#or they are deliberately thrown away etc etc

[vanishintoyou]

bro i just found my old pen case covered with gaga stickers KSKKSDJFH

[slitheringghost]

A sneak peak of my “Canon abuse in the Black family” meta

Because I can’t wait until I finish the whole meta to yell about these details, that are solid evidence that Walburga was as violent and sadistic as abusers like Vernon, Umbridge, Marge, etc. and most definitely did not love Sirius.

1.0 Sirius breaking Walburga's heart

Starting with the passages most frequently quoted as evidence that Walburga loved and grieved Sirius, which, if you read and analyze carefully, proves the opposite:

“Master always liked his little joke,” said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, “Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother’s heart —” “My mother didn’t have a heart, Kreacher,” Sirius snapped. “She kept herself alive out of pure spite.” Kreacher bowed again and said, “Whatever Master says,” then muttered furiously, “Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother’s boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was —” (OoTP) “Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress’s heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. ” (DH)

Firstly, fandom uses "he broke her heart" as evidence Walburga loved Sirius... and then completely ignores that right after Kreacher says she hated him. Secondly, "spite" is defined as "a desire to hurt, annoy, or offend someone; maliciousness" - indicating Walburga deliberately and maliciously hurting her children and others.

Third, very importantly, there is something else that is stated not to have a heart earlier in OoTP - a dementor.

An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry’s wand; its antlers caught the dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backward, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the dementor swooped away, batlike and defeated. (OoTP)

Indicating that Walburga is like a dementor to Sirius, and matching how 12GP is framed as another Azkaban for him. Likewise, Vernon is compared to a dementor in the same book, with his strangling Harry paralleling the dementor reaching for Harry's throat a short time later (The connection to Umbridge as a dementor is also implied, since she's the one who sent them after Harry):

[...] two large purple hands reached through the open window and closed tightly around his throat. “Put — it — away!” Uncle Vernon snarled into Harry’s ear. “Now! Before — anyone — sees!” “Get — off — me!” Harry gasped; for a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncle’s sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised wand. Then, as the pain in the top of Harry’s head gave a particularly nasty throb, Uncle Vernon yelped and released Harry as though he had received an electric shock [...] (OoTP) A pair of gray, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the dementor’s robes, reaching for him. [...] But there was no happiness in him... The dementor’s icy fingers were closing on his throat — the high-pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside his head — “Bow to death, Harry […] (OoTP)

Fourth, the thing about using "he broke her heart" as evidence is that… Kreacher talks like this all the damn time, and it's pretty obvious that we shouldn't take many of these statements literally, lol:

“[...] she’s no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress’s house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they’ve let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do...” “...and there’s the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she’d cry, and there’s a new boy [...]" “— comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he’s back, they say he’s a murderer too —” (OoTP)

Oh my poor mistress, she has to deal with all this filth in her house! Oh how she’d start crying if she saw a mudblood in her house! Oh my poor mistress, her filthy brood traitor son broke her heart!

Is it really “poor Walburga” for having people fighting against blood purity in her house? Would Walburga really start crying if she saw Hermione standing in Grimmauld Place? No, she just hates them and is violent to them, but Kreacher talks like all these things are ~breaking her heart~, my poor heartbroken Mistress, and poor Mistress this and poor Mistress that, constantly.

ETA: and he doesn’t even say Sirius running away is what broke her heart, it’s his rebellion before he ran away, his “lawless ways” that “broke her heart”, and so it’s a good thing he ran away.

2.0 Sirius and Harry running away

Next, we have another really significant parallel between Sirius and Harry, and Walburga and Umbridge:

“I used to be there,” said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. “My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home [...]" “You ran away from home?” “When I was about sixteen,” said Sirius. “I’d had enough.” (OoTP) “Tut, tut, I don’t seem to have made much of an impression yet,” she said, smiling. “Well, we’ll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won’t we? You may go.” Harry left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. He walked slowly up the corridor then, when he had turned the corner and was sure that she would not hear him, broke into a run. (OoTP)

Harry literally runs away in terror from Umbridge after she tortures him with the blood quill. This is a direct parallel to Sirius running away from home, and from Walburga in particular, after which Harry explicitly compares Walburga to Umbridge and to Umbridge torturing him, as I mentioned in this post ("We’ve got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She’s nearly as nice as your mum.") Just like Sirius saying "I'd had enough" is a direct parallel to Harry running away from the Dursleys in PoA:

“She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.” He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.” (PoA)

And it's actually not even the Dursleys he runs away from, it's Aunt Marge - who Harry says is much worse than the Dursleys, who also beats him, and says that he needs more beating at school and they should use "extreme force" on him (Here's a post with more Sirius and Harry parallels, and parallels regarding their abuse and trauma.)

More thorough analysis is upcoming in the full meta.

[swemtpotamtam]

Gonna post this here too because my blood is absolutely boiling

This orange fucker really thinks that launching a missile, deliberately by the way, can truly be a mistake? Really?

I understand that he is saying it because he likes sucking p*tler's dick but I'm just baffled, like, does someone really believe that a missile strike can be a fucking mistake?? You need to put in coordinates, you need to deliberately do that, and then you need to press shit to launch the missile. There's literally no mistake.

This is also not the first attack on civilians. ruzzia constantly targets innocents all the fucking time and gets away with it because people think that it's still possible to use a diplomatic approach for some stupid reason.

ruzzians have been terrorizing us for so fucking long, killed people, stole kids, r*ped women and kids, destroyed towns and cities completely, and yet somehow there's still place for diplomacy? Really?

It's honestly so disgusting and upsetting. There should be no peacetalks with a fucking terrorist state. You don't just talk with them and let them put forward deranged demands. They have time and time again demanded that the 4 regions that they wrote into their constitution (lol yeah, the constitution that they abide by clearlyyyy) because there were rigged, unlawful, illegal referendums (aka there were packs of documents thrown into the ballot bin, a staple of ruzzian freedom of voting at this point, and the few people that actually voted, if they weren't ruzzia sympathizers of course, were threatened with guns. It's all documented). Or that they are the ones to decide whether Ukraine joins any international organizations like NATO, etc. Who the fuck are you to decide that? Fix your own shit, keep your imperialistic tendencies in check or better get rid of them, and just in general mind your own business.

I am so tired of ruzzia's bullshit and so so tired of just the sheer thought that there are those that legit believe whatever propaganda bullshit it spews.

ruzzia is a terrorist state that kills and destroys. There's nothing else, it's not that deep.

[senka-mesecine]

Hey! I love your work. I was wondering if you could write about Barnes' s/o reassuring/comforting him about his face scars; that it's the thing they love most about him etc.

Here Stands a Wounded Apollo.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

---

-"Thank you."-

You whisper.

-"For showing me."-

The old, yellowing picture with jagged edges cradled in the palm of your hand makes it back to his and there's something steady, yet simultaneously playful in his stare; goading and challenging from his side of the bunk bed --- a mattress for one shared by two huddling together closely, his leg thrown over the entirety of your lower body. It was a nightly ritual. He'd leave the barracks and bunk here, doing so openly enough to where the gesture could be called cocksure audacity. The same cocksure audacity he was demonstrating now, contained in the glint of his eye. As sharp as a needle point. Sergeant Barnes was in one of his moods.

-"So, what'chu sayin'? One good lookin' sonofoabitch, ain' he?"-

He jokes at his own expense, almost like he was talking about a wholly different person and not himself. A matchmaker trying to assess if you liked what was shown to you or not. -"You still are, Bobby."- You scoot closer, endearing yourself, fingers rising to carefully brush against the left side of his face, uneven and all craters to the touch. He hums, deeply, looking away. -"Yeah."- Something disappointed in the way he says that, trailing off. An odd sort of melancholy. Perhaps more so with the rain beating against the window of the nurses' quarter outside; a huge hangar of equipment and a singular metal bed, all for you. Partially in shadow. A muted ribbon of halogen light illuminating the base seeping through the glass. -"Ain' nothin' wrong with a mug like this out here."- Barnes states, looking at you square on, moving his chin ever slightly, his scar facing you, almost as if to underline what he was meaning. All deep edges made bolder by the contrast of darkness. -"Fact is, tends to help."- There's something ominous in his stare; something slightly prideful. Like part of him tended to relish people's fear. Only for the haughtiness to fade. Replaced by a weird distance. -"Back there?"- He points his nose up, at a vague direction you understood was meant to portray home. He was talking about the prospect of rotating back to civilization like a far away, make belief idea. Bordering on abstraction. -"You walk out into the big wide world with me with all them folks starin' and lookin' and you stand by your man? No half assin' it?"- You recognize the Tammy Wynette reference in his words, but it doesn't make it any less serious; fact was, the war and the battlefield weren't like real world, you understood that. You remembered well enough. His face was now close enough for his nose to touch the tip of yours; his breath musky with a pinch of tobacco and heat. -"In the courthouse, the street, the bar, shoppin' down them aisles from the next slop to take home?"- He describes it all so vividly, his eyes reflecting your face back to you steadily.

-"Yeah, everywhere."- You blurt out, not needing to think about it.

Like some asshole on the street Stateside giving him glares or pointing at him could ever change what you felt.

-"Look, I love you, Robert."- You add, blinking up at him, his gaze right there.

An inch away.

Assessing you.

Like he was waiting to hear what you were going to say.

Giving you center stage to say it.

Daring you.

