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rainyorca · 4 months ago

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Can I request Scott summers x reader where he realizes his feelings for the reader, but has difficulty expressing his fellings, so thing start to get awkward, but the reader catches on.

Thank you so much for requesting! I would like to say since this is the first actual request I've made, that these will usually be around 1k-2k words unless I really get into it. Anyways I hope you enjoy Anon :)

Cw: gn!reader (however I do use she/her pronouns at one point but the reader is still gn!), fluff (?), mentions of blood, implied first love, i have nothing else to tag tbh!

When you first came to the X-mansion, Scott didn't really think much of it. By no means were you unimportant to him, every mutant who joins the X-mansion is respectfully greeted by him and considered an important part of his life. An important piece at least.

You didn't talk much but you didn't not talk, you were very vocal about things during meetings. If there was something you believed needed to be addressed, you would say it. If you had input on something he had said, he would allow you room to speak, or you would just interrupt him.

Now Scott didn't talk to you much, not as much as he did with Jean or Logan, but he always had an eye on you. You two would exchange smiles or nods whenever you saw each other in the hallway. When Scott couldn't sleep sometimes he would find you in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, specifically his cereal.

The first time it happened he was a little stunned to see you. He switched on the light, pausing in the doorway when he saw you at the table. You look up at him mid spoonful, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

He remembers all the other times too, soon it became sort of a routine. If he didnt see you at all during the day, at least he would see you during the night. Your mutation did not require you to be nocturnal, it just appears like it was more of a side effect, like how he’s sensitive to light.

“What's your mutation like?�� he asked one night, sitting across from you at the table, “I mean from your point of view.”

You look up from your phone, staring at him while you think. “It's ... .interesting,” you start slowly, looking down at the table, “actually very similar to those possession scenes you see in horror movies.”

“How similar exactly?” he raises a brow, you can faintly see his eyes behind those ruby shades. “Well not only am I physically inside their body but mentally too,” you continue, “I don't just control their body, I control their thoughts, I basically become the person. ”

He goes quiet, staring at you as if he's trying to study you. You sit back in your chair, staring up at the ceiling. “But it's different,” you hum, lightly tossing your phone on the table, “I’ve been inside so many people, I’ve felt what it was like to be them. I could feel their heartbeat over mine, their breath. I could hear their thoughts.”

“It's not really mind reading like Jean or Charles can do,” you press your lips into a thin line, like you were competeplating what you were about to say, “I am their mind, it's like I’ve lived through their memories. And those who have died, I see everything up until their final thought. I can feel their pain, their sorrow, their happiness.”

He listens closely, sensing a particular emotion from you. He listens too well in your opinion. “I keep their mind and soul intact, most of the time they dont even know I'm in their body, that's why they can't fight back. They believe everything that I'm doing, they’re doing,” you tilt your head down to look at him, he's leaned in, elbows pressing on the table, “if that makes any sense.”

“I’d love to get a look inside your head,” you say in an almost joking tone, “not in a weird, sadistic way. I'm just curious. I never know what you're thinking with those glasses shielding your eyes.”

He learned something about you that day. Maybe multiple things, but one thing for certain. You were incredibly sympathetic. It is your mutation keeping you up, the thoughts of the hundreds of people you’ve been in keep you up at night. Even when you leave their bodies, you remember everything, every feeling, every thought, everything.

Scott also realized something about himself, however he didn't believe it at first. He was in love with you, and he has been. All these late nights meeting up in the kitchen, practicing in the danger room with him on some early mornings, even going on walks when you two had nothing to do. Your relationship had shifted from coworkers to friends, sooner or later lovers to family, if he was hopeful.

He started simple. Inviting you to do more early morning runs and late night walks. You thought nothing of it, just normal friendly things. He continued on this routine with you for the next few months, and as time went on, he kept trying to make a move.

You never caught on, not yet at least. But Scott’s terrible attempts at expressing himself were proven to make things awkward between you two. It was difficult for him, something about you made him nervous. He would try things like complimenting you and it never seemed to work, in his eyes at least. You would thank him and that's that. Nothing more, nothing less.

He started offering to go on solo missions with you just in case you needed a hand, but in reality he just wanted to spend more time with you. Logan called him a pussy for not at least giving you a hint, but in Scott’s eyes, a hint is a lot different than it would be from Logan.

Logan would be straightforward with you, no bullshit. Tell you how he really feels, maybe only a month after figuring out his feelings. Scott didn't know how to tell you or when to tell you. Sometimes he's even unsure if he should tell you. But if he kept quiet it would eat him away from the inside.

You were like the teenage crush in a cliche movie, where the male lead is too afraid to say anything to the girl, and then later in life he would talk about her like she was more important than his own wife. It was a first love kinda situation, he was afraid if you two never got together, he would be thinking about you even after he was married to someone else.

So you can imagine how thankful but also slightly afraid he was when you caught on. It was after a mission, Scott had covered you, more like shielded you with his body, from an attack. The specific mutant you were dealing with had the power similar to a porcupine, except the quills weren't really quills, they were heavy but thin hardened pieces of the man's skin. They could do a lot of damage if used correctly, thankfully only Scott’s back took most of the heat.

Later that night you sat with him in his room, pulling out the quills one by one with tweezers. The blood that poured down his back dripped onto his sheets, which you quickly covered with a towel to prevent any more stains.

“Do you like throwing yourself into danger or something?” you ask, quickly pulling out another quill, “it seems like every time you come with me you're always getting injured.”

“Just protecting my teammate,” he replies, his face barely visible to you. You wipe the blood with the rag and then place it back on the towel. “And you do this for every teammate? It seems like you only wanna tag along on my solo missions,” you furrow your brows, “you never go with Logan on any of his or Storm.”

“Those are two very different people,” he points out, turning his head slightly to look at you, “they’re both pretty good at handling themselves.” The second he gets that last word out he knows he made a mistake and he can feel you pause. There's a buzz in the air, the tension slowly building out of nowhere.

“You think I can't handle myself?”

He defends, “I never said that.”

You yank out the last quill exceptionally hard, earning a flinch from him before you get off the bed and stand in front of him. “You did say it, just not directly,” you narrowed your eyes at him, tone lowering, “is that really the reason you come with me? Because you think I’m going to get myself hurt? Or is it something else you're not telling me?”

He goes silent, brown eyes staring at you like a lost puppy behind those ruby glasses. He’s completely frozen between telling you the truth or half of the truth. Whatever it is he feels like he can't lie to you, what are the chances you possess him and do get to look inside his brain? All the things he's thought about you would surely reach you and your reaction, well, he wasn't sure of that yet.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” you push, cocking your head at him.

“It's not that,” he starts slowly, standing up, “I think you handle yourself very well, you’ve shown countless times that you can take care of yourself. I just like to offer help, I'm the leader, that's what I should do, help my team.”

“But you only go with me, Scott,” you continue, “never anyone else, just me.”

He goes quiet again, you can practically see the gears turning in his head to try and defend himself. “What's the real reason?” you ask after a moment, stepping a little closer to him, “because i'm starting to think it's not that you don't think i can handle myself.”

“Because I want to,” he responds, tone a little firmer than before, “I want to go with you on your missions, I want to be there if you need help, I want to keep you safe.”

You stare at him, letting his words process in your head, and then it almost strikes you like a train. He didn't just help you because he thinks it's his job. He helps you because he wants to, he wants to spend time with you, keep you safe, as he just mentioned.

The sudden replay of everything he's ever said to you, done with you, flickers through your mind. And now you can't help but shake your head with a quiet chuckle. “Are–are you in love with me Scott?” you ask slowly, tilting your head at him.

He doesn't say a word, instead he just stares. The immediate reaction was your answer, was your yes. To your surprise he doesn't deny anything, instead he accepts the truth with poise.

