a wedge being driven.

it’s not like she’s completely neglected your friendship. you live together. you see her every day. she still gently knocks at your ajar door, poking her head around and asking if you want to watch a movie with her. you make dinner together on friday nights, something you’d done since you moved out of the dorms and got a semi-decent place.

you’re just so used to it being the two of you. sure, you both have other friends, but you’re best friends. you can’t help but feel a little uneasy all of a sudden someone new is making their way up the ladder, ellie not having quite as much time for you anymore.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself the reason is. you know the real one.

you eventually meet the esteemed haley when she comes over to hang out, and to your petty dismay she well and truly lives up to the boasting. you’ve seen pictures of her (as in, you found her on instagram and stalked her at two in the morning), but she’s even prettier in person. she’s sweet, too, giving you a hug and saying how great it is to finally meet you. ellie talks about you all the time, apparently.

the evening’s spent with the tv on, a few drinks sipped. you’re on one side of the couch, ellie on the other, new friend in the middle. you hate how genuinely likeable she is; she goes out of her way to speak to you, asking you questions about yourself and chatting jovially when you find common ground. she’s cool, smart, witty — it’s impossible not to compare yourself, and feel subpar. like old news.

and you wish you weren’t, but you’re reading into every little thing. the way the two of them easily bounce off of each other’s jokes, the way you can see even where you’re from how ellie’s eyes light up when she looks at her. deciding three’s a crowd and you’re just hurting your own feelings, you call it pretty early.

when you stand after finishing your drink and announce that you’re going to bed, you note the way that ellie’s face drops. “oh… really?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to sound untroubled. “yeah, i’m kinda tired, so…”

“m’kay,” she replies, chewing slightly at the inside of her cheek. she knows you better than that. since you first met, you’ve never been ‘kinda tired’ by nine.

after a pause and a quick look back and forth between the two of you, haley gives you a smile, reiterating her earlier statement. “well, it was so nice to meet you, anyway.”

you return it, nodding. your eyes flit to ellie for a split-second. “yeah, you too. see you both later.”

with that, you place your glass in the sink across the room and head off down the hall.

you change and get ready for bed, although the plan was never to sleep. you’re nestled under a blanket, lights dim and a candle burning as you keep your eyes trained on the bullshit stream of youtube videos you’d put on. you’re not really paying attention, mind well and truly elsewhere; simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself, and like the most petty, mean person in the world.

you feel pathetic for wishing ellie’s new friend wasn’t so easy to get along with. she came off as a nice person, and not in a sickly, fabricated way. you could understand how she’d easily tugged ellie out of her shell. a part of yourself had been secretly hoping she was irritating, or bitchy, or weird towards you — you just wanted something to latch onto, something to validate all the uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling ever since she became prominent.

but there was nothing. now all you’re left with is a weird bitterness towards a perfectly normal, sweet girl, her only crime being fetching up a childish possessiveness within you.

you don’t even understand why you’re like this over her in particular; ellie was always an introvert, but it wasn’t like she was a complete recluse. she’d had a serious girlfriend in high school, seen a couple of girls your first year of college, and you don’t remember feeling anywhere near how you are right now. you just guessed you didn’t have as much understanding of how you looked at her back then, combined with the domesticity of now having your own real place luring you into a warped way of thinking.

you hear haley leave around an hour and a half after you’d taken yourself to bed, followed by ellie shuffling around the kitchen space. the tap runs and there are a few clinks as she washes then places the three glasses to dry, hitting the lights off. her room’s further down the hall from yours, and she hesitates as she’s making her way there.

a few light taps sound from the other side of the door. “you asleep?”

“… no,” you call out softly, watching as it cracks open and ellie picks her way in. wordlessly, she plops herself onto the bed next to you, arm behind her head. you shift away a little, offering her more room.

“what’re you watching?”

“uh…” grabbing the remote, you pause the video for a beat so the title shows. you’re not even sure; you’d just selected the first you saw, then let the rest autoplay. “… ‘six most disturbing forest encounters caught on camera’.”

she chuckles. “spooky.”

“eh… they’re all fake.” you look up at her, smiling a little.

“could’ve fooled me.”

“i’m sure,” you laugh lightly, feeling the need to turn away when she goes to meet your eyes.

it’s quiet for a while, but you can sense she wants to say something. it’s not like one of the times she waltzes into your room simply to hang out, sit at the side of one another peacefully.

“you okay?” she eventually asks gently, turning her head to regard you. you don’t meet it.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? ‘cause… i don’t know. you seem a little…”

“i’m all good.” glancing up, you offer an unconvincing, flickery smile. “don’t worry.”

“… okay.”

you can tell it offers no comfort, but she doesn’t push it. just settles further into the bed, scratching at her chin.

her eyes dart from the tv screen to the wall, then back to you. “haley’s cool, right? guessed you guys would get along.”

“yeah, she seems nice.”

she’s really not being subtle; but then again, neither are you. you’d been perfectly friendly while you were all together, but the way you’d disappeared coupled with your increasingly half-hearted responses whenever she was brought up pointed elsewhere.

“seriously, what’s up?” she turns onto her side to face you, resting her head on her arm. “i don’t like this.”

you roll your eyes, sighing as you turn, mirroring her. “it’s stupid.”

“what’s stupid?”

your mind flashes with a million ways you can get an overview of your feelings out, without having to tell her the root cause. “i don’t know, i’m just… like, used to it being… y’know, me and you.”

she pulls a face, letting out a fond scoff and furrowing her brow. “what do you mean?”

a tiny groan sounds from your throat, fingertips rubbing at your eye. “i’m just being stupid. fuckin’ embarrassing.”

laughing quietly again, she narrows her eyes a little. “what, are you, like… jealous?”

“no, i just… i don’t know. ignore me.” you’re trying to ignore the way you can feel your cheeks heat up when she says that word. you’d known all along that’s what you were, but being confronted with it is a whole other sensation entirely.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps a small smirk on her face and looks down. “that is stupid.”

“right. thanks.”

“no, like…” subconsciously shuffling closer, her leg brushes yours. she quickly moves it. “dude, i can have other friends, but no-one’s gonna be you.”

you blink, thrown by her sincerity. you’d half-expected her to poke a little fun, call you a dumbass. she continues, your eyes meeting hers as she settles her head into the palm of her hand. “you’re always gonna be my best friend.”

yeah, i know, you think. that’s the problem.

[archangeldyke-all]

I’m BEGGING for angst to fluff to casual by Chappell with Sevika

I’m PLEADING for “working opening shifts/weekday shifts when Sevika doesn’t come in at the last drop” to Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers and reader falls in love with Sevika once they finally meet. (I will physically pay you for this one xx)

ohhhh my gosh the phoebe one..... holy shit...

listen to punisher here

men and minors dni

i love a good place to hide in plain sight...

you're one of the most popular nameless faces in zaun.

you know the name of every of the last drop's regular customers. you overhear gossip and plans and drama about some of the biggest people in the city. the liquor you slide across the bar for a living makes everybody's lips loose, and you know more secrets than any one person should know.

but nobody knows your name.

customers call theiram 'chuck.'

they call you 'doll.'

you don't mind it. knowing how to go unnoticed, how to keep your head down-- that's what's kept you alive this long in zaun.

but it gets lonely.

when there's a birthday at the bar, you're the one to pass out party hats and pull out the sparklers. last year, you ate a cupcake alone on your front porch to celebrate your own.

when you bump into strangers on the street on your walks home, you apologize with a duck of your head. it's either your familiar face and the fact that you pour their drinks; or the meek way you shrink in on yourself-- but they let you go each time.

when you clock out, if you're lucky, you'll time your leaving to overlap with sevika's arrival. and, for just a moment, you can pretend that she knows you as well as you know her.

what if i told you i feel like i know you?

you've known sevika your whole life.

you're certain she doesn't recall, but when you were children, sevika caught you shivering and cold-- the cardboard box you were living in soaked through with rain. she lent you a jacket and all the pocket change she had. she even smiled at you.

you were a barback when she was running with vander. you were there when she turned her back on the man-- when she chose her city over her friend.

you were there to watch her deteriorate under silco's employ. first her arm, then the various beatings she'd be doled each month, then the arrival of the dark bags under her eyes.