-"I find you extremely attractive, if that's what this is all about."- You confess it, squarely. Transparently. His photograph of himself from the beginning of his first tour back in the '64 still in the palm of his broad, meaty hand, pressed against his chest. Right where the pocket of his fatigues' bottom up was. -"You. Nobody else."- You assure, a deliberately tender finger coming up to trace the outline of the tremor running down his cheek, all zig-zags and dents. Like someone took a hammer to a stone and smashed it there, leaving behind a crack that ran from his jawline to the middle of his forehead, lay spread out all over his body; the damage tucked away under his uniform. Yet still undeniably handsome. Oddly Romanesque. In a different life, Barnes could've been the bust of some nameless Patrician; the marble of his visage partially smashed by the pickaxe that dug him out of centuries worth of black soil. -"A face just like that could've been chiseled out of marble. Placed in a museum somewhere."- You manage, feeling strangely poetic, caressing his cheek in the darkness. Finding he was letting you. -"With an inscription that says 'Here stands a wounded Apollo.'"- Sure, you knew it was cheesy. Corny, saccharine sweet crap. You knew that he might find your effort a load of bullshit. Instead, you find his usually perceptive, piercing eyes grow oddly mellow in the most unprecedented way that had the tendency of making him look a bit like a child contemplating whether to take the complement or not, and furthermore, how to take it and like all the years accumulated inside of him just disappeared.

-"You're fulla'shit."- Endeared, Barnes retorts with undeniable softness.

You knew this was the best way he could accept the praise.

[andorsdoll]

His, Even When I'm Not || Anakin Skywalker x Reader [Part 2]

Summary: It's a miracle neither of you have been caught. You're playing a dangerous game, one built on stolen touches, heated glances across the war room, and late-night rendezvous that always end with breathless kisses and bitten-off moans. But Anakin is getting bolder. And worse.

Word Count: 1.2k || Warnings: not rly smut(i wish) but nsfw; situationships, dysfunctional relationships, etc.,

Author's Note: An unintended sequel to my last upload. I have a few ideas for a potential next chapter but I'm likely ending it here unless anyone is actually invested, haha. thx everybody! ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

It should’ve ended there. It was supposed to end there. That kiss—soft, deliberate, almost terrifying in the way it meant something—should’ve been the line you didn’t cross again. But restraint was never either of your strong suits. And it most definitely wasn't Anakin's.

Now, it’s late. Too late. You’re on the bed in his quarters, the silence between you full of things neither of you can say out loud. You should’ve left an hour ago. You should’ve walked away the moment his hands found your face like you were something precious, before the thrown robes on the floor and entangled limbs. But you didn’t, you couldn't.

Anakin has his arm wrapped around you while your head rests on his naked chest. “This was a mistake,” you say, even though you don’t mean it.

He doesn’t look at you. “Don’t say that.”

You look up at him, “You know we can't keep doing this. I know we just decided..." your voice faltering, "But Jedi can't jus—"

“I know what I’m supposed to be,” he cuts in, not angry, just passionate. Like he always is. “But I also know what I feel. And I’m done pretending like that doesn’t matter.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. As always, you're about to open your mouth in protest but in an instant, he's on top of you, hovering over you—like he’s about to ruin you, or worship you. Maybe both. “You think I care?” he says, low and rough, voice barely more than a growl. “You think I care about rules or consequences when it comes to you?” His hand is tracing over the sides of your bare body, and you can feel the tension between your bodies like a live wire.

“Tell me to stop,” he dares you. You don’t. You can’t.

Instead, you sigh, “We’re going to burn for this.”

And he leans in, nose brushing yours, lips ghosting over your mouth, smiling. “Then let it burn.” You kiss like you’re both already doomed. It’s all tongue and breathless gasps, his hands sliding down your waist while yours tangle in his curls like they belong there. His voice is rough against your throat. “Stay tonight.”

You blink up at him, heart pounding “You know I can’t—”

“Please.” It’s one word. Barely a whisper. But it breaks something in you, the way he seems so vulnerable asking you.

So you stay.

And later, in the stillness of the night, just before sleep takes you, Anakin murmurs into your hair: "You're everything to me."

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

The next morning, you leave his quarters before the sun crests over the skyline, robes wrinkled and hair hastily pulled back. Two hours later, Anakin walks into the training hall with the faintest bruise blooming just beneath his jaw, the kind left behind by your mouth, and it feels like everyone notices. Including Obi-Wan. Especially Obi-Wan.

Your stomach twists when you see some of them speaking in hushed tones near the center of the room. You're already cursing yourself a million times over in your head for being so stupid and reckless by leaving that on him while Anakin, always terrible at hiding anything, looks half-defiant, half-unbothered. Obi-Wan looks… observant. Suspicious? Too calm. Watching you.

You turn quickly, pretending to check a control panel. Pretending not to exist. He can’t know. He can’t.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

Later, you find yourself ducking into an empty meditation chamber needing air. And then the door hisses open. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Obi-Wan’s voice is calm. Too calm. Fuck.

You turn slowly. “I’m sorry?”

He steps forward, folding his arms, gaze unreadable. “Anakin’s… distracted. Reckless. Volatile. More than usual.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “That doesn’t involve me.”

“You sure?” His tone sharpens, just enough to make your stomach drop. He’s not accusing you—not outright—but he’s circling the truth.

You meet his gaze evenly. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

He studies you, and for a second, you swear he's gonna give you the what for. But then, he lets it go.

“Be careful,” Obi-Wan says simply, before turning to leave, “With whatever it is you’re not saying.”

The door hisses shut behind him.

And then, of course, Anakin finds you again later that night.

“You weren’t at training.” you remark, glancing at him.

“Neither were you.” He smirks, the kind of crooked, cocky grin that usually melts your resistance. “Missed me?”

You cross your arms, pursing your lips, “Obi-Wan’s watching you.”

He falters.

“I know,” he says, quieter now. “I don’t care.”

“Well, I do,” you snap. “I know I'm the one who screwed this up here but I’m not going to let you get caught and dragged in front of the Council because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

His jaw ticks. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Anakin?” you demand, voice rising. “Because if this is real, if we are real, then you can’t just keep acting like the rules don’t matter.” He closes the space between you in two strides. His hands cup your face, his thumb caressing your lips. “But you’re the only thing that does matter.”

Your throat tightens. “Don't just keep saying that, Anakin! Don’t be stupid.”

His eyes search yours like he’s memorizing you, burning you into his mind. “Yeah, I’ll try.” He says. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Trying isn't enough. But Anakin’s reckless—he doesn’t care about the rules or the consequences. He never has.

The silence between you feels like it’s closing in, you’re not sure whether to pull him closer or push him away when he kisses you again this time.

This thing between you, it’s not going to survive in the shadows much longer.

[witchofawoman]

LATE NIGHTS ⋆｡°✩

5. Storm ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

featuring : jj maybank x kook!reader

summary : After last night’s tension with JJ and Rafe, you just wanted to disappear, but Rafe demanded you to come to a party, which you couldn't afford to refuse even though that's all your heart wanted as you knew how bad it would be for you...

words count : 2.5k

warnings : drug and alcohol usage, angst, violence, addiction, cheating, etc.

a/n : This is the 5th part of the serie !! Enjoy <3

That morning, you felt sick to your stomach. Sarah had gone to take a shower, but you sat on your bed, staring at Rafe’s text. The sight of it alone was enough to make you nauseous. It made you feel miserable, but you couldn’t afford to refuse his invitation. So, with a shaky hand, you texted him back a simple “ok.”

You were stressed. For once, Rafe would actually be with you at the party. He wouldn’t be off in some room with another girl. No, this time, he’d be right next to you, watching your every move. The thought of it was unbearable. And as if things couldn’t get any worse, JJ was going to be there too.

You stayed on your bed, lost in thought, until Sarah emerged from the bathroom.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” she asked. Her hair was damp, her usual outfit thrown together with practiced ease. Her lips curved into a faint smile, but her eyes gave her away it was like she was in a rush.

Before you could answer, a loud honking interrupted you. Frowning, you walked to the window and peeked out. John B’s van was parked outside, and his friends were piled in, waiting.

You shot Sarah a confused look, but she quickly held up a hand to cut you off. “I’ll explain later, but I have to go now. Please grab my stuff and bring it tonight, okay? Love you!”

Before you could even process what was happening, she was gone.

“Uh… okay,” you muttered to yourself. Your head spun. What was going on?

The day was suffocating, the hours crawling by with cruel deliberation. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, not even to grab a drink or smoke by the window. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by dread, your mind spinning in loops you couldn’t break. All you could do was lay in bed, staring blankly at the screen, movies flickering without meaning.

By the time 5 p.m. rolled around, the walls felt like they were closing in. You had no choice—you had to get up, had to move.

Dragging yourself to the mirror, you barely recognized your own reflection. Your skin was dull, your eyes sunken with exhaustion. You couldn’t care enough to pick a real outfit, so you grabbed the first thing your hand landed on: denim shorts and a white bikini top. You smeared on some makeup, shaky hands smudging the eyeliner, but you didn’t bother fixing it.

The phone buzzed violently on your nightstand, dragging you out of your spiral. You stared at the screen for a moment, your heart sinking when you saw his name. You didn’t want to answer—but you knew he wouldn’t stop. With a deep breath, you pressed the green button.

“Rafe,” you said, your voice flat.

“Where the fuck are you?” His voice was already sharp, cutting through you like glass.

“At home,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

“You were supposed to be here already.”

“You were supposed to pick me up,” you said, the exhaustion creeping into your words.

There was a pause on the line, followed by the sound of him sniffing. It made your stomach churn.

“Do you think I have time to play chauffeur, Y/N?” His voice was low now, edged with something darker. “Jesus Christ, you can’t do anything for yourself, can you?”

“Are you seriously doing this right now? You’re the one who forgot—”

“Don’t fucking start with me,” he snapped, his voice rising. “You love this, don’t you? Acting like a victim all the time. Like I’m the bad guy. Guess what, love? You are the problem. You’re pathetic.”

You blinked, your breath hitching.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you whispered, anger and hurt mixing into something volatile.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” he snarled. “Do you think anyone else would put up with your shit? Your little tantrums, your moods? Nobody cares about you, Y/N. Not Sarah, not those Pogues, and sure as hell not me if you keep acting like this.”

