#she's trying to repress too many things and something has got to come out

[savingthrcw]

@x-hollywoodghoul-x the second kissy thread for Coop!

There were very few people in this world who could get under her skin the way the Ghoul had, no people, in fact, it was just him, who may not have been as aggressive and cruel as when they had first met, but by existing tempted her to behave in some very not nice ways. And while a part of her was questioning everything she was, because Moldaver had made very clear they had been shaped by what Vault Tec managers wanted for their future wives and husband, and Lucy could even start pintpointing all the little ways she could see it in herself, at the same time she also didn't want to become an entirely new person. Some of the things she had been taught, some of the personality traits she had, were good. She didn't want to be mean. She didn't want to be sarcastic, short with people, jaded. She didn't want to be mad. But oh, she was furious. She was torn apart. She was beyond angry at her father, she was disgusted by Vault Tec, she was heartbroken over her mother. She was all sorts of negative things that she didn't want to be, and suppressing it only worked so much. Still, gritted teeth and all, Lucy had forced herself to be polite, at least when she wasn't lost into one of her involuntary silent times, so busy being sad or rimuginating that she forgot to talk, and she had also forced the Ghoul, as long as he wanted to keep traveling with her, to get sidetracked a few times so she could help people in need. The way that made her feel told Lucy that yes, it was a real part of her, that need to not abandon people to their destiny was not something forced into her head.

The last guy in need was one the Ghoul hadn't trusted one bit, felt just too innocent, and he had been telling her she was wrong to the point of betting on it, betting he'd kiss her booboos, that absolute butthead, except that for once, just for once, her instinct had been right, the man had been telling the truth, and they had taken out a few slavers - talking them down had been useless, and once again she knew she had been far too violent when forced into hand to hand combat, something she prayed he'd just let pass without commenting on it - which had also meant getting their hands on their supplies, a win for both of them. She had been right. And she really, really wanted to be the bigger person, she should be, it was the correct way to handle their relationship, considering they had to keep traveling together and hostility would bring nothing good to the table-"I thought you'd say you'd kiss my booboos if I was right?" And so, bad instincts had won.

"What did people say before the war, 'put your money where your mouth is'? Though I suppose you'd be putting your mouth where your mouth was... Unless you want to take it back, of course," a magnanimous offer, "And just verbally and clearly admit that I was right, you were wrong, and you owe me an amount of caps to be determined."

[hecksupremechips]

The way akishinji and ashbella both have dramatic coma scenes and dramatic shot through the heart scenes like we’ve gotta stop meeting like this 😩

[markanddebbie-protectionprogram]

comparison and analysis on eve and mark's colors

i know this miggght be me overthinking but i really need to get it out of my system ahahajshajsha

Pink is definitely Eve's signature color, it's the main color of her costume yet somehow you don't see that in her casual attire. As for Mark, no doubt his signature color is blue (even yellow can be included), and that's obvious in both his costume and his casual attire.

this post contains pics from season 1 and the atom eve special, putting a cut here cause this is lowkey long so,,,, oops-

Eve wore pink a LOT when she was a kid, it's in her every outfit throughout all the time skips in the special. When a character has a signature color, it's something that's reflected in (nearly all of) their outfit/s.

So where did the pink go on Eve's casual attire on season 1? Where did she even got the idea of wearing yellow of all colors when it's so far from her favorite color? There's red that when you mix it with white, it gives you pink. So she could have had a red top and white pants in her current casual attire, but that's not the case.

We got our answer on who she got the idea of wearing yellow from in the Atom Eve special: it was from Betsy.

There's a key thing that I noticed from the shade of yellow Betsy wore and what Eve is currently wearing. Betsy's yellow seemed happier. It was more vibrant.

Comparing Betsy's yellow to Eve, Eve's yellow is lighter. It's dull. As if it was drained of its vibrancy. And with what we saw of Eve's past in the special, it checks out that she must've have become so, so tired of so many things.

In animated series, yellow is often associated with warm, happy, and energetic characters. But when it comes to cinematography, yellow represents other things. From the link, I think cowardice is the symbolism of Betsy's yellow - due to her fear of Eve not being "normal" and her inability to accept Eve as she is. And @mandareeboo even pointed out Betsy telling Eve to "try harder" which leads to the symbolism of yellow that I associate with Eve: insecurity. There is no bigger source of insecurity than having your own parent say that to you, especially at a young age when a lot of things feel they're scary and overwhelming that you need a parent to guide you through it but instead they just tell you to repress yourself.

It's no wonder that Eve's yellow looked pale in comparison to past Betsy's yellow, pretending for years must have been exhauasting.

(Before anyone comment that Zak could be the reason Eve wore yellow instead of Betsy, I have an explanation I'm going to be giving later so please bear with me on this one hahahsdfjahsfda)

Now on to Mark!!

In the Atom Eve special, Debbie wore no shades of either blue or green. In fact, her top's color leans more to give a nod to Nolan's signature color (red). That, and their family pictures from season 1 showed that aside from Debbie, there was a time that Mark wore red too.

Compared to Eve and Betsy, I find it so fascinating that the opposite applies for Mark and Debbie.

We can see that kid Mark's shorts and top are currently the colors of Debbie's top and pants.

It was a nice switch to see the mom's colors reflecting her child. You often see the kid copying the color of their parent/s. This doesn't necessarily mean Debbie copied Mark, as a mom, this is her way of commemorating her son.

The two stripes on Mark is a brighter shade of aquamarine while Debbie's top is a darker shade of Caribbean green, and both colors are near to each other in the color spectrum. Which is definitely something we can describe their relationship: they are close to each other.

I always thought that the stripes across Mark's chest was sort of a subtle design thing to show that he keeps his mom, who represents his humanity, close to his heart. Seeing that Debbie got her colors from kid Mark adds a whole new layer to it.

This is the part where I compare the then & the now:

The reason why I mentioned Eve would never have picked up yellow with Zak in mind was that he was just a temporary figure in her life. Eve used to wear pink so much before, it was her favorite - so one can assume that the color itself brought her joy. You see Betsy wearing pink (this is the episode Eve left "home"). So my reasoning for Betsy wearing this color was to appease Eve, while Eve wore yellow to represent her trying to please her mom.

For Debbie and Mark, it was crucial for Debbie to wear the colors Mark wore as a kid. Throughout the series, we see how desperate Mark wanted to be like Nolan, to be good with his powers so he can be a good hero. One would think that Mark would have incorporated red in his outfit, but he didn't. What stood in the place of red in Mark's outfits was yellow, a color that's close to red in the rainbow arrangement. Using the same link for the meanings of the color yellow in cinematography from earlier, Mark's yellow symbolizes two things: naivety and idealization.

See how Mark has a yellow button-up underneath his sweater? It's his naivety about his father, it's not all out there yet it's on all the ends of his sweater as if making sure you know that the yellow is something that should be seen. And Mark's yellow I in his costume? That's idealization. In his eyes, Omni-Man is (probably, I can't speak for Mark 100%) the best hero. He idolizes his dad, there was never a doubt about it. He has put Nolan in such a high standard that there was more yellow in his costume to represent his idealization rather than his own signature blue.

That's why it's so important that Debbie wore his colors from the Atom Eve special in season 1. That Mark sees that on his mom. It was a reminder of kid Mark. That even then, he was just as precious. That he mattered even wayyyy before he had powers. That he mattered because of his humanity.

[inhales deeply to catch my breath] NOW FOR THE FINAL PART!!

i'm sorry this is so long i had so many thoughts about colors, color symbolism in characters is so personal to me.

you guys can skip these pics and list cause this is kinnnnd of a stretch now hahajsdfha - feel free to go straight at the portion after the bullet points end, that's just my final ramblings dedicated for season 2

Back to topic of colors!! It's obvious at this point how relevant both Mark and Eve's moms are when it comes to their colors. So it leaves me with two remaining things about Mark and Eve: (1) the color red on Mark on his casual outfit and (2) the color pink on Eve on her casual outfit

The only moments we saw red on Mark that isn't blood is when he wore his bag. Now I know this is a pretty small thing but that bag could literally be ANY other color - and it isn't, it's specifically red. It could have been white to match his shoes or black to match his hair but it's neither of that. It's red. It's Nolan.

I think it's really important to know the relevance of that red bag, especially in those two pictures. (1) The moment Todd was harassing Amber and Mark wanted to intervene, it's totally obvious that Mark carries the heavy fact that at the moment, he's powerless unlike his dad. And it sucks. Cause he's his father's son and even though he carries his blood, at the time, he doesn't carry Nolan's powers. It doesn't stop him from defending Amber, but it still hurts bothliterally from Todd's hits and emotionally. Mark's carrying the feeling of inadequacy cause he has no idea how to defend himself in this situation, his dad never taught him how to fight because he didn't have powers.

(2) The second picture was Mark rushing to school because his training with his dad made him late for class. He got powers now, and it's literally dragging him from his education (among other things and that's including his relationship with Amber). His power of flight, no matter how fast it is, doesn't get him to places on time. Even when he got his powers, he still had problems. They actually piled up now.

Now as for Eve, sure her casual attire doesn't have any pink on it but her bags are pink!! (1) The first picture of her was when she and Mark met at school. During my first watch, I found it cute that she held on to the straps cause it's a little habit of mine when I wear backpacks. Then at the (2) other picture where she had her luggage out so she can run away from "home", I noticed they're pink too. And it's a small observation but compared to Mark that just lets his bag hang down, Eve holds on to her bags.

The bags are both pink, and pink is her color. It's not a piece or part of her, it's her. Pink has been something she deprived herself to wear but it's something she still wants to keep, even if it's just with bags. It's the thing she's comfortable to carry, it's something she wants to hold in her hands.

I know bags are a practical item for any student to have and I overthought a lot about their bags' colors but yeah hahasdfjasdfha I'm done with that now

CLOSING WORD TIMEEEE HAHAHADSFAHFAHA

man that was a lot, anywayssss

The season 2 poster showed that Debbie has a new outfit. As for Mark and Eve, they're both wearing their hero costumes.

Slight spoilers from the comics: When Nolan left, there was a time that Mark began to dress himself in a style similar to Nolan (I can't tag op for some reason :(().

I feel there's a big chance Mark and Eve will also have new casual attires this coming second season.

Mark is likely to dress similar to Nolan just like in the comics. He will definitely have questions about his identity now that he knew the truth about Nolan, so I think Mark won't be able to wear his usual colors to show that he's figuring things out.

Mark could also wear that blue and black costume, the one that doesn't have the yellow anymore. Because he won't be idolizing his father's heroic persona anymore.

Mark, of course, misses his dad but he won't be looking up to him anymore after what happened.