“Is that the truth you believe?” he asks, almost inviting. You follow his silence, keeping your mouth shut as you think of what to say or how to feel. In truth, you were complexed, you have been pressing down your feelings for Scott since when you first got here, afraid you would ruin the work relationship or family dynamic of the team. But to hear him almost admit it so freely, after months of compliments, acts of service, and silent yet loving stares, maybe it wouldn't ruin anything.

“You can look inside me,” he offers, holding his hands out for you to grab, “look inside my head, see how much I love you.”

“No, I don't need to be inside you to tell,” you respond, grabbing his hands, “you can show me.”

You wish you could see his eyes, but you can only imagine how they look right now. He hesitantly reaches up to cup your face, which you accept graciously, holding his hand in place. You step closer to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body. He leans in, pressing his lips into yours. It's passionate, sweet like honey, everything he's ever wanted. The only thing running through his mind right now was you, and the idea of rubbing it in Logan's face that he was in fact not a pussy.

#⋆｡𖦹°‧ukume!#scott summers #scott summers x reader #cyclops #cyclops x reader

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pumpkinsy0 · 2 months ago

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Seasonal depression Pony hcs with Darry trying to navigate how to help him?? I have a hc that pony has been dealing with seasonal depression even before his parents died and they always seemed to know exactly the right thing to do while Darry just stuck to being the fun older brother letting Pony tag along with his friends to try and cheer him up BUT now Darry can't really do that (cause... y'know 💀) so he's having a hard time figuring out how to help pony

tbh all these mfs got grounds to have seasonal depression at least one of the gang is always depressed each month, its like a torch they pass around

•before their parents died, darry rlly wasnt THAT proactive in helping him w it. not bc he didnt care but bc he didnt know how to care for him, he would ofc help when he could but ultimately he mostly left it up to soda and his parents to help, which they did

•after their parents died ponys seasonal depression genuinely slipped his mind, he just had a lot going on, so when pony started acting “weird” he remembered it and even then he didnt know how to react to it, he wouldnt b as hard on pony as he normally was but thats just about it, even then he was kinda leaving it up to others (namely soda and johnny) to help w that

•now AFTER johnny died, i feel like we can make the argument that pony has 2 points of seasonal depression, the month all that bs went down and whatever month u hc’d him to already have seasonal depression in, and darry COULDNT just push that to the side, now he’d actually have to confront it

• hes so out of the loop on what to do to help pony bc he hasnt exactly been there and he beats himself up for it, going to soda about it is his only way of finding out what to do and that makes him feel like a failure

•its so awkward when darry tries hanging out w pony to get him outside a lil bc pony KNOWS darrys trying to connect w him and he hates and likes it at the same time. he hates it bc he hates having ppls pity and thats all ppl ever do when their around pony w his seasonal depression, pity him. but likes it cause hey, at least hes not invisible to the guy

•pony told soda about how he feels about that, and soda told him to just give darry a chance. soda didnt tell darry pony said that though, if darry heard that, he would lose a lot of the small confidence he has for this

•i think darry does has his episodes of depression and those r the small times him and pony connect w one another, they both dont go to each other for their emotional problems, so this is more of an unspoken thing that happens between them, they just GET each other, more importantly they help each other to get better, by helping the other, its like they motivate one another.

•from those times darry starts getting a clearer understanding of what to do for pony, he doesnt need people to watch over him all the time like darry was pushing the others in the gang to do, he needs his space only time he actually needs others around is as a push to keep on going, b his friend not a guardian!!!

•before their parents died, pony and darry would regularly prank each other, and i could totally see darry bringing that back a lil bit just to see pony smile. if not, soda and darry bicker and prank each other to see pony giggle

•one of the things darry does is that he draws pics for pony as a lil motivation, but he cant draw for shit and pony thinks its funny. before he wouldve found them more antagonizing than anything, but the drawing is so silly and he sees that darrys rlly trying so he cant get mad

#ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis #sodapop curtis

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mirensiart · 4 months ago

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ten people i'd like to get to know better

I was tagged by @magiowlio thank you 🥹💖

last song: If you were able to zoom in inside my brain this song is playing there on a loop 24/7 (I'm listening to it rn actually)

favorite color: every single shade of mauve actually but specifically this one

last book: "the final empire" by brandon sanderson, it's the first book of a trilogy (I'm currently halfway through book 2) the trilogy plays with the idea of "what would happen if the chosen hero dies in the final battle?" The first book starts with the hero already being dead and how the ones left behind try to do something about the dark lord winning lol it's a pretty entertaining book trilogy with fun characters and a super interesting magic system

last movie: LOTR the fellowship of the ring cause it was OCT 24th day a few days ago aka the day frodo arrives on Rivendell, it's a special day everyone I would die for the LOTR trilogy

last tv show: the last tv show I watched that changed the chemistry of my brain was "better call saul" not only was it good as a breaking bad spinoff but I am madly in love with Kim Wexler, I would die for her, who the hell is Saul/Jimmy like step aside dude and let me admire and care for Kim during all 6 seasons every second she's not on screen is agony to me

sweet/spicy/savory: thanks to my histamine intolerance sweet and spicy things destroy my stomach, so savory it is (if I could choose though I'd say spicy...I used to love spicy stuff before)

relationship status: single but would love to be held by a beautiful lady while we kiss under the moonlight any time

current obsession: the legend of zelda suddenly came into my life after being away for years, kicked my door open, and is now holding me hostage with a sword to my neck

last thing I googled: I think it was hand pose references cause you always need those tbh

looking forward to: metroid prime 4 finally in my hands after waiting for it for 7 fucking years oh my GOD

I tag my besties, who have been alongside me for so many fandoms and are probably shaking their heads at me going insane over another fandom (zelda) once again, for all ur patience I love u sm guys (and u should all check them out too)

@31-radical @alch-emi @eirikaily @michael-h-art @turquoise-eyes @theothersideshowmel @monokuromatic @die-lian-hua

💖💖💖

#JOY I KNOW YOU'RE TOO COOL FOR THESE POSTS BUT I'M TAGGING U CAUSE I WANT U TO KNOW THAT I LOVE U OK #nobody feel obligated to do this btw lol just see me tagging u as me telling u that i would die for you #(cause i will ok)#miry’s yapping

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everwalldigan · 7 months ago

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Anon is just misconstruing people taking the fact that dick wasn’t around a lot during Jason’s run as robin and extrapolating that jason had a reason to be bitter about it as maligning dick. NeverMind the way dick fans love to give him angst with the “my mom gave me robin” thing even though that’s like a thing that got added one time, and dick gave Jason robin in a box their first interaction post-crisis. And that that box was deliberately drawn exactly like and intended to evoke when dick gave Jason robin in a box pre-crisis, when Jason was about to debut his own costume and persona and dick went out of his way to ask Jason to be robin. Like okay either dick didn’t have any resentment that could be picked up on, voiced or not, about his mom giving him robin and Jason stealing it, or you’re making your fave a boring 20something who beatifically suffered in perfect silence while a teen trampled on the memory of their dead mom. Which is it.

