#that's basically what their fight on the bridge is meant to show

[belit0]

Can you do some headcanons about the Uchiha men getting drunk, shouting from the rooftops how much they love their S/O, and not remembering it the next day?

These men losing control… delight

Indra

Unlike the others, Indra does not stumble around shouting his love like a fool. No, his drunken state manifests in something far more terrifying—control.

He summons his entire village, warriors and civilians alike, assuming he is about to give an important war directive. No one dares to disobey.

His expression is severe, unreadable. His arms are crossed, his presence as oppressive as ever. The villagers feel an impending sense of doom, half-expecting him to announce an incoming invasion.

(Y/N) arrives, confused and horrified, just as Indra begins his speech—an intense, unyielding, deeply poetic declaration of his love for her.

-There are things in this world that can never be undone. The tide will rise, the sun will fall, the gods will claim what they believe is theirs— His voice is measured, terrifyingly serious, carrying the weight of something irrevocable.

The villagers stand frozen in fear. Some look ready to kneel. Others wonder if they should be sharpening their blades.

-And yet, should any divine hand dare to reach for what is mine, I will break them.- Gasps. Horrified stares. Someone might actually faint.

-Fate itself may weave its threads, but should it attempt to sever this bond— His gaze shifts to (Y/N), eyes locking onto her like an unshakable vow. —I will tear it apart, thread by thread, until destiny itself bows before me.-

The villagers are absolutely petrified. Is this a declaration of war against the gods...?

-The moon may watch over her, the gods may whisper her name, but let them try to take her from my grasp.- His jaw tightens, fingers flexing as if already prepared to strike down the heavens themselves. Absolute silence. No one moves. No one breathes. (Y/N) wants the earth to swallow her whole.

-Did—did Lord Indra just declare war on the gods? Over a woman?- someone whispers in horror.

The next morning, (Y/N) confronts him.

-You don’t remember, do you?- she asks, arms crossed.

Indra narrows his eyes. -If I said it, I meant it.-

She groans into her hands.

Madara

Madara rarely lost control, but when he did, he went all out.

He stood on the rooftop, mad and aggressive, arms wide open, Sharingan active, shouting at the entire district, -I LOVE HER, I CLAIM HER, I TAKE HER. I, UCHIHA MADARA, LEADER OF THE UCHIHA CLAN, CLAIM THIS WOMAN, MY WOMAN, FOR THE ETERNITY OF TIME. ANYONE WHO THINKS OTHERWISE—COME, FACE ME IN BATTLE!-

A horrified (Y/N) tried to drag him down, but he dramatically turned to her, gripping her shoulders. -You don’t understand, woman. The world must know... they! I! ... I would burn it down if it meant keeping you safe!-

Izuna, equally drunk, cheered from the ground, -HELL YEAH, BROTHER!-

The next morning, Madara woke up with a pounding headache.

-My... -huh- my throat... hurts...-

-Might be because you spent two hours shouting about how you’d fight the entire world for me.-

-Ah... worth it....-

Izuna

Izuna gets extra theatrical when drunk. And he loves to put on a good show.

-EVERYONE LISTEN! I, IZUNA UCHIHA, AM THE LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE! DOESN'T MATTER HOW MANY WOMEN PASSED THROUGH THIS BODY, THAT GIRL, THAT WORK OF ART STANDING THERE, IS MY OWNER, THE GODDESS I WORSHIP, DEDICATE MYSELF TO, AND OWE EVERYTHING TO! THE VERY IZUNA HAS FOUND TRUE LOVE!-

He nearly fell off the roof in his dramatic declaration but caught himself last minute, pointing at (Y/N) with glassy, determined eyes. -SHE. IS. PERFECT. LOOK AT HER. HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A WOMAN SO STUNNING? SO FIERCE? SO—SO VIOLENTLY BEAUTIFUL?-

He stands there expectantly, seeking applause and recognition, lacking the basic ability to notice the scene he is creating in front of everyone. Even Madara remains silent, pinching the bridge of his nose.

(Y/N) tries to disappear, but it is her brother-in-law who stops her and whispers, -If I must endure this calamity for being his older brother, you must as well, for being his wife.-

When some unfortunate soul murmured something about her being too good for him, he leaped down, tackled them, and demanded a duel on the spot.

The next morning, he woke up bruised and confused.

(Y/N) stared down at him, unimpressed. -You challenged a civilian to a fight last night.-

He groaned, rubbing his forehead. -…Did I win?-

Obito

Drunk Obito = hysterical, emotional wreck.

He clambered onto the rooftop, tears in his eyes, clutching his chest like a lovesick poet.

-(Y/N)!- he screamed, voice cracking. -HOW DID I GET SO LUCKY? YOU’RE—YOU’RE—!- He choked on his own breath, wiping at his face, completely overwhelmed by his own feelings.

He is a mess of snot, strength, height, and emotional fragility. His screams crack into childlike sobs, generating mixed reactions from the audience watching him. Many do not understand his words, as coherence has abandoned the scene since his first drink.

-(Y/N), I love you so much I think I might actually die!-

When she tried to pull him down before he embarrassed himself further, he collapsed into her arms, clutching at her clothes, sobbing. -DO YOU LOVE ME TOO? PLEASE SAY YES, I DON’T THINK I CAN HANDLE IT OTHERWISE—

The next morning, he woke up, eyes swollen, shirt mysteriously missing.

(Y/N) just shook her head. -You cried so much I thought you’d dehydrate and die in my arms.-

Obito turned bright red, horrified. -…I think I need to leave the village.-

Shisui

Shisui? Loud.

-I LOVE HER! I LOVE HER! I LOVE HER!- He chanted from the rooftops, dancing, spinning, absolutely reveling in his own joy.

Even jumps down at one point, landing clumsily and holding onto the shoulders of a poor stranger. He starts shouting at him, shaking him, illustrating to that poor man the immeasurable extent of his love for her -YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! JUST- JUST LOOK AT HER, SIR! PLEASE-

And although his mind is lost in the alcohol, his body has the clumsy reflexes of a ninja defeated after days of war. When (Y/N) is about to catch him, he uses his Shunshin to move back to the roof, dramatically disarming himself in his joy and love for her.

-(Y/N), YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU!- He pointed at random villagers. -LOOK AT HER! SHE’S A GODDESS! A QUEEN! A BLESSING UPON THIS EARTH!-

When she finally climbed up to stop him, he grabbed her and twirled her around, beaming.

-I CAN’T BELIEVE I GET TO LOVE YOU! ME! THIS UGLY, LUCKY FOOL! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YOU?!-

The next morning, he woke up, zero recollection.

-(Y/N), why are my legs sore?-

She sighed. -You danced on the rooftops for two hours.-

He groaned. -…Did I at least look good doing it?-

Itachi

Itachi, usually quiet and composed, was dangerous when drunk.

-I must tell her.-

-Itachi, no—

-I must tell her NOW.-

He vanished in a blur of movement, reappearing on the rooftop.

-(Y/N),- he called, smooth, intense, unwavering.

The way he said her name made everyone stop and listen.

-I am yours,- he said, as if reciting a sacred vow. -Utterly, completely, eternally. If you asked me to burn the world, I would. If you asked me to rebuild it, I would.-

Dead silence followed.

(Y/N), completely floored.

The next morning, Itachi woke up with zero memory.

(Y/N) just stared at him. -Do you remember… anything from last night?-

He blinked, slow. -No.-

-…So if I tell you that you swore eternal devotion to me in front of the entire district, you’d think I was lying?-

He considered her words. Then, calmly, -It seems like something I would say. Was it convincing?-

[galedekarios]

seeing a post that basically confirmed the obvious disparity in content made me think more about a scene i would have liked to see with gale and that i've been thinking about for a while now.

i always felt a bit sad that his condition is so often treated as a joke by the fandom and to a lesser extent by the game itself. i always thought that this is partially down to the fact that we don't truly get so see gale actively be in pain due to his condition, other than brief glimpses and hints:

we do hear the urgency in his voice when he explains when and why he needs an artefact and the relief in his voice when the protag chooses to help him.

we see it, too, when he is afflicted by the arcane hunger condition:

we get glimpses of it when he consumes an artefact:

he mentions it, too, in his dialogues, but it's very much downplayed by gale or phrased in such a way that is meant to overplay it with humour, or perhaps even to distance himself from it by using metaphors:

that is until we actually get to see it through his eyes, if only for the briefest of moments:

*Its teeth, its claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, it is ever-hungry...*

gale also has an idle animation where he--quite often--reaches up to touch the orb, perhaps because it flares with pain, like an old wound is wont to do:

(gif by @bladeofavernus)

from the last conversation we have with gale, and after catching all of these little moments of things he says or does with how the orb affects him, we learn that consuming the magic from artefacts no longer has any effect at all. the only solution that tara and he were able to find no longer works:

it would scare him and imbalance him, and it would finally destabilise the orb, make it more volatile.

but what happens in the game after that? the orb becoming volatile enough for the artefacts to no longer have an effect has no consequences at all: you are able to do the tiefling party, all quests in the underdark, the entirety of the grymforge, and, should you choose to do so, the entirety of the mountain pass and rosymorn monastery without an incident at all or any mention of the condition itself/any discomfort or fear it might cause.

there's no urgency here, no follow-up, to what the narrative set up... and then we meet deus ex elminster and the orb is stabilised, and the urgency that came before literally is handwaved out of existence.

what i would have liked instead to happen--or at least to bridge the gap between the artefacts no longer working and elminster stabilising it to be used on mystra's behalf--is the following:

i think it would have been nice to have a scene with gale where we do get to see--on a much smaller scale--him losing control over the orb, have the protag and the companions see what he is trying desperately to keep contained within himself, what gnaws at him, what continues to haunt him.

it could happen perhaps after a particular gruelling and intense fight--and there are enough of that in the underdark and at the mountain pass. it could have been a ! conversation, providing both friendship and romance content.

have the orb act up after expending so much energy to manipulate the weave to the fullest of his abilities, have gale manage to reign it in, but barely, show that it takes a lot of power and effort for him to do so.

that it hurts, with none of gale's metaphors to hide behind or jokes to play it off.

have the audience truly see the gravity of what he is going through.

[thiscityneedslessfog]

Isn’t it better to hide— (INCORRECT BUZZER)

Persona 4 has a theme of convenience and basically choosing when to actually pursue things harder or just stick to what’s convenient.

The idea of convenience and how it can be destructive begins at the very start of the game with the negative effects of Junes on the town—people flock away from what gives the town identity for goods that are cheaper and easier to find. And you notice that people keep talking about Junes, but for the most part the same people keep buying from there—though, there are a lot of reused models, Persona 4 likes to use details like Namatame’s truck to its advantage. You see the woman at Junes who wants cabbages is the same woman who talks about Yosuke in Rank 2 of his social link.

Rather similar to the lyrics of the original opening of Persona 4:

Loading, loading, loading, quickly reaching maximum capacity

Warning, warning, warning, gonna short-circuit my identity

That second lyric has a double meaning—it’s not just about the fear of Inaba losing its integrity, but about the kids. Another thing about Persona 4 is how is shows the desperation of teenagers to be accepted by those around them, and how terrified they can be of living as themselves. See Yukiko and how Konohana Sakuya calls her out on not changing her situation because it’s easier.

The Midnight Channel Killings and the true Midnight Channel Killer

Furthermore, the game gives out numerous red herrings as to the Midnight Channel Killer’s identity simply because they’re easier to accept than the truth.

Kubo just comes out and lies that he’s the Midnight Channel Killer. But it’s so obvious he isn’t, if you’re paying attention. He’s not on anything TV related when he’s found dead. Even if you’re not a Persona user you can suspect something’s fishy. I mean hell, the police are pissed off with Naoto because she realized something was wrong about Mitsuo Kubo being convicted as the Midnight Channel Killer—the cause of death was known. Saki and Yamano just died out of nowhere.

Speaking of Naoto, she’s definitely a part of this because she thought staying in the closet and acting as a guy was easier than actually living as herself—a girl.

Namatame gets mistaken for the Midnight Channel Killer because he was intentionally framed by the true Midnight Channel Killer—he was manipulated by him into thinking the TV world could be safe, and the kids are so enraged by Nanako’s death that half of them try to kill the wrong guy. He’s not anyone the group is attached to or anyone who holds power.

Not to mention Namatame’s role—how he averted his eyes and didn’t want to believe that what he was doing was dangerous, a move he later admits was cowardly.

And the real Midnight Channel Killer? He’s none other than Tohru Adachi, the dearest friend of your character’s father figure, Ryotaro Dojima. You’ve seen him genuinely playing with Nanako. And he’s a police detective, one of the people meant to be working on the case, which is why he flies under the kids’ radar for so long.

Speaking of him, this isn’t the only way Adachi represents the theme of convenience vs truth and identity. Adachi heavily implies he believes in fate, and that it’s the primary reason why he isn’t successful in life, ignoring his own self-destructive nature that burns every bridge people make to him.

Furthermore, I see a lot of people saying he accepted Magatsu-Izanagi as himself without fighting him and that’s why his eyes turned gold during his fight. I don’t believe this is true at all thanks to Izanami’s words about Adachi. She describes him as someone who chose to "avert his eyes from the truth." To just fully accept it is entirely against what we know of his character—he doesn’t want to believe he’s at fault for his bullshit. He wouldn’t ever accept that, he's too proud. That’s why he blows up when the kids confront him!

And Adachi’s tendency to blame everyone around him is him running from himself and his own self-destruction. What I’m saying is, Adachi never could have accepted Magatsu-Izanagi as a Shadow, especially since thanks to Izanami kickstarting Magatsu-Izanagi as a Persona early, he never had the chance! And he needed to accept him because of how much baggage he has!

Also… remember how Adachi’s eyes turned gold. That was Magatsu-Izanagi bugging out and overtaking him. And remember what Chie’s Shadow, Tomoe, said when Chie rejected her? And the fact that the Shadows overtake and kill the victims when the fog clears?