As for Eve's season 2 casual look though, now that she has her own treehouse and starting to feel free from her parents, I hope she allows herself to incorporate pink in her clothing. She deserves it <33

[kelseytheballerina]

Heyy so Starting by being straight up and admitting that envy is an ugly habit I have. I see people who grew up with money living their best life and I get hurt and mad because I'm working my ass off just trying to get by, or I see an attractive woman and feel like crap. Its something I'm recognizing as a problem and I want to stop. I saw a post where you said something about being inspired and motivated by women who are better off/more successful/prettier/etc instead of comparing and getting jealous. How do you actually put that into practice and acheive that mindset?

totally, so basically I would just look at it as inspiration and proof of an outcome. a lot of our desires can be based on theory. the possibility of having this or going there or excelling in this way. but we don’t technically know if we could pull it off or if it’s ever been done before with a specific set of conditions, so our goals and desires are just a theory. for example, maybe you desire to be a mom-model-actress-ceo under 25 and you see a woman literally become just that. I wouldn’t be like “grrrr how dare she have what I want” I would be happy that I now have proof that what I want is in the realm of possibility and there is a path that has been laid out should I choose to use hers as a blueprint. people will likely be more accepting of me doing the same thing since there’s already been someone who has come before me and been successful. plus, now you could have a potential peer who becomes a potential friend when you are in the same circle. when it comes to beauty, there’s so many girls out there being unapologetically into beauty care so now people won’t be weirded out when I start showing up with nails and hair and cute clothes because they have helped break down the taboo. so it’s more of an appreciation for them trailblazing a path or showing time and time again that something is possible and here’s what it looks like for a 35 year old and a 60 year old and a 19 year old and a white American and a black American and a Nigerian Brit and so on and so forth. it’s inspirational data.

it’s like, I now know I’m not crazy and my aspirations are attainable at least to a degree (factoring in variables like where you’re born and parents you’re born to, etc) so all I have to do is stay on track and I’ll be there too some day. when I’m studying over and over and wondering if this is even real and then I see a classmate got an A, I feel better knowing that I’m not screaming into the void and that the outcome I seek is actually a reality. I no longer feel like I’m rowing in open water of uncharted territory. this land has been conquered before and that’s great! so maybe I won’t get skin exactly like hers but I’ll get close. maybe I won’t get her salary at the same age she did but even if I have to work an extra 5 years I’ll be glad I was inspired by her to keep going. maybe you didn’t consider the possibility of having certain things until you saw that woman with it and now your mindset has been expanded to have more out of life.

I feel like when you’re envious, there’s a part of you deep down that will secretly wish for someone’s downfall, even if you’re friends with them because it’s a “me vs you and there can only be one” mentality. which means you’ll be likely to think everyone else is secretly out to get you too or the world is conspiring against you when it’s nothing of the sort. but when you have an “I’m happy for you and patiently waiting my turn” mentality, you’re more likely to see the blessings happening to you in action, you’re more likely to be a positive person around such women and they’d more likely want to be around you and help you come up with them rather than feeling some sort of repressed hater energy.

I always just remember that none of us are on the same timeline and not everyone peaks at the same age. some are late bloomers, some have more barriers in the way, but that just means you will end up being someone else’s inspiration one day when they find interest in your variables and outcome. let your journey be what it will be and keep your mind open to the wisdom you’re collecting along the way. if it took you 3 years to clear your skin up, you’ll have waaaay more insight on the topic than someone who’s only ever experienced the occasional breakout and let’s say you wanted to turn that into a skincare YouTube channel or something, you’d have more success than someone with nothing to say. what I mean by that is, sometimes the ones with the long journeys that feel unfavorable in the moment end up blooming into an unforeseen opportunity in the future.

envy is never worth it. it just makes the journey more miserable than it needs to be and pushes people away.

[nocturnalazure]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose as many sims/ocs as you'd like for this question, What's something INCREDIBLY obscure and/or out-of-pocket about your sim/oc? Something that nobody (fellow sims and/or your followers and mutuals) knows 👀 (This could be things about their social skills, physicality and/or birth defects, or it could be something they vaguely remember, a dream they had that actually predicted the future, etc etc... whatever you come up with)

( p.p.s freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the # SQOTD ~ 💛 )

Oh, thank you Anon! What a lovely question!

I love daydreaming about my OCs and I can come up with a thousand little details about them. I also love integrating those details into my story whenever possible. But the game is sometimes limiting and I can't show everything that I'd like to show, that's why I'm so grateful for OC asks: I get the chance to mention all those things that make up my characters and that would never get mentioned otherwise.

(I'm writing a whole essay again, I'll try to make it short)

So here are a few facts from previous character development questions/oc asks in which I've mentioned a detail that was simply never mentioned or shown in the story, directly or indirectly. :)

Nathaniel: drives too fast and gets speeding tickets. Would have liked to be a piano teacher.

Theo: got the 'heart of stone' lifetime reward. Likes Carmina Burana.

Ralph: was an alcoholic at some point. [NB: that's actually more or less induced in the very first scene in which he appears, which is in a watering hole] Listens to country music. Likes to sniff Pippa's belongings (like a dog!).

Sam: is a fan of Lily Allen. Has a husky voice. Tried to make latte art but failed. Uses "moron" a lot. Is a spendthrift.

Noah: was supposed to become a gigolo in my original storyline for him. Is a repressed Borderline.

Ash: actually strongly autistic-coded. He described love as being (I quote) "a four-leaf clover". Forgets pens everywhere he goes.

Uli: is scared of pigeons.

Ivy: her mother died of cancer when she was a baby. Is scared of old age and her body failing her. Likes sex toys.

Seth: the car he repaired at some point in the story was bought by Yu Wong (Anh's grandmother). His greatest fear was that Erik would suffer from something he's done. Doesn't like people touching him (except his wife).

Tristan: his rings are signet rings (the one on his thumb bears his family crest, the one on his little finger has a rather unidentifiable gemstone coming from his mother). Met in person King Louis XIV of France, Bach and Charlie Chaplin.

Laurie: his favorite drink is Gin & Tonic. Has a Discord account.

Anh: loves mooncakes. Watches anime.

Eloise: doesn't like video games. Loves the holiday season and listening to Tristan playing the piano.

Erik: is a fan of Deadpool and Wolverine. Loves the smell of gasoline and cinnamon.

Romeo: went by Federico in gay bars. Would like to adopt a cat. Is an excellent swimmer.

Jamie: dips his chip back into the salsa after taking a bite. Doesn’t call ahead when he’s late. Chews on his fingernails.

Omar: loves pistachios and Candy Crush.

[spidermanifested]

@canirim clapping my hands okay Mei Paninya Scar. Lets Go

MEI

sexuality headcanon: Baby Bi. i think that she does not yet know that girls are also a viable romantic option but if she realized she would be over the moon about it. transfem al is a fun concept and i think if that happened she would go all in on the new fantasy of BEING SWEPT OFF HER FEET BY A BEAUTIFUL LADY KNIGHT

gender headcanon: once again i dont have anything too spectacular. shes gods specialest princess and shes never going to die

a ship i have with said character: her and al are pretty cute i guess although im not hyper invested in them

a brotp i have with said character: her and scar are literally everything. she shoupd have been allowed to kill people for disrespecting him on screen

a notp i have with said character: have not seen any mei ships aside from al/mei honestly? Which i mean is. for the best given this fandoms track record

a random headcanon: i envision that part of the reason shes so comfortable adopting random middle aged men is that she was largely raised by her mothers extended family after said mother died in childbirth. her clan is very tight-knit anyway and she's never had a reason Not to trust the adults around her, they all treat her like their own daughter which both gives her a very optimistic view of people in general and also leaves her feeling that deep sense of obligation to return the favor somehow. she knows all their lives are resting on her shoulders and THEY know its fucked up to be relying on a child for something like that but also they dont have much of an alternative. theyre all just trying to do the best they can. I Thinnk About This A Lot

general opinion over said character: mei chang i would kill the sun for you

PANINYA

sexuality headcanon: Romantically Inexperienced Awkward Teenage Lesbian

gender headcanon: i think when she grows up she should get butcher. not the profession. theres too many of thosr in fma already

a ship i have with said character: winry/paninya is really cute....... and honestly i liked their interactions in 03 better than the manga or brotherhood, they should get to be partners in crime and do stupid shit together. wish we got to see more of them hanging out in rush valley

a brotp i have with said character: i like that her and garfiel are buddies

a notp i have with said character: ???

a random headcanon: i fully believe the only reason she had the guns put in her legs was because she thougjt it would be cool. she convinced dominic on grounds of self defense but she absolutely was just thinking wouldnt it be sick if my knees had guns in them

General Opinion over said character: she has such a fun personality and design and i wish, so hard her storyline was different. its agonizing to watch her episode seeing her go yeah so i lost my whole family and home and also my legs in an incredibly traumatizing childhood accident and then an adult man kidnapped me off the street and forced me to undergo painful invasive surgical procedures against my will. But like i can walk again so it was pretty great of him actually and i can only hope to repay his generosity someday. Girl you do not need a random stranger chastising you for stealing from rich tourists. you need therapy to come to terms with the fact that uour right to bodily autonomy was infringed upon,

SCAR

sexuality headcanon: could be gay could be bi i dont really have him pinned down as anything but "very repressed". i dont think hes ever been in a relationship, hes always seemed to have way bigger priorities, but with him i dont feel like that translates to "UNINTERESTED in relationships" because of how much of his character revolves around denying himself comfort and identity. i think if somebody kissed him he would cry

gender headcanon: i dont think hed describe himself as anything besides a man if you asked him, but i also think his experience of gender is also one of those things that got a little foggy and disconnected along with the other identity related baggage. Gender: A Necessary Violence and the Only Means to Achieve It. whatever pride flag goes with that one

a ship i have with said character: still championing my scar/greed agenda

a brotp i have with said character: aside from him and mei, his relationship with his brother is very interesting to me and i like to stir around all the complicated feelings he has to have about that guy in the soup of my mind

a notp i have with said character: ive seen him get shipped with olivier sometimes. Dont really like that one i must say

a random headcanon: when he was a teenager he used to privately write poetry and then got really embarrassed about its perceived amateurish shortcomings and stopped forever

general opinion over said character: the single most interesting and layered character in the whole series honestly and once again i wish we didnt take That Direction with him towards the end. all his thoughts and feelings are so tangled up, i love the way he cant seem to help but attract community and compassion despite how hard he tries to shake it off, whatever he thinks of himself hes still at his core an incredibly kind person clinging to a reason to survive. Save me mr xbox logo

[scaryscarecrows]

Komodo Protocol

“You seen what they got going on in Demolitions?” Frank asks around his bacon. “Somethin’ real nasty, looks like.”

“No, I’ve been stuck on ‘light duty’ all week.” Antoine rolls his eyes. “You get one bug and everyone’s on your ass.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have tried breaking out of Medical all those times.”

“Shouldn’t have passed out mid-meeting, either.” Jimmy cackles. “Dude, if you died, we’d be fucked. Riley’s an enabler.”

“Clyde would take over,” the Knight says dryly. Jimmy squeaks. “Meeting at nine hundred.”

Meeting, not assembly. Something’s come up, then, because they had their weekly briefing two days ago. There hadn’t been anything of note at the time; next shipment of drones to Gotham, more than anything. Antoine’s pretty sure it was largely an excuse to hide from Deathstroke, who had left that afternoon anyway.

“Yessir.”

Once he’s gone, Jimmy leans in.

“So? What do you think’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Everything’s on schedule, and I haven’t seen anything weird come up.”

“Think something’s up in Gotham?”

“Maybe.” He finishes his coffee and tries–and fails miserably–at repressing a cough. “I’m fine, coughs linger, that’s not illegal!”

Mark frowns.

“That sounded ugly.”

“That’s what coughs do.” He’s not whining. He’s not. “Leave me alone, I’m better now.”

“I want you in my office after this meeting. Just for a quick check-up.”

“Oh, come on–”

“Forget, and I’ll come find you.”