on occasion, she'll get belligerently drunk, loitering at the bar far after close, there to greet you when you open again the next day. on these days, you're the one to give her a glass of water and walk her home safely. her home is always a mess. the star patterned blanket you pull over her shoulders is so old it must be from her childhood.

but we never met...

silco dies, and everything goes to shit.

there's a week there where you're too busy avoiding the grey to worry about work.

and then there's the war.

and then...

the last drop is just a pile of rubble. jinx and isha are just as dead as the bar. and sevika is named ambassador.

here everyone knows you're the way to my heart. hear so many stories of you at the bar. most times alone, and some looking your worst. but never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers...

ran and thieram rebuild the bar. they offer you a job. you're right back where you've always been-- standing behind a bar and eavesdropping on people with real lives.

from time to time, you'll hear about sevika.

sevika, who's lost everything. sevika, who lives in piltover now. the thought makes you snort-- you can only imagine the glare permanently imprinted on her face now.

sevika starts welfare programs for zaun, slowly but surely. schools open, widows and orphans are paid, and more bridges start being built across the river.

sevika doesn't smoke. sevika doesn't drink. she quit for a girl who's dead now. but occasionally you'll hear that she's been sulking around piltoverian bars, nursing a fizzy juice and looking haunted.

you'll hear that she doesn't scowl at people who approach her anymore, instead, she signs pictures of herself with a resigned smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

you'll hear rumors that ambassador sevika can sometimes be heard quietly crying from her office.

sometimes, you'll walk by her old apartment. you wonder who lives there now. you wonder if she remembers those walks, if she remembers you.

you know she doesn't.

still, it doesn't stop you from crying for her.

i can't open my mouth and forget how to talk, 'cause even if i could i wouldn't know where to start, wouldn't know when to stop.

sevika's all alone in piltover and you're all alone in zaun. you wish you'd said something to her but you don't know when you could've.

maybe when you were kids, though you didn't know you were in love with her then.

maybe when you were strangers, though she would've simply laughed at your words.

maybe before she left zaun, though it happened so fucking fast.

you trail down the winding streets of the city she built, sipping on a bottle of her favorite whiskey, crying for her. for how lonely she must be. for how much she lost. you find yourself in front of her old home, like your feet have a mind of their own.

for a moment, you let yourself close your eyes and pretend that you're walking her home again. the woman you've loved your whole life-- the woman who doesn't know your name. you imagine the drunken slur of her voice, the stumble of her mis-matched boots, the warmth of her arm around your shoulders.

"dollface?" someone asks. your eyes fly open, and you blink at the woman in front of you. "what're you doin' here?"

sevika's wearing pajamas, her hair's a mess. she's got sand in her eyes that she's rubbing gently as she examines you from her front stoop.

you blink then stumble forward, reaching a shaky hand out to grab sevika's shoulder. she's real, solid and warm under your grasp. you gasp.

"have you been crying?" sevika whispers, her voice soft, her touch even softer as she reaches up to cup your cheeks.

there are a million things you want to say. i love you. i miss you. i am so sorry for you. for what happened to you. what are you doing here, don't you live in piltover? you look so tired. let me hold you, just for a day? let me tell you every single thing i love about you, i've got a list that's thirty years in the making. do you know who i am? do you know my real name? do you remember the nights you'd walk home with me under your arm? do you know those were the best nights of my life? do you remember when we were kids and you lent me your jacket? do you know i still sleep with it under my pillow?

but sevika's time with the pilties must've really softened her up, because instead of telling you to scram or spit it out, sevika reaches forward and pulls you in for a hug. "it's good to see you." she whispers against your shoulder.

you sob as you cling to her.

you don't think you'll ever stop crying.

you don't think you'll ever let go.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

[hotvintagepoll]

Ray Bolger (The Wizard of Oz)—It's me, the person who wanted to fuck the scarecrow last time. I still want to fuck the scarecrow. You don't know what he means to me. If I could humiliate myself in front of my entire class with an in depth power point slide presentation on ""why ray bolger is a great dancer"" (translation: I Want To Fuck The Scarecrow) then you can help me in preaching his gospel on the internet.

Pablo Alvarez Rubio (Dracula)—it’s fucking craaaazy he plays renfield but it’s like if you took dwight frye’s renfield (already 4 inches tall and bisexual and mentally ill) and crumpled him up and badly flattened him back out again. he’s in a permanent flop sweat he has eyeliner he has a heap of curly greasy black hair he’s got a big cute nose and big sad brown eyes. it’s such a good role if you like a guy who whimpers. he’s sooo scrumply but in real life pablo was a boxer so like. how did he crumple himself up into that sad sopping wet tragic floor puppy so effectively

This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Pablo Alvarez Rubio:

"make sure you’re on the 4th video at this link (Dracula (Spanish)) then you’ll want the scene starting at 37:30 . i’m sorry it’s in spanish but in short he talks about being a lawyer and then gets distracted by needing to catch a fly."

[editor's note: please watch the link above. it is truly exemplary.]

Ray Bolger:

An absolutely adorable icon! With his rubber-faced expression, and fantastic dancing skills, he is always a delight to watch.

[msfantasy-comics]

The Wayne Twins

Twin!Damian Wayne x Twin!Reader

Summary: a requested story on how Damian and Reader are twins. Talia gave up reader to Bruce, but kept Damian secretly. Damian arrives in and finally meets his father and sister.

A/n: Honestly I was so stuck with this request so I kinda just left it with an abrupt end, I tried my darnedest.

Damian has a strong held belief that his family dynamic is incredibly messy. Future psychologists will use the Al Ghul Family as a case study in their research… figuratively of course, no one can know of the Al Ghul family- let alone their issues.

Damians swears he’s not just some angsty pre-teen cursing his family for being the worst. His grandfather is the head of an elite assassination and expects him to take over the family business… killing people. Try having a narcissistic mother who started training her newborn before the umbilical cord was even cut and kills you at any given point as part of your training only to bring you back to life in the Lazarus pit... yeah, it’s messy.

Even worse. Try having a father, who no one dares to speak of. Did Damian’s father abandon him? Or is he dead? Does he even know about Damian? Does he even care?

Damian wasn’t sure. And it was clear that no one was going to supply any answers.

If Damian wanted to meet his father, he’ll have no choice but to seek him out. It was evident his mother was never intending to share any information for the foreseeable future.

Finally.

After months of unrelenting search, Damian finally uncovered the truth.

Bruce Wayne, Gothams wealthiest man is his biological father. And really, Damian isn’t surprised his father is so accomplished, it’s all simple genetics.

But the real cut-throat realisation came when Damian realised that Bruce was unaware of Damian’s existence, and that Bruce had other adopted children in his place.

Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake and Y/n Wayne.

As the rightful heir, there’s nothing more frustrating than seeing others gain what is rightfully yours.

But it wasn’t until Damian stood at the front door of Wayne Manner had he realised with great certainty that Y/n might actually be a blood relative.

Ignoring the fact they look nothing alike, Y/n had similar features to Bruce, or maybe it’s that Y/n had the same mannerisms as her father. Considering she was pictured with Bruce since a baby, it’s natural to pick up the same behavioural mannerisms as the person who raised you.

“Okay kid- how’d you get over the electric fence, laser sensors and bypass security cameras?” You drawl taking a slurp of your boxed juice as you stare out boredly at the unexpected visitor.

“Kid?! We are the same age!” Damian defends as you look down at him from the tip of your nose.

“Hmmm- sureeee…” Your condescending tone grates irritably on Damian’s nerves.

“I am here to reinstate my rightful place as father’s legitimate blood-son.” Your face sours as you stare down at Damian.

“Oh yeah? Who’s your mother?” You snort decisively. There’s no fucking way you’d even entertain such a claim.

“Tahlia Al Ghul.”

Well shit.

[gayofthefae]

"I should have explained myself because maybe then Eleven would have taken me with her, but - I don't know. I didn't know what to say."

That isn't what he said the first time.

"I should have said something. And maybe if I had said that thing, Eleven would want me there with her."

The sentiment of him being with her and knowing/ensuring she's safe is consistent. But he isn't actually repeating himself. There's no need for him to as a person and as a screenwriter, repetition should DEFINITELY be cut.

He's changing. He's brainstorming. He's starting to consider other angles of the "could have"s. The "what if"s.