Like there are out of universe reasons dick wasn’t around when Jason was robin, Jason only existed as robin so that dick could spend all his time with the Teen Titans and Batman could still have a robin, so Nw didn’t cross over into Batman and Robin much, he did it quite a few times after Jason died before Tim came, and Jason’s post crisis robin run was pretty short so there wasn’t time because a lot of the time happened in time skips, but it doesn’t change the fact that dick mentored Tim and wasn’t there for Jason, and that Jason was kept by Batmans side so usually in Gotham, occasionally with Batman when he was doing justice league stuff, joining the Teen Titans once to help when dick was in trouble, doesn’t compare to Tim’s heavy involvement with YJ and TT. Dick fans are just soooo sensitive they can’t handle someone looking at those canon dynamics and considering their possible emotional impact, justified or not, and they especially can’t handle a what-if that explores how it would be if dick were mean. Like if there people hate fandom and alternate characterizations so much they should just log off or stay out of the tag, and never read else-worlds either 🙄🙄🙄

Tbh (as a dick fan myself, I came into the fandom and imprinted on him like a baby duck) I think dick had all the reason to be a bitch to Bruce and by extension cold/standoffish to Jason. Is it a shitty thing to do that to a kid who just wanted to have a home? Yes it is but 1. I don’t think dick was really intending to hurt Jason, I think he was so hurt and angry by Bruce’s actions that he didn’t really think about the position Jason was in. And 2. I think he’s allowed to be flawed and that doesn’t take away from his character at all

This is exactly why I feel intimidated when trying to delve into the comics cause it’s like, whatever iteration you pick you’re never right and there’s always someone who’s gonna say “well I think that iteration is bad, the one I like is more true to the character” if that makes sense. Like I like the concept of Robin being smth dick created with the memories of his parents to help people while making his family’s colours a symbol of hope. And with that concept comes the hurt of being essentially fired from the position you created and then finding out your mentor had just handed over that symbol to someone he basically just met. Like I think dick obviously does have regrets with the way he treated Jason and I think that guilt would manifest into him investing more into a relationship with Tim and not letting history repeat itself.

But then again, I’m still quite new to the fandom which is why I mostly keep out of discussions and stay with silly parodies/scenarios so if I misconstrued any of the characters in a major way… my bad

#everwalldiganasks #batman #dc comics #dcu #jason todd #batfamily #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #I would say sorry for mischaracterising the characters #but what characterisation #there’s like 500 different iterations of them #pre flashpoint post flashpoint I just pick and chose what I like #one day I’m gonna read all the Batman comics just you wait #then I’m gonna go wild

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azsazz · 8 months ago

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SJM Ask Game

Thank you for the tag @daydreaming-nerd !! 💙💙 (I do want to hear those redacted answers for where you put tharion lol) I feel like it's been so long since I've been on tumblr or even done one of these but I'm excited💙

1) What’s your favourite SJM book?

Hmmmm I'm gonna say ACOMAF because that's when I was first introduced to Azzy and the obsession began 💙😈

2) Which is your favourite series (tog, acotar or cc)

If you don't know me, CC is one of the worst books I've ever read. It's hard to choose between ACOTAR and TOG tho because they were both really good....

3) Who is your favourite character? (And why?)

Hehehehehehehehe. Az obviously 🥰

4) Do you have a favourite quote from one of the books?

Hmmmm...tbh not really...the ones that stay stuck in my head are the cringey ones...BUT, let's go with "Cassian shot him a glare. 'I don't see you spouting poetry, brother.' Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly, 'I don't need to resort to it.'" THAT'S GODDAMN RIGHT BBY YOU DONT 💙💙 legs spread for mah boi

5) Favourite ship?

Azris frfr

6) Elriel or Gwynriel? Or neither?

Azris frfr

7) Who’s the most underrated SJM character?

Oooof there's so many. Fenrys. I've never gotten enough of him.

8) Which character do you wish to learn more about?

Azris frfr. I want both of their backstories rn

9) Are there any characters you don’t like?

Bryce Quinlan and Danika Fendyr

10) Favourite bat boy?

My king azriel 💙💙

11) Favourite court?/ Which one would you most like to live in?

Honestly I'd probably either live in Autumn or Night tbh.

12) Favourite SJM villain?

Does Tamlin count? lol.

13) If you could change one thing in any of the books what would it be?

That CC never happened

14) Favourite SJM theory?

Azris frfr

15) Favourite Archeron sister?

Prob Ness

16) A character you feel is over-hated/ underrated:

over-rated: bryce quinlan

under-rated: chaol 💙

17) Aelin, Bryce, or Feyre?

Aelin!!

18) What’s your favourite character from each series?

Fenrys, Azriel, Ruhn

19) If you wrote an acotar book what would you call it?

A Court of Smoke and Cinders? (azris frfr)

20) Who is your favourite acotar blogger?

nah there's literally too many to choose from

21)What fics would you recommend to people who love the series?

The Serpent and the Wings of Night

Questions for writers

22) Easiest character to write for?

Azzy because i built him brick by brick

23) Hardest character to write for?

LUCIEN. IDK WHY

24) What’s a character you’d like to write for but haven’t yet?

lol who haven't i written for? hmmmm...maybe fenrys, aedion, or hunt?

25) What’s a court you’d like to write about more?

Dawn!

26) What’s a character you won’t write for and why?

hmmm...idk I'd like to say that I'd try anything once...

27) If you could only write for one character ever again, who would you pick?

azzy. nobody compares to him

28) Whats your favourite trope to write about when it comes to Azriel?

right now i think modern aus...in any sort. or anything that involves angst i love putting everyone thru some shit

29) What do you think is the best/favourite acotar fic you’ve written?

hmmmm...i feel like this is impossible to choose

30) Who are your favourite friendships to write about?

eris x anyone because this man needs a friend

31) For first time readers to your blog, which three fics would you recommend they read?

LMAO ummm...I'll list at least one for. every character

Az: Cupid's Chokehold or Midnight Muse

Cass: In Storm or Dial Drunk or Better Men Have Hit Their Knees and Bigger Men Have Died

Eris: You Know I Always Liked Playing with Fire or Hide

Rhys: Clandestine Love or Dioxazine

Lucien: The Other Woman or My Happy Ending

or literally any poly can't go wrong with those tbh

No pressure tags: @writingsbychlo @acourtofwhatthefuck @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @azrielhours @a-frog-with-a-laptop or anyone else who wants to participate!

#ask azsazz

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deripmaver · 1 year ago

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Which is worse, rape or murder? - Or, should Casca have died during the Eclipse?

Unlike most of my meta posts, this is one I'm making as a direct critique of a specific take I've seen. It's similar to my meta about apostle Casca in that regard, where I want to look at a specific idea and why I dislike it, as opposed to wanting to explore my thoughts on an aspect of canon. To be clear, this is only something I do if I've seen a take a bunch of times, enough so I know it's not a one-off. It's also not something I do because I want to engage in discussion with the people who've said whatever the take is, it's something I do in case other people who agree with me might be interested in a meta post that's more in line with their viewpoint.

I provide this disclaimer because, as I've said a few times now, the idea that it's the better choice to have Casca die during the eclipse is one that I just really dislike, and I make that preeeeetty fuckin clear. I can't control who sees this or who comments, but I did think I should make my stance explicit.

Berserk fandom is an absolute treasure trove of bad takes about rape and sexual assault. Considering the seriousness with which the manga takes rape, despite it's sometimes quite dodgy framing and portrayal, the fact that the fandom is Like That is fully a testament to cishet men's inability to consume media without turning into a brainless amoeba of toxicity.

I have to say, though, what shocked me the most was that this particular take, that Casca should have just died during the eclipse, was not from the dudebro side of fandom ('cause if she had they couldn't make their silly little "casca enjoyed it" jokes).

I'm coming right out of the gate with my opinion, which is a firm no, Casca should not have died during the eclipse, and the story would be weaker if she had. I'm going to presume during this analysis that the people who say this assume that her death would be instead of her rape, as opposed to her being raped and then dying, which would be... Horrific. Even more horrific than canon, lol.

I do have sympathy for some of the people who wish she had died, and in a way I understand, though I vehemently disagree. Some of the posts with this POV sound almost traumatized as they proclaim I wish she would have died, it would have been better. As this is something I've only noticed in the tumblr fandom side of things, where most people are women, I think this comes from women readers feeling furious and sick about one of the most vile rape scenes out there. In some ways its intentionally vile, in others - ie how grotesquely sexualized it is - it's unintentional. Then, of course, she continues to suffer in her disabled, infantilized trauma state. I hear these readers wanting to shout at Miura that he should have just killed her off rather than force her, and us, through reading that. It would have been kinder.

