#this is the most political i get but i care much

[reasonsforhope]

Climate change in 2025: So, what now?

Some real talk for the new year, about where we now stand, and what the next years are going to look like.

(Still ends on a “be hopeful!! or else” kind of note, but definitely gets into some heavy truths about the meaning of recent events.)

--

Obviously, between Trump's reelection at the Los Angeles fires, things are feeling a lot more precarious than they did just a few months ago. I know a lot of people are incredibly stressed. I know I'm certainly stressed.

But this isn't the end. This isn't the beginning of the end, either. We're not doomed.

Don't despair.

Yes, things are about to get harder. Yes, the effects of climate change are now becoming truly apparent.

But here's what you need to hold on to:

We have already cut expected warming in half.

More about that including sources here: (x) I'm not going to go into it again in detail, read the source for that. But it's true. In 2000, when I was a kid, they were predicting 4, 5, 6 degrees of warming, plus a runaway greenhouse effect that would boil the planet.

Now, scientists expect that global temperatures will likely land between 2 and 3 degrees.

Which is incredibly shitty, yes. But it's survivable.

And I have for a lot of reasons (check these masterposts on this) to believe with the confidence of knowing that we're going to get expected warming down even further.

And that's something to celebrate.

I’m not saying that the effects of warming aren’t already bad, or won’t get worse. I’m from California, I currently live in LA. My state’s been on fire for half my life. Natural disasters starting amping up early here (and we’re certainly in the middle of another historic number now). And yeah, it's fucking stressful right now.

But like I said, my state’s been breaking horrible disaster records constantly for the past ten years. I've done this before. And you know what? Natural disasters have been getting more and more survivable for years, largely thanks to faster warnings and better mass communication (x).

Does it suck how many natural disasters there are now? Yeah.

Does it suck how many more still there will be? Yeah.

Do we need to keep working our asses off to beat climate change? Yeah.

Are we going to need to organize and mobilize (both politically and especially community-wise) like never before to see as many people through these times as best as possible? Yeah.

But that doesn't mean we should despair. It absolutely does not mean that we've already lost.

An unknown number of the most optimistic futures were foreclosed when Trump won the US election. That’s painful but a reality.

But for twenty-ish of the past twenty-five years, the science said we weren’t going to survive climate change at all.

For most of my life, we were worried that we had set Earth on a course to become like fucking Venus (which is, on average, well over 800 degrees Farenheit). Even if it didn’t get that bad, we were so worried that global warming might wipe out all life on earth - except maybe the cockroaches.

(Literally, when I was a younger the kids at my church put on a play about that. It was like an adaptation of A Christmas Carol where the future only had talking cockroaches. I grew up so worried about this. (Not the cockroaches thing specifically. Mostly the general concept. Only a little about the cockroaches. Also yes my church was very granola why do you ask.))

But starting a few years ago, studies have shown that there wasn’t going to be a runaway greenhouse effect that could turn us into Venus; that earth is warming, yes, but we don’t seem to be in danger of that.

Between that and the fact that the adoption of renewables globally is too fast to be stopped, and we do have the technology and environmental science knowledge to eventually re-lower global temperatures by getting to net negative carbon emissions (x), and most countries and at least 73% of people in all countries for which there is data (x) actually care very much about the climate, yeah, we have closed the door on the lava planet future.

And yeah, I do think that’s worth celebrating.

That’s a massive fucking victory.

There's still more work to do, and I have every confidence that we're going to do it. I also think that, given the loss of the US election, there’s a really, really strong chance the developing world will be what saves us, and we’ll just be lucky to be along for the ride.

Most people have no idea of the kinds of amazing stories and statistics coming out of the developing world and Indigenous communities. The world is changing for the better on the environment, even as disasters (and the US) are getting worse. Solar power is going to revolutionize the fucking world, because it’s going to grant humanity universal access to electricity, and that’s going to revolutionize the world, especially the developing world (aka the global majority). And most people have no idea at all, much less how much it’s going to change.

So, yeah, natural disasters are going to keep getting worse.

But there’s a long, long long fucking way between “natural disasters are going to keep getting worse” and “the extinction of all of humanity and/or the vast majority of life on earth”

So, in the face of Trump, in the face of everything, I still choose to hope. I still choose to celebrate this as a true and profound accomplishment.

Because for over twenty years, I was afraid I’d never get to.

That difference is absolutely worth celebrating.

