#thanks for telling me his story!

[pampanope]

Pixel and Oak belong to @pixel11-18 :3c

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon (later suri laran, after her marriage). her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, but most of her life for like. the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[croakings]

i apologize for mithrunposting incessantly but honestly if any of you expected better of me you shouldn't have

anyway i get it and some of the failguy jokes are funny. i can tell that nothing i've run into is even malicious. but also it would be really cool and awesome if there were simply less posts calling a disabled person a failure or baby or a dog or whatever for needing accommodation or extra help, especially when like. hey did you know the source material very on purpose did not do anything remotely like that. critical thinking question: could there be some reasons these phrases are not great, potentially

[purplebehittindifferent]

somebody's making a fanfiction of your fanfiction of your webcomic on ao3

OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING! STAY CALM! NOBODY PANIC!!!

I SAID STAY CALM!!!!!!!

(Does anyone know this persons @ on tumblr???? Ty)

[moeblob]

Look, I just think it's VERY funny and on brand that I thought of an entire premise of colorful characters for half the cast and immediately drew the only one void of color.

[deadandphilgames]

happy phanniversary to all whose first dnp video was basically im gay

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // forty-six

next / previous / beginning

KYRIE: Al? ALPHANEI: There you are. I thought you’d never wake. KYRIE: Wake? No… I’m… I’m dreaming. You’re gone. ALPHANEI: So I am. And you’re losing faith. KYRIE: I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you. Everything feels so out of my control. ALPHANEI: I know. KYRIE: Tell me where you are. Tell me how to find you. ALPHANEI: Not this time, little brother. KYRIE: But— ALPHANEI: It’s like I always told you. The Moon watches over us, and only she knows the way. KYRIE: Don’t give me that nonsense. The Moon has never done anything for us. Even now, I can’t see a damn thing. If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be somewhere else, living normal lives, and you’d be safe. ALPHANEI: Is it really true that she gives us nothing? Do you think you’d be happier never knowing them? KYRIE: I… ALPHANEI: It’s not a perfect life, but it was ours. KYRIE: We deserved better. ALPHANEI: So many of us do. Do not forget what drives the Selenehelion, truly. All those wishes longing to be granted. I know you hear them, too. KYRIE: And all the pain? All the suffering it’s caused? ALPHANEI: Mm. Remember it, Kyrie. When the time is right, you will find your way to me. 

[renjunnipeikko]

i don’t play hsr but from what i’ve gathered-

they say to find someone who matches your freak but it turns out dan feng outfreaked everyone so yingxing was like “fuck! i have to catch up!” except dan heng isn’t that level of freak so now blade is like “wtf??? you can’t just do that????” and is forcing dan heng to be that level of freak otherwise blade will keep killing more people

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[seaweedstarshine]

Thinking about the convolution of Eleventh Doctor's expressions of love for River Song in Season 7B. He does not trust Clara. He is utterly (wrongly) convinced that he and Clara are playing a grand manipulative game together. “What are you, eh?! A trick? A trap?!!”

So naturally, the last thing he should do in this game is to clue his opponent in on something that could be used to hurt him. Something like River, so painfully near the end of their time together, whose data ghost he can always see, who “it would hurt too much” to acknowledge. He can't let Clara know of the loss which constantly floods his senses; (“You are always here to me. And I always listen, and I can always see you,” he professes, once Clara has vanished into his timestream).

And yet. River fills his every moment (irregardless of any sneaking out for dates with increasingly-young Rivers while Clara is asleep like he did while the Ponds slept, which would explain his absence when the TARDIS is hiding Clara's bedroom). Even though it's not strategic, he can’t help but tell Clara about her. The best defense he can manage is to phrase it as if River isn’t as important to him as she is. Not only is avoiding her first name in his grief; he's also completely avoiding pronouns; which seems extreme given that he's still mentioning her as often as: “Oh yeah, of course he has! Professor Song! Sorry, it's just I never realized you were a woman.”

Leave out the emotion — leave out the details — don't show the cracks in the armor — play the part — win the game.

“Well, there's no point now. We're about to die. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.”