He starts with "what if I'd just forced an 'I love you'". But I think he likely settles on what we can logically deduce for ourselves in that situation - "I made the right choice prioritizing with what I knew of the consequences at the time".So he changes. He changes.

He changes to "I should have explained myself".

"Explained myself" is NOT the same as "said that thing" and that is VITAL.

I should have just sucked it up and told her I loved her if it meant keeping her safe.

No, I did the best I could with the information I had

I should have told her the truth. Maybe she would have taken it better if I had just told her that I don't love her but it's my fault, not hers. Now she thinks it's hers and that I'm hiding it.

And, perfect timing, Will comes in with (in Mike's pov) "It makes sense why you didn't, though, don't beat yourself up. She was gonna get hurt either way and everything would have been a risk as to how much."

And Mike nods. And the next time we see him, he's saying

"Will she still even want me in her life if I can't give her the love she wants? All I can do now is to make sure she knows it isn't her fault, that's the selfless act I can do for her, but if I confess I don't love her, what other use am I to her? Will doing what's best for her by telling her it's not her fault, it's mine, instead of continuing to lie make me lose her?"

He says "explain". He starts with "maybe I should have changed the 'what'". Then he shifts to "maybe I should changed what she thought of the 'why'". Ironically, his question in the van once he's come to that conclusion is "how?".

The first pitch he makes is "maybe I should have told her I loved her" and Will says "don't worry, you'll have another chance", and he turns away and introspectively reacts with

aversion.

But then he says "maybe I should have just explained the real reason behind my actions instead of denying them all together" and Will says "that's a scary thing to do. It's a hard decision. You're doing your best", and he turns away and introspectively reacts with

understanding.

Honestly, being understood. And sometimes that's what you need to find understanding. He's been confused this whole time, that's been his whole thing, but he looks like he's starting to piece something together now - finally. Will put his own feelings into words for him to hear out loud so could finally get them and get them in a validated way.

Instinctively, he knew the first one was easier but wrong. He didn't want to lie to her. Both times Will said "if that's what you want to do, I believe in you", but only once did he agree. He knew it felt like the wrong choice the first time and you can see it. The second time was a new choice he was considering.

And you know what? While we're here. Telling her he loves her: aversion. Telling her the truth: understanding and drive. What happens next?

He expresses "what if when I tell her the truth, as I've decided is the right choice, she appreciates it but doesn't need me for anything else beyond that?" And Will says "she'll stay. You got this.", and he reacts with

Comfort.

He didn't know what to do. Then he did, but he was scared to do it. Then he wasn't so scared anymore.

He's thrilled to see her and forgets for a second but - much like El with Will on roller rink day - is reminded by seeing Will that now that she's actually here, it's real. He's committed to his actions and they're impending.

But he's not so scared anymore. Bravery, though, doesn't mean no nerves. He's hesitant and not happy looking when he talks to her about it first. He tries to lighten the mood - "the whole world went to shit and everything" - and he's watching her reactions like a hawk. It feels like less of a risk now enough that he can do it, but not so little that he isn't scared. Either way though, it's worth the risk for her to know the problem isn't her.

He didn't know what to do. Now he does. He was scared, but he's not as much anymore. Not too much to do it. They're interrupted. Okay, oh well, he'll find another time.

And now to break your heart:

Mike had an idea, Will said it was good, but Mike met that with aversion.

Mike had an idea, Will said it was good, Mike met that with understanding and agreement.

Mike was scared, Will said he had no reason to be, Mike met that with comfort.

(I'm sorry) Mike was scared for El - unrelated - and looked to Will for comfort - as he had every other time - when he tapped him on the shoulder, Will said he should tell her he loves her, and he reacts with

anguish.

This was not Mike's plan.

This was not their plan, so he thought.

Mike's reaction tells us everything about what he knew and what he meant for what's to come. This was not what he meant. That was not what he was going to say. This was not his plan.

And there's that part of you too that always wishes to go back to semi-ignorant bliss. Even if just panicked confusion. Because wasn't it nice: when telling her you loved her evoked this

And not this

Wasn't it nice when you knew...just a little less?

Wasn't it nice, in a way, when you couldn't see the happy ending so clearly?

Don't you sort of miss - when you couldn't taste it?

also fuck it for just for that list bit and the bridge of this song here's my illicit affairs edit linked because "you showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else"

[gotta-winwin]

squidgame!wonwoo x reader

cw/tw: references to squid game, blood, guns, dark!wonwoo, lost!reader, angst, ambiguous ending a/n: squid game s2 has been living rent free in my head these past few weeks (yim siwan has reentered the serena residence as well) and i couldn't help but think... wonwoo frontman angst?

frontman!wonwoo feels immune to the gore and pain. He barely bats an eye now, watching the games run from his spot on the couch, observing through a large flat screen tv. It no longer feels real, as if he was just watching a movie. The sounds of those gunshots used to deafen both his heart and his ear, but now they’re strangely silent, missing his hearing altogether. 

frontman!wonwoo remembers how he used to cry over losing you, body shaking as he begged to the sky, his chest aching with love that had nowhere to go. A past long forgotten - until he’d wake up covered in sweat, his hands shaking, cupping an invisible face he could touch but not see. He barely remembers the reason he lost you - but he sees your face clearly. 

frontman!wonwoo, who never planned to have the job he had now. You had always praised him for being a hard worker, always able to climb his way to the top - even if he had to crawl to get there. It felt like a curse now, as he oversaw the games, a mask replacing his usual glasses. He wore contacts now - the feeling of your hands fixing his glasses that would always sit crooked against his face haunted him, even to this day. 

frontman!wonwoo, who justifies his actions by telling himself it’s not really his fault. It’s not like he’s physically killing those people, and they did give consent! He argues with the better half of himself that life was never especially kind to him, so why should he? In fact, life had been rather cruel - taking you from his reach and trapping him in this cold world. 

frontman!wonwoo scoffs at the people begging him to save their lives. After all, why should he? The question only infuriates him: he couldn’t even save the only person he’s ever loved in this life and they’re asking him to save them? Your disappearance and running the games had changed him - he knew, even if you did return, you’d never love this version of him. 

frontman!wonwoo brings in one of the triangle guards below him, prepared to scold them for going against the rules he had set - no communication with players, no matter the circumstance. He finds himself pausing, as he listens to their reasoning: something about the player being sick and needing the bathroom after hours, and for the first time in a long time, he feels his face relaxing. 

frontman!wonwoo doesn’t understand why he had let the guard off so easily. There was just something about the way they spoke, even covered under the heavy voice modulation, the tone and inflections tugged at his stomach and heartstrings. He found it odd and not at all like him. 

frontman!wonwoo, who slowly becomes entranced by the guard, watching their every move on footage, ignoring the games in front of him. His once calculated and orderly days crumble, leaving him grappling with the idea that just maybe, past!wonwoo was beginning to fight his way out again.

frontman!wonwoo, who starts ordering the guard in more often under the guise of ‘maintenance’ or ‘reprimands.’ He never speaks much, asking a few questions here and there - but instead he listens, ordering the guard to speak, to say anything, to tell him anything. He listens, wholly concentrated on their cadence, desperately trying to pinpoint where he’s heard it from. 

frontman!wonwoo, who hesitates to pull the trigger for the first time since he had first started working for the game. He stares at the young woman before him, her eyes quivering with tears, a brave expression on her face - staring death head-on. Lowering the gun, he gestures for her to run. Leave, he tells her quietly, a part of him still amazed at his own actions. 

frontman!wonwoo, who doubles down on the cruelty once he realizes he’s been slipping. As if he were trying to recondition himself, Wonwoo takes it upon himself to be twice as unforgiving, white hot anger directed solely at himself for letting his guard down. 

frontman!wonwoo, who looks at you with bewildered eyes as you take off your mask, dropping it to the floor as you stare down the barrel of his gun. You’ve had enough - unable to watch him destroy both himself and others, stepping in front of him with heartache coursing through your veins. His eyes widen subtly as he stares, mouth open, the muscles trying to remember how to speak your name. 

frontman!wonwoo, who calls out your name with a slight rasp, his throat closing up as he lowers the gun, arms falling uselessly to his sides. You look the same as the last day he saw you, staring at him with helpless eyes as you looked around, the piles of dead bodies staring back at you. 