Adachi took the easy way out—got a Persona without confronting it as a Shadow, and he paid the price. And he used a way of thinking that made him take the easy way out. The idea that everything was out of his control, when it wasn't at all.

It also gets covered in some characters’ individual character arcs, like Kanji, Marie and Naoto’s links.

Like Kanji, who ends up learning about how clearing the air would make life one hell of a lot easier for him if he just put in the work to clear the air in the first place.

Marie is afraid of the truth awaiting her in her memories, as she pleads Yu to stop during her rank 2 because “there’s no such thing.”

It’s not really a wonder Izanami discusses it and seems so fixated on it, especially since she’s incomplete and only the wish-granting side of herself. She described throughout her dungeon the choices she made as only being for the sake of mankind. She even mentions it in her dialogue as a normal gas station attendant.

And she’s not exactly wrong about how people work, we do try to pursue what’s convenient in a desperate bid to make our lives easier, everyone wants to make their life easier and better.

But the game proves how the truth is better for you in the end. First of all, Google human achievements now—see how literally pursuing the truth has made our lives better. Medicine alone is a perfect example. We learned about various diseases that menaced humanity, researched them, learned the truth about how they worked, and created vaccines and medication against them so we could survive. But second of all, see how things and people change for the better.

First of all, there’s the obvious not taking Adachi and the Midnight Channel’s bait and killing Namatame. By not killing him, you get to actually take down Adachi—the true Midnight Channel Killer. Because Yu gets everyone to back off by explaining that he suspects Namatame isn’t the real MCK. Because he isn’t!!

Second of all, in the epilogue, Junes begins cooperating with the local businesses to preserve the integrity of the district and to not close its competition.

This actually makes the Shopping District come alive, and helps Inaba begin to prosper instead of being a stagnant, dying town that also got almost collectively thrown into the apocalypse.

And in the social links, pretty much everyone who decides to go the hard way and live as their true selves are happier. Naoto living as a woman instead of remaining closeted, and realizing that "the misogynists and those who look down on those younger than them will never be happy, so don't try to prove yourself to them--you're still a detective and what matters is you're doing something you love. And no matter what they say, you're absolutely great at it."

Kanji succeeding to help his family business after helping clear his reputation after the little boy empowers him to do so…

And how could I forget Teddie finally choosing to not hide who he is as a Shadow after so much turmoil about it because he thought hiding it would make the Investigation Team like him? And it literally awakening his Persona from Kintoki-Douji to Kamuy?

The story and the social links alike support this: The truth is what pushes people forward. Not hiding it. The discovery and acceptance of truth is the key to human progress and prosperity, and Persona 4 understands this at a fundamental level. It’s one of the key themes of Persona 4, alongside the power of trust and love. but those two are for different posts.

[midnight-mourning]

Let Me Love You

Hi @spineapplestudios!! I was your Secret Valentine this year!!! I wrote you a little hurt/comfort piece with Sun hehe, I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 2391

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

You wring your hands, checking the time once again.

The clock reads 3:03 am. Late. Far too late. 

When things took this long, it was never good. Not in the slightest. It meant that things had went wrong, one way or another. But you had no way of knowing for sure until they got back. Stuck simply lying—or in this case, sitting or pacing—awake until someone walked through the door. 

You knew they were capable, knew they could handle most any threat thrown their way. But that didn't stop the worry from sinking into you all the same. Holding a vice grip of dread around your heart as you listened to the 'tick, tick, tick' of the wall clock. 

Maybe you should have argued more this time. Made your case again for how and why you could be of help. Sure, you weren't strong in that regard. Not like them. 

Merely human, no abilities or powers, weaker, certainly, without a doubt. But that didn't mean you weren't capable. That didn't mean you couldn't try, couldn't fight your hardest, your best, in the ways that you could contribute. 

You were smart, quick on your feet, good in stressful situations. Your first aid skills weren't terrible either. You could help! And if he would let you train and learn to fight or at least more than just basic defense, surely then you'd stand a decent chance. 

"Not fast enough, love." Sun would say, wooden blade hitting against yours, pushing down to force you to almost kneel from his strength. "Not strong enough. One wrong move is all it takes. It's not worth the risk."

You think that if he actually trained you, instead of throwing you to the wolves immediately that maybe you wouldn't crumple like a sack of potatoes at every blow, but that was just your opinion. 

However, everytime you tried to bring it up, it only ended in another argument. Words thrown around that shouldn't be, regrets sinking in with each and every blow. You, weren't great for each other in that regard. Feeding off each other's worst traits in a situation where you should be trying to negate them. 

Maybe that's why he outright refused to let you help, you two weren't—admittedly—the best when it came to that kind of communication. And if you couldn't agree off the battlefield, it wasn't a good sign for when you were on it. 

That didn't mean you wouldn't try, though. You'd do anything to just be given a chance to show that you could help. Just one chance. 

The door creaks open then, pulling you from your clouded thoughts. 

Sun trudges in, slight stumble to his steps. The door shutting behind him with a muted click. 

He looks up, eyes locking with yours, widened in surprise upon seeing you still up. "I, love, why are you awake?"

"As if I could even think about sleeping." You tsk, then notice the way he's clutching his side. "Wait, are you okay? What happened? Is everyone alright?"

You hurry over to him, fretting, unsure what to do. 

He waves you off, moving past you to collapse onto the couch, sitting back with a heaved sigh. "Just a knick. I'll live. Go to bed."

"I, you can't be serious." You shake your head, trying to keep your anger under check. 

Sun pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Please, not now. I can't tonight. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, alright?"

You bite your cheek, frustration going from a simmer to almost boiling over. There's so much you want to say. How it's not fair to just toss you away, especially when he's hurting like this. How that's not how love works, it's a two-way street, and yet, he never lets you give him that, you realize. 

It's always him appreciating you, cherishing you. Showing you how much he cares, but the moment you try and offer the same, he shuts down, shuts you out. You've never understood it, and despite your efforts in trying to find out why, you've yet to succeed.

But, that's a discussion for another time. Calling him out from his walls won't stop him from bleeding out. 

You head over to under the sink, grabbing the first aid kit and walking back over to him. You kneel on the ground, setting the kit on the couch beside him.

"I said—"

"I know what you said." You interject. "I know. But I don't care. You're just going to have to deal with it."

You ignore the noise he makes in response, opening up the kit and searching through for the supplies you need. 

Bot medical supplies and human weren't so different, you'd quickly found out once they'd become part of your day to day. They could still get hurt, still suffer just as much. Still die. 

You shake the thought off, grabbing the gauze and turning back to nod at him. "Shirt off."

"Gladly." He purrs, starting to lift it off and remove it.

You tsk. "Stop that."

"Oh, but you make it so,"—he coughs, groaning as he finally gets the clothing off, throwing it away in agitation, another cough—"Inticing."

You repress the eye roll you want to give him. Instead leaning in to inspect the damage a bit closer, Just a slice, across the equivalent of his rib cage. Not deep, only on the surface, but still an issue all the same. You search around for something to  soak up what's there, and Sun offers his shirt. 

You raise a brow. He shrugs. "It's ruined anyway, might as well put it to good use."

You take it, wiping away the oil and staining the shirt in the process.

Quiet as you work, cleaning and bandaging the wound. 

"I could have sewed it for you, if you wanted." You say. 

A click. "I wouldn't ask that of you."

"Why not? Why wouldn't you?" You ask. "You never—" You hold your tongue. 

A hand on your cheek, guiding you to look up at him. "Never what?"

"I want to take care of you. Help you. You, you never let me. And it's not fair. Do you know how badly I want to? Do you know how much it aches that I feel like I can't do anything for you?" You lean into his touch, taking hold of his hand to make sure he doesn't pull away, retreat. That he listens to you. "I just, you do so much, for me, for Dazzle, for everyone. Why can't you let that favor be returned? Just, let me. For once. Please."

As you speak—beg, really—Sun's grip on your cheek tightens. Glancing up to him you can see the confliction in his eyes. Something he doesn't let slip often. Only in moments like this, late nights like this. Or if he's not sober, but you know that's not the case at the moment. 

When he starts to let you go you panic. But he hushes you, patting beside himself on the couch. It clicks, and you nod, standing up. 

Before you can sit down however, he takes hold of your waist, pulling you into his lap. You yelp quietly, and he shushes you again, chuckling softly. You huff, cheeks burning as his arms wrap around you, burying his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder. 

He kisses you there, once, twice. You clear your throat, as much as you'd like to turn this into something else, you spilled far too much of your heart out for such. But, unfortunately, he doesn't take the hint. 

He keeps going, urgent, desperate. And all it does is reignite your initial anger. 

"Stop, stop, that's enough!" You push your hands into his chest, forcing him to stop. 

He meets your gaze, confusion in his expression and it puts you over the edge. 

You shake your head, cheeks burning in rage. "You can't just fix everything by distracting me, Sun. That's not how this is supposed to work. That's not how we're supposed to work. I just, did you even listen to a word I just said?"

"I, of course I did but—"

"But what? Why is it so hard to get through to you that I feel like nothing compared to you!?" Your voice raises louder than you meant it to. 

He takes a moment, then a sneer appears on his features. "Oh, don't kid yourself you and I both know that's not true."

"I, you think I'm joking? You think I'm not dead serious?" 

"It's a ridiculous notion. I'm not buying into it." He waves his hand, flippant. 

Your hands grip your head teeth gritted and tears pricking your eyes. "Sun, I feel like a parasite. Leeching off you and everything you give me. And while that might be the ideal relationship for you, it's fucking not for me."

The tears flow freely now, you let them. You sit there, in his lap at past 3 in the morning. crying like a baby. You just, you love him so, so much, but he just. won't. let. you. 

"Why can't you let me love you?" You sniffle out. "That's all I want. Just please, please let me love you. I can't say it anymore than this. This is all I have."

He hugs you then, tight, close as you can get. You can just barely make out murmured apologies against your shoulder. You can't tell if it makes your sniffling better or worse. 

Sun sighs, pulling back to look at you. His hand comes up to hold your chin wiping away a tear. His thumb pressing against your lips, as he shakes his head. "You know I love you, right?"

You nod. "I do. But do you know I love you too?"

"Of course I do." He's worried now, sitting forward. "I know, but I need to—"

You put your hand over his mouth, frown ever present on your face. "You give too much. To everyone. It's going to kill you one day, Sun."

Quiet. You wait for another smart quip, but it doesn't happen. 

"Do you think?" He asks, voice so small in that moment. 

It gives you pause, so you speak just as soft, gentle, encouraging. "I know how much you care. I really, really do. And I know how much you want to keep everyone safe, do your job, and so on. But you're only one man, Sun." 

Your thumb traces over his cheek, gaze focused on the twitch of his lips as he takes in your words. 

"It's... Hard. To set a limit. To find that point and draw the line. Because what if, when I do that, someone gets hurt? What if it's not enough? What if—" He cuts himself off, turmoil evident in his gaze. 

You press your lips to his then, pulling away after a moment. Though you don't ignore how he tries to follow after you. "You can't do everything, love. You, you can't save everyone."

His eyes widen then, but then he sighs. 

"I, I suppose you're right." He looks away from you then, but leans further into your touch. "That doesn't make it right, though."

You shake your head. "No, it doesn't."

You shift your grip then, hand moving to one of his rays, tracing patterns there. He groans, pressing against your hand, so you lift your other one to further your efforts. He practically melts into your touch. 

You continue your ministrations, and while you're at it, hum a quiet tune. You see the stress, the frustration, the conflict, disappear from him bit by bit. You feel it leave yourself as well. 

"You're quite good at this. Have a told you that before?" Sun questions, head now resting on your shoulder once more as you trace and press into his shoulders and back with your fingers. 

You chuckle. "A few times. Though, you seem to forget whenever I offer when we're not fighting."

"We do that a lot, don't we?" He mutters. "I'm sorry."

You click your tongue. "Takes two to tango, you know. I'm just as much at fault."

"Two to tango yes, but when one is dancing on the cliff's edge it doesn't help."

You scoff, but he continues. 

"I just, it's hard to give my trust to just anyone. I think you've noticed that by now. And it's not that I don't trust you it's just, I don't trust others. Or myself, for that matter." His hands, which had been resting on your waist, squeeze you slightly. "The others, I have to let it go and assume they'll be safe. Dazzle, I'm still working on it, I'll admit it. But you..." He trails off, grip not easing up in the slightest. 

You huff. "I know. I'm not fast enough. Not strong enough. I get it—" You're cut off by a smashing of his lips to yours, and he keeps you in place by moving his hands to hold you against him. You finally have to tap his shoulder to get him to pull away, gasping for breath for a moment. 

"It's not that at all." Sun shakes his head. "Not in the slightest bit. I never should have said that, done that. You just wanted to learn and I—I was afraid. And I let that fear get the better of me, took it out on you, when you're the one I want to protect."

His hands slip from your face then. 

"And I know, I know that you can protect yourself. You've proven that time and time again. You're brave, selfless, grounding, you keep me sane, truly. But I can't help but worry about what would happen if I lost you."

"You wouldn't lose me." You wrap your arms around his neck. "I'm much too stubborn to die."

Sun looks up to you. Then, he laughs, a full-bodied, true laugh. The likes of which you haven't heard in some time from him. 

He kisses you again, just a peck this time. 

"I suppose that's true, you are."

You chuckle, leaning your forehead against his.

Another pause. 

"I'll work on being more... open, to your help. And your touch. And you love." With each sentence he punctuate it with another kiss. "I promise."

You sigh, giggling. "I promise I'll be more open to you acting like a guard dog. Sometimes."

"Sometimes is enough."

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘����💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

Hope you enjoyed Spine! And that you had a wonderful Valentine's ^^

Adding the tag list since it's writing stuff

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[saintship]

Can i request Reader being almost blown up on the mission and their face is almost completely burnt/scarred??😢When they wake up and see their red face covered in bandaids and oils they just break down and decide to wear a mask from now on. And Konig seeing them doesn't know what's going on until he accidentally notice how they pulled up their mask a little to eat. Pleaseee😭 I've hard this idea for days. Can it be with fluff at the end? LOVE YOUR WORK SM

THANK YOU !!