“Then leave!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “If I’m so goddamn unbearable, leave!”

There was another sniff on the other end of the line, followed by a humorless laugh.

“Oh, I will, love. But not before you drag your sorry ass here. And don’t you dare try anything tonight, or we’re done. You hear me? Done.”

“I—” you started, but the line went dead.

You stared at your phone, your chest heaving, the words you couldn’t say burning in your throat. 

 It coursed through you, a fiery rush that burned away everything else. Grabbing your bottle of pills, a few joints, and your car keys, you stormed out.

By the time you got to the party, the music was thumping, and the house was packed. You didn’t care. You didn’t want to see Rafe, didn’t want to see anyone. Slipping through the chaos, you headed upstairs.

It was Lucy’s house. You knew it well, knew the quiet spots but most of all knew how to disappear. The upstairs bathroom was perfect. Locking the door behind you, you dumped the pills onto the counter, crushed them into neat lines, and inhaled. The burn hit hard, sharp and immediate, but the numbness came quicker. Your heart raced, your mind blurred.

The bathroom door burst open so hard it slammed against the wall, making you flinch.

“Hey.”

The voice was familiar, but you were too dazed to place it. Blinking, you turned—and the sight of JJ standing in the doorway hit you like a bucket of ice water.

“JJ,” you breathed, your voice shaky.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His eyes were sharp

You wiped at your nose, trying to compose yourself. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Yeah, sure. Nothing looks a lot like snorting shit alone in a bathroom at a party.”

You crossed your arms, meeting his glare with defiance. “What are you even doing here, JJ?”

“Looking for beer, not a breakdown,” he shot back. “But I guess you’d call this fate, huh?”

You scoffed, leaning against the sink. “Oh, spare me the lecture.”

“I’m not lecturing you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “I’m just wondering how someone who acts so untouchable is actually this fucking reckless.”

You stiffened, the words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. “What do you care?”

“I don’t,” he snapped, but his eyes betrayed him. “I mean—fuck, Y/N. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to yourself? Or is this just another game to you?”

“Don’t act like you know me,” you said, stepping closer. “You don’t. You never did.”

“Oh, I know you,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “I know you push people away before they can hurt you. I know you can’t stand being vulnerable for even a second because you think it makes you weak. But you know what’s really weak, Y/N? This. Hiding in a bathroom, getting high like that’s gonna fix anything.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and stinging. But instead of retreating, you closed the gap between you, your faces now inches apart.

“Am I weak, JJ?” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with challenge. “Or are you just scared of me?”

His breath hitched, his eyes flicking to your lips for the briefest moment.

“Scared of you?” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “You wish.”

Your lips curved into a faint smirk, but before either of you could say anything else, the moment shattered.

“Little bitch, you are, Y/N.”

Rafe’s voice cut through the air like a whip, and JJ stepped back, his expression hardening as Rafe stormed in.

“What, Rafe? I’m the bitch here?” you said, your voice sharp, not even turning to look at him as you wiped at your nose again.

He didn’t answer, and didn't waste time. He grabbed your arm and spun you around, slamming you back against the wall. His hand gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, his face inches from yours.

“Look at me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “What the fuck were you doing with that Pogue?”

“Do you need to know every move I make?” you snapped, meeting his glare head-on.

“Yes,” he spat, his grip tightening. “Because you’re mine. Do you hear me? You’re fucking mine.”

“I’m not yours, Rafe!” you screamed, shoving at his chest. “I’m not your property, and you don’t get to control me!”

His eyes darkened, his face twisting in fury. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“Fuck you,” you shot back, your voice trembling with rage. “This is the end, Rafe. Never talk to me again. Go back to your little flings and hope they’re stupid enough to put up with your bullshit.”

“You don’t get to leave me,” he snarled, but you were already shoving past him, slamming the door behind you as you disappeared into the chaos of the party.

a/n : I know it's been a while since I haven't posted but I'm trying my best I promise, love you !!

[like and follow !!]

Taglist : @immyowndefender @imsiriuslyreal @yvesoull1 @yesshewrites1

[wordsandrobots]

My learned friend [fellow tumblr user] @billveusay has shared his initial reaction to Iron-Blooded Orphans, together with a follow-up note, graciously conceding the counter-argument on several of his criticisms in light of my inadvisedly-extensive writing on the subject.

However, he stood by two substantive points of criticism and I feel it incumbent on myself to respond to these as well. Begging the court's indulgence, I shall state my case in reverse order.

My learned friend offers that

"The classic "I push you out of the way to take the bullet myself" happens a bunch of times, and it always made me grit my teeth. If you have enough momentum to propel someone, you don't lose your inertia the instant you touch them, it takes effort to stop and stand in front of the attack. You wanted to be hit by that. And no one ever tries tackling the attacker instead of standing in front of them with arms stretched out. It's one of my personal pet peeves."

To which I can only say: yes. Yes, those people 'wanted' to be hit, in the sense of seeing it as the correct option to deal with the situation right in front of them, and yes, this happens repeatedly over the course of the show - because that's exactly the choice Mikazuki and Akihiro make at the end. To spend their lives in defence of others, even though they might theoretically have done something else, because self-sacrifice is how they conceptualise their existence. That is entirely the point.

I might further mention that I find this description of events a trifle disingenuous. Masahiro is trapped against an asteroid when he shoves Akihiro away. Ein intercepts incoming missiles (thrown weapons) to shield Gaelio. Biscuit throws Orga overboard while being chased down. Aston is operating under gravity when he shoves Takaki away and acts to restrain McGillis, a tactic Isurugi mirrors when he stops Gaelio for a brief while. Some effort is made to vary the circumstances even while the underlying choice remains consistent. We may also point to plenty of times where characters do not sacrifice themselves in defence of others, with Mikazuki very much favouring 'demolish the enemy first', Shino covering Ride when they go to help the Turbines, Derma saving Dante from the Dawn Horizon Corps, etc, etc.

And absolutely none of that matters because this is clearly a trope that annoys @billveusay personally and no possible objection can be raised against his opinion. There is cause to be annoyed when people wilfully misread a text or make up an imaginary version of a story to get angry at, but tastes will nonetheless vary. This repeated motif is, I believe, a deliberate part of the direction and underscores where things must inevitably end. Whether that works is up to the viewer to decide themselves. I can only expand upon what is present in the fiction and how I believe it is supposed to function.

*pauses for effect*

*grips lapels*

With that said...

"First off, one of my biggest critiques relates to the worldbuilding. It's great, but there's a very recurring dissonance between what we're shown and the supposed scale of events and powers in place. This is a story where the players are intercontinental, even interplanetary coalitions, all overseen by an organisation powerful enough to have supreme authority over all of humanity. And yet Tekkadan, who doesn't seem to have more than 100 members, can go toe to toe with them on a regular basis even in situations where Gjallarhorn 1) knows exactly where they are 2) Has enough time to gather as much troops as they need, like on Makanai's island or the Edmonton siege."

This is wrong.

Or, rather, it is not taking the story on the terms presented.

To somewhat quantify events, based on obsessively cataloguing the background characters shown over the course of the series, I estimate Tekkadan's Season 1 membership (extending from the CGS Third Group) to stand in the region of 130 people. This is discounting the Brewer recruits and those younger members who stay behind on Mars with Dexter, and otherwise counting every identifiable, unique character model. At a conservative estimate, Season 2 adds another 110 unique faces, although of course we've lost at least four named characters (Danji, Biscuit, Dios and Gatt) plus a significant number of extras by then - totalling fifty dead, to be exact, per the memorial. So let us say there are around 190 members in season 2, give or take.

Then, counting up the military operations we see the members of Tekkadan engage in, we have:

Defending the CGS base

Escaping Coral and McGillis' forces in order to leave Mars

Fighting the Turbines

Fighting the Brewers

Aiding the Dort workers

Escaping Carta and Gaelio's forces in Earth orbit

Fighting Carta's forces on Makanai's island

Killing Carta

The Battle of Edmonton

Fighting the Dawn Horizon Corps on Mars

Fighting the Darn Horizon Corps in space

The Arbrau/SAU War

The Battle of Chryse (Hashmal)

Rescuing the Turbines

Killing Jasley

Taking over Vingolf

Fighting the Arianrhod Fleet in Earth orbit

The last stand

I draw the court's attention (should I continue the bit? I'm quite liking imagining myself having inexplicably pulled a barrister's wig from my pocket ala the 4th Doctor in Stones of Blood - )

I draw the court's attention to the fact that the vast majority of the Season 1 engagements are not pitched battles. Excepting the opening and closing conflicts, Tekkadan are most often either skirmishing with groups of a similar size or punching through a thin defensive line in order to reach a particular destination. The exception to this - facing the Arianrhod Fleet in the Dort colonies - is explicitly called out as a hopeless situation, with Shino actively suggesting retreat, his previous attitude of wanting to tangle with Earth-sphere troops discarded.

Furthermore, when Tekkadan do meaningfully start attacking Gjallarhorn's main force (as opposed to the much less well-drilled Mars Branch), it is with explicit aid from a Gjallarhorn insider and against an inexperienced commanding officer. Carta Issue simply isn't ready to combat a hyper-pragmatic gang of child soldiers. The strong implication is that nobody on Earth expected this kind of attack and they are fatally overconfident in their ability to track and neutralise the threat. This, together with Tekkadan's pushing to extremes, leaves the defenders on the back-foot throughout.

To then proceed, as my learned friend does, to the Battle of Edmonton - "I vaguely seem to recall Gjallarhorn not being able to intervene for political reasons, but if the capital city of an intercontinental super nation can be locked into a week-long siege by twenty mobile workers, all focusing their attack on a single bridge, it does makes me raise questions" - I fear I must directly contradict his version of events. It is not that Tekkadan lock the city into a siege, but rather that the Gjallarhorn troops act to prevent their entry and Orga commits forces to repeatedly challenging their cordon, as a ruse to distract from preparations for breaking through elsewhere.

