#that's still part of him!!! how does he cope!!!!??

[maryholdenofthevalley]

One character is easy to feel related to, the black sheep who doesn't follow the norm but still resigns to the system and silently copes with it because it's too big to handle alone, make millions of mistakes but it's okay because he's silly like us.

But another same punk, coping, silly character finally snaps and tries to change the system by actually do something loud and clear about it despite knowing first hands how hard can it be himself and has to sacrifice by leaving the place he loves the most to do it.

And suddenly he's the bad guy making a "mistake"? For what, for trying to do the right thing and protect the people and places he loves? For not blindly follow emotions and just fuck it and yeet to the end of the universe that would ultimately met it demise despite having the chance to change it right in front of him?

I will fight hand-to-hand with anyone slander Aziraphale just because they don't vibe with him like Crowley despite them being the same fucking counter part of each other, just with different fighting style. Crowley refers to strike in the dark where no bosses will know and hinder him, and Aziraphale does it legally. What's wrong with that???? You're saying a system is corrupt there for there is no use to stand up to it????? Are you guys seriously saying that right now??

the the main character who isnt the fan favourite makes one mistake and now the whole fandom hates them and mischaracterizes them so i have to become their self-designated defender (this is about aziraphale and sam winchester i fear)

[glitter-stained]

Another day another ask mysteriously disappearing from my inbox when i'm about to hit post on the reply

Anyway the question was basically "what do you think of the "Jason isn't able to get over his death while bruce is capable of forgiving joe chill and sitting by him as he dies" take and doesn't it sound a little like the "everybody died he ain't special " take?"

Why yes. Yes it does sound like that. My thoughts on that idea, in no particular order:

- it's almost 2025 are we still placing moral judgement on characters based on the comparison between how they're enduring their trauma what happened to the universal singularity of human suffering what happened to not comparing apples and bananas weren't we taught not to do that in elementary school

-Is this about the Three Joker comics? It sounds like it is, anyway uh that comics is not mainline (and has pretty shitty writing imo), in mainline even in his least flattering runs (ie Battle for the Cowl) Jason hasn't gone postal because of his death in a while (in BTFC it was Bruce's death and the mention of the "unresolved dark horrors of his childhood" triggering a bad parody of some sort of psychotic break) so like i guess criticizing Jason for something he isn't doing is kinda strange

-if anything Bruce is the one "not over" Jason's death considering the flashback he had right at the beginning of Failsafe arc (though of course demanding he just gets over the trauma of holding his dead son's corpse is just as absurd as demanding Jason gets over the trauma of having died)

-honestly staying by Chill's side as he died was pretty cool and heroic on Bruce's part, totally agreed, that was badass of him to not let him die alone despite his trauma. That being said can we please stop tying morality to the concept of forgiveness? Implying there's a goodness of heart to forgiving/getting over your trauma is weird, it way too puch pressure on the victim, we should stop with the "good victim/bad victim" narrative, martyrdom culture is harmful. If forgiving Chill helped Bruce, cool for him, Jason is in no obligation to forgive Joker, and also Bruce forgiving Chill =/= staying by his side as he died, those are two separate things

-if we're comparing coping we have to compare resources, what does Jason's support system at that time compared to Bruce? Should we make a tally to see who has more friends especially close ones? We both know who will win but also that it's a completely stupid and pointless arrangement, how many apples and oranges must we compare before we conceptualize that it's not the same fruit?

-in terms of personal taste, I find placing moral judgement on characters is about the least interesting analysis angle I can imagine, like, congrats, you've established Angel McPerfect is a better person than Asshole McInteresting! Now multiply me by one and subtract zero.

-kinda hilarious to criticise Jason for not getting over his death and compare that to the coping of a man who dresses as a bat to cope with something that happened thirty years ago. Like if he's so over his trauma why is he wearing pointy ears

-also, obviously, the idea that characters should just "get over their trauma" is insanely dumb. Trauma is like a wound. It can scar, if treated properly, and then the scar will always be there. Imagine telling someone they should get cosmetic surgery because "we get it, you got stabbed, you don't have to shove it in my face every time I look at you." Or telling someone whose wound got infected "why can't you be more like this guy? Look, his stab wound is all healed nice and clean by now. It's like you're not even trying !"

Anyway I hope that answers your question and you have a good day anon, I agree with you that that take is weird, I truly don't understand the reasoning beside "i don't like jason". Idk maybe these people just need to...chill.

[im-just-daria]

In The Dark Part 2

The Jackal x Reader

Fandom: The Day of The Jackal

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You finally make it to Munich.

Warnings: Mentions of murder and dead bodies, threats, stalking, just the usual assassin stuff.