Ugh. Fine. He’ll go. But he’s not going to like it.

* * *

“What is that?”

“Insurance.”

Okay. Insurance is always good. This, however, appears to be a bigass mine. Three feet in diameter, easy, and well-armored. Could probably withstand a Cobra drone rolling over it.

“Uh-huh,” Frank drawls. “For what.”

“It’s primarily to keep the military from getting involved.”

Antoine’s got news for him: the military, generally, considers Gotham as ‘fend for your fucking selves’ and probably would just pretend they didn’t see anything anyway. But sure. A little extra reassurance is nice.

“Also to keep anyone–or anything–else from stepping in.” Okay, that one’s fair. “It won’t hurt you if you walk on it; the sensors need more weight to activate the electricity.” Oh, it’s electric, too? Wonderful. “We’ll be deploying them pretty early in the night, once the drones have all been deployed.”

“They won’t fuck with the programming, will they?” Jimmy risks poking the thing. “It’s not like an EMP or whatever?”

“It shouldn’t, but I want you, when you map out the patrol route, to try not to run over them. I’ll give you a map of where I want them sometime next week.”

“How many are there?”

“Fourteen.”

Trent whistles.

“Jesus.”

“Gotham’s a big place.” The Knight shrugs. “We’re not shipping these over ahead of us; they go when we do. Clyde, I’m going to be making a special dummy; same sensors, I want to run some tests with the Cloudburst tank. If it comes to that, I’d really rather not blow this entire operation…literally.”

“Very funny, sir,” Frank says dryly. “I’ll make sure she’s ready to roll when you are.”

“Good. You five are dismissed. Drouot, you’re not.”

That doesn’t sound promising.

The others file out, though, leaving Antoine with the boss and a giant, scary-looking mine.

“These are also a contingency.”

And there it is. The boss has contingencies for his contingencies, which is, Antoine guesses, why they’re all still on this crazy crusade.

“Okay?” The Knight holds out a piece of paper with numbers on it. Antoine raises an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“The activation code to set these all off at once. In the event that I somehow end up incapacitated, unless I explicitly told you otherwise, I want you to initiate the Komodo Protocol: order a retreat and blow Gotham off the map.”

“Sounds like overkill.”

“When dealing with Batman, there is no such thing as overkill.”

“If you say so, sir.” Such an innocuous little paper. Ten digits. Ten digits and boom, one of the largest cities in the world turned into a charred crater. “Does Scarecrow know about this?”

“No, and we’re not mentioning it. If that code needs to be used, he doesn’t need to be informed.”

Well, in all honesty, Scarecrow is the one most likely to trigger this event. Antoine has never trusted the guy. He’s convinced that, Batman be damned, if he saw a chance to poison them all, he’d take it.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that, sir.”

“Hopefully not.” The Knight looks at the mine. “But I’d rather be prepared.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, boss?”

The boss just laughs.

“Probably not. Look, it’s like the bomb vests. I highly, highly doubt we’ll need it.”

Yeah…the bomb vests have not been mentioned to the troops at large. Voluntary or not, most people are not going to like the idea of a suicide vest being anywhere near them. If it comes down to that, then they’ll worry about it.

“If you say so, sir.” He looks from the paper to the mine again. “Did you need anything else?”

“No. You can go; I think Jones wanted to see you.”

Dammit.

* * *

“I’m sure that by now most of you have become aware of the events at Arkham Asylum.”

Antoine’s voice is hoarse, going in and out a little. He hasn’t slept, not really. Sure, Mark got a power nap out of him, but that’s about it and it wasn’t enough. He looks like shit, too, all washed out and with eye bags big enough to take on a cruise. That’ll happen, when you spend too much time in a chair.

“Batman do that, sir?”

“Yes and no. Before I continue, I want it clear: Batman is now considered a level five threat.”

“We can take him. Right, boys?” A cheer goes up. “Just tell us where he is, we’ll bring his head back in two hours.” 

Ha. Trent disagrees. Bastard’s got clown morals with Bat-bullshit, if he’s still alive–and he probably is–‘taking him’ is going to be a real bitch. It’s doable, probably, it’s just going to be difficult, especially with their best resource on both Batman and Joker being at death’s door.

Antoine’s smile is wintery and the cheer dies down, gives way to an uneasy silence. Trent can’t blame them for that. He’s usually the nice one. Nice is relative, but still.

“What you’ll be up against isn’t Batman anymore,” he says. “Now, I’m sure you all attended the briefing regarding the Joker’s death of TITAN poisoning.” Pfft. Trent knows damn well they didn’t, but that’ll keep them from jabbering. “Before that incident, the Joker supplied hospitals with tainted blood, and apparently gave Batman a transfusion as well. The cure didn’t take.” 

He turns to his laptop and taps a few keys. On screen, the footage Jimmy managed to get from the boss’s helmet earlier on Halloween looms large. Trent shudders. He’s seen some shit in his day, but that–a laughing, maniacal Batman attacking with full intent to kill–is in the running for his personal Top Five WTF. Thankfully, Antoine only lets it play for a few seconds, but those few seconds are enough to quiet the skeptical mutterings.

“That’s what you’re up against now. He will kill you, without a second thought. He has already killed Scarecrow–”

“Shit, we work for Richardson now?”

“No. The Arkham Knight dispatched her before the asylum blew up.”

At least that one stuck. Last thing they need is that vindictive little monster blaming them for what happened to Scarecrow.

“For the moment, we are going to continue as we were. I want drones sweeping the city, checkpoints manned, and watchtowers fully operational. If anybody sees anything, you call in immediately and you wait for backup. Don’t be a hero, your insurance does not cover facial removal.” There’s a smattering of nervous chuckles that Antoine does not join in. “Patrols: minimum of four, do not let each other out of your sight. Someone has to piss, you all go. Someone falls in one of those damn potholes and breaks an ankle, you all come back to base as a group. Understood?”

“Yessir.”

“Good. Any questions?” If they have any, they don’t ask them. Antoine closes his laptop, disconnects it, and turns on his heel. “Dismissed.”

Trent steps in fully as they file out. A few of them flinch, but most of them just keep moving.

“You look like shit,” he says bluntly. “Mark’s right, you need sleep.”

“I’m fine. Anything?”

“Couple of false alarms.”

“So no.”

“No.”

“Damn.” Antoine runs a hand through his hair. “Any change with the boss?”

“Still out. Look…what are we going to do, if he…doesn’t…wake up? Batman’s Gotham’s problem, right?”

Antoine just laughs, a little bitter, and starts towards the door.

“He only got maybe a quarter of the mines. We pull our men out and blow this city to Kingdom Come, see him walk that off.”

“What?”

“Komodo Protocol.” 

Trent’s heard of it. Well, seen it, in packets, but there’s never been any information about it. It’s just come up as, like, the last resort, no specifications.

“That’s what that is?” he demands. “Detonate the mines?”

“If it comes to that, yes.”

“Jesus Christ, man–”

“My orders are to put the bastard down, whatever it takes.” Antoine turns towards the back hallway. “Check in with the Arkham troops again, make sure they don’t need any further supplies. Did you send them a Cobra?”

“Yeah, earlier.”

“Good. Keep me posted.”

“Antoine.”

“What.”

“You’re sure about this?”

Antoine stops and turns around, swaying a little at the sudden change of direction.

“Yeah. If he dies, or doesn’t start waking up in another day or two, I’m calling it. We’ll finish the job one way or the other.” Jesus. “This stays between us for now. It may not come to that and there’s no reason to unsettle everyone.”

Trent nods.

“All right. You sure you’re not gonna grab a nap?”

“I’m fine.”

Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Look, Frank or Mark will probably bring the hammer down soon and when they do, Trent will be right there to enforce Bedtime.

“I’m gonna take a squadron out there,” he says. “Me and Riley: we’re taking some of his guys to investigate the little Batcave thing that turned up this morning.”

“Good. Stay in touch; that lecture goes for everyone.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find the bastard.”

“Hope so.” Antoine turns back around and starts walking again. “Good luck.”

THE END

[ourladyofmaplemurder]

Cheryl & The Blues

A lovely friend of mine pointed something out to me this morning. Namely, the "why" of the blue dress in Season 1, which had led me to the meaning of blue for Cheryl.

I had asked for his insights previously, as he is a costume designer who is far more visually inclined than I, but it wasn't until now that I got a response. (He has always been a RiverHater, but it seems he is coming around. Our flock grows. Praise Mother Gaia.) In any case, he pointed out that this dress is an attempt from Cheryl to embody Cinderella.

Here is a quick paraphrase of what he said:

She is is desperately trying to NOT be Cheryl during this dinner. At one point she even says "It's supposed to be Cinderella who ran away from the ball." Thus, the blue dress is here to help her emulate the "trad wife heterosexual Cinderella." By the end of the scene, she goes full Cheryl and snaps on Archie because her charade doesn't work and everyone still thinks she's a chaotic lesbian.

Lots to unpack here, no?

As we know, Cheryl IS red. So, seeing her in blue (and this is blue, despite the fact that it looks sort of green. A nod to envy, perhaps?) is very strange. Blue is Betty's color, and though Betty is NOT the ultimate trad wife heterosexual, she is coded that way. In fact, much of her internal character conflict is about her having to grapple with being "The Girl Next Door".

So, this dress is Cheryl's attempt to be "The Girl Next Door". It seems so simple now that I think about it, but still.

I think it's interesting that Cheryl invokes Cinderella specifically, rather than Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Snow White would certainly make sense. She's tortured by an evil mother figure and pale as snow, both things that Cheryl could relate to. There's even poison in that story and we all know how much Penelope loves poison. Sleeping Beauty wouldn't really make sense until after Cheryl's Sweet Water River incident, but still. I think it's kind of interesting how many fairytale princesses we could link to Cheryl.

She chooses Cinderella though. Why? Well, Cinderella is also tormented by an evil mother figure, but her most significant moment is being transformed. Cinderella is lifted from the ashes of her wretched life to go to the ball with the help of her fairy godmother in the hopes of winning the heart of the prince. The prince is clearly Archie and there is no Fairy Godmother. Maybe that's why it doesn't work.

In any case, Cheryl is a lot, even for herself, so it makes sense that she would try to suppress her true colors, so to speak, from time to time to satisfy a particular goal. She is aware that she is too much, at least to some degree at any given moment of the series, so yeah. She whips out the blue when she's trying to tone herself down.

(I'm probably making too much of this, but there's something about Cheryl Blossom and fairytales that just clicks in my mind. It reminds me of Blanche DuBois from Streetcar saying, "I don't want realism, I want magic!" I feel like Cheryl would agree with that. )

Also! Another time that Cheryl wears blue? Toni's bachelorette party in Season 6. This is another time that you could argue she is trying to suppress herself in the interest of being a supportive ex. (Also fascinating that Heather is wearing red! A testament to her love for Cheryl, I think. This IS right before they have their big kiss.)

She also wears blue when she comes up with the idea to kill Percival for Toni's wedding present. It's a sort of "show of support", but we all know she does not support this union and desperately wants Toni back so....

This is also likely why the Sister of Quiet Mercy uniforms are blue. They are symbols of repression for Cheryl specifically. (And Betty too, tbh. I think this 'suppression' narrative probably works for Betty too, but I would need to actually go through and check that. So, for now, let's just focus on Cher Cher.)