[ellaofoakhill]

I do think there is some merit in the idea of avoiding unnecessary or gratuitous character death, though. Depending on the genre you're working with and, especially, the tone you're intending to convey in your story, having a character die may be a bad route to take. Kill no one in a WW2 drama about the horrors of war and, unless you're doing something unusual with the genre conventions, your narrative's going to be pretty toothless. Kill nine characters out of ten that walk on screen, and you risk all those deaths blending into each other, and your audience disconnecting from your narrative, bc why should they care if chances are the character(s) they're most invested in will likely die anyway? I know some genres, like horror, are usually Like That anyway, but that is the nature of that type of story, and the good ones are deliberately writing with that tone in mind.

Genre conventions aside, there are other significant drawbacks to killing a character. For starters, they can contribute nothing else to the story going forward. The funny if cynical mentor who was disillusioned with the apathetic nature of the ruling class was secretly a member of the royal family, and could've served as the perfect agent to add legitimacy to the rebellion and bring support to its cause, while also highlighting the themes you've incorporated into your work of the importance of self-determination, trying to find a way forward without resorting to violence, and that all life should be treated with dignity and kindness? Too bad, you killed him off in that one skuffle outside the port city at the end of act one.

My other point is, even if the character in question is a tertiary character, there should be a reason for their death, and that reason needs to be weighted in proportion to that character's significance to the narrative. Logically, the bodyguard we've seen in the background might very well take a lethal bullet or a sword-stroke for her charge, bc that is her job, and a very real risk her job entails. Tonally, this might be a political drama, with intrigue and lethal backstabbing and assassination attempts left, right, and centre, where it would be weird if some bodyguard somewhere along the line didn't die, but it'd be most impactful for the one we've shared a viewpoint with to be the one who dies. Thematically, her death might also underscore the exploitation of people with rich inner lives of their own being crushed beneath the weight of classist ideology and the apathy of the rich and powerful. If she is a major character, her death and its aftereffects should be given suitable page space throughout the rest of your story. If she' was a tertiary character, we might not even get her name, let alone her perspective, and her death might be one among tens, hundreds, or thousands.

And it can be even less than this. The footman will literally be the guy to die bc he's the guy who answers the door the assassin's waiting on the other side of, and it'd make very little sense for the lord of the manor to get the door if the footman's also in the room during protag's plot-revealing conversation with his lordship. We might know nothing else about the footman, no one might ever mention him again, and he might never have touched on the plot prior--we might not even know his name--but it makes no sense for anyone else to take the action leading to that death, and even less sense for an assassin to spare his life. So the footman has to die. But it makes sense for him to die, given the circumstances.

Tl;dr: Character death is a tool for a storyteller to use to further the aims of a story, in terms of plot, character arcs, and theming. Use it too little and a story might--depending on genre and tone--lack in tension; use it too much and your story might not only lack tension, but actively damage its own narrative by removing characters who might have enhanced its plot, character arcs, and theming.

The salient point is: Make character deaths make sense, and in the case of major characters especially, make them matter.

im starting to think you guys dont like it when stories make you feel things

[red-phantom-0]

Neglected Reader x Yandere Platonic Batfam pt 2

continuation of this au -> 🍁 , 🍁🍁🍁

- well anyways, so the reader is stuck in this expensive limbo and they're like " uhhhhh so about the fact you've been avoiding paying your taxes for the past five years -" like reader is just trying to be professional .

- Bruce ignores their comment and just gives reader a cheshire smile and is like " Don't worry about that hun right now we just want to spend time with you " like he's just trying to reassure reader and they're just there like ' WHERE IS THE NEAREST TRUSTED ADULT THIS GRANDPA IS WEIRD ???'

- reader is just awkwardly sitting there like 🧍‍♀️ meanwhile damians just staring at them , enamored . So reader just awkwardly goes on their phone and text their secretary to track their location and pick them up because they are creeped tf out.

- Bruce is trying to be smooth by making dad jokes like " simba was moving too slow so I told him to mufasa "and readers just awkwardly laughing because she doesn't want the old man to feel bad .

- it gets worse when he tries using modern slang like " Hey ( reader's name ) you're so sigma today " and literally everyone in the limbo cringes and damian tells his dad to shut up and to stop embrassing them.

- anyways y'all reach the Wayne Mansion and you try to get out of the limbo but damian literally holds onto your hand and is like " allow me the most handsome , incredible , reliable , intelligent , best looking wayne to escort you out " and readers like okay whatever because he's just a little kid what's he gonna do ???

- so yall enter in and reader is escorted to a fancy living room , so reader sits dowm and whips out their laptop - insistent on being professional and wanting to get this over with so they could go home and take a much needed nap .