A/N: I know it took me some time. Enjoy the second part :) Feedback is most appreciated, as well as any mistakes you see <3

Tag: @spiderstyles04 tagged as requested <3

Your eyes shot open as the alarm on your nightstand rang loudly. With a heavy sigh, you tapped your phone to stop the ringing and rubbed your eyes as you stretched under the covers of your warm bedsheets. It took you five seconds to remember why on earth you set that alarm in the first place. Today is the first day of juggling full-time pub work and helping a criminal impersonate some German janitor to do whatever he needed. You certainly didn't want to know more than is necessary for two simple reasons- in case you ever get taken by police, the less you know, the better, and because you weren't sure how well you would cope with the fact that you possibly helped someone in murder.

Your feet touched the cold floor, and you walked to a chair by your desk with more clothes on it than in your wardrobe. You put on a sweater from the pile of clothes and walked to the bathroom. As you were sitting on the toilet, your mind started to replay last night's events. You were surprised at how calm you were; it was actually concerning. 'Wow, my moral compass is so off', you thought as you wiped yourself and stood up. While washing your hands, you suddenly remembered something from yesterday that had escaped your memory. You opened the drawer under the sink and saw the nail scissors still missing; the corners of your mouth moved slightly upwards. You made your way to the kitchen and found the piece of paper with the phone number the man gave you yesterday. You debated whether to text him or not ' I mean, the guy has a gun and knows all your personal details, but at the same time, I do have some questions.'

You bit your bottom lid as you finally decided to pick up your phone. You typed in the number and texted;

"Do I keep the receipts?" you asked, putting down your phone as you wanted to start your breakfast. You hadn't expected him to reply within five seconds. 'Does he not have a life?' you thought with a frown.

''Yes''

''Do I use only cash, or can I use my card?''

''Cash''

''Do you have any allergies? The prosthetic glue sometimes causes a rash:/''

'Fuck', You scolded yourself. You were one of these people who use emojis religiously, so your muscle memory just put it in the message. 'Fucking hell (Y/N), it is a random man who hired you to help him commit international crimes, and you threw in a frowning emoji'.

''No allergies, cash only, go to only bigger stores where it's relatively anonymous, try to blend in, lie if someone asks what it's for. Anything else?'

You felt the passive aggressiveness radiating from the message, but you just couldn't help yourself. There was something so satisfying about annoying this man.

''You didn't give me back my nail scissors.''

He didn't reply immediately, like with the rest of the messages, and honestly, you thought he would just ignore you. You put down your phone and turned on the kettle on your kitchen counter. You heard the notification sound of your phone. You almost sprinted to the phone.

''I will add 5 £ to the overall payment'' You smiled. 'Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it' You lost the battle with your self-restraint.

''But the good ones cost 10 £.''

''You remember I have a gun, right? Do not text or call this number unless it is important, or you will make it from Germany in a body bag. Now delete all the texts.''

'Fine', you thought to yourself as you put down your phone and got ready for your day.

Your shoulder started to hurt from all the supplies in your bag. 'Now I understand the need for backpacks'. Since you haven't seen his face, you weren't really sure what colours of foundations and powders to buy, so you got a few just in case. After all, your life pretty much depends on how well you execute this. As you passed through Vauxhall to get to Waterloo, you glanced at MI6 headquarters and wondered how much they didn't know. I mean, here you are on the pavement across the river carrying supplies necessary for international crime. 'Is it really that easy?' you thought to yourself.

The rest of the week passed by really quickly. If you weren't working, you were working on the prosthetic; if you weren't working on the prosthetic, you were trying to sleep, eat, get groceries or clean the house. Your back was killing you from being constantly hunched over your desk. 'I have absolutely no idea how single mothers exist.' you thought as you tried to stretch in your chair. The whole face prosthetic was done, as well as the wig; you were just finishing up the facial hair when you heard the knock on the door. You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't order anything. A wave of uneasiness washed over you. You grabbed a scalpel from the desk you used to cut through fake skin and hid it behind your back. You approached the door and looked through the peephole. A delivery man was standing on the other side holding a bouquet of flowers. Now you were nervous; your love life was non-existent, so there wasn't a single person who could send you those. You opened a door hesitantly; you half expected the man to pull out a knife or barge in through the apartment. Instead, he just smiled and asked,'' Miss (Y/L/N)?''

You stuttered ''Y-yes''.

"These are for you." He handed you a bouquet of flowers and an envelope. At first, you simply stared at him, still expecting him to pull out a weapon, but he didn't. You extended your arm and slowly grabbed the flowers and the envelope. You felt sorry for the delivery man. He looked so confused. You looked like grabbing those flowers was a life sentence, and your heavy breathing certainly didn't help.

''Um, have a nice day,'' he said hesitantly and left.

''You too!'' You said a bit too loudly as he was almost out of your sight.