At the end of the day, it was the stark contrast of seeing you surrounded by blood and death that jolted frontman!wonwoo out of his stupor. The sight was obscene, sinful (not in the good way) and just not right. His arms reached out to grab you as he neared, frantic eyes roaming across your features to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

frontman!wonwoo, who abandons his job and respobsiblites with your miraculous return. He doesn’t care about the target now on his back, happy to fight through fire and ice to keep you by his side - promising you the life he couldn’t give you before: normalcy. Wonwoo yearns for it, to regain the uneventful yet fulfilling life he had once shared with you, leaving the mess behind. 

[bugbart]

Hello! I wanted to make a proper commission post going into the new year, and share my current offerings:

Character Illustration: $100 USD

A fullbody, colored illustration of a character of your choosing! OC or canon are welcome. I specialize in colorful fantasy characters, but will gladly do other genres as well !

I will NOT do:

- anthro/furry characters*

- mecha*

- real life people (i.e. YouTubers, celebrities, drawings of your family)

*if you are unsure if something counts, please don’t hesitate to ask!

Magic Weapon Design: $50 USD

Need reference for a custom weapon/item? Well look no further!

You will recieve: A fully colored illustration of your weapon design, for personal use!

YCH: MAEV VS YOUR OC: $50+ USD

Have you ever wanted to see your oc to get pinned Rhea Ripley style by my super hot and muscular half-orc girlie Maev? (Ive seen the tags you leave, dont lie). Now you can!

any gender oc is welcome as long as they are an adult & humanoid in nature. Add ons available. (This ych started as a joke on Bluesky but people really liked the idea, so here we are!)

Availability, References, and More information available on my Ko-Fi!

PAYMENTS IN USD, PREFERRABLY THROUGH KO-FI, however V*nmo or P*yPal can be arranged by request!

🤖🚫 I do not consent to any of my art, including commissions being used for AI training. Do not send me AI generated images as reference.

[spikeface]

Theo & der Soldat

Still thinking about the fact that Theo instantly recognizes Douglas, despite the fact that der Soldat looked very different when he was in a tube of magical goo. 

Even stranger, Douglas immediately recognizes Theo.

When the two of them finally have a moment alone together, they speak, in my humble opinion, like they’ve spoken before (6x07):

THEO: Have you been here the whole time?

DOUGLAS: How could I stay away?

THEO: Maybe you should tell them who you really are... Hauptmann.

So when did they talk?

I like to think that at some point, years before Theo comes back to Beacon Hills, the Doctors decide that der Soldat might be more useful in a different way. They get him out of the tube, make sure he can’t go anywhere, and then proceed with their experiments.

Which leaves a let’s-say-12-year-old Theo to babysit a furious Nazi German alpha werelion from the 1940s. 

It’s a mess at first. Theo’s used to strangers in the lab, but it’s usually kids, and they’re always easy to quiet. The stranger is loud. Theo has no idea what he’s saying. He yells and yells until Theo breaks out the kanima venom, the same way the Doctors used to do with him. That finally shuts the stranger up.

Eventually, the stranger starts to ask about things. Slowly, he learns English, while Theo learns German.

“Hauptmann,” says the man, when Theo tells him his own name. Theo learns enough German to know that’s not a name, but whatever. He doesn’t care about this guy’s fancy titles. The real power is the ability to leave the labs, which only Theo has. 

The soldier calls him boy, but Theo doesn’t mind that either, after the way the Doctors only call him Theo Raeken, like he’s one of their Latin ingredients.

Once the man learns to speak English, he talks a lot.

It’s nice. He’s probably the safest things in the lab: always tied up, regularly monitored by the Doctors, and clearly aware of the fact that anything he wants has to come through Theo. He’s funny, sometimes. Sarcastic. He learns things quickly. He lets Theo teach him what the modern world is like. They watch cartoons together on Theo’s fancy new iPhone, Hauptmann eating Apple Jacks, Theo’s favorite cereal. Hauptmann says it’s disgusting but he always finishes his bowl. He laughs at the cartoons.

Hauptmann teaches Theo what he knows: mainly how to kill people, and also a little bit of 1940s physics.

He’s not a bad teacher. Theo tells him so.

“Before the war, I teached children,” says Hauptmann, the first thing he’s mentioned about his personal life.

"Taught,” Theo corrects, pleased with himself.

“Taught,” Hauptmann agrees.

Eventually, he confesses that his goal is still to run away. Theo scoffs. The Doctors can find anyone, anywhere. They don’t like loose ends and there’s no way to sense them coming. It’s no use. 

“You need more ambition,” Hauptmann chides. “There are forces in this world more powerful than them.”

“Like what?”

Hauptmann explains about the Wild Hunt. “It comes, it goes. There’s no stopping it. And I have a personal connection to the Ghost Riders.”

“What’s stopping you from calling them, then?”

“This place.” Hauptmann gestures to the labs. “It’s protected from electricity. The Doctors are afraid.”

Theo likes the sound of that. He’s never seen the Doctors afraid of anything. 

He does more research. The Ghost Riders can’t be controlled, he learns, but it’s possible to become one.

It’s not ideal. They look sort of gross, nothing like the perfect pack he was promised when he joined the Doctors. But it’s been years of nothing, with them. Theo can settle.

“I’ll help you get out of here,” he proposes warily, the next time the Doctors are gone, “and then you call the Wild Hunt.”

It’s risky, but Theo’s minimized the risk: all Hauptmann has to do is what he wants to do anyway, and Theo benefits. It’s a good plan. 

And him and Hauptmann are friends, sort of. Theo’s been nice to him. Apple Jacks and everything. That has to count for something.

Hauptmann agrees. 

Theo undoes his chains.

Hauptmann’s hands are instantly around his neck. Red eyes glare down at him viciously. Even a real beta probably couldn’t fight him off. Theo’s got no chance.

He’s going to die here.

Until suddenly, Hauptmann’s being hauled back by the Pathologist, while the Geneticist injects him with something. The Surgeon supervises as they drag him back to the vat.

Theo stands, coughing painfully, and watches Hauptmann kick and scream. Fuck him.

He turns more nervously to the Surgeon. The guy’s not gonna be happy about this. Things could get really bad.

But it’s useless to run.

Except, all that happens is that the Surgeon stares down at him with that clinical eye and rasps, “Failure is its own punishment.”

Then he turns away.

Theo is left with a slowly healing throat, a discomfiting gratitude for the Doctors, and a newfound commitment to getting the perfect pack--on his own, if the Doctors won’t help. Fuck settling.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive seen you say terusai is implied a lot but i dont remember ever seeing you explain why you think that

yeah now that you say it, i dont think ive ever gone into depth about it 😭 its really hard to put my thoughts into words because its sooo much, i started writing a long analysis recently on their relationship, why i believe they have feelings for each other, and why they would work but itll probably sit unfinished in my drafts for a while

for now, i'll give you a few of my most noteworthy thoughts...

the mixer scene has teruhashi unknowingly proving to saiki that her feelings are true, and he accepts that and stops trying to get her to stop pursuing him. i dont believe he ever actually makes any REAL effort to try to stop her from liking him ever again after this. he genuinely hadnt acknowledged her feelings as true or at least not as deep yet, which is why he thinks hes succeeding at getting her to move on until she proves that not only is she still thinking of him, but shes NOT thinking of a fake version of him... shes thinking of HIM... she genuinely enjoys his company even when hes doing nothing but sitting there (which is factually and obviously what he wouldve been doing in this situation, people deny that for some odd reason but like. thats what he does. with ANYONE. even his own family and everyone else who knows of his powers.) and wants him around... i think some part of him stopped because he felt guilty for not believing her feelings were true and trying to control her heart despite her genuine intentions, and another part of him was realizing that he doesnt WANT her to stop having feelings for him... otherwise, why would he drag the other guys away WHILE acknowledging that she wouldnt have gone with them anyway??? after inserting himself into a rock paper scissors game for who gets to be the one to be with her???? HELLO?

and the offu, although i dont believe it was a direct declaration of him being in love with her or whatever, has obvious canon romantic connotations... teruhashis determination is something saiki has admired about her since the very beginning, but it isnt until THIS moment that he thinks in depth about what that entails... she makes him realize all at once that she truly IS the type of person he admires most... and his "offu" is exactly what teruhashi needs, she would have a straight up epiphany if she knew about it, because he DIDNT gasp at how beautiful she is, or anything she forced herself to do, or when she forced herself to CHANGE, he ONLY gasped when she let herself embrace a part of herself that was REAL and TRUE, her unwavering dedication and pride.