- " Okay Mr.Wayne ? It's says here you owe $100, billion to the IRS -" reader starts but then Dick and Jason enters in with big smiles . " Hey sis /bro !!" They greeted them but reader looks at them confused like who the hell are these randoms .

- this makes them both sad and sulk that their adorable little sibling wasn't as joyous to see them as they were to them. In comes tim with Alfred, and the reader perks up at Alfred. " Hey Alfred how are you ? didn't know you started to work for a new family !" Reader greets him.

- everyone just sits there in shock like does reader seriously forget about them - like they know they fucked up big time by ignoring /neglecting them but like they didn't recognize their own family??

- Alfred just politely smiles at reader and is like " Mr./Mrs. (Reader's Name ) I am still working for the same family, your adopted family in fact " he clarified. Reader just stares at him in confusion because like they don't ever recall being adopted ?? Like they've been in foster care they're whole life??.

- reader is just awkwardly like " hahaha hahaha nice joke man " and dick literally dramatically falls to floor and starts sobbing about how reader doesn't love them anymore .

- reader is just like ' wtf ' because like dramatic much and also they thought Alfred was their foster parent and they were just living in a big apartment complex w another family they didn't know they were supposed to be adopted siblings .

- tim literally grabs dick by his shirt collar and picks him up . " It's very nice to meet you :> " tim greets reader. Reader responds with a poker face , " uhhh we lived in the same place for 13 years mate it's a bit late to an introduction, yeah ?" reader says with a deadpan tone.

- everyone just looks at each other awkwardly and reader gets a notification from their secretary that they were outside waiting on them . Reader sighs and gets up from the couch and shoves their laptop into their travel bag . " Alright was nice knowing yall but I gotta dip " reader says and begins to walk right out .

- everyone immediately gets up to chase after them , Damian literally clinging onto their leg, and Jason and Bruce was trying to persuade them into staying saying ' its too late to go outside ' , " it's too dangerous ' . Reader just stops and looks at them both like " yeah grandpa it's 4 pm we know it's your bed time " and walks out the mansion.

- reader walks out , boss bitch style into their own expensive sports car not before waving at them and saying " See you later in court when you get arrested for tax evasion Bruce " and with that they drive off.

- the batfam just stands there in shambles because they failed in kidnapping and convincing reader to stay with them.

[delulusionwl]

♡ I See You

Pairing ── Neteyam x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader Word ── 3k Synopsis ── In which Neteyam gets jealous about the reader having a lot of suitors, as he wants her for himself. Warnings ── A jealous!Neteyam, a little bit of angry!Neteyam, Neteyam wanting to confess to Y/N but having an internal block, Possessive!Neteyam? Yandere!Neteyam?! o.O (I wasn't expecting this as I wrote it, fr) Fluffy moments ahead! Let me know if I should warn something :) A/n ── This is my first fic/imagine of Neteyam (hearts in my eyes). I saw the film a long time ago, but I never wrote an imagine for this lovely boy. But now, here I am! Let me know if you liked it <3 Images are not mine, so credit goes to the respective owners. English is not my first language!

Neteyam was irritated. Anyone who looked at him could tell he was practically steaming, his narrowed eyes glued to the ground, his firm steps carrying him somewhere far away from the clan before he did something he might regret—or something that would earn him a stern lecture (and punishment) from Jake later on.

Once again, the eldest Sully had seen Y/n being politely courted by one of the other boys in the clan. He chuckled bitterly to himself, almost scoffing. Of course, Y/n was being courted by every young Omaticaya in the hopes of making her their mate.

If this had been a few years ago, back when Neteyam wasn’t even aware of Y/n’s existence—too busy with training and missions assigned by his father—he wouldn’t have cared about her constantly being approached. But from the moment he truly noticed her, something inside him had shifted. And that something drove him to the brink of madness every time another boy approached her.

Of course, he couldn’t expect that not to happen. Y/n was, by far, the most beautiful young woman in the clan. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t only her perfectly amber eyes, designed so flawlessly by Eywa, or her long, dark hair that seemed to reflect all of Pandora’s natural light, or even her radiant smile that adorned her small, round face so perfectly. No, it was more than just her looks, though the entire clan—especially the young Omaticaya men—had to notice those things about her, too.

Still, Neteyam was utterly jealous. And furious. He couldn’t just hide Y/n away from everyone, keep her somewhere safe where only he could see her, appreciate her, talk to her. Maybe even touch her—if he didn’t combust from the thought alone.