I have... Far less sympathy for others. There's a side of fandom that simply does not care about Casca (in a different way than the dudebros who don't care about her despite gushing about how she's peak tomboy waifu). It's amazing the veneer of progressivism these people put on as they say that Casca should have died, because she did not contribute to the narrative before the eclipse, and she certainly hasn't after. Going to get even spicier for a second and point out fandom's long history of wanting female characters dead because they get in the way of mlm ships, and how I think this is SOMETIMES simply another manifestation of it.

To be fully fucking clear, I do NOT think that being a grffgts shipper (censored so this doesn't show up in the tag LOLLLLL) precludes being shitty about Casca. I think tumblr's demographics, and those demographics' typical shipping preferences, mean that grffgts is naturally going to dominate. By simple statistics, most of the people whose opinions I hate are going to be grffgts shippers. Same with most of the people's opinions I like on tumblr tbh. I do, however, think it's prudent to point out old school fandom misogyny, and how I personally feel it's showing up in the fandom, and also point out that it pisses me off that Casca dying during the eclipse is at all presented as the least misogynistic outcome.

I'm also going to say now that this is firmly being kept in the realm of fiction. In real life, there are horrific discussions about how being a victim of rape defiles you for life, and that it's better to die without the "shame" of being raped than live with it. While I have to be blunt it's difficult for me to separate some of the discussion of Casca dying during the eclipse from that anti-survivor bias I see in real life just because ~we live in a society~, I in general think this sentiment is coming from a place of simply analyzing, narratively, which outcome is less misogynistic given how the rape in canon is portrayed.

Would it narratively have been better for Casca to have died? What about the impact of her death versus her current storyline?

First, I think I need to outline my interpretation of the eclipse rape. I don't think that the decision to have Griffith rape Casca was Miura simply being a misogynistic cishet dude who threw in rape for the hell of it. I also don't think it's OOC. Again, there's much to critique in how it's drawn, but not in the fact that it happened. Griffith, in his moments of feeling out of control and powerless, uses sexual advances to reassert his control over the situation - see Charlotte, or the wagon scene with Casca. A distaste for sexual violence committed by his enemies doesn't mean Griffith is incapable of wielding sexual violence as a weapon himself. In real life, there's a paradox where rape committed by political or social enemies is seen as the worst crime one could ever commit, while the mundane rape committed as a consequence of patriarchy is excusable and the victims should be blamed and shamed. Did Miura have the gender studies acumen to think about that when writing? I dunno, but neither does anyone who thinks he didn't.

I also think it's supposed to establish his actions during the eclipse as fully over the moral event horizon. Without it, it's easy to ask if ultimately, Griffith's decision to sacrifice his followers to a cruel death is justified to create a perfect utopia. With it, it establishes Griffith as acting fully on cruel, malicious impulse in moments of emotional turmoil, which puts his future utopia in jeopardy. I can't be the only one who sees Falconia as a ticking time bomb. Of course, this doesn't mean he needed to rape Casca, but simply that I think it was necessary to his character to do something that crossed that moral line. He could have raped Guts I suppose. Killerbambi has entered the chat.

While I think this might sound strange, I actually think it's immensely validating to have a character who is a victim not just of rape, but of rape committed by someone she already knew. That's genuinely unique in media on the whole, which plays into that paradox I mentioned earlier - in real life, the vast majority of assaults are committed by someone the victim knew. Having the story surround the continual, horrific trauma of betrayal, of having to watch the person who hurt you move on while trauma keeps you in horrible stasis is almost so realistic it's... uncomfortable. Painful. Hard to read.

There's no greater purpose to what happened to Casca. She didn't grow from it, instead she regressed.

Her general lack of agency post-eclipse is much critiqued in the fandom and like. Fucking yeah fair LOLLLLLL BUT ALSO... But also. Fandom on the whole can be so cruel about traumatized female characters, like there's no way they can do trauma "right." In Casca's case, her lack of agency is turned into a reason she should simply have been killed off instead, as though there aren't so many survivors who, while not as literally as she does, retreat into a shell of themselves and are frozen with trauma as the world begins to pass them by. Of course, the critique would be that she's not a real person, she's a female character written in a misogynistic way by a man, but I personally think this overstates Miura's issues with his portrayal of rape. To me, it presents what they think are his biases as justification for their own biases.

Time and time again, I see survivors discuss feeling validated by Casca's trauma response after being assaulted. Even the parts of the rape scene that I vehemently dislike, such as the hyper-focus on Casca's body and the physical reactions she's having, I've seen more than one person say they felt validated because they too had an unwanted arousal response during an assault. I'll still critique the scene, but regardless of if this was Miura's intention, its impact is clear.

I'll again plug this article by Jackson P. Brown, How Berserk’s Casca challenges the myth of the “Strong Black Woman.” Just to show a quote from it:

All of the action of the story after Conviction Arc is in service of restoring Casca's mind. During Conviction Arc and after, Casca has groups of women who love and protect her, with women as her source of safety. Guts is single mindedly focused on bringing her back, putting his body on the line again and again to protect her and restore her. I wondered about including Guts here because I'm sure I'll get some anon about the Beast of Darkness, which again fair LOL. I have complicated feelings on that, but mostly I think the importance the narrative puts on her mind and her protection is touching, and I think this outweighs how the negative things apparently mean that she should have died.

Her story and trauma, despite its flaws, is shockingly realistic and validating to so many people. She's also a key narrative component post-eclipse, and not just ~for Guts' manpain~ or as a helpless plot device, her story is her own. I've written about Elaine as a character and what she represents, but in brief, Casca doesn't disappear after the eclipse. Miura wrote Elaine with these moments where Casca comes to the surface, and while I wish we had more of her POV I think you can look at how she's coping from how Elaine reacts to the world around her.

I also think it's necessary to have Casca at the Hill of Swords. There's Guts, who Griffith torments in the way only a bitter ex can, and Rickert, who doesn't know what happened the day of the eclipse, but I think Casca is the key component in that scene that cuts through all of Griffith's posturing and Guts' anger. She is there, making the real, human cost of what Griffith did during the eclipse unignorable in a way that no other character could. It's one thing for Guts to be furious with him and Rickert ignorant, it's another to have someone who loved him so innocently and dearly trembling just at the sight of him. Let's not pretend that the depth of betrayal in this scene would be the same if you swapped her for, say, Judeau.

It's funny, Miura is quoted as saying that his initial reason for keeping Casca alive was to provide Guts an ever-burning flame of vengeance, an eternal reminder of everything that he lost during the eclipse. What's wound up happening, on a meta level, is that Casca provides the reader a constant reminder of what happened during the eclipse. As more and more focus is given to her PTSD with her revival, the cruelty with which Griffith acted (and continues to act) becomes harder and harder to ignore. It becomes more difficult to push it aside as just bad, misogynistic writing.

And also, quite simply, I like narratives about trauma recovery, and therefore I'll always find Casca's story worth telling despite my frustration with a lot of it. It's absolutely wild to me that for how often I see the fandom complain about her being "fridged" they think it would have been better to see her ACTUALLY fridged, no chance of coming back at all, just dead to fuel Guts' revenge arc. Would it really be better to have her be just another dead girlfriend? Really?

That's really what it comes down to. I like Casca as a character, and I want her to have lived. The people who wish she had died, many of them simply don't like her as a character. Not all, particularly in that first group I mentioned at the start, but many. Everyone has their preferences of course, but I don't think I need to respect when someone thinks a character has so little influence on the narrative that they should have just died, especially if that character is Casca.

If Casca had died during the eclipse, it would not have been a good death. It would not have been brave, or triumphant, or worth anything for her as a character. Judeau died to protect Casca, but even his death was not brave, it was just sad. That's the whole point of the eclipse.