THIS chapter is where they both have huge realizations about themselves and each other, and they both prove that theyre more than willing to meet in the middle for the other...

saiki lives his life forcing himself to blend into the background, not because he genuinely wants to but because hes afraid to be SEEN.

teruhashi lives her life forcing herself to be perfect and the center of attention, not because she genuinely enjoys it but because she believes she wont get the validation she feels she needs if she doesnt give everyone exactly what they want from her.

and yet, here saiki is, allowing himself to jump into the spotlight and be seen catching teruhashi out of nowhere and carrying her to the nurse. and here teruhashi is, allowing herself to be seen being imperfect, forgetting something, and not caring about her conversation with these men. FOR EACH OTHER. they both let themselves break down a wall because they care more about the other than about the fake selves they dedicate their entire lives to, THEIR GENUINE CARE FOR EACH OTHER GIVES THEM THE COURAGE TO DO THAT.

and this is probably the number one reason why i think their feelings for each other are implied... this alternate timeline is quite clearly one where saiki is more open with his friends, and he and teruhashi ARE DATING in this universe. theres absolutely no other explanation for the author writing that. he spelled out "IF SAIKI WERE MORE OPEN WITH HIS FRIENDS, HE WOULD BE DATING TERUHASHI"

the saiki of that timeline isnt exactly the same as the saiki we know of course, and their relationship will not develop in the same way, but theres clearly intention behind this and it wouldnt be written and called attention to if there was no significance, youd have to jump through hoops to deny that 😭

overall, i think they both have a lot of work to do on themselves before they can be in a relationship, but not only do i believe they WILL eventually get there but also that they both need each other on their personal journey to get to that point, or at least that they are and will continue to be important in the others journey there, and their romantic feelings for each other are so clear... these two are so important to one another...

[rapidhighway]

I like to think that if metal wasn't yknow, metal, he would go out of his way to NOT hate sonic. Not out of gratitude or anything but because he was programmed to hate sonic by eggman and he is so spiteful he refuses to hate sonic on principle just to piss off eggman. Sonic is like "hey! Now you're not a robot do you wanna go get lunch?" And metal is like (fists clenched so hard it hurts) (teeth grinding) "ok Bud" (death glare) sonic just thinks he doesn't know how to emote anything but anger but no thats just because he's talking to sonic. Existing around sonic pisses him off so much but hes like WE ARE FRIENDS. I DON'T HATE HIM. FUCK YOU, PROGRAMMING. I DO WHAT I WANT <- so mad his heart hurts

I think that's a pretty fun hc and it would be interesting but personally it opposes my own key hcs about Metal Sonic.

I like to think that he is not completely a slave to his programming or more like, there is actually a person in there, and not just a sentient robot but something strange, like a mix between metal and organic, just inherently, because of the way Metal was made (with Sonic's biodata - and Sonic is already weird on like a, metaphysical plane, he's like the universe's special guy).

I think him being a copy of Sonic specifically makes Metal a weird anomaly in the world and allows him more of a mind of his own and kind of a 'soul' or an 'energy' of an organic being. Similar to your hc I kind of treat programming Metal as a kind of mind control that he can fight off, but he doesn't because he doesn't really want to because the part of him that is capable of breaking free is conditioned by Eggman. Plus Metal's obsession with being the real Sonic and such.

(Due to all this I really like @/generic-sonic-fan's take on this in their fanfic Complex Inquiries, where Metal concludes that the way to move forward and be free to do whatever it wants is to just go its own way and never see Sonic again, just find a life that's completely away from Sonic etc, I really liked that.)

I actually think, that since Metal is used to being just angry and mostly only feeling hate all the time, with complete free will he would start defaulting to that. (he'd even hate Sonic for one more reason and that's for causing him to lose his robotic form - a thing he'd actually secretly wished to happen but once he is organic, he realizes it sucks and doesn't help him defeat Sonic at all, and his free will only confuses him more lmao, do here's an additional reason to despise Sonic)

But Metal trying to befriend Sonic despite everything just to experiment with breaking his mess of a brain after becoming free from his programming is a really interesting idea and I actually don't think it couldn't happen, I just don't think it would last lmao. Unless Metal worked very hard to forge himself a new identity that doesn't revolve around Sonic, but I don't think he would for a very long time.. He is literally too stubborn (just like sonic ^^) to give up his own identity like that. It means too much to him (just like Sonic ^^) But like, your idea would still be possible if, but it would take a whileeee, and idk if Metal, once he's trying to do his own thing and trying to get an identity, would be happy about completely siding with Sonic. He just needs something of his own that doesn't include Sonic or Eggman...

Ughh okay this is long, I just think it would take Metal a while to not be a shaking ball of hate about everything and everyone... And that his actions and personality as Eggman's henchman and evil robot run deeper than just his programming. And I'm not even saying I would write about Metal leaving Sonic completely behind to start leading a life of free will, I need him to stay and be center of the attention until he dies a horrible death or something idk yet xd so he wouldn't figure that out very quickly.

[mylovesstuffs]

Minghao is THAT type of boyfriend !

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Minghao is effortlessly cool, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his soft spots. He has this way of being so composed and graceful, yet when he’s with you, there’s a subtle shift in him—less polished, more human, in the best way possible. It’s in the way he smiles at you like you’re the most fascinating piece of art he’s ever seen.

He’s the kind of boyfriend who’ll randomly buy you books that remind him of you. Not in an obvious, cliché way—no romance novels here. It’ll be something thoughtful, like a poetry collection or a philosophy book, because of course he’s that deep. He’ll casually say, “I thought you’d like it,” but secretly he’s hoping it’ll spark a conversation. Oh, and he’ll definitely want to hear your interpretation of eveerrrrythingg.

Minghao would have a quiet but sharp sense of humor. It’s not loud or over-the-top; it’s the kind that sneaks up on you. He’ll make a quick-witted remark with that deadpan expression, and it’ll leave you laughing long after the moment has passed. And don’t even get me started on his teasing—it’s all in good fun, but he knows exactly how to press your buttons just enough to make you roll your eyes and laugh at the same time.

Minghao is all about the art of subtle seduction. The way he leans against the doorframe, casually smirking at you; the way he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze; or how he lingers just a little too long when helping you fix your clothes—it’s all calculated. And the way he whispers, his voice low and teasing, when he’s close enough for you to feel his breath? AH MINGHAO!

He’s incredibly attentive, like SCARILY ATTENTIVE. He notices every little thing about you—your habits, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re annoyed, or how you always chew on your pen when you’re deep in thought. And he’ll use that information in the most thoughtful ways, it’s always the little things with him.

Minghao is tactile but in a very specific way. He’s not overly clingy or touchy, but when he does touch you, it’s so intentional that it leaves you reeling. A hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowded room, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, or tracing little patterns on your wrist when you’re sitting together. It’s not about quantity—it’s about the impact. And boy, does he know how to make an impact. (it makes me want to scream!)

Okay, let’s address it—Minghao probably has a bit of a possessive streak. Not in a toxic way, but he’ll give a subtle look if someone seems to be getting too close for comfort. He doesn’t need to say anything because his energy alone is enough to establish boundaries. Honestly, it’s kind of hot.

Oh, and he’s not shy about calling you out when you’re being unreasonable. Minghao has no patience for unnecessary drama, but he’ll do it in the calmest, most rational way possible, leaving you wondering why you even started the argument in the first place. But he’s also not afraid to admit when he’s wrong, and that’s where his maturity truly shines.

Minghao’s love language? Acts of service, hands down. He’s the type to take care of things without making a big fuss about it. Broken zipper? He’s got you. Need advice? He’ll give you the most insightful perspective. I think he’s secretly lived a thousand lives.

That man can absolutely DRESS. Dating Minghao means your couple outfits are always on point, whether you’re matching unintentionally or rocking complementary aesthetics. He’ll probably get you into his whole minimalist-chic vibe, and you won’t even be mad about it. Honestly, how does he make everything look good?