Every time he interacted with Y/n, Neteyam’s heart would pound harder and faster, his face would flush, and his palms would sweat. When he first started feeling this way, the Omaticaya thought he was ill and grew concerned, which drew Jake’s attention. Eventually, Neteyam couldn’t keep it to himself and told his father what was bothering him.

Jake Sully had to fight back a laugh when his eldest said he was in love—though not in those exact words. Still, Jake kept a serious face to maintain his authority. Jake liked Y/n; she was a good girl. He had practically watched her grow up, just as he’d watched Neteyam grow up. But he didn’t like how much she was distracting his son. As a final piece of advice, the patriarch told his son to focus harder on his training until he felt ready to confess his feelings.

And so, until that day came, Neteyam settled for forming a friendship with the young woman. He poured himself into his training, trying harder every day to push those feelings away.

Neytiri, on the other hand, had noticed what was happening without needing a word from Neteyam. She saw how he acted whenever Y/n was nearby during any clan gathering. She saw his reactions as he struggled to hide his emotions, forget them, and behave naturally around the girl. Neytiri liked Y/n, too. She thought the young woman was beautiful, talented, and caring. If it was Eywa’s will, she would gladly welcome Y/n as a daughter when Neteyam finally woke up and claimed her as his mate.

But Neytiri thought that day might take a while—and she hoped it wouldn’t be too late by the time Neteyam finally confessed.

“Neteyam?” Y/n’s sweet, melodic voice called from behind him, breaking through his thoughts. He kept walking, his long, purposeful strides carrying him anywhere far from the girl who occupied his mind—and who was now standing right behind him.

Neteyam didn’t stop walking, but his ears, along with the stiffness in his tail and shoulders, betrayed that he had heard Y/n and was fully aware of her presence.

Y/n was confused but decided to follow him in silence. She trailed after the boy through paths filled with lush vegetation and small animals, eventually arriving at a breathtaking view of Pandora from the heights of one of the great trees. The girl smiled at the sight but quickly turned her attention to Neteyam, noticing how he stood quietly, avoiding her gaze, seemingly trying to calm himself.

“Did something happen?” Y/n asked softly, taking a careful step closer but keeping some distance between them.

Neteyam swallowed down the words that were forming like a lump in his throat—words like: You shouldn’t be accepting courtships when I’m around. But he couldn’t hold back the frustrated sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing,” he replied simply and calmly. He would never burden her with his confusion or irritation. After all, it wasn’t her fault she was so beautiful and skilled.

“Nete, it doesn’t seem like nothing,” Y/n said with a small laugh. The moment the nickname left her lips, Neteyam’s heart jumped wildly in his chest.

Still, he remained silent, his face beginning to flush as he stood there, choosing to focus on the view of Pandora. The sun was already starting to set, making way for the night.

“Well... I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have meddled…” Y/n said softly after receiving no response, her tone a little embarrassed. She had known Neteyam for years and had never wanted to be a burden to him—quite the opposite.

The Omaticaya girl had always had her eyes on the eldest Sully, the first son of Toruk Mak'to, even before they had built their friendship. Of course, her feelings weren’t tied to his status as the son of a leader but rather to Neteyam’s gentle yet strong demeanor.

His sharp, observant eyes. His posture—one that had been largely shaped by Jake Sully’s expectations, yet which Neteyam carried with a natural grace. His careful, steady way of speaking, free of judgment. And, most of all, the way he would laugh wholeheartedly whenever he had to save Lo’ak from his own troubles.

"I... I didn’t mean to bother you, Neteyam. Sorry," Y/n said, clasping her hands together. Her ears lowered softly, and her tail stopped swaying slowly from side to side.

Before she could leave, though, the Omaticaya stopped her.

"No," Neteyam said quickly, finally meeting her eyes. He straightened himself, feeling the warmth on his face intensify, spreading to his ears, neck, and soon, he was sure, his chest. Taking an almost imperceptible deep breath, he added, "You're not a bother. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to." His voice was soft, and he moved closer to the edge of the tree, sitting down and letting his long legs dangle in the air. The last thing he wanted was for Y/n to think she was a nuisance.

The girl smiled slightly at his words, a bit of her earlier energy returning. Being near Neteyam was gratifying, and she loved it. She loved talking to him, feeling close to him in any way. With gentle steps, she moved to sit beside him, admiring the view.

"This is beautiful," Y/n said, her gaze fixed on the scenery—the setting sun casting its warm hues over Pandora.

Neteyam turned his eyes to her again, mesmerized by the golden light illuminating her face, enhancing her already stunning features.