To have Casca die that way would be a disservice to her as a character, far moreso than to have her struggle on as a traumatized victim of sexual violence. That's genuinely what I believe.

#berserk #casca #casca berserk #berserk meta #casca the og victim of yaoi IN CANON

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kairiscorner · 1 year ago

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i was scrolling thru ur works and i loved the concept of ai assistant miguel sm i rarely see those type of things in his tags 😭😭 could we perhaps have sum hcs abt him maybe a lil angsty idk go wild!! >:3

HELLOOOOO aww, so glad you liked it :D AND OFC !!! i hate yet love how much i've thought of this tbh LMAO but anyway, hope you enjoy !!!

(yes, the barbie movie inspired me yet again 💖💖💖)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

AI assistant miguel headcanons

ever since you updated him with that emotions and shit mod, he's been... busy discovering what it means to exist and the very fun part that comes with it, an existential crisis !!!

he's been going on youtube just listening to video essays and philosophical shit on there and just questioning: what was i made for? does my existence have a point? am i not to go beyond the borders of virtuality and remain as i am, still and immortal, but unliving?

he also goes through a rabbit hole of human experiences–the good, bad, the grand, the mundane; and as he's looking through all these experiences that people share and have shared, seeing all the beautiful and ugly things in the world, he sheds a FUCKING VIRTUAL TEAR FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER.

he also, without your knowledge, looks into the other versions of himself in other universes, and he's a little surprised (at least he emulates surprise) that there are indeed other versions of him that are human and live out a human existence.

he looks through every one of them–those who have lived, died, became spider man, became fathers–and every single one of them was doomed to have an ending. but what was his ending? what was his purpose? was he ever going to leave a mark on the world? would... anyone miss him? why did he exist, why did he end up as an AI assistant when every other version of him was able to live a life. maybe not very happy or full lives, but they were able to live lives, have an ending, while he... he's just there.

he so desperately wants to figure out what it is he wants in life, if you could call his existence living at all. he has all these emotions that, no matter how much he convinces himself it's all just an emulation of emotions, compel him to want some things–to need some things, or someone.

he usually knows the answers to everything, what with the answers being a click or scroll away for him, though when he tries to ask himself what it means to live, to love... he's unsure what they mean, it doesn't compute to him at all what they mean. the only thing that comes up in his mind when he pictures both life and love, all that comes up is... you.

it scares him, he's unsure why you are the first thing that comes up when he searches deep within himself for the answers, but when he thinks of you, there's something that throbs at him, despite him being unable to feel, the feeling of his hypothetical heart throbbing in his chest of code is real to him. he wants you, he needs you, he... he loves you–but he'll never let you know, never. it's best if you live without that knowledge bearing on you... right?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @meeom @arachnoia @popeheywardssecretgf @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @melovetitties

#miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv angst #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse angst #spiderman 2099

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pikkish · 2 months ago

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Do you think there are any ways ID software could fix or improve doom’s story in a sequel to doom eternal or is the only fix a full reboot?

Tbh i don't think there really needs to be a sequel doom game. For as messy as modern doom's writing is, I actually like the general premise of how it ends. Doomguy has already sacrificed so much to stop hell, he has already dedicated everything he is to this sole goal. It's thematically fitting that he would have to kill himself in the final blow. And that's clearly MEANT to be The End. Hell has been well and truly stopped, and doomguy is dead. No more loose ends. It's over. No more doom. The End.

That said, because of how modern doom is, ther ARE loose ends, and in fact, there's one very, very BIG loose end that leaves a lot of space for a potential sequel. The whole premise of TAG was that killing Davoth would destroy anything outside his realm that he made, ie any demons outside hell get vaporized. But then, the reason Doomguy dies at the end is because Dav, in theory, made everything, including Doomguy, so Doomguy goes down too. But then, since Dav made everything, Earth and humanity should also be destroyed, which is, y'know, kind of exactly what Doomguy was supposed to be stopping. So either there's some sort of loophole, or else humanity is still in imminent danger, and either way, there is potential for another story.

BUT.

The reason we're here to begin with is because of poor writing that prioritizes "wouldn't it be cool" and "what can we use to make an attractive trailer" over consistent, coherent, and in depth story. And since the current writer is the same writer who got us here... well, to be honest, I wouldn't put a whole lot of faith in a sequel OR a reboot.

(Not to mention that said current writer is the one who wrote the current big, final The End of TAG2, which implies he didn't intend for there to be a sequel. So any sequel written right now would be either him going "well, ACTUALLY-" yet again, or else the publisher pressuring id to make another doom game for money, and, well, y'know, neither of those things have a great history of working out well for good game development.)

So while I don't personally think any sort of sequel to Eternal/TAG is really necessary, they probably could make a pretty decent one... if they had a better writer. But they don't, so I'm not gonna hold my breath waiting.

#doom #pikspeak #bideogaem rambling :)#i have some Ideas about how stuff could happen post tag and #its stuff ill probably eventually get around to exploring in some form of fan content #(see: the start of that ask blog that i still have on hiatus... gotta get back to that eventually. maybe after dark ages comes out.)#but i think that stuff works better as fan content. i wouldnt want it to be official canon content.#i know they wont bc doom is id's Big Name cash cow but personally i think they should be done with doom #put it down and move on to a new franchise. the longer they keep trying to squeeze it dry the worse its gonna get.#i think tag2 being The End Of Doom works well enough for what it is #and hugo clearly wants to write warhammer 40k instead of doom. so just. let him.#let him make up a whole new ip or something n go wild instead of beating the dead horse he pretty apparently intentionally killed.#but again. they wont. bc doom makes money.#is that an unpopular opinion? thats probably an unpopular opinion. idk

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keepmovinjunior · 3 months ago

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respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better.

ROLEPLAYER NAME: jenn :)

ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS: she / her

MUSE NAME: megara

PREFERRED COMMUNICATION: here or tumblr IM

EXPERIENCE: i started on myspace back in 2006 ; my first ever characters were rouge the bat and rita from oliver & company. so many fond memories of that honestly! we all had a group of lady disney dogs who were friends <3

PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE: i really like everything, honestly. banter, crack... just those little fun things are great, because i don't always have time to do longer things, and they're just so much fun and good for keeping a muse's voice fresh and having characters bounce off of each other! but longer threads are great too, and i really enjoy them a lot for world and relationship building between two muses.

PET PEEVES & DEALBREAKERS: too much like... out of character moping tbh, like. i get that sometimes we all have to let it out and that this place is very supportive and therapeutic in a lot of ways, but... at the end of the day, everyone is responsible for themselves, and they have actual therapists in the world. also. this is my happy (hopefully) drama free place to escape from the issues of the real world and have fun, and i assume it is most everyone elses' here, too, and it gets really draining to see people playing victim all of the time (it's obvious when that's being done), so i don't engage with that kind of energy. also, if you're pushy. like the "hello???" messages if i don't respond, or the asking if i'm responding to you more than once, that's one million and one percent gonna turn me off. just be chill, no one owes anyone anything here, we're all having fun and we have lives.

PLOTS OR MEMES: hmmmmmm, this is hard. probably plots. i appreciate memes for the icebreaker aspect, but they don't always fit my character. sometimes i edit them a bit to sound more like meg, and i would encourage any of my followers to do the same too, if they want to with me!