Now, Cheryl wears blue pretty often in season 7, but that makes sense considering the fact that she has to suppress herself quite a bit due to the nature of the times. But like, look at this:

These are all moments where Cheryl is actively suppressing her true feelings, in this case, the gay ones. However, what's different about these instances, and these costumes, is that the truth is always poking through. The suppression in the 50's is different. She's not trying to suppress herself FROM herself. Not in the long run. The red accents remind us who she truly is and that she is still Cheryl Blossom underneath that trad wife, heterosexual nonsense she's putting on.

All this to say: When Cheryl is wearing blue she is actively suppressing herself! It's consistent!

ADDENDUM:

Where does this analysis place her River Vixen uniform?

As you can see, it is predominantly blue. However, I do not think that it fits into the "suppression narrative" in the same way as her other blue outfits. The River Vixen uniform is blue, but it's also a symbol of the Town and of Cheryl's sense of belonging within her community. Though I do think the red versions of her Vixen attire that she wears in season 5 are symbolic of her truly owning her place in the town as the Coach of the Vixens and also the Blossom Heir, I don't think she's actively suppressing herself as a River Vixen.

Tune in next time for White and, one day, Green. (Also wondering about Pink.......)

Ciao!

[astroyongie]

IVE February Reading 2024

note: please take it lightly

Yujin

Love: as expected, the relationship she had in September is finished. At the moment she is repressing her rage about the end of this love story and focusing on herself 

Career: something has happened here. I can’t really pin point what, but it feels like Yujin got herself in bad sheets with either the manager or an higher up. Whatever she did upsetter them a lot and she had to “pay the price” 

Self: she is trying to focus on herself and on her schedules. Yujin is also working with her sponsor to have a overseas schedule for something important (fashion show perhaps?)

Gaeul

Love: Gaeul is back in a relationship with someone older than her and very influential that works inside the entrainment. At the moment she is happy since her partner is taking care of her financially and supporting her sponsorship 

Career: I feel like this is a good moment for her. There’s recognition for her when it comes to her career and her talent. Gaeul will be able to create something stable and successful for herself if she is smart enough to move her cards along 

Self: she is happy, without a care of the world. Gaeul is enjoying her life, enjoying this positive moment she is experiencing in life. 

Rei

Love: she is still single and Rei is still recovering from her last relationship that ended during summer 2023. I recall all, that her relationship was very unhealthy and at the moment she needs to heal her heart and take tome for herself 

Career: positive and good omens for her. Just like Gaeul, Rei as the right people behind her to help her get more spotlight for her career. I feel like she will get better as an artists but that her visuals will equally improve 

Self: she is investing a lot of money in her career (everything she has that dent go to her trainee debts is put on something else to help her grow in her career)

Wonyoung

Love: Wonyoung is back at being single, but not out of choice. Her sponsor asked her to break up and she had no choice but to do so. This is upsetting to her because she had feelings for the person but she does put her career first 

Career: she is struggling a lot with her relationship with one of the members. Wonyoung has been trying to talk to that member and solve things but they have way too many communications issues between the two. She feels also disconnected to the other members and she is scared that it will affect her image 

Self: I believe that Wonyoung is dealing with poor mental health at the moment,  I see some depressive episodes here and her being consumed and overwhelmed by feelings easily 

Liz

Love: her relationship is taking an unhealthy turn, since her partner has reveled themselves to be quite impulsive and ruthless. They have big expectations for Liz and she is unable to meet them 

Career: she is quite lost. She loves her job but as time goes, the more she loses hope about her career. She feels like it doesnt matter what she does, the company doesnt give her enough and that she always has to give to other members instead 

Self: she doesnt know what to do with her life. She has many opportunities but at the moment she is way too confuse to make any decision for herself.

Leeseo

Love: she is single. Around in September she ws talking/flirting with someone but that person has betrayed her by leaking some personal info n her to other people so she blocked them and stopped having any compact with that person 

Career: she is very possessive with what she has on her career and she doesnt want to open her wand to give to other members even if they ask for it. Leeseo has been a little impulsive and a little bit hasty which could generate some arguments between members 

Self: overall she is kay. Leeseo is working on herself as an image and as an idol. That is all she cares about at the moment and where all her energy goes to 

[aleksanderscult]

Analyzing "Demon in the Wood" (book) - Part 1

(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5)

Apparently you seemed to really want this (and so did I 😏) so here is the first part of me analyzing one of the best and, simultaneously, most heartbreaking books in the Grishaverse.

I'll analyze the Graphic Novel after I finish with the book.

(Warning ⚠️: get the tissues)

This book got depressing from the first page.

It's really sad that Eryk (I'm going to call him Eryk in this meta) already knows that neither otkazat'sya nor Grisha will ever accept them. They are unnatural even to the Grisha. Something to be feared and held in a distance. They have powers themselves, they are Grisha. But their rarity makes them both prized and frightening. They cannot truly belong even with their own people.

He already feels like an outcast at his thirteen. And it makes him bitter, sad and lonely.

That kid has been physically and emotionally ruined. Remember, that all these injuries are a result of him trying to make friends.

What....

If I were him, I would have three panic attacks, two breakdowns, six outbursts of tears and screams and then I would be knocked out for a week. ☠️

And that boy managed to lie convincingly after an attempted murder against him. He's a natural.

A result of him lying his whole life about:

1) his name

2) his parentage

2) where he came from

4) and all the other things I can't remember now

He has been lying his whole life so much that it comes out naturally to him.

Imagine how frightened he was from that attack to scream and yell so much to the point that his voice was almost gone.

(THIS BOOK IS AN EMOTIONAL WRECKAGE WHY THE FUCK DID I HAVE THE IDEA TO DO THIS--)

It's so sweet how he calls her "Madraya" 🥺 (for those who don't know, it means "mom", "mommy"😭)

It's also sad (the word "sad" is going to be used 29383 times for this meta) how he doesn't allow himself to feel vulnerable and affectionate with his mother like the little boy he is. He wants to. But can't. Baghra keeps telling him how tough he must be (fuck that honestly 😒). But even ourselves feel the need to seek the comfort of our mother or father sometimes. For them to hug us and tell us it's alright. And Eryk feels that too but can't express it and just represses it. 😔

HE ONLY WANTED TO PLAY

To play with his new friend, become carefree and have fun. To know how these feelings feel like for once. To become the child he is and go on an adventure!

But that joy was taken from him.

Now he feels ashamed. What will his mother think of him? A foolish child that went off to play. That's not what she taught him at all. He gave in to his boyish desires and he feels embarrassed for it. No child should feel like that honestly. 😔

As much as I don't like Baghra exactly, this is badass. That look must have been deadly af.

JUST HUG THAT POOR BABY FOR GOD'S SAKE OR I WILL!!

Seriously, I know Baghra had a difficult life and all. But would it hurt you if you hugged him just once??

I bet that lack of physical affection had affected him to the point that he MUST had been touch starved. It's no wonder he kept touching Alina whenever he could. The name reveal scene comes to mind now. When he took her hands and guided them around his waist. He's craving love.🥲

Ah, yes, he also has daddy issues.

He never met his father and his mother refused to even speak of him. Heck, he probably never even had a father figure in his life. And it's not like Baghra said "He was a good man" and all. She talked about him as a meaningless mortal figure that is beneath him. Just a person that is only dust. Not his father.

(Baghra, I'm in your walls for traumatizing our boy🔪)

Can you imagine how many times they had to do that? Him practicing his new name, his new lines every month like a parrot that imitates words? Not only did he not have a home but also people to connect with and a name (his true name) for everyone to know. His whole life he was hiding his true self.

Anyway, that's all Tumblr allows me to write for now. We will continue in part 2, babes 💛

[bullsh1tterz]

@downs1de : : REPLIED.

i want to hear about his childhood

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 #𝟒: 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌'𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃.

Do bear in mind that any and all of what I say here is my own thoughts on what my Adam's childhood was like. The source material doesn't cover much besides the fact that he's got a brother - at least as far as I'm aware. These are scattered and randomized bullet points detailing aspects of that childhood. Not all of them relate to each other.

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: Abandonment, child neglect, gambling && child abuse.

Adam doesn't remember much of his mother. She left when he was four, never looked back and he never saw significance in seeking her out. Still, he's managed to carry the abandonment issues she's given him into adulthood.

Plenty of his anger comes from disappointment after disappointment in his father. The man was never home. And it's not like he was some workaholic rich bitch so they'd at least be well-off, no. He was just never interested in taking care of him or his brother. He was often out drinking, betting on the horses or trying to hit on women who weren't interested in him.

Adam's childhood was, for all intents and purposes, empty. His older brother, Benjamin, was his primary care-taker, but it's not like a teenager's a good enough substitute for a parental figure. Especially one who'd have clearly rathered they be with their mother, often gushing to Adam about what she was like and telling him how the only thing their dad loves is his work. Benjamin was generally less nosy and observant than Adam, who figured out their father's constant claims to have been working late were nothing short of bogus when he got too suspicious and followed him around.

He was especially good at playing hide and seek. He knew where to hide whenever specific people were the seekers and often found it easy to track his friends down.

He was lower middle-class for the first half of his childhood and slowly devolved to the lower class the more his father splurged on nonsense.

Adam wasn't the worst at making friends, but he wasn't the best, either. He still had that tongue of his when he was younger, granted everything coming out of it was less crude at the time. He was open and honest but that very honesty cost him many a dramatically-inclined friendship. He never quite gave up on meeting new people until well into his senior year, though.

Adam wasn't great at school, but he wasn't completely terrible either. He didn't know jack about mathematics and found literature pretentious due to his teachers, but art, physical education and history were some of his favorite classes. He especially enjoyed working on projects and little "research papers" for school.

The biggest stifle - or more like the most traumatizing aspect - of Adam's childhood was his grandfather, who didn't take to Adam's more rebellious nature. Unlike his Father, Adam's grandfather was not neglectful: he was outright abusive. Whenever his father would drop him off at his place, Adam would do his best not to interact with the man or to cater to his temper. Still, old, repressed and clearly terrible-natured, Adam's grandfather would find something - anything - to be mad at him or Benjamin for and then proceed to "discipline" them. Benjamin did not get off scott-free, but, being older, he did not have to go to their grandfather's house as much as Adam would. Adam does not like talking about this for obvious reasons, and has since suppressed any and all of his feelings regarding his grandfather - as opposed to his father, whom he'll happily curse out and talk shit about if asked by someone he trusts.

Benjamin, even though taking care of Adam often in the sense that he fed him and taught him how to do most things, always kept a certain distance between him and his younger brother. Adam resembled their mother more - even used to speak a little in her cadence, so Benjamin didn't like the reminder and often felt jealous. Adam didn't understand that jealousy because all he felt towards his mother as he grew was resentment, but he often ventured to soothe Benjamin by flattering him.

[karatekels]

TIGmas Day #3 – Clear As Mud

Hello and happy third day of TIGmas, everyone – and sorry I’m late! Today’s story is dedicated to @senka-mesecine (aka @terrence-silver), whose stories are always among my favourites! This is actually an idea that I initially wanted to explore during Dark Desires October that I couldn’t get to in time. I’ll admit that the idea was heavily inspired by senka’s deliciously dark writing, so when she asked for this to be her TIGmas story I was over the moon! I hope you this story was worth the wait!

All that being said, this story is very dark and in no way full of Christmas cheer.