OH MY GOD SAINTSHIP ABOUT FUCKING TIME

this has been ROTTING in my drafts I am so sorry anon, also got a little carried away at the end but nothing spicy just big feels

I really hope you enjoy

I love this idea it’s so fitting for König, I feel he’s very observant given how little he draws attention to himself.

Mask

König x gn!Reader - call sign: Radar

Life around the base could be monotonous. Being in one place usually meant paperwork, meals, paperwork, sparring or group lessons, more paperwork, passing out in your bunk, and doing it all again.

It was different, however, when all of this is happening directly after a loss. And not just losing the fight, but losing many of their soldiers. It was the young men, some no older than 20, losing their lives in the explosions that no one predicted that shook the 141 especially. Their only solace was that they managed to save you.

The air around you was burning hot, flakes of ash floating to singe the gaps of skin they could access. You crawled desperately on your stomach underneath a scorched truck, trying to make your way to the others.

“RADAR, COPY!”

A flaming piece of rubble tumbled next to you, making you jump.

“I’m—I’m on my way..”

“By the east bridge where we came in, you got that?”

Ghosts assuring tone rang faintly in your ears. Finally, you crawled out into a open area, stumbling in the direction of the bridge. The truck there flashed its headlights.

“Move it, private!”

“Yes sir..”

Before you made it a hundred yards, the engine in the car beside you exploded, blasting your body to one side and scalding the right side of your face in flames.

“RADAR!”

Your head smacked the dirt, and the world around you blurred until it was dark.

“Wrap their face!”

“Bampots, these fucks are.”

Soap’s voice cut through the fog that seemed to fill your ears.

“Speak—english.” Your rough voice caught the attention of the truck you lay in, Gaz quickly finishing up wrapping your face. He left as much room as he could, but all that showed in the end was your left eye and mouth.

“Lass..” Soap ignored your taunt, moving to kneel at your side.

“Hi.” Your voice sounded unlike yourself.

Soap’s attention was suddenly pulled to the back of the truck as it rolled to a stop. He darted to swing them open, revealing a few members of Las Almas.

“We’re understaffed on medics, but Rudy’s got basic medical training from boot.” Price explained. “Are you stayin’ awake okay?”

You nodded, the movement stinging your face and scalp, but as he said those words it was like he’d called it—the interior of the truck was dotting quickly in dark spots. Rudy’s gloved hand touching your shoulder was all you felt, and you slipped under again.

This time, it wasn’t voices that woke you. It was the incessant beeping of a heart rate monitor at your side. They’d brought you to the med unit on base—you were home. After taking in the sterile room, your head fell back against the pillow again, exhausted. Fresh gauze plastered most of your face, but the skin underneath felt dry. You needed a change.

Carefully setting down the fingertip pulse monitor on the bedside table, you guided your IV stand over to the mirror and sink, sifting through the drawers for gauze and burn ointment. After retrieving the right tools, you hesitate before removing your wraps. Your good eye seemed as though the color had dulled—the dark circles underneath especially prominent. Your lips were slathered in ointment, but the damage was evident. Breathing deeply, you began to unwrap the gauze. Your eyes remained trained on the sink until the last piece fell into the basin, only then lifting your eyes to the mirror.

No. No, no..

The right half was—gone. It was hard to describe; the skin that had been there before was rendered to an angry scarlet. The tissue pulled and tightened oddly, your right eye missing it’s eyelashes and eyebrow. A sob ripped from your throat involuntarily. Your face contorting from the crying caused pain to tear through your head while your tears stung the affected areas. You hardly registered a nurse coming in, leading you to lie back down, and re-wrapping your head through your protest. One sentiment rang clear through your breaking down;

You could not show this face anymore.

Which brought you to now. Sitting alone, hunched up in the corner of the cafeteria, quickly lifting your balaclava only to put food in your mouth before covering it just as quickly. It had only been a few days—the others knew to leave you be. The 141 sat in a group not far from you, one of them sneaking a glance every so often. You seemed to shrink into yourself, as though you could disappear if you cowered enough.

König wandered into the cafeteria not long after you’d sat down, sitting by himself to eat. You felt a little creepy people watching, knowing you resembled a certain intimidating member of the task force, but found nothing better to do.

König rid of his tray after eating quickly, going over to the 141 after Soap cheerfully called him over. You smiled at his inclusiveness, which deepened when König pointed to himself curiously. Even though smiling pulled at the tender muscle, you didn’t care.

König was pulled into a seat by Soap’s arm, the sight of such a smaller man strong-arming him rather ridiculous.

“Leave him be, Christ, Johnny.” Price picked at his tray, shaking his head at the soldier.

“I’m being friendly, sir.” Soap defended himself, relieving König of his arm.

“Friendliest in the military, aye?” Ghost murmured, lifting his mask to drink out of his canteen.

“Pride myself on it.”

“You’re diggin’ your grave, mate.” Gaz grinned.

“Oi, you-"

“Moving on!” Price grunted, to which Soap sat back and sulked at his refusal to let him argue.

“That was impressive the other day, König. Pulling a truck together and findin’ someone to treat Radar? You saved their life.”

König studied the grain of the tabletop, heat rising up his neck. “Danke. I still don’t know—what happened? They still look..scared.” König snuck a glance at you. Your fleeting eyes and hunched shoulders made his heart break. Seeing someone so determined, so welcoming, so gracious and funny and kind, reduced to a frightened animal—it didn’t make sense.

Price sighed, his eyes carrying the same weight König held in his chest.

“Their face..it got pretty fucked up. It won’t impact their daily living too much, and I’ve seen worse, but it obviously got to them.”

Soap fiddled with the screw top of his canteen. “Really got to them.”

König casted one last look and caught sight of your charred skin, everything clicking into place. You thought you needed to hide.

“I hope they get through it.” König murmured.

“For their sake.”

Because they’re so nice to be around.

König watched you a bit again at dinner, catching more of your facial scars. He wished he had the words to speak to you, but his boots seemed to cement to the linoleum at the thought of approaching.

“You got a crush, eh?” Soap’s sudden presence beside König startled him, studying Soap’s smug half-smile with confusion.

“Crush?” He repeated the new English word. “What is that? What am I crushing?”

“No-" Soap grinned, sitting up straight. “You have a crush. Means you like someone. In that way? König, do I need to explain-"

“No—no, no, I understand now.” König’s face burned; he was grateful it was largely hidden. “I don’t, though, I-"

Soap’s face morphed into one of ‘don’t even try.’

“It’s..” König huffed, lowering his voice. “I’m their colonel.”

“Eh, not really. Different clubs n’ all.” He pointed briefly to Radar. “They’re a keeper. And sweet, too. Don’t stamp this out, mate.” With a clap to König’s shoulder, he stood to join his task force as the mess hall cooks called an end to the meal. König nearly jogged to his quarters, his thoughts racing.

Sitting at the edge of your cot, you removed your balaclava for the first time in nearly 18 hours. The fresh air soothed the irritation caused by trapped sweat and fabric, a sigh escaping your nose.

You made you way to the mirror and sink, studying the damage as you did every chance you got. It wasn’t as angry as the day you got hurt, but the scarring would be permanent. You turned away before more tears could slip by, gently folding the cloth mask.

A rapping on your door made you jump, striding over quickly while wrestling with the mask to go back over your head. You opened the door cautiously, revealing a tall silhouette.

“Hello.”

“Hi, König..” you scanned the hall, not completely sure what it was you were searching for.

“Can I—come in? If that’s alright, it’s okay if-"

“Sure.” You left the door to sway of its own volition, turning to sit on your cot and look up at your coworker. “What’s going on?”

König closed the door gently, fidgeting with his hands. “I’ve—noticed something about you.”

Your shoulders deflate. “No shit.”

You didn’t mean to bite your words that way, but you did, and he shrunk a bit at your tone.

“I apologize. I will leave you be-"

“No, König,” you sighed, frustrated with yourself. “Say what you were going to say.”

He paused, as if a step in any direction would set off an alarm. “May I?” He gestured to the space beside you, to which you nodded.

The cot bowed slightly as he sat, his height still a bit intimidating even after some time knowing him. Being right next to him, you couldn’t help but feel a little small. He looked at his lap, wrestling with his mind on how to start the conversation.

“Where did you get your callsign from?” He blurted the question, briefly turning his head to you.

You paused, not expecting his casual inquiry. “Uh..when we did training in the dark, in boot camp, I could always feel someone coming up behind me.” You gestured to your back before clasping your hands back together. “My sergeant would tell me I had a built-in motion radar,” you laughed a bit at the memory, finding the courage to smile a bit under your mask. “Gaz had met me by then, and he started calling me by Radar, and it stuck.”

König blinked thoughtfully, humming in understanding.

“That’s not the reason you came in, is it?” You teased, leaning to push his side a bit. You noticed he let himself sway instead of remaining rigid.

“You got me. Uh..I just wanted to tell you something that I thought you could..consider.”

Biting back another deflective joke, you nodded, letting him continue.

“There was never a time in the military that I did not have my sniper hood.” He studied his boots, which still easily sat flat on the floor. “Not just because of my—aspiration, but.." he inhaled, then sighed deeply.

You could tell he’d never spoken these words. The impulse to touch some part of him, to comfort him, was blinding. Only his voice brought you back into the moment.

“It was..is, because I hate to see myself. I hate being seen. It feels like I’m giving away a part of myself to every stranger I come across. I would rather choose who sees me, in more ways than one.”

His voice was no more than a murmur, and for the first time, you saw the broken man nestled in a soldier’s body before you. His head hung low, his hands shook, and in the silence after his confession, his eyes fluttered shut. To hide from what, you didn’t know.

“I need you to know," he spoke, eyes still closed. “You don’t have to live this way. You are..kind, and resilient. And..” he turned his head away to utter the final word, a whisper in the dim light.

“And beautiful.”

“König..”

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry..” he stood abruptly, shaking the cot. Watching him head for the door, you refused to let yourself lose him.

“Wait.”

You ripped off what covered your face, your hair falling into place in its wake. König stared, entranced.

“I’m glad you came here. I don’t want you to go, I don’t..” it was your turn to sigh in pause. “I don’t want you to hide from me.”

König blinked, confusion gathering in his eyes.

“Please?”

“Liebling..” he breathed. He crossed the room in a few strides, taking your scarred cheek in his hand.

Anxiety held you in place, your hands finding purchase in the gaps of his vest and his sweater.

“You deserve to walk out of this room and not feel afraid.”

“König..”

And then his hands were over his head, pulling up his beloved sniper hood over and off of his head. You didn’t move, your only physical reaction being the blush that burned its way up your neck.

His eye paint made him look intimidating, but his eyes were far from threatening anyone. His lips, scarred from combat, parted slightly with bated breath. On the skin not painted with black, freckles dotted randomly, forming triangles, lines, and other shapes you wanted to memorize. His brow worried into a slight upturn, which was hidden ever so slightly by the hair that dropped near his eyes. The rest of it was a mess, a rich auburn that stuck up and settled down in all the right places.

“You’ve got to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words tumbled out before you could catch them by the tail. Fear clogged your throat in the moments where he didn’t respond before he leaned down quickly, pressing his lips gently to yours. It was devoted and kind, a kiss that said I don’t just love you, I like you.

When he pulled back, both his hands were still settled on your cheeks, the heat of his palms making you dizzy.

“Thank you..” you breathed.

König grinned sideways, and you nearly fainted.

“For what?”

“Not leaving.”

[prezaki]

Bucchigiri?! and 'being Honki' - a Show about Identity and Human Connection

With Hiroko Utsumi's newest work as a director now completed, I want to take a moment to discuss the thematic through-lines of Bucchigiri?! and explain why I think that the story was very coherent even if it first seemed erratic.

At the heart of the series is the concept of the Honki Person(TM) - and that's where the confusion starts. Leaving the word 'Honki' in Japanese for the subs suggests a lore-heavy emphasis on some kind of supernatural mechanic in-story. It caused many viewers expected a well-defined shounen-typical power system - but that isn't what Honki is nor what it was ever meant to be.

"Honki" is the Japanese word 本気, which means Seriousness, Earnestness (or doing something 'in earnest, for real' if used as an adverb). 'Honki People' literally just means 'Earnest People'

And thus "Honki" is doing double duty as a red herring Lore Concept and a regular word - an intentional ambiguity that is inevitably lost by translation.

In the show, the characters do initially think of the 'Honki Person' as a literal thing to become (a supernaturally powerful master martial artist) rather than as a state of being in which one is earnest - but the thing is that the narrative proves them wrong.

But before we get to that, we need to dig a little bit deeper into what a Honki Person is thought to be in-universe:

"Historically", those thought of as Honki were fighters who participated in conflicts 300 years ago - a bit after the end of the Sengoku Period, the continuously warring states that had defined Japan for two centuries. With the advent of the rigidly structured Edo Period, honorable fighters with no clear systemic alliance were no longer needed and the aspiring Honki People(TM) were mercilessly gunned down. This feels out of left field for an anime like Bucchigiri?! to focus on, so I propose a second more allegorical layer to impose over the literal pseudo-historical read.

Even beyond the historical fact that gun imports changed warfare, the usage of guns here is deliberate to represent something. Guns are associated with authorities, and contrasted against the Honki People(TM) shunning weapons and fighting only with their own bodies.

To be Honki(TM) means to be true to yourself and secure in your own identity - this is something that is a hindrance to a social system that relies on rules and groupthink to sustain itself. Supporting this assumption, the theme of 'death' by weapon/authority is mirrored in the show several times:

On the one hand, we have the NG Boys, a gang set apart from the other gangs in the story by their even more rigid hierarchical structure and their willingness to use weaponry. They all follow one leader, have one uniform look, and appear basically brainwashed into blind obedience.

The association of weapons=structure and authority is made pretty clearly through that alone, but is also enhanced by all the members of the NG Boys living under constant threat of being fed to the real authorities of society: the police. Fear keeps everyone in line.