You closed the door and locked it. Making your way to the kitchen, you set the flowers on the counter and opened the envelope.

IN Saturday 19th of April 19.25 RyanAir Stansted-Munich.

OUT Sunday 20th of April 22.45 RyanAir Munich-Stansted.

Premier Inn Munchen Messe Hotel Munchener Str.

Use your card; put everything necessary in the check-in bag. When you get to the hotel, send a text message. You will receive further instructions once you arrive. Don't do anything stupid, or these will be your funeral flowers.

You pulled out your phone and booked all flights and the hotel as the note instructed. The hotel itself was on the outskirts of Munich. You knew you would have to call in sick tomorrow to make this flight. Once all the bookings were confirmed, you ripped the note and flushed it down the toilet. While making your way to the desk, your eyes fell on the flowers you left on the counter. Your lips twitched upwards as you approached them. They were really beautiful. You filled a vase with water and smelled the bouquet before putting it in the glass. You moved them to the living room so they could get some sunlight. You were determined to keep them alive as long as possible. You let out a laugh as you realised that the first flowers you have ever received from a man were from a criminal who attached a note with a death threat. You made your way to the bedroom and finished the prosthetic for tomorrow. As you were packing and preparing, a shadow of a smile still danced on your lips.

The flight was as stressful as you thought it would be. You were sure you looked suspicious because every few seconds, you looked around, scouting the airport for security and police. You tried telling yourself that you had absolutely nothing illegal in the suitcase, which was true after all. Make-up artists travel daily with tons of stuff like yours and don't get stopped by border control. You finally reached the hotel, paid the taxi driver, and entered the Premier Inn. You approached the lady at reception, who smiled at you.

''Hi, I have a booking for (Y/N) (Y/L/N), 1 night'' You tried to calm your nerves and keep a relatively neutral face as you handed her your passport.

"Of course," she replied and started clicking on her computer. "Right, here is your key and a letter from your fiance."

You grabbed both items as well as your passport, to be honest; after the flowers, you expected him to pull some shit like this. 'What a psychopath, he really is enjoying this, isn't he? At least now I know he won't break into my room at night.'

''Thank you,'' you replied to the receptionist and made your way to the room. You only wanted to shower and eat, but you knew the envelope was a priority.

You left your bag on the floor, took off your jacket and left it on a chair. Leaning against the desk, you opened the letter.

16.00 Ludwig-Thomas-StraSe 27: The doors downstairs and upstairs will be open. Do not knock; just come in. Wear something with a hood, and make sure your hair isn't visible. Take everything with you; you will go straight to the airport.

Walk, do not use public transport. And try not to look suspicious; you already did a shit job at that at the airport.

''What the actual fuck?'' you actually said it out loud. Was he actually following you at the airport? You shook your head and exhaled deeply. ''This is a fucking joke''. You let out a dry laugh and decided to have a shower and sleep. A realisation hit you as you stood in a bathroom, about to undress. What if he had cameras in your room? A part of you- the logical part- wouldn't be surprised if he had cameras here and in your apartment. But the other part -the weird, unhinged, delusional part- tells you he isn't that type of guy. ''Jesus Christ (Y/N), you don't know that man,'' you scolded yourself and got undressed. It was a very brief and quick shower. Once you got into bed, you closed your eyes and tried to go to sleep. Fifteen minutes into your failed attempts at falling asleep, a phone rang; you immediately recognised the number, and your heart stopped. You accepted the call and said shakingly. ''Y-Yes?''

"Didn't you forget something?" You almost forgot how he sounded. It's been over a week, after all. His voice was calm and smooth, with a British accent dominating his pronunciation. You mentally checked everything you brought with you, nothing coming to your mi- ''Fuck I am so sorry, I forgot to text you when I got here,'' You said quickly.

''I need to know you are making your locations on time; I won't always have a way to track your phone.''

'Oh my God, ' you thought. So, this isn't a one-time thing.

"Um, yeah, that's fair. I have a question, though, and it is rather important," you said, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

''Make it quick; I don't have time.''

''That's what she said,'' you whispered timidly, immediately regretting the words as they left your mouth. 'That's it. He is gonna hang up now; great fucking job (Y/N).'

Instead, you heard a chuckle on the other end of the phone. You suddenly felt proud of yourself, and involuntarily, your mouth formed into a smile.

''What's the question (Y/N)'' He said in much lighter tone. You felt a bit more confident now, knowing that he actually found you funny.

''Do you have any cameras in my apartment or the hotel room?''

You could almost hear the confusion in his voice ''No.''

''Okay, that's good, yeah, okay,'' you exhaled, and a silence followed.

''Anything else?''

Once again, you lost the inner battle with your self-restraint and grinned as you tried to put in your most seductive voice.