Summary: You’ve tried to get Terry to open up about his time in Vietnam on more than one occasion, and while he’s been doing his best to help you understand, he ultimately decides that the best way to help you is to put you through something similar, hunting you in the middle of a forest at sunset.

TW: Discussions of PTSD, stalking (more like hunting), horror, rough sex, graphic sex, outdoor sex, dubcon/(consensual) non-consent (it’s really hard to tell how much say anyone has when it comes to being involved with Terry Silver, after all – regardless, it’s not something I condone irl)

Note: Sections in italics are flashbacks to previous conversations about the war.

---

Clear as Mud

---

This was hell.

“War is hell,” he had told you countless times before – he’d made use of the cliched saying on numerous occasions, but it had always rung hollow, an expression rendered meaningless from general overuse.

But now, trudging through the thick, muddy woods surrounding Terry’s chateau in the mountains in the hot, humid night, you think you’re beginning to understand that the saying was in no way hyperbole.

“How many times do we have to have this discussion, Y/N!? I told you, I don’t want to have this conversation,” Terry had growled, his body visibly thrumming with tension as he tried to keep himself under control. You give him a pitying expression, your heart going out to him, but you’re resolute in your pursuit to get him to talk about his trauma.

“Vietnam was such a significant time in your life, Terry. I know you’ve got a lot of repressed to protect yourself, but if you’re not willing to see a therapist about it, you have to at least try to let me in,” you beg, trying to deescalate and keep him calm, reaching for his hand. He moves out of your reach in a quick, jarring movement, his eyes wild and angry, and you try not to let it upset you too much.

“It’s okay, Terry. I’m not upset, and I’m not scared of you. I know that you’ve killed people, a–”

Terry interrupts you with a guttural noise, pushing you against the wall roughly. You stay perfectly still.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, baby girl. You don’t know,” he murmurs quietly, pressing his body tightly against yours, overwhelming your senses. “We didn’t ‘kill people’; we eliminated obstacles,” he says flatly, stroking your hair absent-mindedly while he glares at something off in some imagined distance.

“Some with weapons pointed at you, many without. Men, women, children, we tried not to pay that much attention. It’s when you see them as people that you start to think, so we were trained to use our trigger fingers, not our brains.”

Despite being sandwiched between the wall and Terry’s chest, your body still finds a way to tremble with fear, though you try to suppress it.

“War is hell, Y/N,” he says, smiling sardonically at the cliché, his grip on your hip and your throat tightening; you don’t even remember him starting to choke you, but you find the edges of your vision getting blurry. “Not because you’re being shot at constantly, watching your brothers die, losing your will to live, but because you find yourself doing the same thing right back to somebody else.”

Terry reaches between your bodies to his belt, and you feel yourself tense minutely, knowing he would notice. He always needed to fuck you after talking about the War; he said that you helped him forget, even though what you desperately wanted was for him to remember, to work through it, to ease his conscience.

Sure enough, he’s got you slid up the wall, your legs around him as he fucks you deep and rough like he’s trying to crawl into your body. You do your best to hold on, every noise that passes your lips indistinguishable as either a moan or a whimper, Terry whispering nonsense into your hair as he chases after his orgasm like a man possessed.

“Makes you wonder if you’re the damned or the Devil,” he pants in your ear, licking up the single tear that trails down your cheek.

A branch snaps somewhere close by and you attempt to stifle the cry of pure, primal fear that bursts forth from your lips. Your body aches from the tension of holding still, freezing as every part of you strains to hear him, to see any hint of movement through the thick foliage.

He had proposed to you three nights ago, the heavy ring now safely on your bedside table – he’d suggestedthat you remove it during tonight’s… activities. Terry has always been mercurial, but this sudden turn from lavishing you with extravagant gifts and his love as you celebrated your engagement to outright hunting you through the forest for sport is demented, not to mention terrifying.

You aren’t sure what his goal is, what the end point will be, how you’ll know that it’s finally over. Does he mean to hunt you forever?

Can you even be considered ‘prey’ if you’ve willingly walked into the trap he set for you, and continue to stay in with full awareness and knowledge?

The sun continues to set, bathing the woods in bloodred light.

“You could be hiding in the muck, in a hole in the ground blown open by landmines for hours, days even,” Terry had told you, his gaze hardening as he looked off into nothing. “You’re scared to breathe, scared to feel sunlight on your skin – it leaves you exposed. Then you watch your friends get picked off like flies, bullets in their brains or landmines turning them into mulch.”

You try to force yourself to breathe slowly, deeply, regularly, but quietly; Terry would pick up on the slightest hint of noise on the wind. The small part of you that wants to just stand out in the open and let him find you – to end this – is drowned out by the thudding of your own heartbeat in your ears. You know there’s no reasoning with him; you can’t even reason with yourself.

You hear a piercing whistle from Terry’s lips, a chilling tune that echoes through the mountains that make your hair stands on end; at least, the hair not plastered to your skin by the thick mud smattered across your body. Unable to help yourself, you flee from your hiding spot, aimlessly sprinting, your sense of direction narrowing to just away.

“Fear keeps you alert, keeps you sharp. Keeps you alive.”

You hear his pounding footsteps coming after you, crunching leaves and twigs underfoot. You know how silently he can move; he’s stomping around just to scare you.

It’s working.

Your shirt snags, caught on another branch, and this time you just tear it off, leaving the tattered scrap of fabric behind you, dangling like a flag at half-mast. Your torso now bare, the cuts from your previous run-ins with the foliage are exposed to the air, stinging faintly. You wonder if he can taste your blood in the air, like a shark; it wouldn’t surprise you at this point. Nothing could.

“They were chameleons, blending into the jungle to lie in wait. We couldn’t see ‘em even five feet in front of us, sometimes. I learned to be a ghost, but in the end it still wasn’t enough – none of it mattered. Except I had John.”

You wonder if John had ever stalked his significant other – or anyone, for that matter – through the forest for his own amusement. Somehow, you doubted it. And while you’d always had a healthy dose of fear for the only man who could keep Terry Silver in line, at this moment you wish more than anything that it was Kreese hunting you instead. At least he could be reasoned with.

As if to prove your point, Terry lets out a maniacal cackle that scares off the remaining birds, and you dive behind a fallen log, pressing yourself against it in the hopes of avoiding detection. The thick mud is chilly on your bare skin yet you find you want to burrow deeper into the puddle to conceal yourself, and would if the noise wouldn’t attract his attention.

Terry enters your line of sight, so silently you wouldn’t have known he was there unless you were looking right at him, and you narrow your eyes into slits, not wanting so much as a glimmer of light reflecting off of them to give you away. Watching the fluid, controlled way that his massive body moves through the trees as he hunts you, you’re reminded of the xenomorph; something so big shouldn’t be able to move so smoothly, so silently.

He finally moves out of your field of view, but you wait a good minute or two before daring to breathe normally. You shakily get to your feet, looking around you for Terry and for any indication of which way the house is; you’re completely disoriented on the side of this godforsaken mountain. You have to squint due to the fading sunlight, and that’s when you see him, calmly surveying you from the distance while leaned up against a tree, his mouth twisted into a smile. Despite the low light, his eyes seem to glint at you from across the clearing.

“T-Terry!” you exclaim, your voice an octave higher than normal. He makes no move towards you or to answer your question, his head still cocked to the side as he observes you with interest.

“Terry, please stop this!” you beg, your arms wrapped around yourself. He chuckles quietly in response, the low sound creeping across the space between you and sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, doll, that’s not how this works!” he tells you with a cold laugh. “There is no surrender.”

“What do you want from me, Terry?!” you exclaim, your voice hoarse with fear. “I just want this to be over!”

“It’ll be over when there’s only one man left standing,” he explains patiently, as though it was obvious. “When there’s a winner and a loser and the spoils of war are taken.”

You have no idea what that means, but you’re certain it’s nothing good.

“You either hunt or you are the hunted, Y/N,” he leers at you, finally moving to crouch into a runner’s stance that has you immediately stumbling back and away from him. “Get back to the house and I may show you some mercy.”

You cling to the likely empty promise like a lifeline, turning away and sprinting as fast as you can. You’re not even sure if you’re running in the right direction; he could be herding you somewhere else. Still, you have no choice but to keep moving forward, sensing him rapidly closing the distance between you.

But in the end, it doesn’t matter. You step down and feel something tighten around your ankle, the snare trap set off and lifting you into the air with a sickening crack of your ankle that has you screaming out in pain. Terry stops running, leisurely walking up to your dangling form and howling in victory; the hunt is over.

“I was so hoping you would run into one of these,” he confesses breathlessly, eyes bright as he takes you in, crouching down to be closer to your eye level. “You know what it does to me to see you helpless, Y/N,” he adds with a feral expression, his tone suggesting that you were intentionally tempting him.

“Terry, please!” you whimper up at him, tears blurring your vision as they slide around your eyes to drip off of your forehead and onto the forest floor. “I think my ankle is broken!”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says dismissively, but you do believe him. “For now, let me take you in.”

You do your best to ignore the pain and keep quiet as you hang by one leg, your body rotating slowly like it knew that Terry wanted to stare at you. As you slowly swing back around to face him again, you see he has pulled out his cock, pumping his shaft with a gloved hand. Seeing you watching, he closes the distance between you, reaching up above your ankle to steady the rope and keep you from spinning.

“Open,” he demands with a firm tap to your cheek, his hips level with your face. You suspect he had measured it out in advance for the express purpose of having you blow him while caught in a boobytrap.

“Terry, it hurts!” you manage to get out before he’s thrust himself inside your mouth. You reflexively stop trying to speak and relax your throat; he has trained you well.

“Spoils of war, doll. Gonna need you to earn your freedom,” he jokes, thrusting himself fully into you until you’re choking around his cock before releasing you, allowing you to catch your breath for a brief moment. “Now suck.”

You obey, just trying to focus on getting free before all the blood rushes to your head, the forest silent save for the lewd, wet noises coming from your mouth around his dick and Terry’s occasional grunt of pleasure.

“It’s not the same, you know,” he murmurs quietly after a prolonged silence. “You’ll never understand what it was like being there, no matter how many times I try to tell you, try to show you.”

So that’s what this was all about, you realize with equal parts pity and dread. He had grown weary of trying to explain his time during the War to you, and was trying to show you instead.

Christ, he was fucked up.

Somehow, in spite of everything, it only strengthens your resolve to help him.

“You’ll never know what it’s like, to be faced with someone and not know if they’re with you or against you, and only having a fucking second to decide!” he snarls while fucking your face, his large hands holding your body steady, fingernails digging in past the mud and into your flesh.

Next thing you know, he’s lifting your body up, cradling you against his chest, one hand reaching up and yanking the trap free from the branch in one sharp pull, lowering you both to the ground and crawling on top of you.

“But you don’t need to know it, baby,” he continues, though you’re unsure how much he’s really talking to you at this point. His hands tear at your pants, pushing them and your underwear down to your knees, pointedly not exacerbating your ankle. He wasn’t completely out of his mind, then. Why couldn’t he just talk about his issues? This perverse simulation is just creating issues of your own.

“You don’t need to know it,” he repeats, looking down at you, muddy and scratched and hurting, like you were his salvation. He pushes your knees to either side, working his length inside of you and pushing you further into the ground. You feel tree roots press into your back, bound to give you bruises.