And further, the idea of society as an oppressive force (especially to the lower class) is put into direct focus through Mitsukuni and Matakara. Poverty is brought up briefly before through Senya (our main Honki Person(TM) was a nameless orphan after all) and brought back with the Asamine brothers:

Mitsukuni wishes to escape his social status in order to offer a better life to his brother - and he's forcibly held down by the oppressive system around him.

The cop that causes Mitsukuni to go to jail is equivalent to the guns that shot Senya and Ichiya.

(Utsumi has explored this underlying socially critical current before. Not for nothing, her previous series SK8 opens with the memorable bridge of the title song reading: "before society can kill us".)

But Bucchigiri?! isn't about overthrowing the system. It's about the individual. Understanding the context about authority just helps setting the real theme into focus.

And that theme is to hold on steadfast to who you are and allow yourself to connect with others, even in various kinds of adversity.

After this long, long preamble, let's get to the actual main characters!!

Matakara and Arajin are people who are ruled by fear and who spend 11 episodes running from others and themselves in two very different ways.

Arajin is pretty hated as a protagonist, which amuses me a little, because nobody hates Arajin more than Arajin hates Arajin.

His past cowardice in failing to protect Matakara has clearly shown him that he is a pathetic person and he's spent his whole life since then trying to avoid being reminded of this. He avoids Matakara, the strongest reminder of his failure, but further than that he avoids connection with anybody that he could see as a peer.

Arajin is solely focused on finding love and romance because he feels inherently inferior to every person he would be invited to contrast himself against. He avoids other guys because he hates himself. He shuns connection and pursues only people (girls) he views as different enough to not invite any comparison.

Matakara meanwhile has major abandonment issues - he's lost his parents, Arajin, and his brother. Everyone important to him keeps vanishing from his life and in order to keep himself from feeling powerless about this he decides to blame himself.

If it's his own fault that people leave him (because he's weak) then there is something in his power that he can do in order to avoid being hurt again (becoming stronger). In order to maintain this state of motivational self-hatred, he puts others on a pedestal.

Matakara needs Arajin to be strong, powerful, honest and admirable... because that is the image he holds himself up by. In Mitsukuni and Arajin, Matakara creates god-like icons to chase after. And by doing so, he also shuns genuine connection.

Being confronted with Arajin as a flawed person gives Matakara a breakdown because it makes it harder to run from his own loneliness by focusing on chasing after Arajin.

Arajin is always running, but Matakara is always chasing... because he can't stand to look behind and face his monster.

In a lot of ways, Arajin and Matakara can't connect because they care about each other. Arajin can't stand what he allowed to happen to Matakara because he cared about Matakara. Matakara clings to Arajin because he loves him.

This theme of love hindering connection is again mirrored in two other characters - Senya and Ichiya, of course.

Ichiya, unwilling to confront his own terminal illness head-on, wishes to avoid it by goading Senya into killing him. By doing this, he can run from his own weakness and put Senya on a pedestal instead.

Meanwhile Senya is attached to their connection as-is and wishes to maintain this master-disciple dynamic forever - going so far as to deny his own strength in order to avoid acknowledging their changing dynamic.

Both of them are denying something about themselves.

It is their self-denial that makes their communication and thus connection break down.

Ichiya can't make Senya go Honki(TM) (which should have definitely been translated as an adverb here, e.g. 'failing to make him get serious') because he is also not HONEST with him or himself.

In the finale, Senya finally admits his motivations (his illness, his perceived weakness) and he is rewarded with the honest fight he'd been craving. They both stopped running.

This theme becomes even clearer through the two leads, of course, but even earlier than that it exists in Mahoro.

Mahoro's scene in episode 6 is the thematic linchpin that carried the whole show on its shoulders. Through Mahoro, everyone in the cast gets their first glimpse at true unrelenting Honki(tm) - and it is something totally unrelated to fighting prowess.

Mahoro is physically powerless against Akutaro, but she won't run. She has a heart that won't run away, the key quality of the Honki Person(TM), because she has an unshakable sense of self-identity.

It would be easy to dismiss her cutesy design as a contrivance to give Arajin a conventional-looking love interest despite going to Delinquent Academy - but it also says something about HER. Mahoro marches to the beat of her own drum. She does not care that she does not fit in, she does not mind being alone - she'll stick right to her own aesthetic and priorities.

So it's easy for her to call out Akutaro - and in doing so, call out the whole cast along with him:

You're empty. You are nothing but a shell, shaped by how you relate to those around you. You have nothing to offer.

And how are you supposed to connect with anybody, when you don't even know who you are?

(Notably, Mahoro is also a character who refuses to compromise on her self even for love - she knows she does not appeal to Marito, but she's not changing herself to be more his type. Her Honki does not budge, even for him.)

And lest you think I am exaggerating by connecting the theme of identity and emptiness back to all of the cast instead of just Akutaro: it does come back with Matakara.

Matakara can't believe anybody would know him and care for him, because he doesn't know himself.

For Matakara, facing himself means acknowledging his fear of abandonment rather than externalizing it as a hallucination of a literal monster.

But facing yourself doesn't just mean facing your demons, it also means facing your own positive qualities. And that is Arajin's story.

Even as Arajin turned into a scummy, evasive and selfish guy, there is a part of him that has a throughline to who he always was. He's someone who can get invested in others with reckless abandon.

Whether as a child with Matakara, or in the present with Mahoro... Arajin wants to connect.

Bucchigiri?! is a show full of innuendo and sexual gags. Merging with a genie gets equated to sex, fighting gets equated to sex... and of course this is for laughs, but it's also thematic.

Because all these things are about connection. About facing someone else with your whole self.

On a literal level, yes, Arajin absolutely wants to get laid. This is his sincere desire, and good for him.

But at the same time, his battle cry of 'I want to lose my virginity!' is him crying out for a real connection, even at a time when he shunned the idea thereof.

In the end, being a Honki Person(TM) has nothing to do with fighting. Fighting is the way a lot of the rough and tumble guys on the show like to connect, but it is not the only way to do so and not the only way to be Honki(TM).

Arajin never learns to love brawling - he did it out of circumstance and necessity, but it's not his hobby. He does not need to discover some hidden love of fighting, because this show fundamentally isn't about how 'fighting is inherently good' or anything.

It's a show about how even when you hate yourself and think you're as low as it can get, acknowledging your own self in full is the first step to finding a real bond with somebody else.

It just also happens to feature a bunch of delinquents who love to punch a lot.

[hot-on-my-watch]

The Hobbit Trilogy Part 4/4 or "Does Benedict Cumberbatch Play Every Character in this Film?"

We have finished The Hobbit trilogy! We enjoyed it!

I finally asked my hudband who he thought was playing the dragon Smaug, and he correctly guessed that it was Benedict Cumberbatch. Shortly beforehand I managed to get in a "that is SO SHERLOCK" over Smaug's surprise at how Bilbo cared about the people in the town, so that may have helped.

Like the boring spoil-sports we are we talked a bit about how dragons in film and television basically seem unbeatable and would kill and burn even more than they actually ever do, agreeing that that's really an integral flaw. Nevertheless, the action scenes were fun and Smaug was defeated in an emotionally and narratively satisfying way.

I'll admit my interest in the general plot wained once the dragon was dead. I don't care about armies at the best of times and five of them is really a lot. At least I remembered the title of the film though, whereas my husband was surprised every time a new force arrived to join the fray. I, having once asked "oooh, what do you think will happen?" after reading from Robert Louis Stephenson's Kidnapped, that is.

I also spent the entire third film waiting for that cowardly money-hungry servant of The Master to be killed horribly and while I was mildly glad not to have to watch it happen, I do wonder if he's some minor character in The Lord of the Rings trilogy that I've forgotten about -a servant to Sarumon or something. In my opinion it is a strength of these stories that the narrative seems to set up an expected ending, but then veers off.

As someone that's really not into fight scenes I have to say I did particularly like the part where Legolas was fighting on that bridge and Thorin on the ice. Some shouting at the screen may have occured. I have to say I don't remember Legolas having the weird blue eyes in LOTR but I probably just forgot that. Probably the best part was Billy Connelly showing up to flail around dramatically knocking people over en masse.

We also enjoyed the strange variety of giant creatures that were being ridden in battle. I can't name them all, but I'm pretty sure there was at least one battle goat! My husband asked afterwards "What do the eagles symbolise? Just goodness?" and I had to say I'd never really thought about it, except that they are indeed good in Tolkien and enact a surprise rescue in LoTR too. He said that their arrival seemed to signify a return of life to the mountain, which seems reasonable.

I particularly liked the illustrations that came with the end credits, and especially this one for obvious reasons:

I admitted to my partner that Sauron really doesn't get much screen time in this, which led to him asking what Sauron actually is and me replying that I wasn't sure but he's the big bad in LoTR but I've never been sure whether he was a person WITH a magic eye like, to quote @kristinnoeline on Feels Like the First Time podcast*, a fire vagina, or whether he had in fact become the fire vagina itself. Anyway I showed him an image of 'the eye of sauron' from the films and am somehow only now wondering if Kristen meant "fire VULVA" in the way that Americans often do: I'll assess the likelihood and get back to you on that ahem front.

My partner did actually start asking me if we had access to the LOTR films, so it seems he can handle, as he calls it, more 'wizard stuff' in the nearish future. I'm not in a particular rush to watch them again- I'm going through a particularly bad phase re. fatigue, sound sensitivity and attention span- but I had been thinking that if we're going to for the sake of his cultural education it really ought to be soon while he still vaguely remembers some of the world and the characters. So that might happen.

I also explained that I don't really know who or what the "the lord of the rings" is in Tolkien context, but that in Beowulf it was...Beowulf- a lord wearing ringmail. He then expressed that he knew Tolkein was "really into that", which annoyed me because he knows a lot more than me about history, politics and geography amongst other things and I really feel that, with having a degree in it and all, I really ought to have him beat on knowledge of English literature.

He asked me if Gandalf is ever included in 'zhips' and I ventured that he must be. He himself expressed the idea of potentially shipping Gandalf with Galadriel, but then said "or does it have to be gay?" I explained that it could be anything he wanted; the heart is, afterall, a law unto itself. I asked whether there is any fanfiction, romantic or otherwise, about a slightly obscure children's cartoon he and his brother remain into. He said that if there was his brother would know- and indeed I found some with almost no effort!

We talked a bit more about Martin Freeman. I received the wonderful news from @221bbees that he had apparently shown Johnlock fanart to Ian McKellen, who is himself a Johnlocker. As they know, when I relayed this to my darling husband fresh from the pub, he informed me that on a recent episode of the BBC's Celebrity Mastermind a children's TV presenter had had BBC Sherlock as her specialist category and got through 9 questions, which is really good. And my husband was committing the double crime of having fucked off to the pub without telling me this AND bringing it up right when I was about to go to sleep! I also told him of the rumours that Amanda Abbington had received threats as a result of playing Mary Morstan/Watson and joked that they were really all from chief fanatic Sir Ian McKellen. Sorry Ian!

At some point I also sent my husband an article about Freeman making That Joke and asked if he thought he should be cancelled. He said "well it's too late, we've watched his films now". Of course my husband doesn't know yet about Whiskey Tango Foxtrot and has not seen Miller's Girl or any other films that Freeman is undoubtedly in. He later said no but that he was shocked, particularly because Freeman generally plays really nice characters that would never say such a thing. He mentioned Love Actually. We then argued over whether Freeman was supposed to be a porn actor in LA, which I always thought he was.

And then, again just as I was about to go to sleep a piece of information emerged into my conscious awareness, this time from the depyhs of my own broken brain: the female porn actor in Love Actually is only bloody Stacey from Gavin and Stacey!!! Which provides further evidence for my theory that there really are only about 20 famous actors in the world, all of whom know each other. Or, my brain is broken. Or both. Because clearly I have unwittingly been sitying with this knowledge for SEVERAL YEARS.

Thankyou brain.

*which she made with my all time favorite pop-culture journo Joanna Robinson. Coincidentally, Joanna also provided a ton of info on the BBC Sherlock pages of Wikipedia about how the episodes reference Arthur Conan Doyle's original stories. See, it's a small world!

[brunnhildeps]

Not since GoT have I seen a show go from so complicated to so simple. From so nuanced to so fatuous.

Throw away everything interesting about the character driven, interpersonal conflicts in favour of "we, the good guys, must put aside our petty grievances to unite against the BAD GUYS" with said bad guys being so one dimensionally evil that any other option would be stupid.

Once, turning an incredible new technology into a weapon was treated as a bad thing by even some of the villain characters within the show. War is terrifying, but ending a war by winning it for one side isn't "peacekeeping", because no one group can remain "good" while they have a monopoly on violence. Now, the heroes are cops who indiscriminately use railguns built with hextech, and poison gas grenades built on the legacy of oppressing workers, but it's okay because the bad guys want to end the world for no other reason than some pseudo-philosophical spiels about order and chaos.

Once those stern faces carved into the bridge meant something. They overlooked the undercity burning. The punishment they faced for thinking that maybe they deserved better than to wallow in the filth of their superiors. Once, that song Jinx sang meant something. A hopeful plea that maybe things could ever be better. Now Vi hums it in the presence of a fascist dictator who tried to murder her sister. Then she talks about how she'll never give up "this fight". What fight? What are you talking about? Your enemy is right there. She's the one who gassed the undercity indiscriminately. She's the inheritor of the legacy of oppression that killed your parents. That tore apart the found family you built. That consigned you to a prison where you were brutalised on the regular with no trial, no charge, no nothing. Does none of that matter to you? Vi is basically written by the fanfic writers who passed out from excitement the moment they saw her eat Caitlyn's pussy onscreen.