This is a very costly gamble. Multiple Tekkadan members are killed or wounded over the course of the three to four days it takes to lower the river sufficiently. Yet at the same time, the show goes out of its way to emphasise the circumstances that permit success.

It is established during the island arc that Gjallarhorn must negotiate with Earth's economic blocs in order to operate on their sovereign soil. Likewise, we are told that they are forbidden from interfering with the internal affairs of each nation, a restriction Iznario Fareed works to subvert by installing a puppet leader in Arbrau. On the ground, we find Gjallarhorn soldiers discussing their relative superiority over Tekkadan, but their orders are to hold position.

From Iznario's side, this makes a great deal of sense. All he has to do is keep Tekkadan at bay until the election concludes in his favour. Acting prior to this - by, say, moving mobile suits dangerously close to Edmonton - would be wasteful and visibly illegal.

Thanks to McGillis' support, Tekkadan are resupplied sufficiently for the task at hand and reach Arbrau's territory. They correctly gauge that a head-on attack at full strength would not succeed without undermining their efforts to bring Kudelia to negotiate on behalf of Chryse (this, remember, is the actual goal). They therefore make a show of playing by the rules and 'going mad', throwing their mobile workers at the same point over and over to lull their opponents into letting their guard down.

This is not, then, a situation where a mere hundred-odd children face the full might of an 'intercontinental super nation'. It is instead a carefully constructed, carefully constrained incursion created via the intersection of multiple different agendas. The precise logistical and luck-based elements here are vitally important, given later events.

If it may please the court, I shall now make a small segue to another item raised over the course of my learned friend's initial reaction, namely the matter of military technology.

"On a similar note, it's also weird that we only see mobile workers, mobile suits and spaceships used in battles. I mean... if they have spaceships, what happened to fighter jets? Bombers? Long range artillery? That one would have definitely been useful during the Edmonton siege, where they mainly faced mobile workers. Maybe they've been banned like the Dainslef, but even that made me raise question. It's just a big nail gun with explosives, it's efficient but doesn't seem toxic, radioactive or prone to collateral damage, so why would Gjallarhorn ban it for everyone if they can just make it illegal for anyone other than themselves to use them. I may have missed something."

To the last point, regarding the ban on Dáinsleif mass drivers, I can only suppose that the state of the Earth's moon in the post-disaster setting did not register on a first viewing.

In this, I will be generous and acknowledge the show does not draw explicit attention to the level of destruction resulting from past Dáinsleif use, although ancillary material very much does. One does raise one's eyebrow at the suggestion they are not "prone to collateral damage" given the devastation seen when they are deployed against a target on Mars, but that is by the by.

My next major quibble is focused on the question of warplanes. We do in fact have an explanation for why these are not deployed at Edmonton, provided by the pretext under which the Arbrau/SAU war starts in Season 2: the crash of an SAU reconnaissance jet owing to interference from an unshielded mobile suit reactor.

It is clear that, in the Post Disaster timeline, Ahab reactors pose a danger to the complex avionics of modern aircraft, in addition to being disruptive to civilian infrastructure. Why the jets could not be shielded in the manner of mobile suits themselves is not a question the show expends time on; it could be a matter of weight or relative complexity or any number of 'technobabble' explanations. What matters is that aircraft are written out as a viable means of combat where mobile suits are involved.

Gundam as a franchise has long indulged in made-up physics to explain how battles in space might operate under the fog of war. The concept of 'Minovsky particles' find their most recent expression in IBO's Ahab waves, which disrupt electronics, radio signals and related technologies such as radar. Tekkadan have to rely on simple, rip-cord-launched drones to facilitate laser communication on the battlefield, as well as keeping mobile command posts close to the action to maintain tactical oversight. To respond to another of my learned friend's notes, that is why Orga gets so close to Carta's forces: it is the only means for him to check in on what is happening mid-battle.

This is, of course, contrived. But so is the 'medieval' melee combat that gives IBO its particular flavour of action, the very notion of a power source capable of sustaining a giant mecha, and indeed a giant mecha itself. The show provides a framework for the events the writers wish to have transpire and we must, in good faith, follow as far as they lead.

Take the Dort arc. Certainly we may concede that the workers' demonstration in front of the Dort Company headquarters pales next to the scale of a typical French protest. However, the context elided by that jocular comparison is two-fold. Number one, this is a subset of the workers' movement, a moderate faction trying to prevent a more radical, violent uprising. And number two, it is taking place aboard Dort 3, the colony we are told is given over to housing for Company executives and factory owners. We see from other characters' explorations that it is an oddly empty place, dominated by shopping centres. How much local support, therefore, could we reasonably expect to find there for protests originating amongst the factory workers aboard Dort 2 and the other colonies? Does my learned friend mean to imply that shipping hundreds of people across a gulf of space to stage this demonstration would be a trivial task?

No, what we see here is another targetted incursion, reliant in part on Savarin Canele's supposed access to the upper echelons of Company management. Sadly, here, the strategy is a bust and Gjallarhorn only allows things to proceed as far as they do in order to trap the wider movement. And it is this wider movement we see spurred to action, as many more people on the other colonies do indeed attempt to cross the void en mass and avenge Mr Navona's ill-fated negotiations.

Lest my learned friend suspect I missed his point about how the space battles appear more populated than those on the ground and his consequent inference of a technical limitation, I draw the court's attention to other depictions of protest in the show. These shots show large crowds and though they only appear briefly, they make evident a deliberate decision to foreground the relative smallness of the Dort union's foray. Perhaps to foreshadow that this is being permitted to occur rather than succeeding by force over the objections of their employers...?

The murder of this relatively tiny faction is portrayed as the spark igniting a wider uprising. There is indeed no uprising in progress until after Gjallarhorn commits premeditated slaughter. The workers are then met with the full force of the Arianrhod Fleet, which dwarfs their stolen, sabotaged militia, but the principle of some small incident resulting in wide-scale consequences is well-established within the series. At the start of Season 2, for example, we are told Tekkadan's push to get Kudelia to Edmonton has resulted in a global renaissance in mobile suit usage.

And here I fear I must once again take serious issue with my learned friend's interpretation of the setting he has most diligently spent 50 episodes watching. Because we are told - explicitly, outright and definitively told - that the Earth economic blocs do not possess active mobile suit forces until the Battle of Edmonton prompts them to reconsider their military readiness.

In any Gundam series, the mobile suit is the basic unit of military strength. This is the central conceit, a humanoid war machine superseding tanks and fighter planes as the single most effective means of combat. Clearly Iron-Blooded Orphans follows this pattern yet unlike its many predecessors, it does not present us with a setting in the throes of global war. This is ostensibly peacetime and moreover the aftermath of a conflict beyond comprehension. The mobile suits are a product of that Calamity and they per force outclass any other piece of hardware present.

But they are far from ubiquitous.

We see them in the outer-spheres, in the hands of pirates, smugglers and mafiosos. We see how effective they are as a means of space-based combat. We see too how they are used to sweep aside conventional armaments found in colonial holdings: Gjallarhorn's deployment of mobile suits is a death sentence for the CGS, until Gundam Barbatos is awakened.

Yet what are we to make of the Earth-sphere, guarded both by Gjallarhorn's elite and by 'just for show' fleets that have extensive resources and no practical experience? Simply that Earth itself was in large part rid of the machines that saved it from the mobile armours, and that an iron wall of well-trained, well-supplied Gjallarhorn forces has since surrounded it, deterring the wild usage of old super-weapons we find further out.

This, it appears, has bred complacency among the economic blocs and a strong reliance on Gjallarhorn, and it is the shock of seeing first-hand the 'effectiveness' of mobile suits that drives those nations to reactivate long-dormant stocks for their own defence. My learned friend dismisses the Abrau/SAU War as a conflict over meadows and shrubberies; I stand by the interpretation that what we witness is the tentative, ill-educated thrusts and parries of two nascent militaries relearning how to fight - all the while being manipulated by parties who see Tekkadan's hit-and-run tactics as a means of dragging out a minor border dispute for years to come.

These tactics are noted as making no sense on the ground! We know the immediate causes of the war are not organic but staged via Galan Mossa's covert activities. An endless series of quick, indecisive battles is arranged as a trap for McGillis and it succeeds, right up to the point the main body of Tekkadan arrives to rescue their hapless Earthen counterparts.

Why should we expect any sort of high-level strategic competence to be on display in the meantime? Why should we expect a grand-scale clash of nations when the show signals something else entirely?

The flip-side of this, if I may be permitted the colloquialism, is that mobile suit pilots from the outer-spheres often prove ferociously effective compared to their Earth-bound counterparts. I refer not only to Tekkadan but to the Turbines as well. The fight between Amida and Julieta alone demonstrates how a life spent doing battle with pirates and other lawless factions can surpass even the most naturally-talented and intensively-trained Earth-sphere recruit. The drive to fight for survival and what little has been scraped together in relatively impoverished circumstances is powerful, especially compared to soldiers who view their work in less desperate terms. Several times we encounter members of Gjallarhorn's lower ranks expressing workaday attitudes or acting out of concern for their own self-preservation, as is only reasonable for those operating in a largely peaceful sphere.

How many of them have ever been anything less than the most powerful player in any given situation? The Regulatory Bureau's intelligence network sabotages rebellions against the economic status quo and those uprisings that do flare to life are enacted using mobile suits retrofitted for construction work or local security, with weapons otherwise meant for mundane maintenance. Dangerous, certainly. How could a mobile suit be anything less? But Gjallarhorn's level of organisation and brute scale surely insulates most of its members from fights that are not tipped hugely in their favour. We see exactly this at the Dort colonies and Orlis Stenja's attitude at the very start of the show extends the warped perspective of a tilted deck even to the less-secure outer-sphere branches.