“I’m gonna keep you from all of that shit; gonna keep you safe, babygirl,” he pants, breath hot against your neck as he ruts into you. You find yourself clinging to him desperately, nails digging into his broad shoulders as you cry out into the night – for yourself, for him, for your pleasure.

“You’re my saving grace, baby, my own little Lady Liberty,” he coos, baring his teeth all the while. “Flip over for me.”

You roll onto your belly, gritting your teeth against the pain radiating from your ankle as you do so, and push your ass up towards him. Terry is immediately on you again, his arms bracing himself on either side of you as he presses against you, fucking you into the mud with an animalistic growl.

“You save me just how you are, just like this,” he hisses, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust that has you groaning into the soft earth against your lips. “And you’re gonna stay just like this, sweet and warm and mine, my little haven, my little sweet spot, isn’t that right baby?”

“YES!” you howl, throwing your head back as you dig your nails into the dirt, bracing yourself as he pounds into you. “Let it out, let me take it for you!”

Your words seem to make Terry snap; he pushes your face down into the mud, hips hammering against yours hard and fast and deep until he’s coming hard inside you with a guttural snarl.

Fisting your hair, he pulls your head up and turns it to the side to let you breathe, even as he collapses on top of you. You gasp for breath, trying to wipe the mud off of your face, but it’s hopeless and you give up after a moment, stroking Terry’s arm where it’s wrapped around you.

Eventually Terry sits up, tucking himself back into his pants, somehow still barely muddy, and looks around the forest floor. He finds a thick branch, snapping it into pieces, and sets about making a splint for your ankle, not saying a word. You observe him quietly, the odd wince escaping you as he secures the splint to your foot. Satisfied with his work for the time being, he shrugs off his jacket, wrapping your naked body with it to get you warm before lifting you into his arms, mindful of your injured leg.

“Thank you,” you offer quietly, looking down at your foot instead of up at him as he carries you back home. You’re nearly embarrassed at how close you were this whole time. Terry adjusts you, his gaze never faltering as he moves you to look him in the eye.

“Thank you, my love,” he returns with a sly grin. “For helping me talk things out,” he clarifies, letting out a laugh at his twisted euphemism.

You don’t see the humour in the situation, but won’t be pushing him to open up about the War again for the foreseeable future.

---

This is far and away the darkest thing you can expect from me this month, I promise! That said, I can’t say I’d mind something in this vein as a Christmas present… 🥵

[chairteeth]

“Touka, Nemu, and the White Walls”

*deep breath* Hear Me Out. I’m sure you are by now familiar with my screaming of aaaaa the word soulmate was made for them (whether platonic or romantic is up to you), when it comes to Touka and Nemu. However! I must now try to articulate, based on the limited information available to us, exactly what happened during the early stages of Touka and Nemu’s relationship and how their bond developed. I will not touch on Ui too much though (there is another essay for that). So, informal essay under the cut!

Touka and Nemu have been bound together since the hospital, because they found in each other what they’d been craving for so long: an equal. They are each other’s equals in ways Ui just can’t manage, even back then. After a baptism by fire in every way, their bond only strengthened until it got to where it is today. But, I want to take a look at the roots of this connection. Before the Wings of the Magius. Before Kyubey.

First things first: these girls do not trust adults. They don’t fear them, mind you. But they also don’t trust them. This is a trait Alina shares with them, and a trait many child prodigies come to share. They’re cynical because of their trauma, but also wary of how they are exploited and condescended. They have learned not to trust adults specifically because of their alien treatment, and that extends to children slowly during their time at the hospital. They’re misunderstood, sometimes ridiculed, isolated without choice. They decide to own that isolation, because it can’t hurt them if they own it, but it gets to them.

Touka takes it as a challenge, wants to prove she isn’t weak, and thus acts superior. Nemu tries to brush past it, and falls into spirals of patterns and thought processes when she tries to figure out if there’s something wrong with her (beyond her being different), considering the way the others act. And they both cope via the amazingly healthy method we call repression. We see glimpses of this throughout, for instance in TouNemu’s Christmas MGS. Even when they’re mad at each other and Ui isn’t involved, Touka still ultimately sits next to Nemu, talks to her, and goes as far as to request an answer (which Nemu who is not in the greatest mood and it’s her fault has not given, she has been quiet the entire time). It’s interesting to note about that MGS that from that point on, every “sorry” and “thank you” has come easy to them, when they’ve had to use the words. You will notice that Touka in particular easily apologizes to and thanks Nemu, but doesn’t really say it to anyone else most of the time (examples are in her own MGS when she’s ranting at Nemu on their way I assume home from Fendt Hope while they’re alone together and she apologizes for being angry, that whole scene is going to be analyzed at a later date. Another specific example is in Arc 2, when Touka asks Nemu to fetch something for her while they’re trying to unlock Ryo’s phone, then apologizes when Nemu gets back because she didn’t need it after all.)

They’re drawn to each other initially because they’re finally understood. They’re not turned away, but argued with as equals, listened to, not placated but confronted instead. They're giving each other what they’ve so desperately craved from the beginning. And there’s a beatific solace to knowing there is nothing wrong with you, and even if there is, fuck it all because you’re not the only one that’s wrong. Because you’re not alone anymore.

This specifically ties into Nemu even more because Nemu is painfully starved for affection. For meaningful connection. For home. For, as Shizuku may put it, a place to belong. Touka has her father, and while he can’t exactly understand Touka the way Nemu can, I’m sure Nemu has been jealous/bitter at some point due to Touka having a loving, affectionate parental figure. Her personal memoria is very on the nose about what she wants most, as is her MGS, but especially the personal memoria. To quote it directly: “What was I hoping for? What did I want? A newly released novel? An out-of-print book that sounded interesting? New clothes for a change of image? No, no, no. Those are all wrong. I just want to be told I’m loved. It’s so close and yet so far. That is all I want.”

The tie to Touka here is a little different. She did not have very many options. I’m sure that deep down, Touka is aware of what would have happened to her if she hadn’t found Nemu in time. Lost to madness when her masks begin to crack, her life falling apart, becoming one with her masks to the point she loses sight of who she started out as… Rotting inside the mask. Though in her case, she’s well-off enough that she could plausibly just be a hermit. For a time. Until the loneliness began to eat away at her. Touka’s main connection before Nemu (and before Ui) was her father, and her father is a good man, he tries to be there for her and actually be a parent despite his busy schedule (looking at you, Hiiragi family. If the Tamaki parents can spare a few minutes to video call their hospitalized child, you can too), but she doesn’t guard him like she guards her astronomy knowledge, she doesn’t guard him like she guards Nemu.

Look, it’s subtler in the hospital era than it is later down the line, but. These two are so ridiculously devoted to each other that it makes me completely unhinged. They act as one, without doubt, without fear (you don’t just agree to die with someone you don’t feel strongly about and bind your own life to, but I will scream about that in the post-Arc 1 essay). This started all the way back in the hospital. Though, there’s multiple things I have yet to address… The resentment has its own essay, but let’s talk about anger for a moment.

Touka is the one more known for her anger. For both of them, there’s different kinds of anger they hold. Touka is just easier to talk about. Most of her anger is toward society and the people around her (no one in particular, just People™, the people that get to be “normal” and have things), and anger at Nemu’s family. The reason that last thing is an entire category is because it shapes her relationship with Nemu. Touka cares more about Nemu than Nemu does about herself, and the anger towards her family is a key point in their relationship and how she treats Nemu—it’s one of the things that make her protective of Nemu. That anger in turn fuels her anger towards society as well. She expressed in the third episode of her MGS how she feels like the world has done nothing but take things away from her for her entire life, therefore she shouldn’t have to share, shouldn’t have to give the world anything (she has grown from this and I will talk about it in my Arc 2 essays). And yet, most of Touka’s anger, especially towards society, is subconscious. I don’t think she learns to recognize and articulate it until a lot later in life, at least. And where her anger is a fiery pit… Nemu’s is resigned and flickering embers.

Nemu has taken so much hurt that the part of her that defends her is barely holding on. She is starkly aware and somewhat articulate about why she has resentment and anger towards society, but she doesn’t seem to hold much of it towards her family. I’d say she much more wishes she knew them enough to be angry at them. She’s just tired. She’s used to it, it’s “fine” and not their fault. Nemu also feels like she has a muted anger bubbling underneath her skin, toward herself. Maybe cursing her illness that prevented her from being part of her family. Maybe because she takes on blame and guilt to relieve others, it becomes second nature, and she hates part of herself for it. Her anger still tries to defend her, but enough repression and it kind of shuts up. It’s emotionally draining. Nemu has this tendency to overthink stuff a lot more than Touka, she’s more introspective and philosophical about everything. That is both good and bad, because while reflecting on events is a good thing, the conclusions a child like her may take from it may not be. Her one respite that makes her feel understood and alive? Touka.

Now, I know I have tunnel vision, and I know that my otp blinds makes me fixate on specifically these two, but I do have to talk about Ui and Iroha a little more. Mainly Ui. Their connections are different. Iroha and Ui represent secure attachments. People that, although they know they can’t match or understand them, will be there for them. Constant exposure to Ui in particular was important in mitigating that anger towards others, and it was good for the other two’s self-worth and sense of self. As we have seen many times, especially at first, this manifested in them essentially resource guarding like dogs who have been starving in the streets their entire lives and finally get to have food. That was, until they realized two things. One was that they could share. Another was that there was meaningful connection to be found in each other too, and that Ui was not their only definitive source of kindness and comfort. Touka specifically has a thing about being kind. As per her flower field memoria: “The end of the universe brings the dark and vast eternal world of time to my tiny little cramped world. The end of the universe also creates the flow of time. I don't care if my brain cells overheat, I want to know everything. I will cherish what I learn, and it will make me a kinder person.”

Touka wants to be kind. Ui, and by extension Iroha, preach by practice. They don’t scold her and tell her to just be nicer (well, usually). They are genuinely kind people, and Touka looks up to that. She and Nemu both do, though with Touka it’s a lot more blatant because it’s often harder for her to be kind—I interpret Touka as naturally having low empathy, which is not a bad thing or a thing to be pitied, but instead something that can become a strength. Unfortunately, it can also result in severe struggles, socially speaking, and Touka isn’t in the best position to have those, because people’s reactions to her just make her feel more alienated (which, again, she tries to take pride in as a defense mechanism) and more justified in her anger and resentment. Still, Touka is trying. The erasure of Iroha and Ui from her memories, and the fact that she had Nemu, made her close off into this mentality of “it’ll be okay as long as we have each other, everyone else can rot.” In a way, at least. Deep down, though, Touka still wants to be good. Wants to save magical girls. Because she sees herself in magical girls and their struggles. Magical girls are isolated, alienated from society by their very nature. Just like her. And it’s unfair that their struggles are not seen or heard, never recognized. They are never given a helping hand. On top of that, they live on a timer. Just like her back in the hospital.