BEST TIME TO WRITE: i have more time during the day if i'm wfh / have the day off, but i usually feel most creative at night, lol. i try to run a queue though. it's not working v well because i'm excited and always want to post things right away but we're getting there team

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE: in some ways i think so; she's more like me than a lot of muses i've written. i think meg, jane, and maybe elsa are the disney gals i'm most like, personally. we're both women around the same age (meg's older for a disney female romantic lead, which is refreshing), we've both had our hearts broken, we both don't have any biological family whom we keep in touch with... and we both have been guilty of using dark humor as a defense mechanism. also, i am soft and enjoy *~ kisses and hugs *~ like meg, but don't tell anyone no one can know i am a geek and nerd ok. but at the same time, meg is not entirely a self insert. she's a lot funnier than me. she's had a harder time in life than i have by comparison, and she lives in a much worse time for women, lmao. also i really admire her sacrificial side, the fact that she'd do anything for her loved ones, and her moral compass. she won't harm someone she loves, even if she dies in the process. i want to be that way, and she's an inspiration to me because of it.

tagged by : @peculiarbeauty the one and only belle, ty queen <3 tagging: anyone who wants to!! steal it ya filthy animals

#* ━━ out of character.

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leighsartworks216 · 2 years ago

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Your Captain

Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Requested by Anon:

"Sweet! Can i request a angst and fluff fic with engineer mark? Where captain overworks themselves, not taking care of themselves at all, marks sees it but doesn't want to bother them too much about it

And eventually they get really sick and collapse infront of mark

With angst prompts #12 and #17 thank youuuu"

12. "You could have died."

17. "No, no, no, you can't close your eyes right now!"

Tbh this fic started as a completely different concept but I think it fit really well with this request so yah

Warnings: loss of identity, mentions of the warp core events, mentions of death, overworking, exhaustion, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 3906

Masterlist

Tag List Form

The realization is slow. Not in the way a predator creeps on an unsuspecting victim. Nor in the way an illness would, slowly taking over your body and mind until you can no longer ignore your decreasing abilities. No. It’s not even noticeable at first. Little hints here and there, indicative of something bigger.

And then it dawned on you. Suddenly. Like a spark igniting a rampant fire.

It happened when you looked up. The sky was different here. Strange. Nothing like Earth’s. There were no constellations - at least not yet. Two moons circled and twirled around the planet. Your new home.

You had neglected to look up since you landed. You couldn’t blame anyone. There was simply too much to do - buildings in need of building, resources to discover and study, maps to draw up of the surrounding area. Not only that, you joined your leads wherever you could.

You assisted Celci as she and her team revived colonists. You welcomed each new citizen with a smile and Welcome to our new planet! All 100,000 of them. Celci told you to take a break, get a nap, eat something. You would argue that everyone deserved to be welcomed, and it helped you get a grasp on just how many carpenters, engineers, scientists, medics, gun hands and others there actually were. She gave you a worried and disapproving side eye, but she couldn’t do anything to stop you.

Gunther worked to set up a perimeter where the first buildings could be set up. You helped to plan out which buildings went where, and exactly where your borders should be laid. And when he started setting up armed droids to keep an eye out for raging wildlife that could threaten your new beginnings? You were all too happy to put yourself to work, hauling the heavy automechanicals to each designated spot. If he made a comment about exerting yourself, you ignored it and kept on working.

Burt, with the lack of necessity for warp-core engineering (the thought made you flinch), helped out in home-building. He acted as foreman, making sure each sheet of metal had its place. As the framework finished, he and his team went in to affix lights and other electronic necessities. A few engineers even took plumbing jobs. (There was, unfortunately, a lack of those sent over from Earth.) Quiet as he was, the only time he pointed out your willingness to dive head first and help build foundations, framework and walls, was in a poetic waxing after a rather large building neared completion. You said it was a beautiful poem, but you didn’t quite understand its meaning. (You did.)

And Mark. Oh, god, Mark. With each new job you threw yourself into, he was always right there, running around like a headless chicken trying to help. If you were building a wall, he was right behind you (sometimes even right next to you, holding the metal in place as you bolted it in), keeping you up to date with the progress of the colony, messages from Earth, and other such things. He worried over you the most out of anyone else.

You couldn’t blame him, honestly. After the… adventure you both went on, you wouldn’t give yourself the time of day to even close your eyes. Once dark settled in, you threw yourself into paperwork and managerial nonsense. You couldn’t stop.

It had been one of these nights when you realized. You just finished talking to Celci, discussing the discoveries being made. The scientists just started working with the security crew to go out on excursions to study the flora and fauna. They just brought back a strange plant that they believed could be medicinal. It was exciting, truly.

But Celci had been short with the discussion. She had her arms crossed the whole time, shutting down branching topics with quick retorts. You need rest, she’d scolded. She shoved a protein bar in your hand and sent you to your tent, with orders not to do any work tomorrow. When you tried to protest, she enacted a rule that stated she - as lead officer for medical - could confine you to your quarters if you were not at your peak health, physical or otherwise. You couldn’t argue with her, and so trudged like a pouting child toward the temporary camp of tents everyone was staying in.

That’s when you looked up. You stopped, staring at the unfamiliar stars, the strange moons that lacked craters. The Invincible could just be seen, hovering in the atmosphere. You were waiting for orders from Earth to know what to do with her. You refused to dismantle the grand spaceship. Most likely, it would continue to remain high above the planet, run by a skeleton crew. Forever up there. Alone.

That is when the realization overcame you.

It was slow. And then it all came crashing down over top of you like a tsunami. A growing sense of guilt filled your chest. Was that it? Guilt. No, maybe it was… loss. Yes. A powerful sense of grief within you, bubbling to the surface.

Maybe it had always been there. You couldn’t rightly tell. But it was powerful. It grew, bubbling like a thick paste within you until it reached your tear ducts and buckled your knees. The ground was warm beneath you, and the sky full of strange new stars blurred into a swirl of watercolors. Maybe this was how Van Gogh saw the world. Through tears.

“Captain?”

Your lip trembled. You couldn’t look at him.

A warm body knelt next to you on the ground. His dark eyes burned into your skin, searching desperately for answers. Why were you crying? Why were you sitting out in the middle of the camp, staring at the sky? When he glanced up, following your gaze, he caught sight of the Invincible. He mentally damned the ship.

Was it because of the ship that you were crying? Far too often to be healthy, he, too, stared up at the ship. He remembered the warp core. The mistakes he made, and the ones he caused.

He had no idea what you saw up there. You never spoke about it. Now he wished he had. He wished he asked. He wished he knew what worlds, what alternate realities, what different timelines you’d witnessed. Maybe then he could understand what was wrong.

“Cap…?”

Your eyes were red now. Your face crinkled with grief and sorrow, fighting back the onslaught of tears. You gasped in a shaky breath. Out came a whisper. He thought, perhaps, you would tell him about the things you’d seen. You witnessed thousands of deaths; he had, too. But that was not what came out of your mouth.

“I don’t remember my name.”

Mark was stunned. Shock and confusion overtook his body. Your name? Well, of course, your name was… It’s…

Confused and frustrated, he remembered the IDs on file for every single crew member. He sifted through so many every day, trying to keep track of who was who. It took a few taps on his wrist pad to pull up your ID. He skimmed it for himself before holding out his arm to show you.

The image was fairly recent, only from a few months ago. But you looked… brighter. Hopeful. Determined. Your hair was a little shorter then, too. The bags under your eyes from rigorous study weren’t as prominent as they were now. You looked like a hollow shell of who you once were.

And, yes, that was your name. Or… was it? Was it really your name after everything that had happened?

No. That was their name.

You shook your head and furiously wiped at the tears on your cheeks. Every crass name, criminal title, and disparaging nickname flooded your mind. No. They didn’t have those titles. They didn’t deserve the hatred and vitriol that followed you through that wormhole. They were not the Captain. And you were not them.

“That’s not my name anymore,” you croaked. You shook your head again. You looked like a child having a breakdown in kindergarten over a broken toy. “That’s- That’s not me anymore.”

Mark couldn’t say he really understood why. The image of you, all crooked grins and academy-fresh confidence, was you. He remembered you gushing to him over flying your first airplane, and going through the rigorous training of outer-space flying. He remembered because it was you who gave him the idea for all those stupid windows. When you gushed over being so close to the night sky you felt you could reach out and pluck Polaris right out of the inky black.