Yet coincidence presents Gjallarhorn with an unprecedented challenge. The Alaya-Vijnana permits easy, even instinctual mobile suit operation and the Gundam frames are considerably more potent than the average Graze. Without specific training or prior experience, Mikazuki is able to turn the tide against three-to-one odds, then best a veteran pilot in single combat. He and Akihiro go on to exercise their innate and in-built advantages over and over again. My learned friend expresses incredulity that a bare handful of combatants could match Gjallarhorn's numeric superiority. I contest that the show tells us, repeatedly, that via appropriate motivation, augmentation, and a thorough disregard for the consequences, they can do exactly this.

All the factors I have so far brought to your attention coalesce in the final act of the story. I shall not dwell on Rustal Elion's principle victory over McGillis' coup d’etat within Gjallarhorn. We are, I trust, by now familiar with how Tekkadan's luck runs out. How they are overwhelmed by numbers beyond even their capacity to subdue and by supposedly outlawed weapons of mass destruction. Let us turn instead, as my learned friend does, to Tekkadan's last stand, where ground forces surround their base.

"It's present all the way through the final battle. The Arianrhod troops wait a few days so it looks like they gave Tekkadan the chance to surrender, fine. But once the hostilities begin, it shouldn't take all of these mobile suits so long to destroy their base. They're surrounded in an open field, they only have five mobile suits to defend them, and they're good, but I have trouble believing that they can hold off all of the enemy suits at the same time. Not a single one is able to go around one of them and destroy the base?"

Once again, he is - through no fault of his own, I am sure - presenting events in a misleading light. The Arianrhod and Mars Branch Grazes are not there to give Tekkadan a chance to surrender but to contain them and subsequently goad them into lashing out, so Lord Elion may claim just provocation for ultimate force. This is - once again - something we are told in no uncertain terms.

Similarly, the purpose of the battle rapidly becomes evident in how the Grazes are deployed: they are sent after Tekkadan's mobile suits, which have proved so ferocious over the course of the preceding 49 episodes. Specially equipped units close in on them with shields and spears, attempting (in some cases effectively) to neutralise them, specifically.

Then the trap is sprung.

*slams hand down on the desk*

With most of Tekkadan's remaining forces beaten into retreat and their two biggest guns firmly exposed, a Dáinsleif barrage from orbit finishes matters in a single decisive blow. Thereafter, with the pilots of Barbatos and Gusion as the only evident survivors, Gjallarhorn's ground forces re-engage, their mopping-up exercise turning into a massacre when the Gundams power on to the very last drop of blood, yet succeeding in its main objective.

Far from being a case of missed opportunities to end things sooner, this is a calculated response to the unnaturally formidable assets of a defeated enemy who must nevertheless be publicly seen to die as the aggressor. Equal parts PR theatre and inexorable execution.

I must own at this juncture to a certain coyness thus far when it comes to my learned friend's central point of contention with the text of Iron-Blooded Orphans, the matter of scale. Much of what I have said may be considered by-the-by in terms of the accusation that the story is stating a larger scale than it is showing. It is my hope that I have sufficiently demonstrated the series' attention to explaining why the conflicts it depicts unfold on the terms they do, with the placement of appropriate constraints. However, I shall conclude by tackling head-on the impression my learned friend apparently formed of the protagonists' place in the setting.

I ask the court to consider the statement "Tekkadan has allegedly grown much bigger and is now a major global player". Who, actually, makes this claim? Certainly it is not those against whom our protagonists range their comparatively meagre influence. Elion's attitude is entirely dismissive, his focus squarely on McGillis as the opponent to be bested. Is it the government of Arbrau, who retain the services of Tekkadan's Earth Branch as military advisors? Perhaps, to an extent, yet we see on the ground that Tekkadan is belittled and dismissed by recruits who resent receiving a military education from young teenagers. Is it Teiwaz's leader, who makes Tekkadan a subsidiary to his Jupiter-based conglomerate? Certainly he sees great potential in them and gains by association with them, as administrator of Chryse's half-metal mines. Yet those around him view them only as upstarts, unworthy of a place at the table.

Is it McGillis Fareed, who sees in Tekkadan the means of reshaping the future? Well. We have seen, have we not, how far McGillis' assessments of reality can be trusted.

No. Tekkadan's reputation might have expanded and their actions, inspired imitation, but in their own right, they remain small-fry, quickly crushed between the gears of larger powers. They are big on Mars and make strides to being big in the Jupiter-sphere. But these are backwaters. In the places that matter, 'Tekkadan' is nothing more than an unexpected irritant. Their aspirations to be sovereigns of Mars are handed to them by a man who holds a fantastical view of the world. Hard reality has vastly different ideas about what they are capable of.

Iron-Blooded Orphans is a tale told through narrow perspectives and the places where those perspectives cannot widen fast enough to save characters from their mistakes. Most of the action we follow is 'small' in the sense of being limited. One ship in Teiwaz's transport fleet. One group of pirates. An engagement with a single squad of Gjallarhorn troops, rashly deployed out of wounded pride. A narrow, targetted, diversionary attack on a single approach to a city.

In all cases, these are mere slivers of a wider picture, of a wider system, and it is the weight of that system pressing in that forecloses on a happy ending. Yes, Naze' harem is the only part of the Turbines organisation we see regularly. This is because he engages with Orga in a personal capacity, spurred by affection and a desire to help. Yet it remains the case that the Turbines are a big enough deal inside Teiwaz to have garnered pre-existing enmity from other factions who grow to fear Naze will acquire outsized influence via Tekkadan. Yes, Gjallarhorn is a massive organisation, easily dominant in any military confrontation where its size is fully brought to bear. Yet we very rarely see it operating in that way, our attention held instead by smaller factions and local deployments. It is when those caveats are removed that those we follow must beware. And yes, Kudelia is part of a broader push for Martian independence. Yet she is precisely that: one part, no matter how much certain elements try to make her their figurehead. She cannot make everything better on her own and struggles with the monumental scale of her undertaking.

My learned friend is an astute observer of Gundam anime. He has his tastes and his insights and I am grateful to him for sharing them with us. Yet in this case, I must sadly conclude that he has brought mistaken assumptions to bear. He has seen that Tekkadan are involved in events with far-reaching outcomes and assigned them the role of a global player - indeed, much as McGillis does. But Tekkadan are never that. They are a group of suicidally reckless orphans with nowhere else to go, who fight tenaciously for what they have and for the promise of more tomorrow, who achieve truly impressive victories, hitting well above their weight-class against complacent foes who routinely underestimate them. But those victories are the outcome of numerous variables and cannot be replicated with certainty. When the chances run out, when the gloves come off, when there is no friendly politician or masked benefactor to offer them material aid...

They lose.

Because they are a small part in big events, and not even in the sense of a being single unit within a larger push towards a greater goal. They are ultimately alone in their aims. Abandoned. Forsaken. And their implacability, their undoubted strength, is outmatched by those who do genuinely move at scale.

This is not inconsistency.

It is a thesis statement.

Thank you. The defence rests.

-----

Well that was fun. And I hope the performance takes the barbs out of arguing against someone on the internet.

@billveusay, dropping the act, the thing I am dancing around is that your criticism in regards to scale struck me as a bad-faith reading. I don't mean that as an accusation against your intentions; however I do sincerely think the show explains a lot of what you picked out and that it's likely you either missed or misread that.

Most of the conflict in IBO is *extremely small scale* for a mecha anime, especially one in the Gundam stable. My go-to line about this is 'IBO is not a story about how war is hell; it's a story about how the peace is as well.' The stakes are not the fate of the world, but of bits inside it. Gjallarhorn is performing police action and state-sanctioned violence left, right and centre but only the Arbrau/SAU War and the coup really 'count' as large-scale warfare and even then, they're both in-universe damn squibs because of the factors at play.

That's weird for the genre and for Gundam, which - as your comparison to 00 highlights - usually entangles our heroes directly in global-scale action. Making them a historical footnote isn't how this stuff usually works! But that's what the show is doing and reading against that is technical bad faith. The objections you raise are imagining tactics for achieving goals that differ somewhat from those Tekkadan's opponents are stated as pursuing, and make claims that certain things could not happen when the show says they very much can.

I'm sympathetic to being disappointed the scale of the Tubrines isn't shown much on screen, but even there, it is present in the sense of getting to see how big their fleet is and, ultimately, the rest of the organisation doesn't actually matter to the story. Naze is their weak link and more importantly, the person whose actions actually matter to Tekkadan's rise and fall. So that's where the attention stays, even though it would have been great if we could have seen him interact with crews who aren't his wives (thank heavens for Urdr Hunt giving us that!). There is ultimately only so much you can fit into even 50 episodes.

And I can't - won't - argue against your opinion of how well something does or doesn't work. If you didn't find it convincing that the Alaya-Vijnana, the Gundam frame's power, Tekkadan's greater drive, Gjallarhorn being infested with arrogant numpties, and so on combine to allow five mobile suits to hold off a greater force, then that's just what it is. All I'm really saying is that I don't think you've credited the show with doing the legwork it does, in the way it does, for the end it was working towards.

And that, sadly, activates my annoying pedant mode, here played by Horace Rumpole.

[cosmicjoke]

So I haven’t read chapter 52 of “Saezuru” yet, but I did read the summary of it on twitter, and after having a conversation with one of my mutuals, I have a few thoughts about what it is Yashiro wants, and why he’s having so much trouble communicating it to Doumeki. 

First of all, Doumeki himself still seems very hesitant to treat Yashiro with the gentility that they both want him to give, and obviously this stems from what happened the last time he did, with Yashiro pushing him away.  You would think, okay, well, this has an easy solution.  Doumeki wants to treat Yashiro with kindness, and Yashiro genuinely wants to be treated kindly, so all he has to do is tell Doumeki that, and problem solved.