[tangledinink]

i want desperately for you guys to know that this is how swanatello was born. he was designed and drawn in a span of approximately 30 minutes at work and made originally with the only intention being "pun." thanks @actuallynobutwhynot for getting me to make him lmao i gotta draw him and your sona together sometime.

[writereleaserepeat]

This last month I've been enamored by @sowhumpshaped's interactive whump story, "Stray." It came to a beautiful end just a few days ago, and I was inspired to come out of the woodwork long enough to write a little fanfic. Make sure to go read their story before continuing here! It's a lovely work of art and I had so much fun seeing where it went. I miss the daily updates already!

This story is set twenty years after the main storyline of "Stray," and ten years after total pet liberation. It takes place in I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Disneyworld, and it features our MC (you!) meeting a ghost from their past.

CW: mentions of pet whump, second person POV, swearing

WC: ~2250

You run your tongue along the mountain of sweet vanilla cream, savoring its delicate flavor as it slowly melts in your mouth. With how much this ice cream cost, you were determined to enjoy every moment of its blissful respite from the summer heat. The mouse might know how to mark up its sweets, but it wouldn't steal away your enjoyment of this day, not even with an ice cream cone that cost an arm and a leg.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the sight of the ride coming to a halt beyond the fence. The harnesses begin to release and the children start pouring towards the exit, all smiles and laughters as they rush to find their parents on the other side. Your daughter is easy to spot, a tall girl - god, when did she get so tall? - with a glowing, gap-toothed smile.

Much to your surprise, she comes to greet you with another girl in tow, a child whose face reminds you of someone you can't place, their eyes sparkling with a hint of familiarity. A celebrity, maybe?

You don't have any more time to ponder before your daughter begins talking. She holds the other girl’s hand, a child who couldn’t have been a year older than her, and all but pulls her up to greet you.

"This is Delaney, we were on the ride together! She's so nice," Libby speaks in that same pleading tone you're never able to resist. "Please, please, please can we go to the next ride together?"

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” you say as sympathetically as you can, putting a palm on Libby's head. “We need to ask Delaney’s grown-up first.”

“My dad will say it’s okay,” Delaney says with a vigorous nod, “he’s right over there!”

She points towards a man striding in your direction, his hair long, but his gait familiar. As he brushes the hair from in front of his eyes, you freeze. You know those eyes. You’ll never forget those eyes, even if they’re set deeper in wrinkles now.

The world stops. For one painful moment, you don’t even feel your heart beat. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

But it wasn’t. You draw a breath, a deep breath that pushes hard against your ribs. You’re free. All the pets are free now, and they have been free for ten years. It had been another ten years before that since you’d last seen Rayan.

He recognizes you too, you can tell in the way his jaw slackens, dumbfounded. That glitter of recognition continues as he finally stumbles into earshot and his tongue begins to work.

“Thirt-"

“Not in front of my daughter,” you hiss, leaning in towards his ear as you do so. “Not in front of my fucking daughter.” You keep a smile on your face, only just, so your child doesn’t have to see you fall apart before her eyes.

He seems startled, startled enough to shut up for one moment. But silence had never been his strong suit, you could remember that much, the way he'd ramble on and on after his volunteer shifts. You'd always let him talk - not today. The dynamic had shifted. Today, you look him in the eyes as an equal.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Papa!” Delaney interjects, cutting Rayan off a second time. “I met this girl on the ride, her name’s Libby, she’s super fun, and super nice, and we want to go on another ride together.” She tugs on Rayan’s arm, but he doesn’t look down.

“Actually,” you say, pulling your daughter close to you, “I think we need to go catch up with Libby’s little brother and my partner.”

“Please?” Libby pleads again, staring at you with those doe eyes that always melt your heart. “Just one ride. It can be this one, we can do it again, we don’t even have to walk anywhere.”

Fuck.

What was almost twenty years of therapy worth if you couldn’t stand next to Rayan for another five minutes? You’d imagined talking to him a thousand times over, you’d thought painstakingly about what you’d say to him if you ever could, you'd prayed to his memory as much as you'd cursed it. But now, all you want is to walk away and never look at him again.