Imagine me as Vi in the pit fighter montage but the breakup with Caitlyn is my breakup with Arcane, the show itself, and the line "No pretty face can save me now" is "No netflix original animated series can save me now"

[uramilf]

hi! I love your writing sm. can I req this it's based on a tiktok I saw and thought it'd be cute. so basically y/n singing taylor's new song you're losing me esp the bridge! and matty is concerned like "we're okay right? you've been singing that song with much passion" or something like that! I just really thought it would be cute thank u so much

Ok I decided to turn this one into a proper imagine where the reader is a popular solo artist who misses her rockstar boyfriend and literally sat up until 3am working on it because i loved the idea so fucking much, thank you anon <3

Warnings: Angst and sadness but happy ending I promise

You're Losing Me

Y/n Y/l/n was sitting alone in her dressing room cross legged on a battered sofa. She had just received a message from her friend George to inform her that The 1975 had performed their last show of their tour and were flying back to London the very next morning. He also dropped in that Matty was excited to see her again and couldn't wait to get home. She hadn't bothered to respond. Why couldn't Matty have told her that himself? Her heart sank on remembering that although Matty was finishing his tour, she was just beginning hers. She would spend one night with him in their shared house before flying to the USA and wouldn't return for several weeks. Y/n felt empty, as she had since Matty left. She looked up to realise that she wasn't alone at all; in fact the dressing room was full of people refilling her water bottles, fixing the order of her costumes for quick changes, ensuring the setlist was right. But still, the crushing loneliness got to her. She doubted that it would be remedied in twenty minutes when the crowd of 15,000 people were screaming her name. She was right.

--------------------

Exactly 24 hours later, Y/n lay in her boyfriend's arms, thrilled to have him home but heart not feeling any lighter. She could feel them pulling apart from each other, the demanding schedules their careers presented them with tearing apart the best relationship either of them had ever been in. Even as Matty stroked her hair and pressed soft kisses to her forehead, she was fighting to keep a smile on her face. She wanted to burst into tears and tell him she needed him. She needed to be with him all the time, not just sometimes. She needed to fall into his arms the second she came offstage. She needed to feel as though their relationship wasn't a liability. When Y/n left Matty in bed to use the bathroom, he started to scroll Twitter and look for videos of his girl's first show of her tour. He came across one that already had thousands upon thousands of views. It was captioned "Y/n Y/l/n cover Taylor Swift's "You're Losing Me" at her London show last night". He clicked and started watching. His girlfriend sounded angelic as usual, but he didn't feel like he was watching a video of her usual happy, performance-loving self. The girl on his screen was breaking from the inside out. The passion she was singing with was gave her the image of someone who undeniably related to what she was singing. She wasn't just covering a popular song. He could tell she meant it. He listened closely to the lyrics; "And I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people pleaser", "Do something babe, say something." Matty's heart was in his throat as he realised that there was a reason she had chosen the song. Did she think he didn't love her anymore? Had she been hoping for the next step in their relationship? Was he really losing her?

Y/n re-entered the room to see Matty, phone in hand, with a tear slipping down his cheek. "What's wrong, baby? Aren't you happy to be home?" "Are we ok, Y/n?" Matty whispered. "What? Of course we are. What's brought this on, love?" "The song. Last night. I know you didn't write it but you just sang it with so much passion, I couldn't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me." Y/n looked at his phone and was overcome with guilt. He understood that she had been singing to him. She took Matty's face in her hands and swiped away a tear gently with her thumb. "I'm sorry, Matty. But I just felt like I related to the song so much. I couldn't help but feel like we drifted apart while you were on tour. We were barely speaking by the last few weeks of it. I just needed you here, and honestly I did feel like you were losing me." Matty's sobs didn't stop. "Are you saying you want to break up with me because I'm away too much?" "No! Of course not baby, I couldn't imagine breaking up with you for the world. You are all I want in life. I promise. But I just don't know how to do this long distance thing anymore. I need us to be together." "Y/n, darling, I know. I'm dreading tomorrow. In all honestly, I understand why you sang the song. I was drifting away from you. I just couldn't bear to talk to you over the phone. I couldn't even answer a text from you without crying about how much I missed you."

Y/n was crying now too, feeling terrible that she hadn't seen how miserable Matty had been on tour. She stroked his hair as he buried his head in her chest. "It's ok baby, we're gonna be ok." Matty lifted his head to kiss away her tears. "Listen, darling. I'm going to speak to the boys and let them know that I'm not gonna be in the studio for a while. Give me a few days to recover from tour and then I'm gonna fly out and meet you. We'll only be away from each other for another week tops." Y/n tackled him into a hug. "You're really coming on tour with me?" "Yes, darling, really. I'm sorry I even considered going back to the studio instead of coming with you. I've just felt so pressured into releasing new music recently. But everyone else can just wait for me and my girl."

Y/n and Matty lay in each other's embrace once more, and as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard him whisper, "I promise I'll never let you feel like you're losing me again."

-----------------

A/N: Soz guys that got way deeper than I wanted it to. Got carried away ig but oh well

[soupthatistohot]

BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Chapter 5

Atsushi and Fatalism

[Masterpost]

This chapter is an interesting one, partially because a school of philosophy is literally included in the title: “Sorrow of a Fatalist.”

Atsushi wakes up from his altercation with Akutagawa, during which the latter had claimed that Atsushi brings calamity upon those around him simply by living. At the beginning of this chapter, Kunikida is anxious about the Port Mafia coming for them and even tells Atsushi that it is basically his fault. Then, Atsushi sees the fallout of an attack by the mafia’s Black Lizard and decides to leave the agency so as to not drag them into his mess.

Atsushi is very much falling into a self-pitying spiral at this point. Although I presented him as our absurdist protagonist up until now, this is one of his weaker moments where he does not fill this role, and as the chapter title suggests, his behavior aligns with the idea of fatalism. This school of thought claims that no matter what one does, the outcome will be the same because life is predetermined. Here, Atsushi leaves the agency because he believes that he’s fated to always be alone, that there’s nowhere that he belongs.

Despite this, the Black Lizard still attacks the agency, and we’re given somewhat of a parallel to what happened in the prior chapter, albeit a bit different.

In chapter 4, Atsushi should have not succeeded in his fight against Akutagawa, who was set up as an incredibly dangerous force, but he does. Similarly, the Black Lizard are presented as this strong elite group of mafiosos, and the audience and Atsushi are made to think that the agency doesn’t have a chance, and yet… 

… the agency is totally fine. 

They’re so fine, in fact, that it’s played for comedy. The underdog has succeeded once more. 

I think this is less dramatic than Atsushi’s success, though, because its meant to show that the agency is a much stronger force than they appear to be, that even the most intimidating enemies presented in the story so far aren’t any match for them, whereas Atsushi’s fight was a lot less sure. Regardless, its clear that the audience is supposed to think its funny and a bit absurd that the agency took down the Black Lizard so easily considering they appear to be a ragtag group of detectives, some of whom are literally minors. Kunikida tells Atsushi that they’re pretty much used to raids like these and even scolds him a bit for not helping out with work that much. To some, this may appear harsh, but I think this was Kunikida’s way of getting the message across to Atsushi that the agency is his home now and he doesn’t need to leave to protect them, that they’ll protect him. This is why I think he starts crying — this is the first time in his life he feels wanted.

I think this also allows him to break from his fatalist perspective for a moment, because he previously believed that he did nothing but bring pain to the people around him, and this is proved false since the agency treats the mafia raid as a slight inconvenience at most. 

I hadn’t considered before this point the idea of Atsushi as a fatalist and only did so because of the chapter title. From here on out, I’d be curious to see if this mindset surfaces again in moments when his self-esteem is low. I think the chapter where he faces Kyu would be another instance of this, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there!

[Previous] [Next]

[werecat1234]

Multiverse Madness Chapter Thirty Seven

Dream was pinching the bridge of his nasal cavity, the negativity around him draining him, but at least it was better than it had been. Horror and Famine had been talking for a while, Starve also participating in the conversation, Horror glancing at him occasionally, but Dream wasn't sure what the emotions Dream was sensing from him meant. There had been two fights since they'd gotten here, Famine of course starting one of them with Murder again, and Knife almost starting one with Murder, but a look from Color got him to stop... then Famine started the second fight with Knife by calling him Color's pet. . . . Dream didn't want to think about how bad that could've ended, since both Killers were upset about that, and Dust and Horror were both upset on Killer's and Knife's behalfs.

"i still don't understand how the hell you're defending them after what they did." Famine growled to Horror.

"yeah well, i know how their minds work. granted i was... slightly violent towards them at first-" Dust cut Horror off.

"you held an axe to my neck!" Dust exclaimed.

"it wouldn't've killed ya even if i tried cuttin' your skull off!" Horror defended himself.

"WHY NOT?" Starve asked.

"i wasn't tangible yet. i was basically a ghost here." Horror answered.

"and you didn't try after gettin' your own body?" Famine questioned.

"nah. i saw a lot of crap from both of their heads, and we talked about a lot of crap too. i'm not sayin' to forgive them for what they did, all i'm sayin' is to give them a chance." Horror told Famine.

". . . no. not after what they did." Famine refused.

"BROTHER-" Starve started, but Famine walked away, causing Starve to sigh, "SORRY. HE DOESN'T REALLY LISTEN TO ANYONE, EVEN ANOTHER VERSION OF HIMSELF."

"it's fine. if he wants to be a stubborn 개새끼, then let him. i don't care." Murder sighed.

"MURDER, I KNOW HOW MUCH IT HURTS YOU. I JUST... I WANT YOU TO GET ALONG AGAIN." Starve frowned.

". . . it doesn't matter." Murder told him, "like i said, i don't care. it's in the past. he's not gonna let it go, and that's fine."

". . . I'LL STILL VISIT YOU. I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE." Starve told him.

"your brother'll be pissed." Murder pointed out.

"MY BROTHER IS A SELF-RIGHTEOUS HYPOCRITE WHO ONLY CONSIDERS HIMSELF TO BE CORRECT AND CAN BE OBSESSIVELY PROTECTIVE. I, QUITE FRANKLY, DON'T GIVE A DAMN." Starve told him, and Dream smiled a bit as he sensed happiness in Murder's soul.

". . . thanks." Murder said after a moment.

"YOU'RE MOST WELCOME! ALSO, I DON'T BLAME YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID. HE CAN DO THAT ALL HE WANTS, BUT I DON'T. HE MIGHT COME AROUND EVENTUALLY, OR HE MIGHT NOT, I MEAN HE DID USE BLUE MAGIC TO THROW UNDYNE INTO THAT GLITCHY SKELETON'S STRINGS WHEN OUR WORLD WAS DESTROYED, BUT STILL! HIS GRUDGE WITH YOU IS NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT HIS GRUDGE WAS WITH HER!" Starve mentioned.

"Wait wait wait, your world got destroyed?" Undyne questioned, speaking up.

"yeah, it's how you end up in the omega timeline. there's a version of frisk who saved souls from when their aus got deleted by someone named error. he was destroying aus for years before him and ink made a truce, and then the destruction stopped." Murder explained, "i was knocked unconscious in my world, famine told me he took himself and starve here and got out of there, and knife... you never explained that."

"sheath was in the middle of giving everyone a pacifist ending when it happened. he was... halfway through or so, then everything happened." Knife responded.

"you weren't killing on a loop with the brat?" Killer asked.

"nah, not after i killed them." Knife replied.

"and then there was a bunch of stuff between that time and their death, and that was when he met me." Color explained, "once error showed up when i was visiting i grabbed knife and got him out."

"thank you again for that." Knife said.

"you don't need to thank me for that every damn time i bring it up." Color sighed, and Knife shrugged.

The atmosphere was lighter after Famine left, and Dream was getting some strength back, and everything was going well. It was peaceful, quiet, calm... and then his phone rang. Dream sighed quietly, and he saw the crescent moon emoji next to the number, and he answered the phone.

"brother?" Dream asked.

"dream! hey, i uh... i need some help!" Reality responded, and Dream pulled the phone away from his skull as explosions went off.

"what's wrong? who are you fighting?" Dream questioned.

"ink! he showed up like a half hour ago and i can't shake him! i keep teleporting between aus and nothing's working!" Reality responded, and Dream tensed.

"do you have a tracker placed on you? dust's used one on me before." Dream asked.

"not that i know of! he won't let me stop running long enough to look, and every time i try fighting him, he keeps opening portals under my feet!" Reality replied, "he said shattered wants to 'talk to me', which i don't trust at all!"

"get to the omega timeline or sci's lab!" Dream told him urgently, pacing.

"i can't! i don't know how he's following me, i don't want to give him a way to sci's lab if there's some weird loophole in the device, and the omega timeline doesn't have him shielded from him yet!" Reality explained.

"damnit! hang on, i'm coming to help you." Dream told him.

"just hurry!" Reality requested, and the call ended.

"i have to go, ink's after reality and he's not letting up." Dream informed, pocketing his phone again, "color, can you get them home?"

"yeah, sure thing." Color nodded.

"who's reality?" Killer questioned.

"another version of nightmare, he's from a-" Color started explaining, and Dream teleported to where he sensed Reality.

He immediately heard Ink's theme, the song lacking any high beats to it, now one singular pitch for each sound the whole time. Several explosions went off around Dream, and he looked around, seeing Ink firing several black Gaster Blasters at Reality, who had brought up a purple shield. Dream summoned his bow and arrow, firing it at Ink, but he teleported out of the way. They were in a Snowdin of a classic Undertale AU, snow-covered pine trees around them, but it was evident a fight had been going on with how some trees had fallen or were destroyed, and there was blast marks in the snow on the ground.

"thanks." Reality thanked him, teleporting to stand next to him.

"you're welcome. are you hurt?" Dream asked, looking him over, seeing that he was slightly scorched but otherwise fine.

"not really. he's just been trying to capture me more than anything." Reality responded, the purple blades extending from between his fingers again.

Dream looked back at Ink, seeing the new dark gray clothes he'd worn previously now had amber swirls on them, and he clenched his jaw in anger. He didn't seem as tired as the last time Dream saw him, but he seemed slightly winded, even though it was well hidden. Broomie was gripped in his left hand, and he was glaring at them in a way that sent a sharp chill down Dream's spine. His eyelights were so hollow and empty, and yet his expression was so filled with hatred and anger... Dream never thought he'd see Ink look like that, especially not in this emotionless state.