But of course it’s not that simple, and after talking about it with others, and reading about how, during their sex scene, Yashiro was thinking about the Madam at the club, and how Doumeki treats her so gently, it got me thinking more about Yashiro’s difficult relationship with the idea of being treated as a woman. 

Yashiro wants to be treated with the same care and tenderness that he perceives Doumeki to be treating the Madam with, and the belief that Doumeki is deliberately treating him differently than that, because he’s a man, and because he is who he is specifically, (someone who’s always been treated with cruelty and told, indeed, that he deserves to be treated cruelly), is clearly very painful for Yashiro. 

The thing we have to remember about Yashiro is that, during the years he was being sexually abused by his step-father, he was being told by his abuser that he was really a woman, that his being born male was a mistake, etc...  And we see how this later affects Yashiro.  Afterward, whenever he was treated like a woman, or how he perceived a woman should and would be treated, anyway, he got spooked and made an effort to get away from that treatment.  Like Hirata’s underling whom Yashiro got thrown out of the Yakuza after he started treating Yashiro like his girlfriend, or Yashiro’s dissmisiveness when Ryuuzaki asked him about whether he ever wished he’d been born as a woman, etc...  I think Yashiro associated being treated kindly and tenderly with the memories of his abuse, and therefor, that kind of treatment was very traumatic to him.  It’s why we see Yashiro, during his and Doumeki’s sex scene from chapter 26 (I think, lol), crying and seeing an image of himself being raped by his step-father.  It’s why he freaked out so badly afterward and ran away.  Yashiro realized that he LIKED being treated gently, but it reminded him of what his step-father said to him about him really being a woman.  I think, in that moment, when Yashiro realized he wanted and liked being treated kindly, it was like a confirmation for him of everything his step-father claimed about him, that he was really a woman, that him being born male was a mistake, etc...  In that way, it was like a confirmation of every negative, cruel, vicious thing his step-father ever said and did to him.  An affirmation of Yashiro’s own, negative view of himself. 

I think Yashiro’s experience in middle school with the girl he has sex with sort of reinforced Yashiro’s views about women too, and how they’re supposed to be treated, versus how he thinks men are supposed to be treated.  When he tried getting rough with that girl, she started crying, and Yashiro immediately stopped and lost interest in her.  He realized she didn’t want to be roughhoused.  Subsequently, I always point to this incident as proof that Yashiro isn’t, and never was, a sadist.  A true sadist would be turned on by another person’s pain and fear, but Yashiro had the opposite response.  He was turned off by it. 

Yashiro realizes, after his first, sexual experience with Doumeki, that he, like that girl, doesn’t actually enjoy being hurt during sex, doesn’t enjoy being roughhoused and mistreated.  That of course was a coping mechanism he clung to to deal with his trauma, convincing himself that he wanted to be mistreated and hurt to defend against the reality that he’d been horribly vicitmized.  He realized, in that moment with Doumeki, then, that he was more like a woman than a man (just like his step-father claimed), and so for Yashiro, admitting that he wants to be treated with tenderness is tantamount to his admitting that his step-father was right about him.  This is why, I think, he’s still having such a hard time admitting to Doumeki what he really wants.  I know certain people in this fandom are impatient with Yashiro and demanding that he just confess his feelings already, but they forget just how traumatized Yashiro really is, and what it is he’s dealing with. 

It’s obviously going to take a bit more, or a lot more time before either Yashiro or Doumeki can fully open up to one another, and for Yashiro specifically, it’s going to be a lifelong process, being able to accept himself and what he wants without also feeling ashamed or guilty or wrong. 

[egg-emperor]

If/when Eggy finally scraps orbot and cubot for good, do you think he'd show them the superior bots that he's replacing them with (and bragging about the superior bots superiority while calling robot and cubot Useless), just before he scraps them, just to twist the knife?😈

He was clearly already very into threatening them with the idea of replacing them to immediately knock them back into submission and obedience all along lol

And now that Sage is a thing, I can imagine it's getting worse for them already as he practically already unintentionally replaced them as when she exceeded all expectations, he quickly expressed enthusiasm to assign her to many major tasks they would've previously managed

So they're almost out of a job already aside from like the awkward things like being called to the bathroom/bedroom to assist him or give his special massages etc where they have to see him nude lol with Sage in the picture

She's appealing to many of Eggman's needs and much more enthusiastically and earnestly than they ever did, so she's much more reliable to him and praised by him of course. Plus there's the greater appeal for all the pride he can take in her for being an impressive creation that he truly feels is reflective of his genius just like he longed for in the prequel comic

He could never say the same for poor Orbot and Cubot, who he feels put a stain on his image more often than not for how often they set off his short temper, disappoint him, and need much more forcing and threatening into doing a lot of things. Their typical antics are specifically what made him wish for something to be proud of above

Sage, seeing them as family, may hope that Eggman changes his mind on how he feels about them but he knows she'll still remain loyal to her beloved father, even after any disappointment if he did it. Not that it's not a concern to him in the first place anyway because he always does what he wants and that won't change for anyone at all XD

So he may already be very close to replacing them without even needing to make more robots first, the more he finds Sage and Metal cover most areas for him! Aside from those early things he still makes them do. I can imagine even if he's already immediately constantly putting them down in comparison to Sage every time he praises his golden child

He could make their replacements quickly because both quality and quantity matters and he needs some for those more awkward intimate tasks and he'd be sure to brag about how much better they are at serving him too, but especially Metal and Sage as his very best. Really rub it in to make them feel like inferior useless disgraces in comparison

Or maybe without even making their direct replacements yet, he'd tease by telling them he'll use their parts to make better and superior robots that replace the very last of their little purpose and use to him left, will reflect his genius, and treat him the way he should be. "I'll replace you with creations I can actually be proud of, like Metal and Sage!"

And he'd also cruelly emphasize that he's definitely not going to use their data banks/minds if he repurposes them to make these new robots he boasts of creating because they're only good for their parts. He wants to make it hurt, make them feel like the trash they'll become when they're torn apart and thrown away, unable to feel anything at all

Oh this cruel bastard. Him being proud and happy with his newest shiny toy makes him either totally ignore and abandon, deliberately treat his older obsolete creations like shit to make them feel inferior in comparison, and/or even scrap them entirely. You may be happy for Sage's promotions but poor Orbot and Cubot have to suffer for it!

[harocat]

'Xiang Liu deserves Xiayao'

'I would have picked Xiang Liu'

Put aside shipping for a moment and actually look at the interaction between them that Xiayao sees. All his noble sacrifices, except when he saves her after the fire? She's not privy to.

And they're wonderful, and his story is beautiful, but how do any of them show that he would be a good match to her in a long term relationship? And certainly how could Xiaoyao have chosen XL based on them when she didn't even know about them? It's also not grand gestures that draw her; it's loyalty and companionship. Xiang Liu could not provide that. He can show her every beautiful thing in the world, but he can't and won't give her what she actually desires.

The idea that someone 'deserves' someone in fiction is kind of a strange take as is. I don't think it makes for good writing to treat a romantic partner as if they're a prize. In the immortal words of Princess Jasmine, Xiaoyao is not a prize to be won.

Saying he deserves her, or she should have picked him also misses the fundamental tragedy of Xiang Liu and frankly the meaty, fascinating parts of his character. Neither is true, because there is not a manner, in this universe, where he would have ever been a choice. He would not have allowed it. He spent good times with her as FFB, and yeah, he could not resist flirting, but genuine romance was never on the table for him because of HIS decision.

And consider their direct interaction. He is frequently rude to her, frequently cruel to her. This is deliberate on his part later on; he is trying to push her away (early on it's just him being like that though). But whether deliberate or not, why would someone who does that be her 'deserved' partner, the one she should choose?

She says he's not fit to be in any girl’s dream not because he's a demon, but because he has broken her ankle, whipped her, thrown her hundreds of feet off his bird into the water, sucked her blood in a manner that is shown to be very painful several times, etc. The early cruelty for cruelty's sake, instead of to push her away, was during her Wen Xiaoliu days as well, so the idea that he specifically deserves WXL is... hmmm...

And this isn't me arguing that XL and XY are problematic or something. It's clear that the message we are meant to take from his story isn't 'he's too evil to be her boyfriend', but 'he made the choices he did to pursue his life's mission, and because of that, he pushed her away.' Cruel to be kind.

But to say he deserved her, to say that YOU would have chosen Xiang Liu so you don't get why she didn't? It just... it really misses the point of their story. In his tragedy, he was never a choice at all.

[doberbutts]

I have to tell you I adore you and all your fabulous fur babies!

I would like to ask if you can talk about your experience being on t, specifically the mental and emotional aspects of the hrt process. I have read a lot about the physical changes that happen, but I don't see anyone talking about how your personality, mood, energy, etc. change.

Thanks!

Hey thanks!

Honestly while there is a lot of misinformation regarding what testosterone does to your emotions, I feel lucky that my endocrinologist never really said anything except that I may feel wild mood swings or have trouble controlling my anger in the first few months as my body and mind adjusted to the new swing in hormones.

This is pretty normal for any hormone you take- when you first start, you may find yourself experiencing mood swings and feeling emotions more intensely. That's why kids deep into puberty tend to be, um, a bit out of control with their emotions. It's also why this happens again as you age into your twilight years, when your body once again changes its hormone output and can set things a bit out of whack. Or if you get pregnant. Or if you start hormonal birth control. Or if you take a steroid for something not even sex hormone related. Messing with your hormones can seriously throw off your grasp on your feelings and moods.

But the good news is, it's not permenant. By the time you're 5 months in, you should start feeling more like "you" again, unless your dose changes for whatever reason. And, even better, the "you" you feel like? Usually is a much more mentally happy person.