"It really is," Neteyam replied calmly, though his gaze wasn’t on the scenery but on Y/n.

As soon as she looked at him, he quickly averted his eyes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Is Jake being hard on you with training, Nete?" Y/n tried to start a conversation. "Is that why you were so upset?"

"A little..." Neteyam replied, avoiding her gaze. He wasn’t telling the full truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. Jake always seemed to expect more and more from him. "I’m just a bit tired, that’s all."

"No days off, huh?" Y/n chuckled softly through her nose. "Jake just wants you to be perfect, Nete. You’re the leader’s son, Toruk Mak’to’s son. There are a lot of expectations for you to meet."

"And that doesn’t help me at all," the boy replied, eliciting laughter from the Omaticaya beside him. Neteyam allowed himself a small smile as he listened to her laugh, watching her face light up.

"The hunting ritual is coming up..." the girl pointed out, softly swinging her legs where they hung over the edge. "Maybe Jake will let you rest after that."

"I’m not so sure about that."

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/n turned her gaze back to the breathtaking scenery, but Neteyam’s eyes stayed fixed on her, admiring her quietly. He loved moments like this—talking to Y/n, sitting in silence with Y/n. Everything about it felt natural. Like it was meant to be.

"You... you’ll have to make a big choice," Y/n began softly, her voice tinged with hesitation. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

Neteyam didn’t entirely understand her words but chose to remain quiet. Deep down, he knew he could listen to Y/n talk for hours—even if, perhaps, he didn’t fully grasp everything she said.

"Have you already chosen?" Y/n asked timidly, her eyes finally meeting his. Neteyam hadn’t taken his gaze off her.

"Chosen?" Neteyam echoed, a little confused, snapping out of the dreamy state her presence always seemed to put him in.

"I mean... your mate, of course," Y/n clarified, her voice quieter now, tinged with embarrassment.

The truth was, Y/n was scared of his answer. If Neteyam said yes, if he already had someone in mind to share his life with, it would crush any hope she had. But even so, she needed to know.

"Mate?" Neteyam repeated, slightly stunned. Her gaze bore into him, making him straighten his posture. He swallowed hard under her careful observation of his sharp, strong features. "No... I-I haven’t," he stammered, finally looking away. His ears twitched anxiously.

The truth was that Neteyam’s heart had already answered the question for him—loudly and undeniably. The moment Y/n mentioned "mate," his thoughts returned to the hunting ritual and the decision he would have to make afterward. And his mind landed firmly on Y/n.

Because it was her. It had always been her. Y/n was the one he wanted as his mate, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, to share every moment with.

Neteyam grew nervous as he imagined Y/n waiting for him in their shared home, arms open, ready to embrace him, kiss him, and care for him just as he would care for her. And he would do it well—he was certain of that.

A small but happy smile flickered across Y/n’s lips upon hearing Neteyam’s response that he hadn’t chosen a mate yet.

“Have you… noticed any, um, approaches?” Y/n asked softly, her voice almost a purr, knowing this was her chance and determined not to let it slip away. Not when Neteyam stirred her heart in ways no one else could. Not when she longed to hear his voice or feel close to him.

Of course, just like Y/n, Neteyam was a target of attention. The difference, however, was that Omaticaya girls weren’t as aggressive in their advances toward him. Getting close to him without at least being friends with his siblings was no easy task. And even then, finding a moment to be near him during his rare free time was nearly impossible. Yet Y/n managed it every time.

If anyone hoped to be courted by Neteyam, they had to make their feelings and intentions clear due to his limited availability and the fact that he wasn’t exactly the most expressive Na’vi. Y/n had tried to make her interest obvious around him, but the boy didn’t seem to notice.

Eywa knows how many courting gifts Y/n had carefully declined, all the while hoping to receive one from a particular Na’vi—the eldest Sully. With the hunting ritual so close, perhaps it was finally time for her to be a bit more forward in showing her interest, though still delicately. She didn’t want Neteyam to think poorly of her—not that he could, even if he tried.

“No, I haven’t noticed,” Neteyam replied truthfully to her question. The fact was, he rarely paid attention to anything outside of his parents’ demands, Lo’ak’s troubles, his siblings’ safety, and, of course, every move Y/n made.

“Well… plenty of girls would love to be courted by you,” Y/n said sweetly, letting out a soft laugh as she leaned ever so slightly toward him, her tail moving lightly along the ground. Neteyam’s ears twitched at her words, his gaze drawn to her once more. His own tail began to shift, unconsciously seeking hers.