No more running. You'd promised yourself that almost two decades ago, and hell if you couldn't carry through with that promise today, especially with a family that needed you.

“Okay,” you concede, forcing a smile at Libby. She would never see you falter, not now, not ever. “You can ride this same ride one more time, just once, and only if you use your QuickCard to skip the line. We don’t want to get too far behind the rest of the family.”

“Sure,” Rayan says, voice measured. He smiles down at Delaney as well, but you can tell it's forced. “You can go too. Don’t forget, you only have three more taps on your QuickCard.”

“That’s okay!” Delaney chirps, already pulling Libby towards the line. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

And as the girls run in a tangle of limbs and laughter back into the ride's entrance, you’re left alone next to Rayan. The silence weighs heavily on your shoulders, and you feel the ice cream beginning to melt between your fingers. Then it's just you and Rayan, alone.

Not literally alone. You two are the furthest from alone you ever could be, stood next to a swinging steel pirate ship, amidst a park milling with tens of thousands of other people. But you can hardly hear the screams, the voices, the mechanical groans of the rides. Rayan’s presence next to you is suffocating.

You say nothing yet. What is there to say? You’ve said it all a million times before. To the shower walls, to your therapist, to the darkened skies in the early dawn. But none of it had ever compared to what you feel right now.

Something like hope begins to itch in your chest. Maybe this would give you closure, real closure, not the metaphorical closing of a book at the end of a therapy session. You've craved closure for so long. Could Rayan finally be this holy grail?

“I’m sorry,” Rayan says. If you didn’t know better, his voice sounded on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry for everything.”

His swallow is louder than even the most cacophonous thunderstorm. He continues, tripping over his words, falling over himself with every syllable.

“Look, I was just doing my best. I mean, you were a kid, and I was basically still a kid too, and I was doing what I thought was best, just trying to help, you know? It’s been twenty years and I’ve never forgotten your face. And I mean, look at you now, here with your kids, this is what all the freed pets wanted, isn’t it? The chance to live like this?”

In that moment you know what you need from Rayan. It's what you've needed from him all along, even if you couldn't name it before now.

“Say it,” you mumble, struggling to find your voice. That hope for closure, god, you can feel it, you need it, and-

“What?”

“Say it,” you growl, more firmly this time. “You know what I need you to say.”

“Look, thir- whatever name you chose, I don’t know what you want from me.”

You finally look him in the eyes again.

“Say that I’m a person. Tell me that I’m a person.”

“Of course you are,” Rayan begins, and you watch him hold up his hands as he fights against his tongue's knots. “That’s what the Decree says. All pets had their legal status changed to reflect their unequivocal personhood.”

“That’s not what I asked. I know my pet lib history - likely better than you do. I want you to tell me that I, me, the living being standing in front of you, is a person.”

That nervous look in Rayan’s eyes tells you everything you need to know. The pregnant pause that follows is just painful confirmation. There would be no closure here for you today.

“Pathetic.” It takes all of your strength not to slap him in the face. “Twenty years and you haven’t learned a damn thing. The rest of the world has moved on from that nonsense and you can’t take five seconds to pull your head out of your ass.”

“Look," another swallow as Rayan wrings his hands. “Yeah, it’s been ten years, and still, there’s these studies, right? I'm sure they taught you to read in the, uh, the rehabilitation classes. There's studies that shows the pets that were liberated, they just aren't adapting to society as people do, you know? They don't excel at their jobs, they don't succeed in forming traditional family units, they engage in crime and anti-social behavior at much higher rates..."

You scoff and roll your eyes. All you can feel is the bile thick in your throat. Those studies, those lies, that propaganda, it would never stop. And people like Rayan would never stop feeding on it. You knew this, hell, you taught about it, at your community college's pet lib program. There would always be someone with an interest in the tyranny over 'pets,' be it emotional or financial, and it would succeed as long as people like Rayan were stupid enough to buy it.

"Look," Rayan says, putting his hands on the nearby railing as he looks away from you, "all I'm saying is, if you're a good- as good a soul as I think you are, you'd want what's best for your daughter, right? And, and maybe, well, maybe what's best for your family is how things used to be. You don't know for sure that things are better now. What if you're denying your family the chance to be taken care of, to truly thrive? What if they're not meant to be taken care of by, ah, by something like you?"