"ink! stop this, now!" Dream called out to him, because as futile as it was, he wouldn't stop trying to get through to him, "we can help you! you don't need to do this!"

"yes i do." Ink responded, lunging at Dream with Broomie, but he dodged, summoning his knives and holding the paintbrush back.

"why?!" Dream questioned.

"because shattered ordered it." Ink responded like it was obvious, kicking Dream's legs out from under him, causing him to fall, and Reality tackled Ink away from him.

"you don't need to listen to his orders!" Reality snapped, "i may not have seen him yet or even met him, but you don't need to do whatever he says! dream has your vials!"

"and he can keep them to remember the friend he lost." Ink responded, and Dream's soul ached, "or more accurately, the ally he lost. he made it clear we aren't friends anymore."

"ink, no! look, if that's what this is about, then... then i'll take it back! we can go right back to how it used to be, i promise! you can come get your vials, and you can join the team again! everything will go back to how it was!" Dream tried.

"no." Ink refused, "it's too late for that. i don't want to go back to that. besides, it wouldn't be the same anyways. blue is dead."

The reminder of Blue caused another ache to go through Dream, and yellow tears formed in his eye sockets as Ink kicked Reality off of him before lunging at him, Reality teleporting next to Dream again.

"i... i know he is, ink, and not a moment goes by that i don't miss him." Dream told him.

"unlike how you don't miss me." Ink frowned, sharp black bones forming behind himself.

"that's not true!" Dream snapped, "i miss you too, ink!"

"i don't miss you." Ink stated, "and i don't want to go back."

"you can't miss me because you can't feel anything, ink!" Dream said in exasperation, "once you drink your paints again that'll change!"

"that's why i don't want my vials back." Ink told him, "the pain finally stopped."

Dream... didn't know how to feel about that, the yellow tears falling down his cheekbones, and Ink lunged again, Reality teleporting them both out of the AU in a swirl of black smoke, Dream wincing from the negativity from within the magic. He unconsciously backed up from Reality after they teleported to this AU, and Reality looked at him apologetically.

"sorry, i absorbed a lot of negativity during the chase..." Reality apologized.

"how's the apple?" Dream questioned, a new concern forming.

Reality summoned it, the glowing yellow apple still having that top left corner tinged a purple color, like an uncleanable stain. Dream was relieved it was alright, but Reality still needed to be careful with it. Too much negativity might corrupt it, and then-

"woah woah, dream, relax. it's ok." Reality said, sensing his emotions, and he put reassuring hands on his shoulder, "it's ok. i'm not gonna end up like he did... it's ok."

The apple went back into Reality's ribcage, and the purple clothed skeleton frowned before reaching a hand up, rubbing the tears off of Dream's face, but more started to form and then those fell. Dream could remember hearing his brother from this world screaming as he was corrupted killed; the confused shouts of the villagers and Dream's own desperation as Nightmare's body crumbled in on itself, the toxic sludge melting through his bones and replacing it. While he was stuck in the stone, the memories of that day lingered in his mind, relentlessly repeating and reminding Dream of who he'd failed to protect- No, Ink would be there soon, they didn't have time for this-

Reality pulled him into a hug, holding onto him tightly, and Dream hugged him back with just as much strength. He felt something small on Reality's back, feeling like a pin, and he realized it was a tracking device, grabbing it before crushing it between his fingers. Dream took a few shaking breaths, and he felt his sadness being drained out of him and lessened to an amount that wouldn't be nearly as overwhelming, and he realized it was Reality's doing.

"reality, you don't need to-" Dream started, but Reality cut him off.

"no, i do. i'm not the only one who absorbed too much negativity, and it's affecting you." Reality responded, and he pulled away from the hug to look Dream over, seeing that the tears had stopped, "besides, you've been hurting enough. you don't need to hurt more."

". . . thank you." Dream thanked him, and his eye sockets widened, seeing Ink watching from a tree.

Dream hadn't taken the time to look around at his surroundings, but now that he did, he saw they were in a thick forest, the grass bright and the trees lush. Ink was in one of these trees, watching them with those haunting white eyelights that did not belong in those eye sockets, and Ink honestly looked bored. Reality seemed to realize Ink was there, likely sensing Dream's emotions, and he released Dream of the hug, turning around to look for and then glare at him.

"are you two done?" Ink questioned.

"yes. i'm surprised you didn't take the opening." Reality mentioned, "why didn't you?"

"i wanted to watch dream cry." Ink shrugged, his theme starting as sharp black bones shot at them.

Dream and Reality teleported out of the way, the bones stabbing into the ground, and Ink summoned Broomie, slashing it at their new location. Dream brought up a yellow shield, preventing them from being harmed, and the bones bounced off of it. Dream dropped the shield, purple claws forming at Reality's fingertips and as he slashed his hand, they shot at Ink, and while he tried to dodge, Dream shot arrows at him, making him stop, and Ink got grabbed by one of the claws. Ink was pulled back by it, the rest gripping onto him, and Dream ducked as he saw what Reality was going to do.

Reality spun in a circle a few times, Ink getting thrown into and through trees all around them, and when Reality had finished the attack, Ink was on the ground, slowly pushing himself up. His clothes were ripped and torn, pine needles and bark all over him, and he was covered in cuts oozing his black paint blood. Ink was panting, legs shaking, and his arm was bent at an angle that made Dream wince. Ink limped over to his paintbrush, grabbing it with the hand of his good arm, and he used it to support his weight.

"this isn't over..." Ink glared at them with that same hateful expression as before, despite how emotionless he was, and he vanished into a black puddle of paint that quickly vanished after he did.

"thanks." Reality thanked him, and Dream nodded, frowning a bit.

"you're welcome..." Dream replied.

". . . are you ok?" Reality questioned, and after a moment, Dream nodded.

"yeah, i'm ok.. i found the tracker, so he won't be able to find you." Dream replied.

"finding the tracker has no relation to how you are, dream..." Reality sighed, "will you please tell me what's wrong?"

"i just... i can't stand seeing him like that.." Dream answered, looking down.

The thought of what Shattered must've done to Ink to make him like this made Dream feel sick, and it also scared him. If Shattered could do that to Ink, what else could he be capable of? Who else could he turn to his side through the same methods?... . . . Dream needed to call them.

". . . I'm going to make some calls, and I'm going to schedule a meeting with some friends. they're not usually involved in multiversal affairs, but with this... that'll probably change." Dream told him, "and you're coming, and so are the others."

Reality nodded, seeming confused, but he was going along with it. Dream just hoped they would listen, and he grabbed his phone, setting up the group call...

Error was standing out of one of the meeting halls in Undertale: Universe ID: 2945, Timeline ID: 40006, and he was wondering why the hell he was here. The doors were purple, the floor tan tiles, and Error had his red glasses taped to his skull so that he could see clearly. All Dream said was something like 'there's a meeting with some other people that we'll be hopefully working with! You need to come with so we can bla bla bla, bla bla bla bla-'

. . . Don't give me that face.

I see you.

Error sighed, crossing his arms and tapping on his upper right arm with his pointer finger impatiently. The anomalies were around him, Error making sure they kept their damn distance, and he honestly wanted this meeting done and over with. Not only were they staring into the back of his skull, and sure, he'd destroyed their AUs, but that doesn't mean they get to glare at him when he's going out of his way to help them. He could sit back and watch them get ripped apart by their souls, but Blue wouldn't want that. Ugh, here he goes with Blue again. Sure, he'd liked that anomaly and enjoyed his company, but that didn't mean he cared about what he wanted.

Quit lying to yourself.

You  care.

You miss him.

He was your friend.

It's your fault he's dead.

Your fault.

Your fault.

Y         o     U     R          f         A u         L     T

"error?" Error's eyelights snapped to Dream, seeing him looking at him in concern, "are you ok?"

Error paused for a moment, and then he responded, "yeah, i'm fine. let's just get this over with."

Dream didn't seem convinced, but Error didn't care. He grabbed the doorhandle of the door and swung it open. Error saw the gray inconvenience of a Frisk, the dirty hacker, and... Reaper... Reaper's brother too. Error went to back out of the room, but Dream was already entering, and Error didn't want any of them near him, so he reluctantly entered the room, sitting across from Reaper, and making sure he wasn't near anyone else.

The gray Frisk whose existence Error loathed had light gray skin, big black circle eyes, dark gray hair, a gray and light gray striped shirt, and the rest was hidden by the table. The filthy hacker had red hair, gray skin, red irises, black sclera, and a black and red striped sweater. Reaper was in his usual black cloak, a Gaster Blaster clasp on brown rope, no fibers straying from it, and the Gaster Blaster clasp perfectly centered. The cloak was floaty towards the back of Reaper's hood, like a whisp, and it was pulled over his skull just enough to cast the perfect amount of shadow over his face- he was not gonna do this here nope nope nope nope nope.

Reaper's brother was sitting next to him with the same outfit but the rope for him acted like hoodie strings. Error was looking off to the left, and Reality sat next to him, giving him a knowing look, and Error gave him a subtle middle finger, pulling up his stitched on dark blue hood after untucking it from his blue scarf. He would like to teleport out of here, but Dream probably wouldn't let that happen, and Error was putting up with this for him instead of going back to the Antivoid. 

Dream sat down on Reality's other side, and the other anomalies were around the table. Reaper was across from Error at the other, far end of the table, his brother next to him on his left, next to him was an empty seat, then the gray pest, then the red and black hacker, then the Storyshift: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID:ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Chara was next to him. Next to them was Blue's brother, Underswap: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Papyrus who was shooting glares at Error, then an Undertale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Sans, and then an empty space between him and Error.

Next to Reality was Dream, then Dusttale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Sans , then the Something New: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Kill_Sans, then the Othertale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, and then Fresh was there, because of course he was, and then the empty space and then Reaper.

Error sighed, looking down at the large wooden table, and then he looked up as the filthy hacker spoke up, "So, Dream, you called this meeting, right? What's going on?"

"well, you know about ink, right?" Dream asked.

". . . no?" Reaper responded, seeming confused, "i haven't seen him in a while, but then again, i haven't seen you in a while either. i don't have an inkling of an idea of where he is."

The gray pest and the dirty hacker snorted, amused, and Reality sighed.

"look, i'm from another multiverse, like dream mentioned on the phone, and while he didn't elaborate much, i'm going to. i'm nightmare in another multiverse, one where everything is reversed from what we know. i wound up like dream did here, and the dream of my multiverse..." Reality trailed off.

"Is just like Nightmare here." The gray pest finished, "Which is very bad, and that Dream got to Ink."

"IF THAT DREAM IS ANYTHING LIKE NIGHTMARE, THAT SOUNDS LIKE BAD NEWS! WE NEED TO RESCUE HIM!" Reaper's brother spoke up.

"it's too late for that." Dream sighed, looking down, "by the time i saw him again, he was..."

Dream couldn't seem to finish his sentence, and Error sighed, finishing it for him, "the other version of dream's controlling him like a puppet. he separated ink from his vials and he's drained dry. the creators have been screaming for him and he hasn't responded. i don't think he can even hear them anymore."

"then just give him his paints back. we have those, right?" Reaper suggested, "sounds like an easy enough fix."

"that's the problem, ink doesn't want them back. he's choosing to stay with shattered..." Dream frowned, "we've tried twice now."

"That... isn't like him at all." The hacker frowned, "I've only met him a few times, but he loves those vials."

"exactly." Dream sighed, "i'm partially to blame for this-"

"no, you're not." Error cut him off, "ink didn't call you for help, you didn't know what was happening. ink is just being stubborn and stupid like usual."

"he's not you throwing a tantrum." Dusttale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Sans muttered.

Error went to snap back, but Dream held up his hands, saying, "guys, don't. please. we're here to talk, not fight. we need a way to deal with this."

". . . fine..." Error grumbled, slouching into his chair and pouting glaring down at his lap.

"So... ink is with this other dream, and he's fighting you, right? Then he gets dealt with." The filthy, stupid hacker summed up, "Why were you talking about how this is more dangerous than anything else in the multiverse?"

"because shattered is working with nightmare, and red told me about how a dusttale sans that nightmare recruited was out recruiting entire aus, including his. i got him and his brother out of there, but the rest of his au is going to be attacking another one. this will be an all out war, and this isn't even the biggest problem." Dream sighed.

"sooo the aus fight back." Reaper said like it was obvious, "dream, i'm the god of death, you said this was a threat to me and my brother, that's why i came here. i'm not seeing anything that's a threat to gods."

. . . Error didn't understand why he liked Reaper sometimes. Sure, it was remnants from some other code within Error's mind that he was locked out from accessing, like a private file that he couldn't access but could know the existence of. Error had tried accessing it before, but all he could get were pixels and static, and then if he did see something, he would crash and forget it.

"does he have to spell it out for you?" Error asked, "shattered is controlling ink, meaning any information ink knows, shattered has access to, and so does nightmare. the entire script of your au, every single detail about you, your strengths, weaknesses, anything, shattered can access it."

"when i saw ink the first time after he disappeared, his clothes were covered in rips and tears, soaked in his own blood, and he was just... he looked broken. he did whatever that version of me told him without hesitation, without a second thought, even bowed at the sight of him. . . . if that can be done to ink, what do you think can happen to all of you?..." Dream questioned, and Error saw when realization hit.

". . . oh crap." Reaper muttered.

"THAT... SOUNDS VERY BAD..." Reaper's brother frowned, worried.

". . . Yeah, I can see why you called the meeting now..." The filthy hacker said.

"about #### time..." Error muttered, and he sent a glare at Fresh.

"sorry, bruh! no swears in here!" The neon annoyance apologized insincerely.

"go to ####..." Error muttered angrily.

"guys..." Dream sighed, "please?"

"he started it!" Error pointed out.

"dream's ending it." Reality crossed his arms.

"yeah bruh, no need to get so worked up." The nineties parasite smirked.

"you're just pissing him off for fun?" Something New: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Kill_Sans asked, causing Error to let out a glitchy growl, "i think we'll get along just fine~"

"seriously, knife? you're only speaking up to help someone piss someone off?" Dusttale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Sans questioned with a glare, receiving snickers from the one he was glaring at.