On a personal level, I didn't have random fits of anger. Which is interesting, because I have a documented anger problem that I have taken anger management for because I have had black-out rages [usually inspired by one of my sisters deliberately hurting one of my pets] [for instance she swung one of my pet rats at the wall by the tail like she was going to kill him and the next thing I know our mother is pulling me off of her as I'm pummelling her face with my fists on the ground and I do not remember the in-between] [I'm not sorry, fuck around and find out, don't hurt my animals and I won't hurt you] [also this sister sent me to the ER in a previous fight where she'd bodily picked me up and thrown me through a window so like. Don't feel too bad for her that I finally snapped and gave her a taste of what she constantly did to me]

In fact, I've had *multiple* people who know the "before" and "after" tell me that I'm much calmer and more emotionally steady than I've ever been. And that I'm happier too. I also used to anger-cry a *lot*, pretty much any time I got angry I'd also cry, but that also stopped happening so now I don't really get angry and when I do I don't cry about it.

I would say anxiety's probably about the same but depression is much better. Compared to who I was before leaving my hometown vs now, I can confidently say that I no longer consider the odds of whether my shower curtain rod can hold me for long enough. I'm much better at recognizing when my mental health is getting bad and when I need to take a step back. I get stressed and I can go "okay, I need to break away from this before I completely lose it" well in advance. Which is great! Mental stability and joy and security for the win!

I will say I don't really cry anymore. It does occasionally feel like I'm not really able to. One of Creed's songs came on and I teared up and my throat got all fuzzy but I think only one of two tears actually came out, vs losing him pre-T we're talking ugly cry scream-sobbing in my [now-ex]'s arms. Which, yes, some of it is just distance from the grief since it was two years ago. But also I've never been so in control that I only cried a literal couple tears' worth. Usually the waterworks start and then take a long time to end.

[tickle-bugs]

hi so. uhm. I know requests are closed but I have bad memory problems and know I probably won't remember this if I don't send it in now so I'm just leaving this here for you to find later. again, apologies. blame my stupid brain jaja. anyway yeah uh sorry this is so long now its awkward uh I just wanted some kylo ren headcanons please? he's my favorite and there's literally 0 tickle content of him anywhere so I'd really appreciate it. <3

hey there! i accept headcanon requests pretty much always (so long as they're in one of my current fandoms), but prompt requests for fics are closed. so you're good! im also team memory problems. it's part of why i'm away from here so often. so i empathize <3

let's assume this is a zuko-esque au where they rehab Ben like a particularly troublesome shelter cat and he's able to regain the trust of everyone else. Like Finn's arc but more hardcore considering *gestures to Kylo's backstory lol*. HCs under the cut!

okay first off...he has a really nice smile. when he smiles with his teeth, his eyes crinkle at the corners. his whole face warms and he kinda ducks his head. naturally this means he would rather be executed than ever allow a living soul to see it

his laugh sneaks up on him. he's all about maintaining control and composure but unfettered joy always just blows past his defenses. He's a "HA!" and then silent, muffled laughter kinda guy <3

idk why but i feel in my spirit that if he giggles, he hiccups. its rare for him to giggle but i think he gets stuck in it and its cute.

part one of ben rehabilitation project: getting this guy some normal clothes. he starts dressing more casually. he's still like an awkward, angry duckling, but he seems much more approachable. He washes his hair (poe sources good curl care for him to get some volume back in that mop)

For the first while of defecting to the Resistance, he's sorta a dark shadow. Doesn't talk, doesn't leave his room, etc. But as he does start to follow Finn, Poe, and Rey around, he does notice their closeness. The casual touch. He envies it.

It takes a little while, but slowly Rey starts including him in on jokes. Finn and Poe are slower to forgive, often making jokes at his expense, but...Ben's treacherous flares of temper start to subside. He gets used to quietly listening and smiling but knows better than to assume he's included. Shadowing them becomes a gift.

Ben's not sure when Poe and Finn start talking to him and acknowledging he's there, but he absolutely does notice Poe jabbing him in the ribs for not 'paying attention'. He passes it off as being startled but he can feel Rey's mind hovering at the edge of his own, keen as ever, like Ben Solo I Know What You Are (ticklish)

Finn, Poe, and Rey deliberate for a week about how exactly to go about this (Ben gets cagey. why are they whispering?) and eventually Poe is just like. look. i've got credits on this. you ticklish?

i am team 'Ben goes completely red when flustered'. just top to bottom imperial red. Poe asks him this and he turns into a fucking tomato. gives the world's most unconvincing no. and it is Rey who (very gently) proves him wrong, thus opening the floodgates to bully him over time.

Ben gets used to Poe's arms thrown over his shoulders, Finn leaning on him, or Rey tucking herself into his side. He literally never gets used to the tickling fingers seeking softness he thought he'd long crushed away

he gets very good at paying attention to a briefing while slapping way/wrestling with Finn, Poe, AND Rey's hands. laser focused.

Ben is usually a teasing voice on the sidelines when the trio gets up to tickly shenanigans, but i am a HUGE fan of Poe getting comfy and talking shit and Ben just looping his arms under Poe's and holding him for Finn and Rey to go to town. To win Ben's favor is to win a tickle fight. Finn is very good at this. Ben sides with him bc its the funniest option (and Poe's dramatic, betrayed gasps are the best).

He is so good at reading people and so specific in teasing. Such a scary ler but also very funny? He's very deadpan and witty. It's always unexpected. his parents really shine thru in him when he's up to mischief

Rey and Ben engage in long distance Force warfare that literally always ends in one of them slumped against the wall giggling. Finn learns to manipulate the Force and things get wild lol

Ben's palms are ticklish. I know this to be true.

He is fucking impossible to take down. Finn, Rey, and Poe have to tactically coordinate to ambush him. He's got a sixth sense for their bullshit. But! once he goes down he just kinda deflates. One person is the designated 'hold Ben's wrists' guy bc he always tries to hide his face

big fan of Ben giving Rey piggyback rides. Rey is a spider monkey to me. 50/50 Ben starts tickling her knees or Rey starts tickling his ears and they both collapse

love the idea of these four always being physically connected. esp since Ben is the tallest (i think). hes taking a nap and the trio just panini presses him into the mattress. their dogpiles always end in laughter or the best fucking naps ever. sometimes both

[kcd2]

hey ur answer to that ask last night (abt 27 being abt nowhere to go but death while i am my own muse shows a growth & healing, channelling that aggression spiral into music) is making me a tiny bit insane. Has anyone unpacked how i am my own muse straight into 27 kind of like. reframes 27 itself. pete + other members talked a long time ago abt how pete spent the entire year he was 27 in a haze, and how ppl legit thought he was gonna die; a whole year of his life spiraling w/ nowhere to go. and now looking at it in the context of i am my own muse (LIVE DEBUT!!!! THEY DELIBERATELY DEBUTED THIS SONG ALONGSIDE 27!!!!!) with the lyrics "got to throw this year away / we've got to throw this year away / like a bad luck charm" right into 27. i wonder what year is being thrown away. i wonder what memories they're implied to be moving past. throwing away the bad memories that have stopped hurting anyway tour of healing i'm going really crazy over this sorry if it's already been said also this is much longer than i thought it'd be sorry for the rant

GOD youre so so so right anon now youre making ME crazy in turn holyyyy shitttt... can i ALSO add that i always saw "smash all the guitars til we see all the stars" as such a like folie era/into hiatus era line too like they all got to breaking point, they were all in such a haze and destroying what they once saw as something sacred to them.. 27 to muse itself is soooo. theres a reason stardust seems like such a new era for fob cause it IS they are working through trauma especially from those pre-hiatus years and accepting that they had to destroy what they had to come back anew etc. so so much happened last night and this 8ball combo is probably one of the top things that is making me so crazy too. im right here with you anon

[haggishlyhagging]

The power of presence that is experienced by those who have begun to live in the new space radiates outward, attracting others. For those who are fixated upon patriarchal space it apparently is threatening. Indeed this sense of threat is frequently expressed. For those who are thus threatened, the presence of women to each other is experienced as an absence. Such women are no longer empty receptacles to be used as "the Other," and are no longer internalizing the projections that cut off the flow of being. Men who need such projection screens experience the power of absence of such "objects" and are thrown into the situation of perceiving nothingness. Sometimes the absence of women that elicits this anxiety is in fact physical. For example, when women deliberately stay away from meetings, social gatherings, etc., in order to be free to do what is important to ourselves, there is sometimes an inordinate response of protest. Sometimes the absence is simply non-cooperation, refusal to "play the game" of sex roles, refusal to flatter and agree, etc. This too hints at presence of another space that women have gone off to, and the would-be users are left with no one to use. Sometimes, of course, the absence of women takes the form of active resistance. Again, it throws those who would assume the role of exploiters back into their sense of nothingness.

In this way then, women's confrontation with the experience of nothingness invites men to confront it also. Many of course respond with hostility. The hostility may be open or, in some cases, partially disguised both from the men who are exercising it and from the women to whom it is directed. When disguised, it often takes seductive forms, such as invitations to "dialogue" under conditions psychologically loaded against the woman, or invitations to a quick and easy "reconciliation" without taking seriously the problems raised. Other men react with disguised hostility in the form of being "the feminist's friend," not in the sense of really hearing women but as paternalistic supervisors, analysts, or "spokesmen" for the movement. Despite the many avenues of nonauthentic response to the threat of women's power of absence, some men do accept the invitation to confront the experience of nothingness that offers itself when "the Other" ceases to be "the Other" and stands back to say "I am." In so doing men begin to liberate themselves toward wholeness, toward androgynous being. This new participation in the power of being becomes possible for men when women move into the new space.

-Mary Daly, Beyond God the Father: Toward a Philosophy of Women’s Liberation

[aishu-no-melody]

Can you please talk about Roy Mustang for me? I'd love to hear your interpretation of him? What do you think of him in 03 vs brotherhood/manga?

Ok grab a snack lol.