Nemu wants to rest. To let down her guard and not be hurt, for once. She wants a home, somewhere or someone who will make her a priority. She has never been a priority. To anyone. That’s why it’s upsetting to her at first, who should be the calmer one, when Ui “chooses Touka over her” or otherwise elects to do something else that has nothing to do with her. She takes it personally. Nonetheless, she sees the way Iroha and Ui act, and she wishes she could be like them. Nemu thinks her feelings are ugly, something to be hidden away, and has gotten used to bottling them up, coping through writing and hopefully through nothing else. Touka becomes a sort of shelter. Someone so very similar to her, despite their differences. Someone who also hides their feelings. Both of them say at the end of Christmas String that they admire Ui because they can’t copy her, can’t copy the way she’s always happy to help others, but that is a direct contradiction of their own actions in that very event. I won’t expand on it here, but Nemu might be more aware than Touka about some of these issues. Nemu actively expresses her feelings about magical girls as a group in her MGS, and it’s not all that dissimilar from Touka’s own reasoning for wanting to save them. She wants magical girls to be recognized, she wants people to know them. Sounds awfully similar to herself wanting to be known, doesn’t it?

Lastly, I want to look at something that should’ve been The First Sign and ties into certain points I made about Touka in another essay (“The Many Masks of Touka Satomi”). Nemu’s writing. Touka starts out downright loathing it, though I assume this must’ve been mostly the product of jealousy (over Ui) at the time. By the time we get to the hospital episode of Nemu’s MGS, however, Touka has made and manages a website for Nemu, including contact information. Let me break that down for you. Nemu would never ask Touka to do something like this, and judging by her reaction to the part we see, she really did not. Which means Touka, of her own will, brought it up and offered to do it. Why? Why, especially in the hospital era? This is one of many instances where the game simply drops a piece of information like an anvil on my foot and refuses to elaborate, thus leaving me to froth at the mouth until I manage to articulate my thoughts. Allow me to go on a giant website tangent and give you an overview of the sheer work Touka just, did for Nemu of her own volition and then continued to do from that point on (warning, this is going to end in me gushing about how much these two care about each other):

First, the planning and conceptualization stage, which is arguably the easiest and I assume was just a bunch of lengthy conversations between Touka and Nemu. They’re excellent at planning things together, as we have seen multiple times in the story, so planning the content structure and layout would have also been simple. Then there’s domain name and hosting. Touka would’ve had to choose and register a domain name, then either select a reliable web hosting service to store the website files or somehow do it herself (it’s Touka, she will find a way). Next up, website design and development, which is arguably also “simple” in the sense that “all you have to do” is design the website’s layout, color scheme, and overall aesthetics. Who knows how these two did that.

The development part was on Touka entirely, since that’s where you have to use HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and potentially a content management system but I’m not sure how exactly Touka would go about it (if she makes something she will make something she can brag about and be proud of). Of course this is also the phase where you integrate necessary features like a contact form or whatever Touka did to put Nemu’s email there (that she is apparently also in charge of, since she was able to check the emails and I doubt Nemu wants to deal with that, though she was upset that Touka added this without consulting her for a moment, which is an interesting decision). Content creation would then fall to Nemu, though she writes by hand so Touka would have to digitize every single page. And! Search engine optimization! This includes keyword research, on-page SEO, and setting up meta tags. This is a job that in real life that can be extremely lucrative.

It’s not over because we also happen to know that Nemu makes “more than enough” from ad revenue alone on that website. So that means Touka set up ad revenue streams for this and took care of the monetization aspect which may have included a couple of illegalities (because they’re minors). After that would be thoroughly testing the website’s functionality, including navigation, forms, and any interactive elements, then the launch itself, which is uploading the website files to the hosting server and configuring domain settings to point to the hosting server. This doesn’t take into account whatever marketing/promotion Touka did to get the word out so quickly and successfully that the numbers would climb the way they did in the scene we saw. 

BUT IT DOESN’T END THERE. A website requires regular maintenance, and Touka would’ve also had to implement security measures to protect against threats like hacking or malware and regularly back up the website to prevent data loss. I think she probably mostly ignored legal considerations because this is Touka we’re talking about, but she also set up analytics tools to track visitor behavior and website performance, that’s what I assume we were seeing in that one scene. Touka “we’re not friends” Satomi, everybody.

WHICH BRINGS. ME. TO. Touka apparently just, manually transcribes the handwritten manuscripts herself. And not only does she not get annoyed, angry, or tired over any of this, she gets worried that Nemu might find it a pain to double check that Touka read her handwriting correctly. Once the initial transcription is done (which you can imagine takes quite a bit of time and dedication), it’s time to proofread and compare it to the original manuscript, make corrections and adjustments as needed, then apply structural markup to the digital text (this means adding tags to indicate elements like headings, paragraphs, annotations, and more), and create a detailed record of metadata for each manuscript. This is kinda tied to the website but also, accessibility considerations. Touka with all of her medical knowledge and living in a hospital her whole life would be familiar with this, but it’s still more work. I also figure she took care of the copyright part for Nemu.

Okay, okay, I’m done now, I promise. But. AAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Touka knows how much writing means to Nemu and look at what she does for her! I was going to explode if I didn’t draw attention to this piece of info that is so easy to brush off. In total, the initial work for this could range from approximately 220 to 355+ hours. I will have to just go before I get even more unhinged about them. Next essay will take a while longer to come out, since I do have other stuff to write. Nishi out!

[misswhyso]

He’s tall. Beautiful, in a sort of detached way: dark hair falling past his eyes, sharp cheekbones, golden skin glowing under the sun. And there’s just something about him that’s so visibly unsettling; Steve has to squint to focus on him, lest his sight goes blurry around the edges.

“Eleven,” the man says. His voice is low, a rumbling comfort. “You probably don’t remember me.”

“I don’t,” she agrees readily. 

The man takes a step closer, and Steve represses a shiver. “My name is Sebastian,” he says, “but Papa called me Five.”

El stills. So does Steve, and Jonathan, and everyone else in the room—the air goes numb, falling onto the ground with an almost audible thump.

Holy shit, Robin mouths to him.

Which, yeah. Holy shit. The past week has been a whole new kind of hell: the Upside-Down coming back with vengeance, Eddie nearly torn to pieces, Max—Max. God, Steve can barely wrap his head around it. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees her—every time feels like the first time. How is Steve supposed to live with Max’s unexistence?

And now this guy comes out of nowhere, after the fight of their lives, to reveal himself as fucking Five. It’s almost too coincidental. It feels, and Steve knows he’s not alone in thinking this, like a trap.

“Prove it.”

Sebastian (Five?) raises an eyebrow. “Prove it?”

El nods. “Yes,” she says. “Prove that you’re like me.”

Sebastian opens his mouth, then closes it. “Hm.”

“What, so you can’t do it?” Dustin asks. Steve has to curl his fingers into a fist to resist slapping the back of Dustin’s head. Jesus, the kid is way too cocky. One day it’s going to get him killed, but for now—

For now, Sebastian simply smiles. He glances at the hospital door, then at Steve, a familiar glint in his eyes—warm, amused, like they’re both in on the joke. But Steve is not laughing. Should Steve be laughing?

“I don’t know if it’s a smart idea,” Sebastian says. “I want you to be on my side, you see.”

“If you want to be on our side, we need to know what you can do,” Mike says evenly. He positions himself in front of El and Will. After a pause, he adds, “Or what you can’t.”

Yeah, Steve really needs to have a talk with the kids about self-preservation.

“Alright.” Sebastian straightens up, cracks his knuckles. He smiles, sharp this time, something in his gaze darkening. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

“Why would I—”

“Sit,” Sebastian says. 

Mike sits.

“Stand.”

Mike stumbles back to his feet.

“Do a jumping jack.”

And Mike jumps.

Sebastian places a hand on Mike’s shoulder, and the younger boy settles, eyes wide and face pale. “I’m persuasive,” he says. “That’s my thing.”

“What the fuck,” Mike says, taking a step back. His hands are shaking. Steve thinks his are too because what the fuck. He shares a look with Robin, Did you see that? She blinks back at him: Holy shit. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Told you not to freak out.”

“Okay,” Jonathan cuts in. His eyes are narrowed. “Okay, we believe you.”

“Persuasive?” El says, rolling the word around her tongue. “You didn’t get that from One.”

“Right,” Sebastian says. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Like the number,” Steve finds himself saying. It’s strange—something compels him to Sebastian; he wants the other man to look at him, to give him his full attention. And now he’s talking, and he’s got to figure out what he’s trying to say. “Like, you know, you’re Five? And he’s—uh, four people before you. And he’s kind of the source of power or something.”

Robin sends him a thumbs up, which means That’s right. He thinks. It’d be embarrassing to be wrong.

“One,” Sebastian repeats to himself. “But One doesn’t exist.”

El shakes her head. It’s a muted thing—the memory of El saying he’s dead flits through his mind—as she takes a deep breath and says, “Papa lied.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “That. And now he’s going to end the world, so. I guess it’s a good thing you’re here?”

Sebastian closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know, I kind of guessed the end of the world thing on my own.”

“Is that why you came?” Mike asks. He’s gotten over the shock, and is leaning forward in curiosity again. Steve doesn’t know how he does it, shake the unnatural off like he’s born clean and anew each time, and it digs at him a little—how much shit do these children have to be thrown into that they can just stand up again, dust their knees off and walk away?

Too much, is the answer. Even a little bit is too much.

“Well, yeah.” Sebastian runs his fingers through his hair. “Honestly, I thought something was happening with the lab.”

“Kind of,” Mike says. “Long story short, there’s a nightmare dimension that’s merging with our world now.”

“That…sounds like a long story, yeah.”

“Okay,” Robin says. She claps her hands together. “Okay, anyway, what this means is that now we have Eleven and Five, which is good, right? Like yay! Two against one. That’s, like, so much better for us.”

“Two,” Sebastian says.

“I’m pretty sure one plus one equals two,” Robin says.

Sebastian throws Steve another glance—which, what does that mean, even?—then nods. “Okay. And I’m going to—what? Tell him to stop?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dustin says, confident. “But for now, you can, I don’t know. Chill out.”

“Wait.”

Steve whirls around: Lucas, whose hand rests on Max’s, looks up at them with a determined look in his eyes. And it’s an immediate thing—he knows. He just knows. Because he’s watched Lucas grow up, taught him to play basketball, drove him to and from the hospital so he could be with Max. He knows what Lucas wants.

“Actually, there is something you can do.”

“Now?”

“Now,” Lucas says. He gives Max’s hand a squeeze, then stands up. “Can you ask her to wake up?”

Mike presses his lips together, and a pained expression crosses his face. An expression that, Steve guesses, is reflected on his own. There is something to be said about how tightly Lucas and Max hold onto each other, how Lucas comes by everyday, always hoping that one day she’ll open her eyes. 

This something pulsates between them; Sebastian must see it too, this terrible hope. He says, gently, “I can try. I can try, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”

“Okay,” Lucas says. “Try it.”

Steve shuffles to the side, giving Sebastian a clear path to the bed. He watches as Sebastian walks over, closes his eyes and presses his fingers to her forehead. Inhales deeply. “Wake up,” he commands.

Nothing happens.

And it’s only when nothing happens that Steve realizes he had been hoping for some miracle—that a part of him was waiting for it to work, for Max’s eyes flutter open. Steve digs his nails into his palm. Look: Max is as white as the sheets, her red hair the last vibrant thing about her. She looks—she looks dead.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says, and he sounds it.

Lucas presses his lips together, eyes wet, and shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. It was a gamble, anyway.”

They know, though, that it’s not fine. God, and it’ll never be fine again, will it? It hits Steve, all of a sudden, how hopeless everything seems. Even if they do kill Vecna, there’s no guarantee that Max will wake up again. That Eddie will wake up again. Max, who is young and bright and beautiful; Eddie, who is louder than life, a wildfire in his own right.