"So," you said, taking a pause. "What are you wearing?" You honestly thought he had just hung up. After about ten seconds, as you were about to check the phone screen, he simply replied, "Good night (Y/N)."

Little did you know, a smile adorned his face as he hung up the phone. A smile that hasn't visited his face in years.

The next day, you checked out of the hotel at 11 in the morning and made your way to a cafe. You had 5 hours before you had to be at the location given to you. You tried to focus on a book you took with you, but after rereading the same page four times, you gave up. You ate your food and drank your coffee before going for a little walk. You really needed to calm down. Munich was much warmer than you thought, you decided to see the city centre rather than sit in one cafe for 5 hours. As it was getting closer to 4 pm, you started to make your way to the address. You followed Google Maps as you saw the right flat complex. The man didn't lie; the doors were open downstairs. You made your way up the stairs, looking for number 27. Your heart started racing as you stood in front of it. 'Just go in. You are wasting time.' You stood outside for the next two minutes before reaching the door handle. You opened the door and stepped into the hallway; you were immediately met with a familiar face you saw 10 days ago; however, this time... it wasn't in the dark.

You knew already he was tall; his face perfectly reflected his usual voice, emotionless, graceful, calculated and confident. Freckles were scattered across his clear skin, and his ginger hair was messy, but somehow, it fit him perfectly. His green eyes were focused on yours. He was leaning against a wall with his arms folded. You closed the door behind me, not sure what to say. He beat you to the greetings.

''Lingering outside someone's door for 3 minutes is rather suspicious, don't you think?'' His eyebrows raised as the sentence left his mouth.

You just stared at him, ''Yeah, um, yeah, it is, and you told me not to be suspicious.''

'Yes, I did'' He said seriously.

You tried your best to lighten the mood ''Soooo, do I get the house tour?''

''No, the bathroom is on the left. Go there and don't leave; set up everything you need.''

''What, is there like a body in here?'' You said jokingly and chuckled. You looked up at him to see his reaction. He just looked at you with a specific look that answered your question.

''Ohhh, okay''. You swallowed and made your way to the bathroom.

'Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic'.

The bathroom was small and didn't have much counter space. There was a chair and a stool. You opened your bag and set all prosthetics and the wig onto the sink counter; all make-up brushes, palettes, foundations, and powders were left on the chair. You turned around to grab a towel behind you when you were met with a familiar build. You gasped loudly, startled. How could he move so quietly?

"You can sit down if you want." He didn't reply; he simply took his place in a chair and looked at you expectingly.

It felt weird. Being cramped with a killer in a tiny bathroom, you wondered if the body lying somewhere in the house belonged to the man you would help him look like.

You began examining his face, your eyes tracing every curve of his face. His eyes never left yours; you guess he still doesn't trust you enough to be this close to you with his eyes closed.

"Your face has a rather unusual structure," your voice hitched as you realised how it sounded. "It's not an insult, just," you exhaled. ''Your eyes, sockets, and cheekbones are very hollow, but your lips are full. I will need to add some extra padding to make it look believable."Your hands were slightly shaking as you waited for his answer.

''Just do what you must. Be done by 8.30.''

You nodded.

His skin was unbelievably smooth, and his eyes still hadn't left yours, examining your every move. As you were working, you tried to explain everything you were doing. However, with the lack of his replies, you felt like you were just conversing with yourself instead.

After two hours of silence from his side, you opened your mouth but hesitated to say the sentence you wanted.

''Did you know that red hair and green eyes occur in only 0.14% of people on the planet?'' Once again, you expected silence, but he replied simply ''Yes''. Well, it's better than silence.

''How did you know?'' You asked, trying to hold the conversation.

''How did you?'' You sighed.

''I asked first.'' It was a childish answer, but a small smile played on your lips.

''My friend told me years ago,'' He said hesitantly.

''That's nice; I learned that in school during make-up classes in my first year,'' you replied calmly, suddenly feeling at ease.

''Did you like them?''

You were taken aback by his question. ''The classes?'' Still in disbelief, he showed interest.

He simply nodded.

''I did; I always found it relaxing; it's like painting or drawing for other people.''

You decided to take advantage of his sudden talkativeness.

''I probably need a name for you, a fake one. I really don't mind; I just can't refer to you in my mind as 'him'.

His lips twitched, and he said, '' And just how often do you refer to me in your mind?'' You stopped all your movement and averted your eyes from his wig hairline you were just fixing to look at into eyes.

You opened your mouth in shock and said lightly, chuckling, ''Did you just make a flirtatious joke?''

''Don't get used to it,'' He said as you added finishing touches to his appearance. His whole demeanour is changed. He seems more relaxed, and his eyes don't seem so controlling. He also didn't flinch every time you touched his face without warning.

''Let's go with Charles.''