But then, the scene from earlier crept into his mind—a boy standing close to Y/n, talking to her, laughing as if there were no tomorrow, clearly thrilled to be near her. The memory made Neteyam’s brows knit slightly together, and he found himself looking away from her.

“Yeah. From what I’ve noticed, many are courting you,” Neteyam said, trying to manage the irritation bubbling up inside him. He’d almost forgotten it, but now it had resurfaced. A new thought struck him, making him feel both nervous and uneasy. “You… have you already chosen a mate?” he asked carefully, bringing his eyes back to her.

“No,” she answered simply.

“No? Why not? You…” He cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly. “You’re an incredible girl. I’ve seen what you do for everyone in the clan. You tend to the injured, help prepare for rituals, assist mothers with their children… you’ve even helped my mother.” Neteyam’s voice grew a little shaky, his ears flicking nervously, his tail moving restlessly behind him. He vividly remembered the day Lo’ak got himself into serious trouble, forcing him, Neytiri, and Jake to go and drag his brother back. In their absence, Y/n had kept Kiri and Tuk company, distracting them with her kindness and warmth.

Y/n smiled, realizing that Neteyam had noticed something about her. The boy steadied himself before speaking again.

“Why haven’t you chosen anyone?” Neteyam asked simply, his voice low, though his eyes stayed fixed on the girl beside him.

“I’m waiting…” Y/n began in the same tone, looking deeply at him. “…for someone to make me an offer.”

Neteyam averted his gaze, assuming Y/n was talking about a specific Omaticaya in the clan. His thoughts spiraled, imagining anyone but himself in her mind—something Y/n was trying to make obvious with her intent gaze and the subtle movements of her tail inching closer to his.

“Well…” Neteyam said, trying to swallow the frustration brewing inside him over whichever lucky Na’vi had managed to catch Y/n’s eyes and heart. Maybe he’d challenge him to a duel if he found out. “It shouldn’t take long,” he said simply, still not looking at her, his earlier sour mood returning.

“It could happen now,” Y/n suggested, tilting her head slightly, attempting to catch Neteyam’s gaze.

“Now?” Neteyam asked, looking around and confirming they were still alone. There wasn’t another Omaticaya in sight that he could aim his fists at.

“Yes, now,” Y/n replied, his attention now fully on her. She fluttered her eyelashes gracefully, hoping he would understand her meaning.

“How ‘now’? It’s just us here,” he muttered, confused, though his heart skipped a beat as he caught her beautiful lashes in motion, momentarily forgetting his impulse to pummel some imaginary rival.

Y/n sighed, realizing she needed to be more direct if she wanted him to understand what she meant.

“Nete…” She swallowed hard, steeling herself for what felt like an immense challenge. She placed her hand gently over his, watching his eyes slowly widen as his ears perked up in surprise. “…I see you,” Y/n confessed intensely, her breath quickening as her heart raced uncontrollably.

Neteyam, on the other hand, was frozen in place. His wide eyes and dilated pupils were locked on the girl in front of him, his body entirely still as he processed her words.

“It’s true that I was waiting for something from you,” the girl began, embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. “But... you don’t have to feel pressured by me. I know you’ll have other great options for a mate.” She let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

The Omaticaya boy snapped out of his stupor, blinking several times in quick succession, his pupils dilating greatly, his heart racing faster than ever before. As soon as Y/n pulled her hand from his, Neteyam quickly but gently grasped it, not wanting to startle her.

“Y/n,” the boy called softly, still surprised by her words. She wanted to be courted by him.

Even though Neteyam was consumed with happiness, staring at her intensely, the words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to say “I see you” like he had imagined so many times, but with his heart pounding and his shock overwhelming him, he could only open his lips several times, struggling to find the right words.

Y/n looked at him shyly, waiting for him to say something, while the boy still held her hand gently, preventing her from going anywhere. He traced her soft skin with his thumb, his gaze still locked on her, hoping she would understand him without words, because he certainly would stutter if he started to confess.

The girl looked down at their hands joined softly, gripping Neteyam’s hand firmly, but soon she lifted her gaze back to him, watching him swallow hard.

“Do you feel the same?” Y/n asked quietly, leaning in slightly, and the only thing Neteyam could do was nod—quickly, almost too fast, which made her smile even wider.

Even with his heart practically on fire, the boy swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the young woman beside him.

“Y/n, I see you,” Neteyam said as if making a promise, though it was whispered, it was intense. It was clear that his chest was rising and falling quickly, with a brief flush of purple creeping up his face, his ears, slowly descending to his neck.