Minghao is lowkey a perfectionist when it comes to the things he’s passionate about, and that includes you. He’s always striving to be the best version of himself for you, but he also encourages you to do the same. He’ll push you just enough to help you see your potential. (and that’s so attractive of him.)

Minghao loves the stillness of being with you, whether it’s sitting in a park watching the clouds or lying in bed with your legs tangled together, neither of you saying much but understanding each other perfectly. That kind of intimacy? Yeah, he’s all about it.

Oh, and when he’s in the mood to be playful? Watch out. Minghao can be unexpectedly cheeky, throwing in sly comments or giving you a teasing smirk that leaves you flustered. And my guy knows exactly what he’s doing, too.

The thing about Minghao is that he’s not loud about his love. It’s not in grand declarations or over-the-top gestures. It’s in the way he quietly supports you, challenges you, and loves you in ways that make you feel seen and understood.

Honestly, Minghao being THAT boyfriend? Pls HELP—I’m not okay.

[nianeyemystic]

Traveling & Love (Pluto astrocartography observations)✈️👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏾

Traveling is in my opinion one of the best ways to meet new lovers, friends or find connections you otherwise may not come across. Here are a few of the experiences I have had when traveling and how love played a role.

Pluto on the Descendant (DS): The Power of Transformational Relationships

I traveled to San Juan, PR for my 28th birthday, the early start of my Saturn year. It came a week or so after leaving my highschool sweetheart. and was probably one of the best vacations I have ever taken for reasons I will share in this post. So this time as very transformational for me, my whole life was changing and I was feeling a sense of freedom and rebirth while in PR. I kept joking with my homegirls about how I was going to meet my Puerto Rican papi while I was there so keep that in my mind. First let me explain how this Pluto DS line played a part in the events that happened.

The Descendant in astrocartography represents partnerships, relationships, and how you connect with others on a one-to-one level. When Pluto is prominent on this line, the relationships you form in this area are intense, transformative, and potentially life-changing.

Transformational Love 💖

So while in PR I end up meeting somebody whose love has been what you guys see me describing in most of the posts. We met on the water where I was completely caught off guard in the best way. Being with him feels like a transformational love in so many ways. Meeting my love near my Pluto/DS line feels like a deep, magnetic connection that is fated or karmic. He has definitely have awakened a side of me that I hadn't accessed before. This is important bc again, I met him right after freeing myself from a toxic cycle of love I was so afraid to leave. And there he was. The connection with him challenges me to confront deeper truths about myself, my desires, and my capacity for vulnerability and intimacy.

Healing and Rebirth✨

Pluto governs transformation, endings, and new beginnings. Traveling to San Juan after ending a 15-year partnership symbolized a personal rebirth for me. This place was a catalyst for me to shed old patterns and step into a new chapter of my life.The love I found there to me is a reflection of this rebirth—a relationship that feels profound and meaningful, and one that has helped me to heal & redefine what partnership means to me.

Intensity and Depth 🧡

Relationships under the Pluto/DS influence are rarely surface-level. The way I feel like I have known him before.Like everything I manifested in a partner came directly to me in the person I needed at the right time. I was so serious when I said I was looking for my husband, and the more I spoke that the more real this became for me.its a connection that feels intense, all-consuming, or like it’s touching parts of my soul I didn’t know were there.The emotional depth and passion he brings feels like the opposite of what I experienced in my previous partnership, creating a stark contrast. a breath of fresh new air is what I look at it as.

Emotional Rebirth: San Juan, near my Pluto line, served as a backdrop for a symbolic death (the end of my past relationship) and a rebirth (my new connection). It’s as though this place holds the energy I needed to step into a new version of myself..

It gets better. I learned that he lives in Houston, Texas. another city I've traveled to where I have had some of the best times of my life. I saw Beyonce there and met some of the most genuine people. The way I felt like again,I belong here was so real. I could see myself living there and being a more vibrant person each time I went. So when he said he was fom Houston I immediately am like. hmm.

So I check to see what line Is have going through Houston.... yall. why is it my Venus & Mars IC line go directly through it. I have them conjunct natally. So let me break that down in a separate post. But just knowww, I think I was meant to meet this man. By the way for context he's a Capricorn sun, and Im a virgo sun.

Where is your Pluto line in your astrocartography chart? Have you ever traveled anywhere you felt called to go and something out of the world happened to you?

-@nianeyemystic

[arceespinkgun]

More detailed thoughts on the current arc of the Skybound comics (spoilers for up to the most current issue, #16) in which I give some more insight into why I'm still kinda ambivalent about certain parts:

Starting with the negatives to get them out of the way (they're not super serious or anything but I think they're why I'm not sure how I feel yet).

The characters who are part of the Combiners are not really characterized at all, and when they are it seems very odd. The Combaticons as big Starscream fans is really strange to see, especially when I remember their G1 debut. Mostly, the Constructicons and Combaticons feel like they're fulfilling rank-filling roles.

It's too vague right now to know what exactly happened between Starscream and Megatron in the past, but if Megatron was compelling or mind-controlling Starscream, I think that doesn't really do Starscream a lot of justice. However (and this is a big however) I believe this plotline is probably symbolic and ties into what's going on with Optimus. This series seems to be exploring the harsh realities of war and its corrupting influences, so even if I'm not sure about how one particular character is written, it may serve the greater narrative.

Arcee's crisis in #16 didn't make sense to me? She didn't jeopardize anything at all, that was only Optimus's (wrong) interpretation... and he went and killed Shockwave anyway! It just seemed odd to me to see her be comforted by Optimus when it almost feels a little hypocritical.

The thing I still find most frustrating is, unsurprisingly, how Jazz is written in this series. He barely feels like a real person with depth even now. Although nothing is like, contradicting his G1 characterization, the fact that Jazz was one of the most prominent and fleshed-out of all the transformers is making me feel like he's not being utilized very well. He always had lots of interesting things to say in the cartoon but I don't feel like that's happening here.

Now onto the positive things!

I continue to adore what DWJ's doing with Elita-1. We get to see her now as a leader of a team, a trait I've been waiting for, and I was surprised by and enjoy her friendship with Warpath! I never would've thought of something like that, but I guess it makes sense. They've been portrayed as Cybertronian resistance fighters before. Her smile while he's getting repaired was so sweet.

In a similar vein, I love seeing characters who have always been around but rarely focused on getting much more attention and care in the narrative. Bluestreak's ruthlessness was great to see focused on and maybe this series will do something more with the fact that his backstory is like Cliffjumper's in this series. I was really excited to see Trailbreaker, a character with a ton of potential, get to shine a little too! I really hope he goes on to be a major character.

Astrotrain is also a highlight for me, and I was pretty surprised to hear he wants revenge against Megatron because... Megatron killed his love interest? This is a surprising and confusing turn I never would've thought of, but I guess this is how Astrotrain would act if such a thing happened, and I'm wracking my brain trying to guess what the backstory is there. I think I'd prefer if this was about a pre-existing character and not an OC, because I found Starscream's backstory about a dead OC friend kinda weak TBH.

I'm super excited to see further fallout of Thundercracker feeling so betrayed and I was happy that this finally happened.

Megatron using Laserbeak as his eyes is really cool and I doubt DWJ would do this, but it would kind of be nice if Megatron was just blind for the whole series.

I'm really eager to see how this comic approaches the deep-seating transformer cultural issue of creating new life to be soldiers thing now that its reared its ugly head, and if Cliffjumper might have some kind of crisis later on if he feels guilt over his choices.

The art is just incredible and continues to be!

For now, I think I'm waiting to see if all this comes together like the end of the last arc worked so well.

[katerinaaqu]

Oh. My. GOSH!!!! This looks amazing there my friend! Hehe sure it wasn't the initial thought but boy oh boy did you deliver as always! I am so sad that this doesn't have more attention because it deserves it! Honestly I fear I am not good for your posts here! Hahahahaha!