You hummed ''Fine by me,''

''Right, all done.'' You said proudly as you stepped back, allowing him to stand up and examine your work in the mirror. You personally thought you had outdone yourself. Maybe the overhanging thought of death if you fuck up had something to do with it, or perhaps you are just that good.

''This is incredible,'' he said, not taking his eyes off his reflection.

Somehow, his praise meant more to you than any compliment you've ever heard from your teachers. 'Yeah, because whether you live or die depends on this,' you explained to yourself, not even allowing yourself to think of any other reason.

''You have a plane to catch; you should go,'' He said, finally averting his eyes from the mirror towards you.

''Yeah, you are right, I'm just gonna pack up. Um, here is a glue dissolver and a brush. Don't rip it, or your face will flare up; ginger people have a lower impact tolerance, so um yeah,'' You said, trying to hold eye contact, but halfway through the sentence, you lost confidence. You simply handed him the bottle and started packing your things. As you were about to grab the door handle, you turned towards him. He was leaning on the same spot on the wall as when you walked in, and you stood in the same place as before. Except this time, the man looked nothing like himself.

''I will transfer the money tomorrow,'' he said once again emotionless.

''Okay'' As you grabbed the handle, you smiled and turned back to him. ''I just want to let you know that I had so many urges to say ginger jokes today, but I didn't, and I think you should know that and appreciate it.''

He stood there like a statue, motionless. After a few seconds, he smiled and walked away.

''Just go home (Y/N).''

You high-fived yourself mentally. Annoying this man was fun, but seeing him smile is even better.

You left the apartment smiling, not worrying about looking suspicious.

[knickynoo]

At what point in time do you think the original timeline McFly family started being dysfunctional? I’m sure George and Lorraine were fully in love at first, and Lorraine even still in the 80s seems to look back fondly when recalling how they fell in love. But I do wonder when exactly it started to go downhill, when they started having kids? Just with age? Or maybe it was never really great to begin with before Marty got involved

This is a really interesting ask, and it's something that I've thought about a handful of times. The Twin Pines McFlys fascinate me.

As for my own headcanons about when the dysfunction started, I think it was always there. Dysfunction within families is complex, though, so it likely ebbed and flowed and morphed over the years. Some thoughts! (hehehe, analysis and theories incoming)

I 100% believe George and Lorraine were fully in love at first and are even still in love when we meet them in 1985. It's just that life has beaten them both down in various ways, and they've lost touch with each other and fallen into a pattern of being resigned to (and maybe even comfortable with) all the disconnect within their family. But there's no mistaking the fondness with which Lorraine begins her story of how she and George met and the way it shifts to such sadness within just a few seconds. Her question of, "It was the night of that terrible thunderstorm, remember, George?" is such a clear bid for connection with him. A hope that he'll smile and recall that night and join in on her story. That's what Lorraine wants! But George doesn't even acknowledge her (not on purpose, I'm sure; he's just so wrapped up in watching The Honeymooners), and you see Lorraine gradually deflate from there.

It's so sad because you can see the emotions shift so suddenly in her! That first gif still holds such affection as she recalls their first kiss. It's like she's a girl again, feeling that overwhelming sense of love and all the possibilities for their life together. But then it changes. She's brought back to reality and all the unhappiness, the disappointments, the realization that life isn't what she imagined for herself.

By the last gif, she's a woman who clearly feels trapped. Now stuck with this guy for the rest of her life. And what makes it so awful is that you can TELL Lorraine still loves him. She longs for that happiness they once had, but it takes two people putting in effort to make a marriage work. She can try to reach George all she wants, but if he can't be emotionally present, it isn't going to work.

Also, I'm sure that George loves Lorraine as well, but he's got a whole plethora of issues that just. Haven't been addressed. George has no self-worth. He's meek and lets people walk all over him and is so completely anxious about everything in life that he's mostly shut down. He's trapped too, with no way (that he can see) to change things. So he does what he can to survive, which consists of doing Biff's bidding and retreating to an inner world at the expense of shutting his family out.

I don't think things were always to this extreme, though. For a while I'm sure things were okay, maybe even good. They were young and in love, and while George was still George, I don't think life had defeated him yet. They got married, really established their little life together, and I can see them as both having hope. And even if there were moments that seemed shaky or hinted that things might be difficult down the road, it was easy to brush it aside. They were still finding their footing, and they were young and had their whole future together to make things better. In all honesty, Dave probably got to experience the "best" versions of his parents for the first several years of his life.

However, each year and every hardship (big and small) likely chipped away at the McFlys and brought about additional dysfunction. I don't know if Biff and George started working with each other right out of high school or if they came to work those jobs later on, but I'm sure that was a huge factor. It offered no escape from Biff for either George or Lorraine. Just a predictable cycle of George having to do whatever Biff told him, Biff invading their home whenever he pleased, and everyone having to watch George immediately tuck his tail between his legs.