"knife, please?" Othertale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND requested with a sigh.

"yeah, go ahead, abomination, do whatever your puppetmaster tells you to." Error responded.

"he isn't a puppet!" Othertale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND snapped, glaring at him.

"whatever you say, anomaly." Error rolled his eyelights.

"he's not an anomaly." Something New: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Kill_Sans told him, putting an arm around the anomaly's shoulders, "he's a color."

"his au doesn't even exist anymore, and his code was removed from the au beforehand." Error pointed out, eye sockets narrowed as they started to itch from his strings trying to summon, "you don't even identify as a sans anymore either, you two are some of the biggest glitches here other than the one that is literally from a completely different multiverse."

". . . at least i'm not a psychotic, glitchy, temper-tantrum throwing hypocrite that destroys things without any other reason than you think they shouldn't exist, even though you're a bigger anomaly than everyone else, and yet you haven't offed yourself yet." Something New: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Kill_Sans glared.

"why you little-!" Error started, fingers painfully pulling out the itching blue strings, the others at the table growing on guard, and Something New: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Kill_Sans only grabbed a knife from his pocket.

"error i would consider things very carefully." Reality spoke up, causing Error to tense, looking at the skeleton, the teal in his left eyelight having expanded to fill half of it.

Error could hear Nightmare as he'd continued speaking that day, and a few error warnings filled his vision, blocking it out.

-th  at sa  ns and t  he others i've recruite  d are und er m  y   pro  te    ctio   n - y  ou will not   so m  uch as h arm a   single point of  a  ny of their    hp  s - don't    pic  k a figh  t you c  an't win, e  rror. i h ave  no c  ode for y ou to   destro  y   o r    cont  rol - 

More error messages filled up Error's vision, and he could feel his body glitching as static rippled through him, and he could feel Nightmare's tentacles squeezing him, and the sudden rush and jolt of fear was enough to freeze him in place while making him want to flee. The strings coming out of his eye sockets were burning, and everything was being blocked out by all of the error messages, static filling his mind to where he couldn't hear anything around him but the static and the words that came next.

"i f you d  are - tou  ch  one fragm ent of th eir c  odes or thr  eaten th em  agai n -   i will  lock y  ou in that   hell in  sid e  y our mind fo r the  r est of  you r   ex  iste nc  e - ca n  no  l  onge r scr  eam - ca n't  remem ber   anyt hing - i will t urn  you  into a gro  veling, sha king,   whimp ering     m e ss  at my fe et , b  eggi ng - m  ercy - in di scr  etio n   yo u ca n't - rem  em ber  - i w   ill br ea k   - w ill - s  tub  born nes s   in  t hat  gl itc  hin g   s o  ul, - yo  u r  o nly  ho  pe of   me rcy  is   m e  de  cidi n g   t o tur    n y  ou int o a te  rri  fie  d   p et - des  perat e   to  a v oid   a  ny  p unishm  ent - lik e the pat he  tic g  litch   yo  u ar e .

d o       y ou           un de   rsta  nd           me  ,         error ?  " 

Error crashed.

System booting up.

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

System Rebooted.

Scanning for accessible files .

Scanning for accessible files . .

Scanning for accessible files . . .

Scanning for accessible files .

Scanning for accessible files . .

Scanning for accessible files . . .

Scanning for accessible files .

Scanning for accessible files . .

Scanning for accessible files . . .

Scan complete.

Accessing...

Accessed files 425435/539571

Unaccessed files: 144235/144348 files in Category: Geno

Launching CPU Vision Processing.

Launching CPU Auditory Processing.

Launching CPY Scent Processing.

Launching CPU Taste Processing.

Launching CPU Touch Processing.

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

Rebooting .

Rebooting . .

Rebooting . . .

Error's eye sockets cleared up, a massive headache slamming into him, and he let out a glitching, staticky groan, pinching the bridge of his nasal cavity. Everything around him was a blur of colors, noise, and more static. He could make out distant sounding voices, his vision pixelated even with the glasses, and he couldn't understand what was being said yet over his own body glitching. It was slowly stabilizing itself, his vision clearing up, and he could see Dream in front of him- too close too close too close too close too close-

Error tried backing up from Dream, falling back and out of the chair, landing with a grunt on the ground, and when Dream automatically went to help him up, he scrambled back at least a few feet, taking the time to try to breathe, and he managed to calm himself down. He managed to ignore the looks everyone was giving him, and he saw a pair of faint amber eyelights he would investigate later watching from the rafters of the room, the source of them hidden by shadows. Error saw Dream still a few feet away, looking helpless, and Error spoke up.

"i '  m  fin e . .. " Error reassured, voice glitching a few times.

"um... what was that?..." Reality questioned, Error's mismatched eyelights flicking up to look at him.

"i crashed." Error explained.

"yeah, they explained that, you were out for like... fifteen minutes, but why did you crash?" Reality asked.

"just remembered something, that's all." Error responded.

"does it have to do with nightmare?" Dream guessed, and Error's body glitched a few times, a few error messages filling his eye sockets before they vanished after a few moments, "i'm taking that as a yes... do you want to talk about it yet?"

"no." Error refused.

"Something happened?" Dusttale: Universe ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Timeline ID: ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND, Character ID: Sans questioned.

"a while ago, yes... i won't go into detail about it, though, i'll just say nightmare did something to error that he wouldn't explain, be it a threat or something else, and it was... bad." Dream frowned.

"Good thing we agreed to help." The dirty hacker spoke up, and Error paused.

"what?" Error asked.

"while you were... you know... we talked everything out and we agreed to work together." Reaper informed, Error looking up at him.

"really?" Error was surprised.

"heh, yeah. we're chill and you're chilled to the bone." Reaper smirked.

"ugh...." Error sighed, and then he remembered those eyelights from before, and he glanced up, seeing.... that slimy little... "hey, ink doesn't know about this meeting, right?"

"no, he has no idea." Dream shook his skull no.

"how much you wanna bet?" Error questioned, and Dream and the others followed where Error was looking.

"ink!" Dream exclaimed, the amber eyelights turning white and locking onto Dream.

". . . boo?" Ink tilted his skull, still looking down at them, and Error grit his teeth.

"the hell are you doing here, squid?!" Error demanded.

"what do you think, glitch?" Ink countered, which surprised Error.

Ink was never sassy when he was emotionless.

"oh, soooooo mature." Error rolled his eyelights.

"unlike you." Ink responded, and Error's eye sockets twitched, growing itchy.

"How long were you up there?" The dirty hacker questioned.

"not that long. what happened here again?" Ink sounded confused, but Error saw right through it.

"don't play dumb! we both know your memory is flawless without your damn vials!" Error snapped.

"does he always do this now?" Reaper asked quietly.

"yup. every damn time." Reality whispered back with a sigh.

". . . at least unlike you i need to play dumb." Ink told Error.

"that does it!" Error yelled.

He summoned several sharp, glitchy red bones, and he fired them at Ink, the stupid squid dodging, heading out a window up by the rafters, getting outside of the room. Error teleported after him, finding him outside, and he summoned multiple Gaster Blasters, shooting their blasts at Ink. The squid brought up a paint wall, blocking it, and Error heard movement behind himself. He turned around to see Ink lunging at him, eye sockets wide and black, his mouth looking like a vampire jack-o-lantern, and Error's eye sockets widened. He hated when he made that damn face.

Error ducked down, Ink flying over him, and he managed to get a good look at him. Ink was wearing a dark gray, tattered scarf, a hood attached to it and it had been covering his skull, but it wasn't anymore, and his sash was now black, pockets where the vials were, and he had a few paintbrushes on it too. His shirt was black with dark gray shoulders, he was wearing dust gray fingerless gloves, the color going up his sleeves, so it might just be actual dust, his pants were now black leggings, and he was actually wearing shoes now, which were black. He had amber spirals around his waist going up his sides, and then there was more around his shoulders, curling halfway down his arms. Then there was a mark next to his right eye socket, looking like three tentacles, one curling around his cheekbone, and then the other two curled around his skull. 

"shattered really made it clear you were his puppet, huh? all you're missing is the strings." Error scowled, and Ink rolled his eyelights at him.

"at least i don't look like a hobo." Ink countered, and Error's hands curled into fists.

"i'd rather look like a hobo than that. how the mighty have fallen, huh squid?" Error taunted, and they started circling each other, Ink gripping Broomie in his left hand.

"don't talk bad about yourself so much, ruru." Ink replied, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face that filled Error with unease and disgust.

"you know i hate being called that." Error glared, "and what the hell are you doing? stop it, it's weird."

"what's weird?" Ink asked, feigning confusion, and Error scoffed.

"that! faking emotions like that! stop it, it's weird!" Error snapped, "why are you doing that anyways? your puppet master tell you to?"

"no, but he finds it entertaining, so that's another benefit." Ink responded, "and he's not my puppet master."

"and what's the original reason?" Error questioned.

"it makes it easier to fit in." Ink answered, and he seemed to have enough talking because he lunged at Error again.

Error grabbed Ink with his strings, slamming him down into the ground, but Ink quickly recovered, getting up and creating several black Gaster Blasters, firing them at Error. He brought up a bone shield, blocking the blast, but he was suddenly met with Broomie slamming into his side and then he was slamming into a tree. Error looked up to see Ink there, walking towards him, and Error let out a glitchy grumble.

"you would like it more on our side, you know. it's more fun." Ink informed, and Error scoffed.

"yeah no, i'm not interested." Error refused, pulling himself up, pulling the itching strings out of his eye sockets no matter how painful it was.

"why? you wouldn't need to play tea party with them. with shattered, you could do everything solo, just get orders from him." Ink continued.

"because i won't be anyone's puppet like you are." Error hissed.

"i'm not a puppet." Ink denied stupidly.

"then what are you?" Error asked.

"loyal to him." Ink answered.

"oh, so you're a brainwashed idiot. got it. so you're still a puppet being used against your own friends." Error rolled his eyelights.

"they aren't my friends." Ink responded.

"then who is?" Error questioned.

"none of your business." Ink replied, and Error jumped up as sharp black bones shot out of the ground, Ink summoning Gaster Blasters and firing them.

Error and Ink exchanged several attacks rapidly, altering between bones, Gaster Blasters, and Ink using Broomie and different paint attacks to make Error's life more difficult. Error's glasses got knocked off during the fight, making Ink just a black and dark gray blob, and he was harder to hit, but Error was managing. That is until Ink managed to get one over on him, tackling him and squeezing Error's neck. His haphephobia kicked in immediately, filling him with blind panic that made him start frantically trying to get away, error messages filling up his vision as Ink was trying to strangle him, and sure, he didn't need air, but the physical contact was terrifying him.

Ink was suddenly gone, and most of Error's panic and fear was abruptly sucked out of him. He saw a purple blob fighting the black blob, which was probably Reality fighting Ink, and there was a lot of glowing purple blurs, Error staying out of it because of the aura Reality was giving off. It seemed like Reality won, though, since Ink retreated, and the purple blob that was Reality was walking over to Error, becoming clearer as he approached, the aura growing but it seemed unintentional. Reality crouched down in front of Error, and he held out something red to him.

What was... oh, right his glasses. Error accepted them, putting them back on, and he looked up at Reality's face. Reality's right eyelight was still that bright purple, and his left was three fourth's a very familiar teal. Error froze, glitches riddling his body as Nightmare's appearance briefly replaced Reality's before returning to normal, and Error heard the static starting up again.

"are you ok?" Reality asked.

Error crashed.

Error.exe has stopped running.

Discord server: https://discord.gg/wQfvxyEuvj

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[agent-troi]

Borrowed Time (WIP Ask game)

ohhh boy this behemoth will never see the light of day but I'm so happy you asked about this one bc as complicated as it is I love thinking and talking about it lol

so this was meant to be a fix-it for the ending of the star trek novelverse. some important background info: the coda trilogy wrapped up the novelverse basically by retroactively wiping that timeline from existence to avert a threat to the entire multiverse, because apparently with all the new shows and tie-in novels people thought it would be too confusing to also keep the novelverse books going. well that made me pissed as hell so I wrote this short fic, The Forgotten Splinter, bringing back one of my favorite and criminally underused characters, Riker and Troi's daughter Tasha, and Borrowed Time was meant to be a follow up to that.

I have a partial outline complete with chapter titles and extensive notes on what I wanted to happen, but at some point the idea just got too complicated and overwhelming for me to contemplate lol. the short of it is that Tasha gets her memories back from the First Splinter Timeline as well as the other timeline branches that were erased, and she and the gang work together to restore that timeline while also eliminating the threat from the Devidians.

I ended up not writing very much of it except for a list of chapter titles (in rough chronological order) and one passage:

Weddings and Funerals

Sole Survivor

The Reflecting Game

Unsung Heroes

After the Silence

Out of the Silent Wormhole

We Seek the Paradox

What's Good for the Goose

Sound and Fury

More than Memory

There but for the Grace of God

Hail Mary Ex-Machina

Roll for Initiative

The Thousandth Knife

When the Dealing's Done

“The First Splinter Timeline.” Tasha laughed bitterly. “You have no idea what we did for you. What we sacrificed… and this timeline? This timeline is shit! Your version of the Federation literally banned an entire class of life-forms, and didn’t even bother to make an exception when the child of two Starfleet heroes’ life was at stake!” The Troi-Rikers visibly blanched. “And you!” Tasha exclaimed, swiveling toward Picard. “You’re a bloody admiral! Whatever happened to ‘don’t let them promote you, don’t let them transfer you, don’t let them do anything that takes you off the bridge of that ship, because while you’re there, you can make a difference’?” She paused to take a deep breath. “And why didn’t you tell Beverly you love her? She wanted you to go after her, fight for her, not let her go!” Picard was stunned speechless. Tasha continued her rant unabated. “Our timeline wasn’t perfect, but it was better than this! What kind of multiverse is this, where the timeline in which things go mostly right has to be erased from causation, while this shit timeline with all the unnecessary angst and dramatic tension gets to live on? It’s not fair, dammit!” By this point Tasha was nearly hysterical, and the tears poured in a seemingly endless flood down her cheeks. The multiple timelines’ worth of trauma she had been suppressing for six years had finally burst forth from the dam of her subconscious. Deanna’s soul cried out in pure and complete empathy. She had entertained similar thoughts ever since Thad’s diagnosis. Why did their timeline have to be the one where he died? The whole thing had made absolutely no sense, as if whoever was writing the story of their lives got a kick out of torturing their characters.