For starters I love it how the arm that holds the knife comes first to this since as you say it is a critical part for his story and the way he went by with his knife and all and how in a way even if he did build his own empire or kingdom he fell by the knife as well given the circumstances. I also love how the second focus here is the eye the way that it truly reflects the pain in him and all. I really adore it how he is the main focus in this image and how the blood seems to pass from his hand and over his eye like that! It almost feels indeed like blood is passing every aspect of his life! Even his mourning moment! I also love how we have the small cameo of Andromache and Helenus who stick together with each other and I actually love that even if we do not see details on their face, I can almost see the wonder and partial pity mixed with contempt in Andromache and the way Helenus pulls her aside like "Leave him alone have his moment".

Dunno indeed whether Helenus would be more compassionate to Pyrrhus or not given that he is a Trojan too not to mention how brutally Neoptolemus killed his father on the altar but the fact that Helenus was also rejected by his people or rather he felt so when he didn't win the hand of Helen somehow makes me wonder how deep would this man's bitterness go for his own people and how far for the Greeks? Could it be perhaps that this was the reason Neoptolemus entrusted him with the rule of that portion of his kingdom even giving him Andromache as his wife? Was Helenus closer to Neoptolemus? And if yes why? He would have no real reason to like the dude unless we say that his bitterness for his father's choice went THAT deep. Perhaps in a twisted psychological thing he saw Neoptolemus as the best of two evils given how potentially Odysseus didn't like persuade him to reveal the prophecy with sweet talking and sweet wine. Probably he physically and psychologically tormented Helenus to get the information out of him. Could it be that Helenus saw in a twisted psychology that leads almost to some sort of Stockholm Syndrome saw Neoptolemus almost like his "savior" in this case? Or at least a better choice than someone like Odysseus? Gosh too much to wonder about as an aftermath of that bloody war And of course Andromache who would have absolutely no reason to like Neoptolemus. I also wonder what her relationship with her own children by him would be? Would she love them as her own or would she hate them as his? Gosh that woman surely suffered enough! But I love how SOME part of Neoptolemus seems more "righteous" here, how both Helenus and Andromache seem to be free to walk, not tied with chains and all and they seem to accompany him so maybe just maybe Neoptolemus tried to do SOMETHING right here? Maybe not.

Anyways I got overly off topic here! But yeah I really like their designs and the way you designed their clothes even if they are so briefly shown. Last but not least I am IN LOVE with adult-like Neoptolemus here and the way he wears the lion skin over his shoulder! Dude are you pretending being Heracles?! Hahahahaha! Either way I love it as well as the way he stands over that tombstone they set with the few offerings! Man the fall of Phoenix truly must have crushed him inside even if he doesn't say so! And I absolutely LOVE the simple yet powerful effect of the shadows here! How Neoptolemous seems to be covered with a shadow that starts from the grave of Phoenix! As if he has just lost another piece of his out there; another person he looked up to! Whilst Andromache and Helenus are stepping out at the light as if they now are set for rebirth while Neoptolemus is set to sink more and more in his own shadow and sadness!

Dude I absolutely LOVE this!!! And as you can imagine I just HAD to write something about this given how few pieces centered on Neoptolemus we have out there!

*

The old man was dying. There was no doubt about that anymore and they didn't need the physician to tell them that. Years of warfare and sorrows and worries in combination to the long trips of the sea could break literally any person, both physically and mentally yet alone someone as old and frail as Phoenix. The old man was constantly covered in furs despite the fact that the weather was not particularly cold; shivering in his illness and fever. The rocking of the ship seemed more like torment than actual lullaby to him and not even when he was practically stuffed with chamomile teas and milk from white poppy to ease his pain did the old man stop moaning and complaining for the cold. His reason and sharp mind seemed lost now under the mist of illness and old age. There was not much one could do but expect the worst to come. Neoptolemus was silent looking at that frail body that had lost almost all meat and flesh in their trip shivering under the furs. His face was pale almost as much as the old man's and his soul was disturbed and foaming like the waves under the oars of his ship. They were heading north. They needed as much help as they could get! The old man was always there for him. Neoptolemus was not mentally prepared for a world without him. He had spent weeks and weeks practically DEMANDING from his physician to keep the man alive at ANY cost. They had tried warm spiced wine and broths and drinks and drugs only to keep the man afloat. Neoptolemus was never more desperate in his life.

"My lord...he is tired!" his physician had employed him, "Please, any more is just a torture for the old man! Not even Asclepius himself can save him! Just let him die in dignity"

"Listen here, you old fool!" Neoptolemus had growled at the poor man grabbing him by the shirt, "I ordered you to save him! He is Phoenix! He is the man that raised my father! There is no way in all hells of Tartarus that he can die like this! You shall save him or I'll have your head for this!"

Oh, how much had he yelled! He had screamed and threatened but now even Pyrrhus, Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles was silent and almost motionless. He could do nothing else but stare at the bed that was attended by one slave and that body he admired and respected be now eaten up like a corpse being eaten by a worm. He even felt disgusted. How was it possible for such a man end up like this! THIS is what death would do to people? He never realized that the disgust was deeply rooted to his self blame. He remembered the physician. Maybe he should have heeded his words and allow the old man die with dignity a long time ago. Was it his mistake that he wanted to hold out to the last moment?

"Water..." the old man begged, "Please...w-water..."

The slave brought a small sponge to his lips and drained some water in that dry mouth. Neoptolemus could not watch anymore! He felt like drowning! He almost screamed to the slave to leave the old man alone and let him die! But his heart once more wouldn't let him to.

"Neo...ptolemus..."

The voice made him stop in his track. It was Phoenix calling and despite the weakness in his voice he seemed bright as he was before this illness stroke him. Despite the weakness in his voice he was back at his old self.

"Old man..." Neoptolemus heard himself whispering and almost ran by his side but something inside him stopped him. Instead he slowly walked there and looked down at the man that had raised him before. He was sure his face was cold like stone and yet the old man didn't seem to care. Even more disturbingly he seemed to be able to read the uproar inside his soul. That old, wrinkled hand got out of the covers and held his. Neoptolemus felt the flame under his skin more intensely.

"It's okay...son...you are strong. It will be alright"

He was literally dying and he was trying to console him?! Neoptolemus didn't know if he had to scream or cry for it.

"I know you shall be a great king....people shall remember your name...your legacy shall live...my son... Pyrrhus..."

What a weird way to say it! He almost sounded lilke a prophet and Neoptoplemus had one of them with him already! Before he had time to respond, Phoenix pushed him away. He had no time to think or protest for he heard the old man breathe out and then he remained still. It was the same stillness that took over Neoptolemus; as if a cold wave had passed through his body. It was as if he was frozen solid.

"Old man..." he whispered, "Phoenix..."

The slave that was over him shook her head negatively. The others made a moaning sound and doubled over. Neoptolemus didn't need to have the intelligence he considered himself to have to understand the move. He didn't need to have the sharp eyes to see the scratches at the cheeks of the slaves they caused themselves or see their movements of beating their breasts or hear their moans to realize what had happened.

The old man had died.

It was as if finally he had reached the realm of the passing over; his soul leaving his body. The old man had protected him from yet another miasma at the last moment by pushing him away so that he wouldn't touch the dead! If the situation was any different then Neoptolemus might have laughed. He had killed so many people and yet the old man wanted to spare him from touching a dead body?! What an idea!

"O-Oi..." he whispered, "This is not true is it? Get up, old man! Get up! You can't be...this can't be true! Get up!" There was no response. That filled him with deadly fury! How DARED the old man play with him to check if he had a heart in his chest! How DARED he to do that! He made a step forward.

"Cut this out, old man! Get up! Get up! Damn you get up! You-..." The slave that grabbed him made him realize that he must have been ready to run at the bed. He could hardly feel yet alone understand what he was doing. It was the fury the only way he knew to show grief! It was the only way he ever learnt!

"Let me go! Damn you! Damn you! Old man! Get up! Get up! You can't be...you can't leave me too!! You can't! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!"

"My lord..."

The second pair of hands appeared. His slave, Helenus, the Trojan prince and prophet of Apollo. He was holding him firmly. Neoptolemus felt his old warrior muscles beneath his robes. His eyes were almost aflame in fury but Helenus didn't stop; he had seen plenty of death himself, plenty of misery, to be afraid of his new master's potential rage.

"It's over" Helenus said firmly, "Please! Stop this! He is with the gods now...he served his purpose on this life...don't make him have regrets...."