As I said, I think things gradually kind of unraveled in their house. As the state of their family became more solidified, Lorraine likely began drinking more and withdrawing. I do think they still had their good days, though! Moments that brought them together and where they felt that happiness they once shared (I mean, they had three children together, and it's clear Dave, Linda, and Marty ARE loved and were raised well.) But the state of the McFly household is probably all Marty has known for the majority of his life. I can see situations arising where maybe Dave has told him, "They weren't always like this, you know."

Dysfunctional as they are, George and Lorraine really are trying. I think they can absolutely see the cracks and the flaws—perhaps even the potential damage being caused to their children—but they just have too much brokeness inside themselves to do better. So, they do what they can, which for George involves trying to protect his children's feelings by discouraging them from taking risks. He doesn't want them hurt or sad or disappointed, and his solution is to have them form shells around themselves. Better to save yourself from all the headaches life brings.

Lorraine does her best to protect and guide her kids by way of warning them away from the very things that brought her to where she is in life. We see this manifest in the form of criticism mostly when she's talking to Marty.

Lastly even with Lorraine seeming as downtrodden as she is, I can see her clinging to the possibility of change. Hoping and praying that eventually, George would say enough was enough and stand up for himself. He'd put his foot down, step up as a husband and father, and things would become what she always wanted. She was the one always telling herself, "Someday. Someday..." until the point we see her at during the dinner scene, where she knows that "someday" isn't going to ever happen. Things are just the way they are, and she has to deal with it.

This was a lot, but I have a lot of feelings about the McFly family and how they operated in their day to day life. Especially the implications of the McFly sibs (Marty in particular!) being raised in such an emotionally disjointed environment. Ugh, those gifs of Lorraine make me so sad. The whole thing is sad.

Thanks for the ask, though! I want to write another Twin Pines McFly fic now.

[starscr0ss]

im thinking about celestia and the abyss being literal opposites (chaos and order) and im thinking about childe and lumine being sort of embodiments of that, just not in the way we think. after the latest natlan quest its clear to us what the fatui intends and what they want- i think the tsaritsa more than anything loves humanity, which is why she directly opposes celestia who are known for bringing down different civilizations. childe, as Her weapon and Her blade is an extenction of that: he's a blade forged by the abyss, bathed in Her holyness, meant to strike down those who sin. lumine (talking solely about traveler lumine) is the literal sister of the prince of the abyss, she has clear ties to it and at this point in the story still is hesitant about fully opposing him (i love angst). her entire story revolves around chaose and disrupting celestia's (and the fatui's) order. isnt that fun

i think what childe longs for the most is control- control of himself, his life, his powers, his story, his fate. i think what lumine wants the most is freedom, which is just another phacet of chaos

anyways. you see it. the themes are theming

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[kuruna]

anyways 🫶🏾 I will talk about my own OC because god granted me the power to do so

Had a Big realization about Xanthos which is like... I already knew he struggles with guilt Big Time, but I didn't realize just to what extent that guilt informs his each and every action 💔 after an event in which AZ gets badly hurt, Xan starts taking on the "leader" role in their dynamic due to guilt and fear of getting AZ hurt again. When AZ is king, that same guilt affects their dynamic, but now that they're both adults Xan's overprotective nature feels belittling, and it is in a lot of ways. Xan starts doing a lot of the duties of king because he feels that AZ isn't handling them the way he should (which isn't Entirely untrue, it's a big job for someone with little experience in diplomacy to take on), but also because this dynamic has morphed in a way where Xanthos thinks his older brother is Incapable. At its core, the war was a very extreme way of Xan going "I don't think you should do this on your own. Why would you allow ME to handle it instead?!"

It becomes an ironic thing 💔 Xanthos' fear about hurting his brother again leads to him hurting AZ in the worst possible ways. And that sense of guilt only grows stronger 😔 Xan is incapable of asking for help, or being honest about himself and his needs. He's incapable of admitting when he is wrong and incapable of relinquishing control, and all of it comes from now incredibly Guilty he feels all the time and a need to constantly be making up for this guilt as well as his perceived failures as a person. Basically he's sooooooooo so so so sick 💔💔💔

[morocosmos]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 11 - Surrogate

Masterlist Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Pairings: Leofard Myste & Warrior of Light Rating: Teen & Up Additional Notes: Takes place at during HW patch 3.5. Major spoilers for the Shadow of Mhach alliance raid questline. Ao3 Link

Lady Raimille. The picture painted by Stacia's tale was everything an orphaned child could want from a parent. Everything except that she'd passed on too soon — but not before giving her foster son one last gift.