That’s not fair.

That’s not fucking fair.

“Listen,” Sebastian starts, then pauses. He says, very slowly, “I didn’t escape alone.”

“What does that mean?” Jonathan asks.

“Well, when I ran, my job was persuading people to let us through. Persuading the people I could reach, anyway. But Seven—” he meets Steve’s eyes for a second before looking back at Jonathan “—Seven’s job was healing me.”

The room falls silent.

“Healing?” El repeats.

“I mean,” Sebastian says, “I don’t know if it works for comas, but that could be worth a shot, right?”

“And this Seven, you can get them here?” There’s a half-wondrous, half-crumpled look on Lucas’ face, like he wouldn’t be able to bear it if the answer isn’t an affirmative.

“I can,” Sebastian promises.

Lucas exhales shakily and stumbles forward, pulling Sebastian into a hug. “Thank you,” he says, voice muffled into Sebastian’s shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I can’t guarantee that it’ll work,” he warns.

“But it’s better than anything we’ve got at the moment,” Will says, and there’s a ghost of a smile on his face, and god, it’s been so long since any of these kids got news that wasn’t absolutely devastating. Steve feels something in him settle at the sight.

“So how do we do that?” Steve says. “Where can we find this guy?”

Sebastian looks out of the window. The afternoon light rests on his cheekbones, and he looks angelic, almost. He looks like coming home.

“We can go now,” he finally says. “If you come with me.”

Robin frowns. You?

Steve shrugs, then asks, for good measure, “Me?”

“You can drive, right?”

“So can I,” Jonathan says.

“No, he’s fine,” Sebastian says. He begins walking through them, towards the door. “Come on.”

Which, like, he’s not a dog. But this is Max’s life on the line, so Steve wriggles his fingers at Robin (What am I doing?), and says, to the room, “Guess I’ll be back—when will we be back?”

Sebastian’s hand is on the knob. He doesn’t turn around when he says, “Very soon, actually.”

“I’ll be back very soon,” Steve says, jogging up to Sebastian.

The moment the door closes behind them, Sebastian catches Steve’s wrist. “Steve, right?”

“Um.” He tries shaking his hand free, but Sebastian is strong—freakishly strong. If that’s another one of his powers, maybe they have a better chance against Vecna than he thought. “I don’t think I told you my name.”

“You did,” Sebastian says, even though they met five minutes ago and definitely did not exchange names. He pulls Steve down the corridor. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“Like, together?” Steve is so confused.

“Yes, like together.”

It barely takes them a second before they’re pushing through the doors of the bathroom. It’s empty, cold, and Steve realizes that they’re all alone. “Dude,” he says. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I compel people,” Sebastian says, apropos of nothing.

“Yeah, I think we’ve established that,” Steve says. In his head, he thinks, Shit, he’s going to kill me. Which is a normal thing to think, considering that he’s nearly died at least five times before the age of twenty-one.

“And,” Sebastian says, squeezing his wrist, “everything I did, I did because I thought it was right. That it was safe. You get that, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay.”

Sebastian lets go of Steve, who stumbles backwards, hitting the sink. “Sebastian?”

“Okay.” Sebastian rolls his shoulders back, and lifts a finger to tilt Steve’s chin up. They stare at each other: Sebastian’s eyes are a light brown, the kind that haunts Steve in his dreams. “And I’m sorry, okay? I really am. About everything I’ve done and everything I will do.”

None of these makes sense. Steve opens his mouth, ready to ask What are you talking about, but—

“Seven,” Sebastian says, voice echoing. “I need you to remember.”

[hellsbroadcaster]

There is a post going around on twitter talking about what Viv says about Alastor's smile. I am going to leave out everyone's talk about it being about Vox because that isn't my focus on this. Though, it does play a part. What got me was that she says its a 'very self enforced form of ego'

Meaning he does it to himself. He sees a frown as weakness, getting someone to lose their smile means the game is over. the jig is up. its serious now. That for Alastor is a win. And its fascinating to me that people just write it off as a 'oh Vox is a walking temper tantrum' for shits and giggles and yeah it can be, but the way there's so much more underneath it? That's the real juicy stuff for me. Both Alastor and Vox are in the entertainment industry. We all know how toxic that kind of lifestyle is. Everyone is all up in your business. You have to adhere to people's view of you.

Vox is fucking drained. The way he comes up from his evil lair, to his photo of him smiling but when the doors open he's frowning, before he's inhaling and putting on a smile like everything's fine. They are the lie we tell ourselves. How we appear composed when really we're fucking screaming on the inside.

When I think about Alastor stitches being his own doing? I'm fascinated by that. It means he refuses to let anyone get the best of him, they could never get under his skin if he physically cannot frown. It's why he's so indifferent, why he's so unbothered. He's always smiling. It doesn't matter what he's feeling on the inside because so long as no one can see, he still has the upper hand.

I keep thinking about how he and his mother had to deal with a lot of shit. The people in power, like to make those they think are beneath them feel strong. Oppression, violence, kicking them down when they are already on the floor. All I can hear is the phrase 'don't let them see you frown' and Alastor taking it personally. Alastor echoing it inside his head like a mantra. For every disgusting, racist comment. Don't let them see you frown. For every insult, don't let them see you frown. For every time they try and see you fail, don't let them see you frown. Because the second they do? They win. You give them power over you and that is something Alastor refuses to let anyone have over him.

People don't talk about how hard it is being a person of color, especially back then yes but I also relate to having to always be perfect. Growing up we get told to never draw attention to ourselves. Act like the white people. Keep your head low. This kind of thinking is why so many latinos are oddly republican because they get told to act like something aren't and then forget where they came from. It's pressure to perform, to be the best and doing it the right way so you aren't judged.

Can't do a bad thing ever because then it just proves that oooh all of us colored people are as bad as they say. I have this thought on things even if its not my fault? Like if I'm in a hurry and I don't open the door for the white people coming out. Or the way, the elevator the other day already had six people in it and three white ppl saw it and decided they were gonna squeeze themselves in anyway. but I swear you reverse it and someone would have said something. its having to watch what we say, having to not sound too much like where we come from. SMILE AND JUST PUSH THROUGH IT. When we really just want to fucking be angry.

This is why I think Alastor refuses for society to whip him into shape. Why he smiles, why he shoves all his anger down into the pit of his belly and only releases it when he's killing someone who probably fucking deserves it. I think Vox shows us the version of us when we're all depressed and searching for that dopamine hit, but the reality is we're all drained physically and mentally because of this persona we put on. Alastor is the twisted, darker side of that. the kind that wants to act on it. the repression, the internalized anger from not being able to express himself the way he should. alastor is a hypocrite himself. calling vox out for being fake, he is exactly the same way. he's just much better at hiding it.

[imustbenuts]

Who's your Delicious in Fire Emblem dream adventurer party-- We've talked meals, but who's gonna go diving into dungeons to hunt these monsters?

oooh this is a pretty interesting spin and tough to answer. theres so many characters in FE its a difficult to pin down. anyway throught process time

for this ask im going to interpret this into the following problem. 1) be good at cooking mons, 2) and be okay with eating mons.

theres def a lot of them who are objectively good at hunting, but the mon part will trip them up.

further, my problem with the majority of the FE cast is that i trust very few of these people to be both of those things. majority of these characters are also either too aristocrat-y or not adventerous enough in terms of food... at least in my head. more under the cut bc long post ;o

like i cant expect chrom to be all 'sure lets eat some fried lizards', dude grew up on fancy feasts and field rations. even if his STR is through the roof and eats unpeeled oranges hes just not really the type to be enthusiastic on monster food. alcryst would panic at the thought of it and ill spare him from this hypothetical. culturally, takumi might not be ok with eating mons bc they could be too 'unclean' for shinto. similarly, as capable as some cooks are, non-conventional monster parts on the chopping block is probably not something they'd wanna touch.

also for the purpose of this post im sniping bunet and frederick straight out of the pool bc both are such an easy pick. bunet bc he would absolutely respect the food to cook it perfectly, and frederick bc he'd be decent but will be a pain in the ass to deal with without blackmailing chrom or something. bam bam.

so ding dong the first victims of the fire emblem dangly ronply has been found. lets move on

so here are the shortlisted canidates: lukas, nephenee, petra, byleths, nyx and shez. not necessarily a party, bc personality might not gel well together :c, but at least one of these in a party and the run should have a decent chance of succeeding.

1. lukas

lukas is choosen here bc he would not be bothered too much by the idea of eating monsters. in fact, he would be okay at prepping a slain mon for food even if he cant cook decently. his inherent lack of strong emotions or feelings towards things is also going to be a big plus for this specific scenario. some people have interpreted him being a high functioning sociopath or just someone who has very repressed emotions.

either way he isnt too bound by conventional thinking. and also he'd be the party's tank and foward. lukas the tank engine. never forget.

2. nepheene.

she would probably squick a bit here at the thought of eating monsters not bc monsters are ick but bc society thinks the act of eating monsters is ick. so itd take some time getting used to it but she would quickly adapt in a dunmeshi setting given her country bumpkin background.

mon prep, no issues. i also think she might be good at foraging. cooking hearty meals might come easy due to her growing up with multiple siblings. shes also very tough in survival, so i think she'll do okay :)

3. petra

this girl's got it. shes good at hunting, good at trapping, probably okay at recognizing and disabling traps considering her perception honed from her hunting culture and skill.

mon prep isnt going to be a big problem. generally speaking, cultures where hunters are present typically try not to waste any part of their kills, and butchering is an essential skill to have. in terms of taste it might be a little difficult for others to get used to, but im sure she'll be a massive boon to any dungeon food party.

4. byleth / byleths

oh yeah. they are DEFINITELY not going to have a problem with this. considering they're mercenaries and are on the road often, hunting and cooking would be a basic survival skill. they wouldnt be picky about food either

given how they might be very objective orientated, giving them a mission of hunting monsters for food will not go wrong. i hope. as long as sothis doesnt get in the way--

5. shez

!!UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES PUT SHEZ AND BYLETH TOGETHER IN THE SAME PARTY WITHOUT PRIOR INTERACTION!!

to prevent sothis from activating, place a face down shez in defense position and summon a byleth in attack position. then, activate Tea Time and upon the appearance of sothis, activate Swords Of Revealing Light. this will lock sothis down while the two have a chat and realize they're exactly the same except where shez is suckier at general mercenary stuff, they're infinitely better at cooking

once that gets resolved feel free to put shez either solo or together with byleth. they're a squishier byleth but def will get the job done AND feed you yum yums.

6. nyx

nyx is a very very powerful magic user who embodies the lolibaba trope. but for her case, she doesnt follow conventional thinking, and is a very powerful mage who might appreciate taking a mission of dungeon monster hunting to train and get her abilities under control

above all, bc of her curse trapping her physical age to be a young girl, shes mentally an old lady, so shes mature and kind and seems to really want to act on those feelings. her bringing a bunch of dead mons for the youngins to eat might do her good for her mental health :D

further, i think shes the type to pick up maternal-ish skills like cooking and sewing for another person or poor meowmeows if she gets attatched enough.

and bc shes good at magic she can easily disable magical traps or detect magical BS. shes definitely a learned mage by the time we run in to her in fates

thats all folks (this took hours to write hrbrhrh)