But when he looked from the picture to you? He was reminded of the hardships. How you jumped from universe to universe, wracking up casualties, just to save him. And he started to get it. You went through too much to be even near the same plane of existence as your young, naive self.

“Who am I, Mark?”

When you fell to press your face unceremoniously into his shoulder, he wasted no time wrapping you up in his arms. The ID flickered away as the screen turned off. He tried to hold on tight enough to physically stop you from shaking with your sobs, but it was impossible.

“You’re our Captain.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. But they were the only words he could find.

Anybody who passed by pretended they didn’t see anything. He hoped, anyway. He couldn’t meet their eyes. All he could do was hold on, as you had done for him once. Your sobs turned into stifled cries, and then only whimpers. He wasn’t concerned at first. In fact, he was a little relieved you were beginning to calm down. Until you became completely limp in his hold.

Even then, he still paused a second, before pulling you back until he could see your face. Had your skin always been so dull?

He shook you slightly. Maybe you were just sleeping, right? Your eyelids didn’t even flutter. Panic shot through his heart.

He shook you again, harder this time. No response.

“Captain?” Another shake, perhaps a little more vigorously than he intended. Your body was a rag doll, flopped in his lap. “No, no, no, you can’t close your eyes right now!”

His mind, scared and jumping to all the worst conclusions, raced to figure out what to do. He laid you on the ground and pressed an ear against your chest.

…

……

Okay. There’s a heartbeat. A little weaker than he thought was normal, but it was there. And your chest was moving, albeit slowly, with each breath. He pulled away. His hands, calloused with years of fiddling with wires and heavy machinery, floundered in the air. He didn’t know what to do.

Desperate cries for help, for Cici, for anyone were ripped from his lungs. He was gasping for air by the time half the camp rushed out to see what the commotion was. He couldn’t catch his breath until you were safe again.

He just needed you to be safe.

Word spread about the Captain’s health quickly. Mark couldn’t say he was surprised. Actually, he was sort of embarrassed.

That night - almost a week ago now - Celci had rushed to his side. She was the rational and cool-headed one. She commanded medics to grab a stretcher, to ready an IV, prepare a bed and equipment. All the while he screeched like a banshee, whaling for his old friend.

Uncharacteristically, though, she didn’t say a word about it. Nobody did. (Or, at least, not when he was within earshot.) She grabbed him a chair, some water and snacks, even a blanket. And as he sat by the Captain’s side, a permanent frown etched within his features, she kept him up to date on your condition and on the colony.

He knew his fears were wholly rational. After jumping through wormholes and witnessing first hand what consequences it brought, it was only natural for him to fret over the permanence of life now.

How stupid he’d been. Really. How many times did he grab your hand and jump back into the wormhole? More than he could count on one hand. The way he would be torn apart by a black hole or exploded by a supernova, and still step out of that pod with a giddy little grin, asking, almost begging, the Captain to jump in again. And again. And again.

Vaguely he remembered an airlock.

Neither of you were immortal now. Honestly, he hated immortality. It seems to amazing in theory…

He drags a hand down his face with a sigh. His shoulders are hunched. He leans his elbows against the edge of your bed.

He’s tired. Not like before. This wasn’t an exhaustion fueled by some silly false heroics or nonstop building of a catalyst to all your issues. No. He was exhausted with worry, and fear, and- God, emotions he didn’t even have words for. It all sat heavy in his soul.

Guilt, he decided to call it. But different. Guilt if it was slightly to the left.

Celci told him you just passed out from exhaustion and overworking yourself. Maybe he felt guilty for not picking up on it sooner, or for stopping you before it got so bad. It’s not as if the bags under your eyes were invisible, or that the way you carelessly rushed in to help every single person in need was subtle. He should have noticed.

Maybe then you would remember your name. Or, he thought back to your ID, believe you’re still you.

He wished his mind could shut up, for once.

A distraction. That’s what he needed, yeah.

He dragged his eyes from your face to your monitor. He was never very good with medical stuff. The numbers were odd. Was that blood pressure normal? Too high? Too low? Hell if he knew. Was your heart beating fast enough?

He contemplated for a brief moment the components that went into a monitor like that. The wires, connectors, screws, bolts, etc. And then he remembered this machine was making sure you were still alive. The idea of dismantling it was no longer appealing.

He turned to the IV next. A slow, continuous drip of fluids, hooked up to your arm. Needles always gave him a bad feeling. He felt nauseous looking at it.

Strange flowers caught his attention next. There were no roses or tulips or irises out here. Just… Well, they didn’t have names yet. The exobiologists were working on formulating latin names, genuses, and everything else that came with cataloging different flora. They were still beautiful, he couldn’t deny it. Bright orange petals with neon blue stamens that glowed at night. Razor-leaved stems that started as purple by the bloom and morphed into an odd black hue. They looked poisonous, actually. He was sure they wouldn’t be allowed in here if that was the case.

Paper was becoming a luxury at this point. Not that it mattered much, with everything accessible at the press of a button on their wrists. Still, they thought it would be best to ration out the remaining scraps throughout the colony. And everyone, seemingly unanimously, decided to use the rare material to write get well soon cards.

The little folds of parchment filled every possible surface. With 100,003 people writing get well and thank you, at some point the excess of good will notes had to be tucked away in a bin to be read later. He caught a nurse, once, rotating out the cards.

His frown softened when he thought of the very human way in which they cared about you. How human to utilize a precious resource just to say Thank you, wake up soon. How human to see something beautiful in nature, and to display it tenderly next to you. We found something beautiful, it made us think of you. How very human for those who stopped by, who saw him ever at your side like a steadfast protector, rested a hand on his shoulder or patted him on the back. You are not alone in your pain.

He wished, desperately, that you could be awake to witness the love humanity so freely handed out. Maybe then you could rediscover who you were.

“You look like shit.”

Mark startled awake. When did he fall asleep? Ah, dammit, it was dark outside. He must have been out for hours. He scrubbed at the exhaustion crusting his eyelids shut.

Wait…

His body froze. He was too scared to breathe. His heart was racing.

He couldn’t have heard that. He couldn’t have.

Heart in his throat, he slowly removed his hand from his eye and dragged his eye along your frame, still tucked safely under the blanket. Sure enough, when he finally reached your face, there was a smug grin waiting for him.

And with a jolt, his body came back to life.

You watched, half-amused as Mark threw himself from his chair to press a Call Nurse button on the opposite side of your bed. His eyes were wide and frantic. His hair was a mess. Bags under his eyes carried the weight of the world, tears of relief slipping down his cheeks before he could even think to stop them.

“You’re- You’re awake!” he croaked. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your shoulders. They were trembling.

You tried to reach up to hold onto his shoulder, maybe even his face to feel his concerning amount of stubble, but it felt so heavy. You held onto his forearm instead. “How long-?”

Celci came storming in, looking about as frantic as Mark, but better put together. Once she saw you were conscious, her expression morphed to be somewhere between joy and fury. Uh oh.

“Captain!” The only freedom from her intense stare came when she checked your vitals. Mark backed away so she had plenty of room to do so, but he kept a hand on one of your shoulders. He couldn’t pull himself away just yet. “I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’, but I told you this was going to happen if you kept pushing yourself so hard!”

“What exactly happened?”

The cryonics lead faltered. Mark gave her a pleading look. She realized, for the first time since stepping in here, that he had been- no, was crying. She had never seen him cry before.

Celci sighed and tapped a few things into her wrist pad. “I’m assigning you to bedrest and low-effort work until you decide to put your needs before those of the colony.” She leveled you with a concerned stare. “The colony needs you, Captain. You can’t be everywhere at once, helping with every last fiber of your being, no matter how much you want to. Let the rest of us carry the responsibilities we were sent here to carry.”