The noblewoman’s real portrait hung above them, enshrined in Leofard’s quarters. Presiding over his affairs and his family; watching over the man himself. Moro'a knew that paintings like this cost a considerable sum to commission, and that taking care of them required specific knowledge and attention; unexpected obligations for a sky pirate. 

But the painting gleamed, immaculately free of blemishes. “I had wondered as to the origin of his vessel's naming,” Cait Sith said softly, his voice touched with emotion. “‘Tis a most beautiful painting.”

Moro’a’s time in Ishgard had also taught him that portraits like this one were made to memorialise — a likeness captured in brushstrokes, preserved from time. Remember me as I was, in this moment. Remember what this person means to us. Situated where their loved ones could gaze upon them, and never forget.

I doubt I'll ever feel worthy to sit where he sat.

Throughout their adventures, Leofard had pretended as though the portrait wasn’t there, and it was all Moro’a had needed to know not to bring it up. He’d accepted it without judgement, without ever considering otherwise. What was he here for, if not to hide from ghosts and broken hearts; from memory?

But now that Stacia had told them what Leofard would never impart himself, the pieces that made up the leader of the Redbills had finally begun to click: why a man who prized freedom so highly would build his new home a stone's throw from the Holy See, and why the loss of his airship had made Leofard retreat into himself, like a creature seeking familiar refuge. 

It seems she kept him safe until the very end, Utata had said, and Moro’a’s heart had clenched so tight that he thought it might shatter.

It wasn’t any of his business. The voidsent had been stopped, and Cait Sith had found a new home. His time with the Redbills was coming to a close. It’d been an engaging distraction, which was precisely what Moro’a had needed; there were no stones left to overturn, no more accidental revelations to be had. He would go his separate way, into the unknown, and then…

Later, as he was stowing the few essentials he’d brought into the manacutter, Moro’a heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Leofard, who was already dressed in a clean set of clothes and red-tinted goggles. “I almost forgot,” the sky pirate said, as breezy as could be now as he held something out in his hand. A Redbill scarf.

“You didn’t have to,” Moro’a murmured, feeling a strange mixture of reluctance and guilt. 

“And I say otherwise, Warrior. I reckon you’ve done more than you’ll ever need to to have earned this.” His hand stretched closer, and Moro’a considered refusing. He was ready to quit this place, to move on. I’m not who you think I am, he wanted to say. 

Instead he found himself reaching out for the scarf, and tucking it in with the rest of his things.

If, after he'd said his farewells, his hand reached under the collar of his shirt to gently hold the necklace that rested against his chest, to remember, he was the only one who needed to know.

[pinksilvace]

people will really draw anything but what they're supposed to (I'm people)

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[heybinnie]

i still cant process this

[sunflowers-and-sweetviolets]

anyway - head over heels for that old man <3

[yangjeongin]

i swear i love lovestay so much but i will either cry or come close to tears Every time i hear it i have  problems

[boogiewoogieweeb]

#he's good at his job! #crozier likes him! crozier chose him! #and any enabling of crozier happens because he lives and works in one of the most strictly hierarchical systems to ever exist #where dissidence can be a hanging offence! #and he's so! fucking! angry! about it #also having to deal with a spirit bear on top of everything #that makes you question the very fabric of the assumptions you once had about the world #also his cabin door is stuck!! #we talk a lot about jopson finally snapping and beginning to bite and kick #i really think he should invite edward to the inevitable breakdown - @maedhrus

listen i don't think edward little was actually a bad first lieutenant. when we see him in the first episode he's calm and confident. he does not say much but he's amiable enough. crozier likes him, and i don't think crozier would like anyone he doesn't think capable in some way. generally he's dependable and knows what he's doing. however unfortunately for edward he has these qualities because he has a major case of eldest daughter syndrome, which means he both wants to please his mum (crozier) and has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his younger siblings (crew), so when they get stuck in the ice and crozier starts going (more) alcoholic, he enables his mum bc he doesn't want to disappoint her even if he doesn't agree with her, and he has to pick up the tasks and care for his siblings she's not doing, but he can't let his siblings know about their mum's situation because they'll get worried and restless. and like a true eldest daughter he has to bear the brunt of mummy's anger for being a disappointment but he also doesn't want to seek refuge with the man she divorced (fitzjames) because that feels like a betrayal. also while this is going on there is a giant bear who hunts his siblings for sport so they're dying left and right and also a changeling master manipulator who's making his siblings mad at their mum and who wants to fuck said mum before eating her like some sort of praying mantis. anyway i think i would start being miserable and anxious too.

[borderlinereminders]

It is okay and normal to be mad at people you love sometimes. It's normal for them to be mad at you sometimes. What I think really matters, is how people treat each other when they're mad.