For a moment you think about striking him. You think about taking him to the ground, right there in the middle of the theme park, and pummeling him senseless. You want to beat that nonsense right out of his skull.

But that would prove his point, wouldn't it?

No. You know you can't do that. You can't wait for your daughter to come back and see your knuckles bloodied, this stranger choking on his own teeeth, your face contorted into an unfamiliar visage of rage. You weren't going to be a monster.

"You disgust me." The words are stickier than honey on your tongue. "Your vapid platitudes mean nothing. Your saviour complex has kept you stuck in the past while the rest of society is growing and learning from our sins. I'll always be grateful that you dragged me out of the trash that one day, and I'll always be grateful that you kept a roof over my head long enough for me to find my liberation. But I owe you nothing, not now, not ever again. I have my personhood - I always have. It's a shame you aren't using yours for something more meaningful."

You see a flash of pink out of the corner of your eye. Libby was coming back, running hand-in-hand with Delaney, that same joyful smile on her face. The smile of a child who had never seen the tyranny of the system you'd oncee been subdued by. The smile of a child who would learn just how important their personhood was, and always would be.

"Libby, darling, we need to go," you say as she comes within earshot. Your tongue is dry and sticky in your throat, and you need a drink of water. Your partner has water, wherever they are in the park now. You want to go to them now, seek the affirmation of everything you'd built in the time since you'd left Rayan behind all those years ago. You want to feel their comforting touch, something to ground you, to remind you of who you are. Who you've always been.

A good person.

Libby seems to wilt a bit, dejectedly dropping Delaney's hand from her own.

"Aw, but-"

"No buts. It's time to see what your brother is up to, and we have a lot of rides to catch before the day is over."

She pauses for a moment, and you can see her thinking it over. After another second she nods, seemingly convinced.

"Okay, as long as you promise to come on the next roller coaster with me."

"I promise," you say, reaching out a pinkie towards her. She hooks her pinkie in yours, and you take the opportunity to pull her close to you, away from Rayan, and away from the child he will undoubtedly raise to think just like him.

"Bye, Delaney! We're friends forever, okay?" Libby shouts over her shoulder as you begin to walk away.

"Bye Libby! Forever!" Delaney replies, giggling as she waves.

Your eyes meet Rayan's one last time. They're clouded with emotion, his lips pressed in a thin line. In spite of yourself, you smile at him once, and turn away.

"Alright, sweetheart," you speak to your daughter as the door to your past slams shut behind you. "Let's go have some more fun. We've got the whole day ahead of us."

[quietwingsinthesky]

combining little amelia pond in the tardis with the tardis family au and trying to figure out which members would be pro and against child endangerment.

[coquelicoq]

raksura for the ask meme?

YAY

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) moon was designed in a lab to appeal to me personally, so. it's about the trust issues!

scrunkly (my "baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) the sky copper clutch!! traumatized children imprinting on a guy with baby fever is usually what i go to fanfic for so to have it right there in canon? incredible. i love all of frost's little tantrums and idk, just the way that she claims moon as her family in a way that has nothing to do with court politics? she's like, we're your clutch, obviously. and this is our court because it's your court, and all the other jabronis who live here are on thin ice. she's ready to throw down with moon's wife/the government at all hours of the day and she's like six years old. i love that moon has that energy in his life even though he personally is pretty confused and exhausted by it lol.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) it's hard out here for an ember stan because he is in so few scenes relative to the space he occupies in my psyche! i need 5000% more interactions between him and moon. him and stone. him and shade. him and river. him and the teachers. him and the clutches. him and jade and balm and chime. oh my god him and malachite? him and celadon? him and delin??