I came up with this after Picard season one aired but before two and three, so I didn't incorporate any of that into this idea lol, anyway I had some vague notion that this would be the first installment of an epic trilogy, but almost no one read my novelverse fic when I was actively writing and posting about it so I don't really have much motivation to make it happen

[catcas22]

So I've been a fan of your fics and theories for a little while now, and wanted to know what your thoughts on Evergaols are, and how they work?

Thanks for the ask! Cut because this was longer than I expected it to be lol.

So, first the obvious bits. Evergaols are clearly some form of containment for extremely dangerous/high-value prisoners. This makes sense in a world where death is so unpredictable.

Note the three forms of execution we see favored throughout the game, so widespread that they basically just become part of the background -- hanging, crucifixion, (leaves the victim in a position where even if they come back, they'll just die again) and burning at the stake (completely destroys the body).

So in a world where execution may or may not stick, evergaols serve as a permanent way to neutralize dangerous enemies.

The central glyph on an evergaol glows purple, and so does the rift that the prisoner climbs out of. That, plus the appearance/behavior of the abnormal stone clusters, leads me to believe that evergaols run on gravity magic.

One thing I'm not clear on -- when fighting an evergaol boss, the player does what I'll call a "phase-shift," i.e. treating the evergaol as sort of a new area (same as when you do an invasion). But I'm not entirely sure whether the "phase-shift" and the fog wall present during the evergaol fight are meant to be diegetic or non-diegetic.

So, follow me here. Think about how the game handles the built-in, non-multiplayer invasions. When you help Yura fight the Ravenmount Assassin, you go through a phase-shift and show up in your bloodred invasion form.

But those are both game mechanics. Within the internal logic of the story, you just encounter Yura and the assassin on the bridge. You aren't transported to another dimension, and you aren't suddenly turned red from head to toe.

So now I'm asking myself what actually happens within the internal logic of the world when you open an evergaol. Are you transported into a pocket dimension where the prisoner is being held? Or does interacting with the evergaol release the prisoner into the overworld, and the phase-shift and fog wall are non-diegetic game mechanics?

Idk if any of that makes sense (I feel like I'm not making sense lol) but thanks for the ask!

[path-of-arceus]

Chapter 2

7 day has passed, Shenlan walked out of Wallace's house. For the first time since the incident which he needs to recover from. The world outside looks so serene and pretty, it's like a dream, a paradise for him.

"So..." Wallace's voice breaks his silence. "What do you think about this place, the Sootopolis City?"

"This place looks... amazing!"

"Oh, don't get excited yet, kid." Wallace chuckles. "You barely seen anything yet!"

Wallace reaches out his hand forward, this taken Shenlan by surprise as the boy flinched backwards slightly.

"Come, there are still a lot of places that you need to see."

Shenlan hesitates, Wallace nods his head, reassuring the boy. Shenlan lets out a smile and grabs Wallace's hand, they started to descend the many stairs of the city. The air feels cold, at least, it's not what he is used to from living in Bay City for 13 years.

He gazes at the beautiful lake, the same lake that nearly took my life, he thoughts, sadly, trying to not get his thoughts wrapped in what happened a week ago. He tilts his head as notices a certain building, build on a small island a but far from the main land.

"Is that building... meant to be there?" Shenlan asked curiously, marveled by the wonders of this world more than anything else.

Wallace starts to chuckle. "Oh, that is the Sootopolis Gym, a place where other young trainers can try earning a badge to earn the right to fight the Champion of Hoenn."

"If it was meant to be a place where young trainers get to show off their skill... why is it placed in the middle of this lake?"

"That is the point." Wallace responds eagerly. "Some trainers are not allowed to surf across waters until they are skilled enough to do so."

Shenlan nods his head, beginning to understand the basic concept of this world. While he certainly doesn't know what any of that mean, he is very interested in this world.

"This world is massive and there will be time where people were let out into the world to explore the wonders."

Wallace pats the boy on the head, as he gently smiles at him.

"Come, there are still more things i need to show you."

Wrapping his arm on the boy's shoulder, they went towards a lovely scenery, a serene and beautiful bridge towards a small island with giant tree looming over them.

"This tree is so... Massive..." Shenlan commented. "Probably the first time i have ever seen a tree in this size in my life..."

"Ahh..." Wallace turns around. "This tree was given to us by a rather mysterious man, who is as old as time and as big as this tree he gave to us."

Shenlan nods his head, he is impressed at what the world has to offer. More than his own world.

"But that's not what i'm here to show you." Wallace speaks, he turns around towards a beautiful cave entrance. "This is what i wanted to show you."

"This place looks awesome!"

"Glad to see you like this place." Wallace responds. "This is the Cave of Origins, the crown jewel of this city, it's what this place is known for."

Wallace takes a deep breath.

"As the protector of the Cave of Origin, i have a sense of duty to this place, you see." Wallace continues. "It's not a title you can just receive."

In the distance, a metallic wing flaps can be heard heading towards their direction. Wallace turns his head around and smiles.

"Ah." He eagerly exclaimed. "There is Steven."

A giant metalic bird landed softly near where they stand. Steven hops down, with a mysterious egg on his hand.

"Hello Steven." Wallace greets him enthusiastically. "... What is that?"

Steven smiles, he turns around to face Shenlan. He reaches out his hand, giving the egg to the boy.

"You want me to... Have it?" Asked Shenlan, hesitates.

Steven nods his head.

"Alright then, if you say so."

Shenlan steps forward, gently taking the egg from Steven's hand. Wallace walks over to Steven, he smiles as he gently kisses Steven's forehead. Steven smiles back in return as he leans closer to Wallace.

"Thank you, Steven!"

Steven smiles and nods his head. Wallace walks back over to Shenlan.

"Now take care of the egg." He said. "It will be your forever companion in your journey."

Shenlan nods, he hugs the egg closer to him. He can feel an enthusiastic heartbeat coming from the egg.

"Let's get the egg safely back home." Wallace suggests. "To make sure it's safe before i show you around."

As they began to walk back up the steps, Shenlan heard voices of someone speaking behind him. It couldn't possibly be Steven, he had heard his voice before. This voice sounds and feels different

"What's wrong, kid?"

The sudden voice startle the boy, he lets out a chuckle before following behind Wallace.

[mdhwrites]

Since you started Arcane I gotta ask. I think you mentioned about Powder not reacting accordingly to her family death from the bomb... on that scene she was sorry to Vi she messed up not that she killed their father basically. Vi reacted "normally" but Powder didn't show any remorse.

Do you think she became numb to "death" since she witnessed it from a young age with her parents on the bridge? Vi was a bit older so maybe she conceptualized it already. Since then it's clear they faced death many times around, Zaun is harsh environment/upbringing after all, what's horrible to us is average there. I think she may have became a sociopath from it. Vi as well to an extent but only to strangers, death of close ones will still affect her, Jinx cares if only Vi dies tho (well not just her. Actually I'd add more to that but it'll be spoilers until u finish so I'll wait)

So first: I won't be finishing Arcane. That sucks but at least until I can bury my own trauma from my brother, I just can't have that casting a shadow over it. It'll make it hard for me to enjoy any of it, let alone review it properly.

However, I actually want to rebuff this analysis of how Powder reacts and try and be a bit fairer myself. First: She does technically react to her father's death but she never apologizes. She instead acts like a small, frightened child. She starts shutting down, wanting to be assured things will be okay. That things are okay. It's a very classic response to this sort of trauma, not helped by the fact that, as someone else pointed out, Vi had taught her to react to things with violence but now violence was getting her in trouble.

That is the counterpoint though, isn't it? Milo says in the first episode that Vi was twice the person Powder was and I kind of have to wonder if that meant she actually, you know... Was a member of Zaun. Was a member of the violence and trouble. Even worse when you remember that while they're young, Powder still looks at least 5 during the battle at the bridge that claimed their parents. That KILLED their PARENTS. And she isn't breaking down or running from the scary man who just murdered an enforcer in that scene.

And the rest of the first three episodes are warring with itself over how to write Powder. Is she a ruthless child of Zaun, out for blood and to make a name for herself? The sort that would have absolutely godlike aim even at her age, at the point where she can far surpass others who are years older than her with ease? All while having a cold, expressionless face until she's done with her task? Or is she the innocent? The one who can only run and who seems damn near traumatized by the sight of just a street brawl happening in front of her? The noise fades out and echoes while things go into more slow mo like most media does to show something horrifying, which the street fight in episode 1 seems to supposed to be for Powder, but like... Is that REALLY the first street fight she's seen? Milo even says she needs to take a punch like she's literally never been hit, which does have the horror of Vi being the first person to hit her but this is the same person who made an explosive monkey filled with a material she knew could do some REAL damage to people and property.

It's still done well enough that Powder isn't awful. The pain of the last scenes of episode 3 are still mostly earned and I even admitted in my original review that I had to recognize that I had a problem due to personal elements. After all, characters can be multifaceted, have different sides to them, etc. like that... But that works a lot better for adults like Vander who have had the life experience to turn one side on and one side off. Even then, you still see a core of a person in there.

Meanwhile, Powder is fighting between the innocent little girl who's meant to die and her champion form, Jinx, and those parts to me are just a bit too incongruous. A little too at odds without a bit more smoothing out. It's SO close to being right though that I do want to cut it more slack than I originally did.

[beardedmrbean]

Oh yeah Ronald Erwin McNair, sorry I thought he was on that other space shuttle that fell apart during launch.

Also that program with Nichelle Nichols, I recall a lot of space exploration and travel polices were created to prevent another colonial empires power struggle which gave us the world wars and the eugenics horror show.

So space was showed to be “EVERY HUMAN CAN BE IN OUTER SPACE!” Now of course only humans of peak condition can be astronauts but stuff like Star Trek suppose to show a possible future where we all can coexist with each other.

Of course NASA was like “okay let not pull a Nazi and show that non whites and women can be astronauts too” but when most of your organization made up of geeky white people…

I can see why Nichelle Nichols was chosen as she inspired many people especially in the blacks and women into science with her uhura role.

And the whole racial tension that she of all people understands. So she basically help convince a lot of black people and women who you know grew up in segregation and heavy gender roles so NASA definitely felt like an out of reach idea for them.

Sorry you are a bigger NASA fan than me. I’m just curious how da fuck is math racist when we had a black astronaut that grew up in the Deep South?

🤨

He was, that was his 2nd flight, Challenger, Jan 28 1986. That's a day embedded in my memory.

NASA has pretty much always been THE government agency that didn't care about anything other than if you can do the job, obviously politics still showed up and they weren't going to send a woman or black man to the moon, woman bit was less sexist than it was a technology and biology thing, going potty and all, still sexism but it was really more cost effective to not have to worry about the other bits.

Nichelle Nichols thing, I hope she fully grasped how important she was to women in general and black women especially. This is the best anecdote about her, at least that fits the theme.

Roddenberry knew what he had created already, why else have a black woman and a Russian on the bridge crew, Nichols found out when Dr King let her know what she meant.

She also wrote that she had "a short, stormy, exciting relationship" with Sammy Davis Jr. in 1959.

GIRL!!! lol

>Sorry you are a bigger NASA fan than me. I’m just curious how da fuck is math racist when we had a black astronaut that grew up in the Deep South?

And a physicist at that.

It's not, I think the issue is that people don't like that there's going to be a right and a wrong answer for math, 1+1 will always equal 2 is problematic somehow.

There's also claims that the way it's taught is geared toward white students, which I'm not sure how that works, but even if that's true they're playing to the majority which sure would come out discriminatory but that's a no win situation unless you bring back segregation.

It's reading but, I think we may be in the market for this happening in math too.

As a teacher in Oakland, Calif., Kareem Weaver helped struggling fourth- and fifth-grade kids learn to read by using a very structured, phonics-based reading curriculum called Open Court. It worked for the students, but not so much for the teachers. “For seven years in a row, Oakland was the fastest-gaining urban district in California for reading,” recalls Weaver. “And we hated it.”

The teachers felt like curriculum robots—and pushed back. “This seems dehumanizing, this is colonizing, this is the man telling us what to do,” says Weaver, describing their response to the approach. “So we fought tooth and nail as a teacher group to throw that out.” It was replaced in 2015 by a curriculum that emphasized rich literary experiences. “Those who wanted to fight for social justice, they figured that this new progressive way of teaching reading was the way,” he says.

Now Weaver is heading up a campaign to get his old school district to reinstate many of the methods that teachers resisted so strongly: specifically, systematic and consistent instruction in phonemic awareness and phonics. “In Oakland, when you have 19% of Black kids reading—that can’t be maintained in the society,” says Weaver, who received an early and vivid lesson in the value of literacy in 1984 after his cousin got out of prison and told him the other inmates stopped harassing him when they realized he could read their mail to them. “It has been an unmitigated disaster.” In January 2021, the local branch of the NAACP filed an administrative petition with the Oakland unified school district (OUSD) to ask it to include “explicit instruction for phonemic awareness, phonics, fluency, vocabulary, and comprehension” in its curriculum.

From a different article same subject

I like that they put the numbers in this one,

But ya, they didn't like the system they had and even though they were getting year to year improvements with it they changed it because why not throw students under the bus.

Maybe they should learn from Ron McNair, but that would be the students taking the initiative and learning on their own, which might require a sea change in the community as it relates to education.

There's a reason this program has kept going since 1987, but ya colonization of students minds, there's a math one too not sure how good that is.

And there's people who just can't get some math honestly, I know I'm one of them, full spectrum dyslexia is not something I'd wish on anyone.