So to preface I have to say that I don't like Brotherhood in general and my opinions on that play a part in my opinion of Roy. He's my absolute favorite character like I have a VHS tape from like 2005 where I took my sister's VCDs and literally took up half the tape of a Roy montage lol. But these are my opinions and why I think he has the superir portrayl in 03.

Keep in mind though I have seen Brotherhood once, havent read the manga in years, but ive seen 03 and COS SO SO SO many times.

So I feel like the overall theme of Brotherhood is "military and armestris good. Ishvalain immigrants bad." And the military in 03 is painted so much differently. It's more realistic and they drive home the point that the military fucked up and show us that Roy really has not been a great person. I mean in 03 we see him try to kill himself twice over the fact that he's killed so many people and especially he's haunted by the innocent children. When he kills Winrys parents he realzies hes become so absolutely immoral and rotten that he has killed his own people and gets turnt and tries to take his own life. He's shady, there's that scene where he threatens to blackmail child Edward/expose him and Al (it's early in the season but I can't quite remember what for) yet he tries to shelter them from how harsh reality is. He thinks by becoming Furher everything will be okay now, he will be forgiven, and the country will be better. Long story short he has his own agenda that sounds great on paper but in reality, at least in the first like half of the series, is impossible.

The growth of his character in 03 is huge and they kind of stealthily plant the seeds early on. He's no longer gunning for the position of Furher because of his own selfish reasons, he's actively seeking revenge for Hughes which makes him start to unravel.

Obviously the character of Pride/Bradley deviates from the source in 03. Actually all the homonculous and their personal foes are directly related to the people they're fighting. Edward/Sloth etc. The whole relationship of Bradley and Roy and also the characterization of Bradley as Pride is very deliberate - Roy fights Bradley and is severely wounded/almost dies fighting Pride. The entire series Roy has so much pride and so much of an ego that it's destroying him. He is literally forced to face his own deadly sin and to kill his own ego.

Ultimately he kills Bradley but in doing so his life unravels and he does not get to be the hero, the savior, the one that fixes everything which his pride previously convinced him he was capable of doing. In COS we find him isolated, depressed and a shell of his former self, waiting for Edward to return, crippled and alone. Even by the end when he saves the day in the fancy little air balloon, he still cannot protect Edward and looses him forever. He looses absolutely everything and the director of COS even said in some kind of interview or something that after the movie Roy still would never hold the same power he once did and have that same respect. So at the end of the day - he has thrown everything he's ever had away for good because of his pride. He has no happy ending. He redeems himself to the viewer (unless you're me and the second you first see him go 😍 zaddy I can fix him) but by then he is too far gone - he is both an awful person and a martyr. We know his heart ultimately is in the right place by the end but his war crimes and atrocities still exist and his failure is still very evident. If you've never seen it, look up the 10 of Swords tarot card - while I'm pretty sure they did not purposely do it, the meaning of the card and ESPECIALLY the imagery of the original card is so so accurate and I think the best summary of his character. Look up Labyrnthos or something like that their summary of it is the best.

So I feel like in 03 he has far more depth and his character arc is so, so, much richer.

To discuss this I also have to get into his relationship with the Elric brothers, mainly Edward. He and Edward are parallels of each other - both of them are arrogant and oblivious and in trivial pursuit of righting their wrongs, when in reality there is nothing they can do to rectify either situation or take back the damage they've done. Roy obviously does care for the Elric brothers but does not know how to show it properly and ends up hurting them more than helping them, he basically put them into a world that destroys them - Edward loves his brother but can't outwardly emote it in the same way Al can and ends up literally destroying Al's everything when he convinces him to help attempt their mom's life.

Edward hates people who use others for their own personal gain or for selfish reasons, he hates arrogance and hatred itself. He rightly identifies all these qualities in Roy who he appears to hate, when in reality Edward tried to bring back his mom knowing there's a chance he and his brother could die, he is also extremely arrogant and has no problem using all the militaries money and resources to do what he wants yet he cannot fathom why Roy, who sticks his neck out for him many times, gets angry with him or why some Ishvallans people are offended that he is in the military.

They have some distantly codependent relationship because they both realize they need each other - Roy needed to recruit Edward initially to show off, he also realizes Edward knows valuable information he uses to complete his goal, but also sees someone who needs some form of guidance and discipline. Edward needs Roy so he can access the power and resources he provides but he also at the end of the day, after leaving the military and coming back randomly and literally going AWOL, Roy (AND his team) does not abandon him.

So knowing that Edward is loyal, Roy assumes in the last episode when he runs into Edward on the street looking fine as hell, that Edward will join him in his battle with pride. Roy has to go into battle now alone which it seems he didn't apparently take into account and because of this he barely beats Bradley and almost dies. Edward finally accepts that Roy isn't 100% gutted and sees the good in him and finally becomes aware that the military he chose to join is corrupt, therefore so is he - he doesn't think what Roy is going to do will solve anything yet he goes and fights Dante to basically accomplish the same thing. You finally see that deep down they did always care about each other. When they say goodbye it is like the completion of both character arcs, at least for the series itself.

In COS they still follow the same path in that, yes, did they accomplish their goals? For sure, but now Roy -who succesfully killed Bradley - is demoted and exciled and miserable, and Edward -who got his brothers body restored - is alone and has absolutely nobody who understands him and is stuck that way for life.

This relates to my over feelings about Roy and his character arc because it adds to the depth of it. Their relationship is integral to it and would not be the same at all without it. I didnt talk much about Brotherhood because its been so long I don't want to mess up the facts on, but the one thing that plays into my opinion is that in BH Roy does get what he wants and I dont like that. Roy does not desevre that unfortunately and it is way boring because its like.....oh....ok? What a total shocker -_- VS Wow after ALL this, he fails even though we all think hes going to succeed at first. I also like how Edward is portrayed in 03 way better and all that ties into it to but that's another topic itself.

[featherlouise]

Do you have any more funfacts about mothfriend, his relationship with Hollow, their kids or maybe the childhood friends AU? 👀 I am very normal about all of them (lies)

Okok so I kinda have a habit of centring all my characters’ lives around the main character. So!! I’ve been thinking about mothfriend’s childhood, how he came to live in the middle of nowhere, etc

So!!

The day the Radiance is consumed by the void, her dying screams echo across the lands. It’s a sound no mortal has heard in millennia, but every living being intrinsically knows the meaning of: the death of a god.

As the child of the Seer, he was expected to have a deeper connection to the dream realm than most, and as such was raised with. A lot. Of pressure put onto him. On top of that, his mother believed that if she were to offer her child to the Radiance as a vessel, her connection to Her would deepen, and she would forever be known as the one who broke the chains cast upon their goddess by the pale usurper.

When the Radiance dies, however, mothfriend ceases to be of any use. His magical abilities are lacklustre, to say the least, and with Her gone, he just becomes another mouth to feed.

I’ve not really worked the specifics, but long story short, mothfriend takes the commotion caused by Her death to make a break for it. He runs out into the middle of a blizzard and doesn’t look back. He runs until he can’t and then runs even further. Because if he knows one thing, it’s that he cannot stay in this kingdom. Not with how deep the Order has sunk their teeth into it.

Eventually, he reaches the edge of the kingdom (the capital is p near the border, so this takes maybe an hour or two) and he knows that if he doesn’t find shelter soon, he’s a dead man walking.

(I’ve not figured out how, bc I don’t want him to just find it by chance but!!) eventually, he stumbles across a cabin, and figures if there are any owners, they won’t begrudge him for taking shelter in their barn, and manages to fall into a fitful sleep.

When he wakes up, there’s a blanket thrown over him. (Again, not worked out the details (this is a very new idea lmao))

Turns out!! This cabin is owned by a blind old lady, and while she can get by pretty well on her own, manual labour jobs her wife used to do have been getting more and more difficult. Mothfriend, with nowhere else to go, takes up her offer of lodging in return for work.

I’ve been thinking about mothfriend’s character a little, and have decided that his kind, mild, generally teddy bear like demeanour?? It’s VERY deliberate. Mothfriend is VERY hot headed, and for the first few months of his stay with the lady, whenever he starts getting angry, she sends him outside to chop wood to let out his frustration.

When he’s done, he’ll bring whatever’s usable (aka whatever hasn’t been chopped to pieces) into the house, puts it into the basket next to the fireplace, and sits down at the dining table with the lady, who made a warm drink for the both of them while she waited (sometimes it’s tea, other times it’s hot chocolate, or coffee, she’s surprisingly good at figuring out just what mothfriend needs in these moments).

While they drink, they talk. And, through these chats, he learns that the lady (“Call me Gran, dear.”) had a wife and child, the former of which passed away peacefully in her sleep almost a decade ago. Her child on the other hand?? Was captured and presumably killed by “religious fanatics” when he was young. Almost half a century later she still has no idea what happened to him.

He decides not to tell her about the Order.

One day, a couple of months into his stay, she tells him to help her clean out the spare room in the cottage, since he “may as well have somewhere proper to sleep, can’t have your back giving out before mine!! That couch does you no good.”

It’s at this point mothfriend begins to worry about possibly trying to replace Gran’s lost child, and when he brings it up during one of their post wood chopping conversations, she just laughs, and tells him,

“Dear, just because I’m letting more people into my life, it doesn’t mean I’ve gotta kick anyone else out!! This ain’t a hotel, hon. My heart’s got unlimited space. Once you’re in here,” she pats herself on the chest, “Y’ain’t leavin’.”

After a few years, Gran’s health starts to deteriorate. A few years after that, she passes away, bedridden, with Mothfriend holding onto her hand.

Before she goes, she tells him, “I’m glad you escaped those evil sons a’ bitches dear. Never woulda’ met my favourite grandson otherwise.”

He never finds out how she knew, and surprisingly, it doesn’t bother him.

A year later, an injured god (though he doesn’t know that) shows up on his doorstep