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) niran. i'm always up for a "longsuffering ship captain resigns himself to another restless night of hearing gigantic shapeshifters with incredible stamina fuck nasty on the roof of his cabin" moment. technically i have never been in that exact situation, but i feel like i can relate.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) river who is CLASSIC poor little meow meow territory like yes his whole personality is being a grade A asshole and sure he tries to kill my blorbo a few times, but once you get to know him he's so sad and pathetic that i'm kind of like okay where can i sign up to defend him from the largely factual aspersions of his dozens of quite frankly justified haters? he'd hate that. the good shit 👌

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) stone. every time he crankily says "why did i ever reproduce" upon finding himself entangled in yet another ridiculous clusterfuck thanks to one of his hundreds of idiot great-great-great-great-great grandchildren, an angel gets its wings. he's depressed and antisocial but he can't totally check out because he has to mediate relationship issues between his dumbass relatives. love that for him.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) malachite but specifically because malachite would not be scared of superhell. she'd skulk around being invisible, maybe fuck some shit up if she felt like it, and leave when she got bored. she probably makes it like. opal night's sister city or something. and nobody in the court is at all phased. yeah that's our reigning queen who recently got back from vacation in superhell. she does that. she says it's relaxing.

[commsroom]

Hi, you’ve probably already addressed this at some point and I’ve simply missed it, but what’s your thoughts on Hera’s ending? (Particularly, how Pryce just removes the ‘I can’t do this, I’m not good enough’ line, and she stops glitching?) Personally it always felt rather… bad, honestly, given the whole “they could’ve made me better, they made me me” thing, if that makes sense?

hi! first: that absolutely makes sense, and i'm also very sensitive to anything that seems to "fix" disability or trauma, so i understand where you're coming from. that was not personally my takeaway about hera in the finale; i'll try to explain why:

pryce didn't remove that loop from hera's head. i don't think she could have - even if it's technically possible for her to do (and she is capable of a lot more than maxwell), she just had her mind wiped and wouldn't have access to that information, and even if she did retain it on an instinctual level, that would require allowing pryce access to the most vulnerable parts of hera's mind. and she would never allow that. there's a reason pryce is still a prisoner.

hera speaks to pryce not for reconciliation, but for reclamation. she's lived her whole life in fear of what pryce (and people like pryce) can do to her, with every aspect of who she is and what she does controlled and dictated by anyone with power over her. the finale opens with pryce telling her life's story from her perspective - at once self-mythologizing and self-victimizing - and, the final time we ever hear from or about pryce, hera is about to tell her own story. we never find out what was actually said, or how pryce reacted, because it doesn't matter. hera gets to take control of her own narrative. hera gets to confront her abuser, and feel in control and safe from harm.

it's worth keeping in mind that hera doesn't glitch consistently. that's one of the things i think also makes it a useful comparison to chronic illness. when, why, and how much hera glitches was an intentionally crafted part of the sound design. it happens more often, and more intensely, when she's stressed out, overwhelmed, or upset.

and, with that in mind... the ending leaves the characters on a generally positive note, because it's the end of the show and that's the feeling it wants to leave you with: that everything will be more or less okay, in the end. but it isn't the end of their lives. once they get back to earth, a lot of things are going to be very difficult for hera. even in the final scene, she says she's not ready to go back, but "when has that ever stopped us before?" when she's able to honestly say she's good, i don't think that means she's good forever. just, in that moment, that's a crucial step in her healing process, and i hope in the future she'll have a lot more moments that feel like that one.

[akkivee]

🙂↕️🙂↕️okay okay okay so so far within the og divisions we have:

❤️: they strive for a world where words solve conflict. they pointedly did not use mics to express this. at the end of the track, they’re dynamic as brothers has shifted to a more equal dynamic, where ichiro doesn’t feel so compelled to raise them

💙: they strive for a world without violence and used their mics to resolve the conflict. at the end of the track, they reject their status quo and aim to find a new one to change the world without the use of violence

💛: wanted to be real with each other and used their mics to get that across. at the end of the track tho, they say that truth doesn’t really matter anyway and stay true to the selves they formed their bond with

🩶: a battle of wills using the mics. jakurai’s love for yotsutsuji manifested in the form of sacrificing himself and dohifu trying to stop him using their love for their bond as mtr. at the end of the track it’s that love that’s saved jakurai, healed hifumi and elevated doppo’s status at work

and things have changed for all they’ve stayed the same so i’m genuinely curious where nagosaka fits in this lol