Was it this annoying calmness inside that man's eyes that set Neoptolemus aflame or was it his grief? He didn't know but for once Newoptolemus saw only red. He then felt the sound and feeling of flesh under his hand and before he knew it he saw Helenus stepping back, holding his cheek. His lip was bleeding however the man was standing firm.

"Please" he repeated in that annoying calmness, "Let Hermes claim his soul. You can kill me if you want, you can tear my flesh apart with your bare hands but please do no further here. This place is already contaminated with death. Do not contaminate it further!"

The son of Achilles saw his hand trembling. For one second he saw blood on his fist; the hand that held the sword and the knife. He gasped and stepped back. Wiping his hand to his robe.

"We make port!" he ordered loudly, "We shall bury him at dawn!"

"As you wish..." Helenus whispered bowing his head.

The young king stormed out of the room. He did not feel talking to anyone! On his way out he saw Andromache. His other slave and concubine. She was holding a baby in her arms; the child she had with him at Troy before they departed. Molossus would be his name, Neoptolemus had decided, "tall" "fierce" and "strong". For one second his mind ran back to her face as she held her other son back then; the one he violently yanked away from her arms. She was holding that baby like her life depended on it. This baby she had now she was holding it soullessly, almost out of pure obligation. His eyes shone warningly at her gaze.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped at her before running past her to the edge of the ship. He wanted to demand salt water to cleanse himself. How strange, he thought, so much death and he felt the need to cleanse himself now!

Andromache entered the chamber and her face turned to concern, running to Helenus.

"Are you okay?" she affectionately touched his cheek Helenus winced and flinched away.

"I'm fine. It's just a minor cut!" he affectionately touched her cheek,

"You must get out of here! Do not let yourself be contaminated by death..."

Andromache laughed soullessly.

"How can I be more contaminated than what I already am?" she whispered for his ears only, pointing at the baby in her arms, "How much more can this dead man contaminate me than that monster that sleeps with me and makes me carry his offspring with my king's blood still on his hands!"

"Sh!" Helenus silenced her softly, "Don't speak like that, my queen, he is our master now! If we want to survive we need to be smart."

"I don't care...." Andromache whispered

"But I do" Helenus whispered and blushed, "I care, my queen, I don't want to see you destroyed! This..." and he pointed at his cheeks, "Is nothing. He didn't mean it. I knew he would be unpredictable in his grief. But in his rage, my queen, make no mistake, he is kind to us while we are kind to him. He has a heart for justice deep down"

"He's a monster!"

"He might be..." Helenus agreed, "But even monsters have their reasons. We are here, away from the eyes of our conquerors. He trusts us. Let's not spoil everything..."

He kissed her forehead.

"Be strong and be brave, my queen"

"I no longer am a queen!" Andromache whispered sadly

"You are to me. You always were and always will be"

****

The funeral was small and yet Neoptolemus made sure nothing was missing out of it. He brought magnificent sacrifice at least as magnificent as he could. His slaves were using sulphous to cleanse the ships while the rest of them gathered around the pyre where Phoenix would be burnt with all his possessions and his armor, as he should be. Neoptolemus was standing still most of the time as the offerings were being made. As a prophet and an ex-priest of Troy, Helenus made the funeral prayers and offerings and cut the throats of the sacrificial animals. And then came the flame that was set upon the pyre. Neoptolemus's eyes reflecting the flames, feeling the warmth on his face.

"PHOENIX!"

the cry that was aimed for the dead to find his way to the underworld was heard. Neoptolemus didn't make a sound. He hardly moved any muscle.

"PHOENIX!"

He felt like ready to explode hearing the men speaking up the name that was not meant to be spoken the same way ever again. The man that raised him was gone. He died in the trip towards their destiny. Yet another father figure, the only one he truly had, was gone.

"PHOENIX!"

He gulped. He could do nothing else. He just remained there. He hardly moved as the slaves gathered the ashes and the bones and placed them at the urn or when that urn was placed on the ground and the monument was set over it. Some additional offerings were made. Neoptolemus remained unmoving; no different than a statue or a stone. He didn't move not even when most had long retired towards the funerary celebrations and games which Neoptolemus himself had dictated. Phoenix was dead, burnt and buried; away from their home, away from their homeland and away from the land he would aim to build his legacy. He could hardly feel his surroundings. Andromache slowly was taken away for last with Helenus and he was finally left alone.

Staring at the cold stone for one more time just like with his father...

"Atta..." he heard himself whispering

It had been years since the last time he did and yet now it came so easy to his lips...along with the pair of tears that came to his cheeks

"Atta!"

He knelt by the tomb, touching the cold stone with that blood-stained hand of his...

"Why...you too...why everyone leaves me! You were supposed to be with me! You were supposed to stay with me...!"

What a childish notion! What an idiotic idea! Phoenix was old. Many men before him had kicked the bucket earlier than that and yet the idea of a world without the old man seemed surreal almost fake. Neoptolemus couldn't remember a day in his life in this world where the old man was not there!

"I will do it, old man!" he whispered to the stone, "As you said; i will make it happen for you! You will be proud of me when my name will live for all eternity! You'll see! Wait and see! I'll make you proud!"

Neoptolemus allowed himself to be Pyrrhus one last time...for this man that raised him but when he stood back he was Neoptolemus again; his eyes cold and calculating. The flame inside them that was burning was indeed what Andromache had predicted; the thirst for conquest. That was the last stop of vulnerability, Neoptolemus thought! No more weakness, no more crying! He would make it happen! No matter what the cost!

He turned around...and left.

The only thing left behind was a white flower by the grave.

And even that seemed stained with blood...

*

Hehehehe sorry sorry couldn't help myself! Sorry this is messy I wrote it on the way and no planning was included here! I just thought that it would fit! Sorry if it is sloppy!

Now the "prophetic powers" before death seems to be a common factor for homeric characters who "predict the future" before they die for example Patroclus or Hector

The "prophecy" is inspired by history because not only does Alexander the Great keep the vision of Achilles alive because he descends by the mythical Molossians by Pyrrhus but also we have an actual historical king at the area named Pyrrhus thus in a way the name and the legacy continuing

The custom of calling one's name 3 times in the funeral is also mentioned in Homer's Odyssey when Odysseus offered funeral to his men after Ismarus (Also mentioned to my Ismarus retelling to Part 3)

"Atta" as spoken by Neoptolemus is a real word in ancient Greek that appears even in Homer: ἄττα literally means "old man" but is also a way for children to address a father figure like "uncle" or "dada" so in one way I wanted for the last moment Neoptolemus call Phoenix in a way "father" or "dada" but due to the complexity of the word I thought it would be more fitting to leave it untranslated.

Neoptolemus most likely will be from now on on his way for both his top and his rock bottom.

So yeah...random inspirations. Sorry again this is not like my other fic. Is more sloppy but I hope not terrible

Challenge Time!:

We know that Neoptolemus, according to some sources, started his trip to Epirus to start his own legacy and kingdom along with Phoenix and also his newly acquired slaves; his concubine Andromache and Helenus the prophet. However old Phoenix dies along the way and Neoptolemus has to stop and offer him a burial before continuing

So the challenge goes such:

Neoptolemus genuinely crying over dead or dying Phoenix showing there is still some emotion and emotional connection under the Visage of warrior and king and our psycho that we know.

For me Neoptolemus is kind of associated with blood and the color red (surprise haha), not in a sense of active battle, combat and injury resulted from it but “blood on your hands”, unnecessary violence and innocent casualties.

Just to justify why I have to add it all the time while drawing him.

Oh yes and cameo from Helenus and Andromache.

[beaft]

the most frustrating part of this is on the surface it looks like i'm doing fine, and i should be doing fine because nothing is actually materially wrong, aside from the fact that i can't get a job and don't know where i'll be living in four months, which is, like, its own thing. the point is, i don't look like a depressed person. i'm going out to gigs and festivals and workshops, i'm volunteering with local charities, i'm applying for work, i'm hanging out with friends, i'm keeping my living space clean, i'm eating well, i'm showering regularly, i'm keeping in touch with my family. and everything just feels like such a massive effort. i eat and it's like i'm forcing cement down my throat. i go to a friend's house and walking there feels like i have lead weights tied to both ankles. i feel like i'm roleplaying being a mentally well person while getting sicker and sicker and i don't know how to fix it