Y/n smiled wider, the same color beginning to tint her cheeks. With her beautiful smile, Neteyam returned a smaller one, still immersed in emotions. His skin was showing his anxiety and mild embarrassment, and his palm was starting to grow warmer than usual.

The boy pulled back slightly from the girl, still looking at her, her eyes locked on him with curiosity. Neteyam began to undo one of his bracelets, tightly fastened to his forearm, and once the accessory was removed, he looked at Y/n with expectation.

The girl let out a happy sound, lifting her left forearm to Neteyam, who, with slightly trembling fingers, began to fasten the bracelet onto her. Now, anyone who saw Y/n wearing the accessory would immediately know that she was promised to Neteyam, as the Omaticaya wore the matching pair on his right forearm.

"In the hunting ritual..." Neteyam began softly as he adjusted the bracelet on Y/n. "I will bring the largest animal I find for the clan. And after that, I will come to you and ask if you would choose me as your mate in front of everyone." He continued, his voice still quiet, a little embarrassed but happy, watching the bracelet settle perfectly on the girl. "This is my first courting gift. But please, don't worry, I will give you more gifts so you can adorn yourself with them until the ritual. And also, after it." The boy smiled at her, making the girl laugh too, filled with happiness.

"And I will make your adornments," Y/n replied, thinking of the accessories she had already made for Neteyam, but never had the courage to gift him. However, from now on, she saw no problem in doing so.

The Omaticaya boy smiled at her, gently bringing their foreheads together, and she responded without hesitation, closing her eyes in delight and happiness. Neteyam turned his gaze back to the landscape in front of them, feeling Y/n settle close to his body, resting her head between his neck and shoulder. He accepted her presence gladly, holding her close as they both silently admired the beautiful, dusk-lit landscape of Pandora, content in their mutual affection.

With Neteyam holding the girl firmly and gently beside him, his tail swayed slightly, finding hers, and they wasted no time in intertwining them, causing both to share small, happy laughs. And behind the couple, Atokirinas—the seeds of the Tree of Life—floated softly, undisturbed, as the young pair embraced in front of Pandora's giant moon.

[shalomniscient]

convenience, part 1 || tsukishiro yanagi x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Your heat, rather inconveniently, comes a whole two days early in the middle of your shift at your job. Your boss drops you off at a heat clinic, and you manage to get paired with who you think might just be the most perfect alpha in all of New Eridu.

cw. omegaverse, alpha yanagi, omega reader, all the usual omv stuff like knotting & breeding

notes. wrote this in a haze of horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi. yes there will be a part 2 at some point because i will most certainly slip and slide back into horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi one of these days

Heat clinic.

Such a nice, polite word for what’s essentially a fuck-centre.

Yes, you know in reality it’s just another facet of reproductive healthcare services, and there’s nothing really intimate about it—if the dozens of screenings, tests, and legal documents were anything to go by—but the concept itself is still a little funny. The idea that something so inherently primal could just be dressed up in some clinical wording and a facade with the aesthetic of a dentist’s office and suddenly be completely socially acceptable.

A foggy part of your brain is trying to do the same right now and draft up some polite excuse as to why you had to leave work early today, but with the way Yanagi’s cock is literally rearranging your insides, it’s an effort in futility.

You almost melt against the sheets with another low, drawn out moan feeling her all the way in your damn stomach. You barely even remember how you got here; your heat, the damn unpredictable thing it is, had hit early while you were still on your shift. Staying in the store would’ve been a terrible idea, what with it almost being rush hour, and so your poor boss—a beta man, thankfully—had sped you on over to the nearest heat clinic in Lumina Square. And you had writhed and squirmed on the bed that had too many too sterile pillows for God knows how long until they finally managed to send an alpha in to help you. She’d smelled of fresh laundry and warm bread and by that point there really wasn’t much else you wanted to think about besides getting her scent all over you immediately.

“Yanagi,” you whine, wiggling your hips petulantly at her slow, controlled pace. It’s strange, how well her name fits on her tongue despite you only learning it a few—minutes? hours? you don’t even know, honestly—ago. The alpha behind you croons low in her throat, leaning down to brush the bare, sweat-damp skin of your shoulder with her nose. But instead of that skin-to-skin you expect, you get smooth leather instead, and you remember that this is a damn heat clinic, and all heat clinic alphas have to wear a Mask.