My partner was mad at me yesterday. I was supposed to book his ferry last week but I forgot and when I went to yesterday, the reservations were sold out. (He has really busy work days and that's why I was booking it - before anyone says he could have just booked it himself. I have a lot more spare time than he does and had agreed to do it when he asked.)

He was genuinely mad at me. He expressed feeling frustrated, but he never once yelled at me. He never once insulted me. He never once threw a past mistake in my face because he was upset.

He told me that he still loved me when he was mad at me, but he took some time to calm down. And then he came back and told me that he loved me again. I gave him a sincere apology. And we came up with an alternate solution, and we moved on.

I made plans for how I can not get so distracted in the future - because I did mess up, and part of apologizing in my opinion is aiming to do better next time.

But the point is that while he was mad at me, he never treated me poorly. He was never cruel or mean. He understood mistakes happened, but he still needed a minute to sort through his feelings. And that was okay. He was allowed that. I was genuinely upset, and I felt terrible. But he was allowed the space to be mad, and I was comforted by knowing he still loved me even if I had messed up. I used my own coping methods to deal with my feelings.

It's okay to be mad, even angry. It's okay to need space. It's just important to be mindful of how we handle our feelings, and we need to know that we don't deserve someone to be mean to us, even if they're angry.

[poobit]

i have many thoughts on how Mouthwashing handles the themes of abuse and the symbolism around it especially as a survivor ... im not gnna hold back so -

first of all i think since its clear the point Jimmy is dismissive of Anya´s personhood and his perception is warped towards what he does as a Captain rather than what he does as a man, it makes sense she doesnt get her own labyrinth or such , i cant argue around that because its realistic he´s so male focused he cant even bother to truly think about what he did to her, i would love it if Wrong Organ decides to do a side story vignette of her own perspective and view in the future if the game proves its successful enough for side content like that.

Assault is something usually not handled with subtlety in games, i think what struck me the most was how real the dialogue of her coping and suicidal ideations and how Curly responded to it felt , the dancing around the subject, the deflection, the "whats next" of the ever impending consequence of pregnancy, how Anya pleads for help from the person she trusts but nonetheless a man unequipped and too emotionally attached to the abuser to be able to confront him, its so real, Curly´s lack of initiative is something Jimmy fully takes advantage of the moment things dont go his way, he turns everyone against him even as a helpless body on a bed because he needed to be in control of the situation, thats what abusers do.

A more sensationalistic game would have easily played Anya´s helplessness and assault for shock for sure, because it would be easy, she is the archetypical victim trope, shes modeled in Wendy Torrance likeness from The Shining, shes meek and unsure of herself and Jimmy shoots her down from the very beginning to make her feel unqualified and cornered, but the furthest the games goes is making Jimmy terror towards the pregnancy and the baby as a boogeyman that crawls and tramples over him. No sights of bleeding legs or her crying or screaming and much less present objectification of her body (which is something that i always think the horror genre has such a struggle not grabbing onto, sexuality is mostly always played up in assault stories especially if the victim is an adult woman), she remains a fully clothed figure and maintains the agency to her own demise, away from Jimmy and beside Curly, which is tragic and obviously still a symptom of horror´s proclivity to back female characters into corners of self inflicted punishment, but the alternative would have been that sooner or later, Jimmy would have killed her.

Its clear to me that the game used Curly´s state as a way to put a barrier between Jimmy and Anya, we dont objectify Anya, but we objectify Curly, Anya doesnt just feel pained and unable to handle Curly´s medication because shes in a sensitive state, her comments about his noises and such draws a line between her trauma and her perception of things as Her fault, she cant handle hearing his struggles and cries trying to swallow a pill because it reminds her of her own helplessness, so she leaves the task to Jimmy, someone who has no qualms in forcing someone down, the emphasis of every treatment as a repetitive process and the sound design is all very poignant and for me, a great way to handle assault as a metaphor, Curly did not consent to being in this position, it is very much still Jimmy´s fault and the fact that Jimmy is basically keeping him alive against his will even to the last moment of the game says everything, Jimmy doesnt love Curly the same way he doesnt love Anya.

The horses are not lost on me, i think horses as animals are often seen as "viril" symbols, strong and often volatile, they can be often hard to mount but when one does the rider and animal are seen as this one all powerful entity, like centaurs, which also carry symbolism of assaulters mind you, so while maybe not intentional on the dev´s part i think it still points to the Horse as a symbol still important in the game, the only spoken audio lines of dialog come from the Pony Express mascot Polle itself, and they are the first to actually confront Jimmy´s self centered line of thought and over-focusing on Curly, if the Tulpar is akin to a beast of a burden then Jimmy beat the dead horse way long ago.

All in this to say that Mouthwashing was a really good experience and i really hope the dev team is interested on expanding a bit more on it because i trust their vision.