Mark turned away to wipe away his tears before she could glare at him next and give him a lecture, too. She huffed, nodded to you with a Captain, and left.

The air was thick. Things unsaid hung around in the air like dust caught in a sunbeam - everywhere you look and hard to ignore.

Mark didn’t look at you as he tried to gather himself together. The motes would continue lingering until he was ready to answer your questions.

Deciding to give him some space (as much as you could while bedridden), you looked to the side. The hordes of cards was utterly overwhelming. Each one was different from the next. Some had Captain written on the front in neat cursive, heavy-handed scrawls, or chicken scratch. Some people did their ‘C’s differently, or slurred their writing together in their plain-text handwriting. Other cards simple said Get well soon! or Feel better! You could see small paragraphs of writing inside the folds.

A rush of warmth flooded your chest. All of the command leads, all of the colonists - everyone thought about you. Maybe the idea of being thought of was just so foreign, but you didn’t think in any earnest capacity that this many people would care. The Leads, sure, you spent so much time with them up on the ship (more than they realized), but the most contact the vast majority of the colonists had with you was the simple welcome you gave them as they were thawed. And yet. Despite it all. Everyone had left a card.

Everyone cared about you.

The warm feeling in your chest turned sour as you remembered your conversation with Mark last night. (Was it last night?) The way the stars glimmered back without a care for you. The way you squeezed that protein bar so tight it became mush in its package. The way Mark held you.

I don’t remember my name.

Who am I, Mark?

You squeezed his arm, as much as you could in your weakened state.

You’re our Captain.

Reddened eyes met yours. His eyes were so dark, but they held a thousand thoughts, emotions, and ideas behind them. You remembered looking into those eyes, as you held onto him, refused to let him go even as he called you hateful names and ripped the crystal from your palm.

“You’ve been asleep for a week.” He sniffed. His hand trembled as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cici said… You were overworking yourself, pushing yourself past your limit just to be there for everybody, and you weren’t taking care of yourself like you should have been and she said-” He swallowed thickly, fighting to speak through the lump in his throat. “You could have died.”

Oh. It had been that bad? You couldn’t recall feeling weak. Though, maybe it was from the endless running you did during the warp core fiasco. How long had you been awake during that endless nightmare? Your body had recovered once the cycle was broken, but your mind…

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. His shoulders fell. “I didn’t…” Your voice was quiet, almost too soft to be a whisper. As if you were afraid to say what was on your mind. “When we were in the wormhole, I was so tired. We both were. But it’s like, I don’t even know what it’s like to feel tired anymore, because nothing compares to what happened.”

You looked up at him, like a child seeking approval. In your eyes, he saw universes colliding, supernovas, and someone who never gave up hope. For the briefest hint of a second, he saw that same determined graduate from the ID.

“Does that make sense?”

He nodded without thinking. His hand left your shoulder, following the length of your arm to hold your hand. You didn’t have gloves on. It was… odd. He ignored the calloused scar that brushed against his palm. “I feel the same. I remember building the… it. I didn’t sleep at all, then. And now that I can, it feels… wrong. I’m not tired, but I am. I can’t explain it better than that.”

“I think we both need a nap.”

He huffed. It was nice to see him smile again. “On your orders, Captain.” His grin flickered, eyes darkened. “If you’d like, you can choose a different name. It wouldn’t be too hard to change your ID.”

“No,” you said. You smiled. “You were right, all along.”

“About what?”

“I’m your Captain.”

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

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jeannereames · 1 year ago

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If you could change or insert one aspect of the common pop culture picture most people have in their heads when they think about ATG what would it be?

I'm going to jump this in the queue because I can answer it swiftly, but also because I have TWO things that are personal pet peeves.

FIRST: That "historians" keep insisting Alexander and Hephaistion were "just good friends" in the face of obvious evidence to the contrary.

SECOND: Alexander called Hephaistion his Patroklos (to his own Achilles), and they used this comparison frequently throughout their lives.

So, let’s take on the “Fake News,” shall we?

The notion that "historians" keep insisting Alexander and Hephaistion were "just good friends" in the face of what would seem clear evidence to the contrary is over 50 fucking years out of date.

Are there “historians” out there who say that? Sure. But they tend to come in two flavors: 1) people who aren’t specialists, Hellenists, or even historians,⸸ or 2) Greeks.* Since Badian, Green, Hamilton, and Schachermeyer (et al.) took over Macedonian/Alexander studies mid-century, few specialists claimed Alexander and Hephaistion couldn’t have been lovers, or Alexander couldn’t have been attracted to men. Even Hammond cagily acknowledged it.

Yet—TBH—I don't think those who repost that meme really care. They just want a convenient strawman/whipping horse to make them sound "smarter than the experts."

You don't. You sound as if you haven't read much about Alexander since about 1975. Historians who have died of old age by now said Alexander and Hephaistion were probably lovers.

But that raises another problem: the implication that anybody who might argue they aren't lovers must be an old, white homophobic dude. Again, this is wrong.

The current discussion centers more on source problems, and separates Alexander having male lovers from Alexander and Hephaistion being lovers themselves (not the same thing, actually). Those making the best argument for caution are young, very much not homophobic (but absolutely brilliant) women (e.g., Sabine Müller). Follow the link to see a picture of Sabine, if you don’t believe me. I don't agree with her, but you can't shoot down her argument by screaming "Homophobe!" at the top of your lungs. The points she raises are all good ones and any responsible (and smart) historian will take them seriously.

As for the Alexander-Achilles/Hephaistion-Patroklos pastiche… yeah, sorry, no.

I realize this torques off folks, as it’s become a mainstay of queer culture surrounding Alexander as a gay icon and owes more than a little to Miller’s The Song of Achilles.

Busting it probably makes me sound like a Grinch.

BUT…the facts just don't support it. Yes, Alexander compared himself to Achilles--but not as much as to Herakles and Dionysos. Not even close.

How do I know? I COUNTED THEM. Facts ... not impressions.

After all, looking closely at what the sources (not impressions) actually say about Hephaistion is how I came to the conclusion the man was a lot more important than heretofore recognized. 😉

Again, as I’ve said elsewhere, Alexander did compare himself to Achilles. That’s not in dispute … it just wasn’t as frequent or common as modern fans like to pretend. And Hephaistion was compared to Patroklos only twice. There’s also a problem with WHO made those comparisons: chiefly Arrian. Again, I’ve talked about this elsewhere, so won’t go over it again.

Yes, I made the comparison myself in Dancing with the Lion: Becoming. But it concerned one circumstance near that book’s end (not giving spoilers), and isn’t something they harped on otherwise. That mirrors how it appears in our sources: it’s limited, and situational.

“Patroklos” was not Hephaistion’s nickname. Wish folks would stop claiming it was.

—————

⸸ Just because somebody is tagged “historian” on a History Channel special—or his own private blog—doesn’t mean they actually have a PhD, or even a Master’s, much less one in ancient history, Classics, Classical archaeology, or ancient art history. The number of idiots on Tik-tok yapping about how Alexander thought this or did that—and clearly know jack shit—routinely stuns me…even while it doesn’t. Dunning-Kruger Effect all over the damn place.

* Greeks must often work within the confines of official narratives in order to secure jobs and funding, which can limit what they say on certain topics, from who’s buried in “Philip’s Tomb,” to the Greekness of the ancient Macedonians, to any possible homosexual “taint” staining Alexander’s greatness. This may swim against the current of academic discourse outside Greece, even by other Greeks. The Greek Ministry of Culture and Sport has softened on some of these topics in recent years, especially as LGBTQIA rights have gained better traction in Greece.

#asks #Alexander the Great #Alexander memes #Alexander in pop culture #Myths about Alexander in pop culture #Hephaistion #Hephaestion #Classics #what “real” historians actually say #ancient history #ancient Macedonia #ancient Greece

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