It’s a safety precaution, and a sensible one at that; having an omega be accidentally marked during what should just be a transactional encounter would be horrifying for both the alpha and omega, and a world of legal pain for the clinic. Hence the invention of the Mask—a generally non-invasive little leather contraption that covers the alpha’s mouth completely, with well placed openings to still allow for easy breathing and speech. You’re normally more grateful for its existence in keeping omegas such as yourself safe, but right now it may as well have been invented by the devil.

“Breathe,” Yanagi reminds you, her voice ever so soft in a way you’ve never heard an alpha be before. Your previous heat partners, while still somewhat gentle—you’d specified as such in your documentation—still tended to have that typical alpha-ness to them. Demanding and commanding, eager to take and wring as many orgasms from you as they can manage. Which is, of course, exactly what you need, deep in the throes of heat as you are, but it leaves you with a rather heavy mental weight after that takes a while to lift. But Yanagi is calm, measured, and careful, even as she sinks balls deep into you, knot bumping the stubborn ring of your entrance. It makes your basest omega instinct preen with satisfaction at being so tenderly cared for, that you find yourself thinking, quite stupidly, that you could get used to this—to Yanagi.

She coaxes you out of that little reverie with the brush of her thumb against your clit. You jolt, startled but pleased, rocking forward slightly onto the sheets ruined with your slick. Yanagi follows with a roll of her hips, bumping the head of her wonderful cock against that spongy collection of nerves and drawing another warbling cry of her name from your lips. She moves with such patient elegance and finesse that you’d think she wasn’t in rut and had to find refuge in the nearest heat clinic like you. Or, rut clinic, in her case. This particular branch in Lumina Square did both, and what a blessing that turned out to be.

“Yanagi, faster,” you urge, whiny and out of your mind with lust, looking over your shoulder at her. Soft pink eyes meet your own, and her pupils blow just a little wider. You hear her breathe in deep through her mouth, the sound amplified by the Mask, and a primal giddiness runs down your spine. You know what she’s doing; inhaling your scent and letting it coat the inside of her mouth, her throat, and letting it fan the flames of her own lust. She relents with the quietest growl you’ve heard from an alpha, drawing her hands back to rest them on your hips, palms flat against your skin.

And then she’s snapping her hips forward, fucking you, and you’re completely and utterly gone. Your head drops, cheek against the mattress as your arms give out under you, and you melt against the sheets into a delicate arch that has Yanagi twitching inside you. Your brain drips out of your pussy around her cock, not a damn thought in your mind beyond the steady, rhythmic drives of her railing you senseless. You can feel her knot swelling, bumping against the lips of your cunt and it only makes you squeeze tighter around her.

Yanagi pants behind you, nails digging more into the meat of your hips. The scent of her floods your senses, and she almost smells like home were it not for the underlying, extremely faint but still somewhat noticeable scent of ozone and iron. She’s testing the waters with her knot, seeing how much you’re ready to give by pushing it forward ever so slightly then drawing back. It makes your fingers curl in the sheets, more needy whines falling from your lips as you beg her to stuff you full. Yanagi shudders at that, leaning down to—or attempting to—nose the dip of your spine between your shoulder blades.

“I’m going to knot you,” she promises gently, and you mewl in anticipation. “Be sweet for me, okay? Breathe, and relax. You’re doing so well, good girl.”

Holy fuck.

“Likes to be praised” was not an option even given to you on the forms, but somehow, either by luck or intuition, Yanagi had struck absolute gold. You nearly cum then and there at the praise, moaning unashamedly as your cunt clenches like a vise around her cock. Yanagi makes a small, choked noise in the back of her throat, clawing at your hips to steady herself again. It takes her a moment and several calming breaths before she can resume her slow press into you and you bite the sheets to make up for the fact you can’t sink your teeth into her shoulder instead.

Yanagi is already big, deliciously so, but her knot is certainly something else. You’re suddenly grateful for the generous amount of lube that was provided in the room and that Yanagi had the sense to use before she stuffed you full of her cock. It makes the stretch of her controlled slide into you far more bearable—not that you would’ve given up even if it wasn’t. Heat crazed as you are, you’re sure you’d find a way. Thankfully, Yanagi’s foresight made such extremes unnecessary, and she nuzzles soothingly at your neck, by your scent gland as she inches deeper and deeper, stretching you more and more until her knot slips fully inside you with a wet pop.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you cum with a loud cry, inner walls spasming and fluttering around her thick length. You almost feel like you might pass out, utterly light headed, cumming not in spite of the stretch but because of it. Fuck, Yanagi might just have ruined you for any other alpha. You feel your slick spray out and coat your thighs despite the knot buried inside you, and you make a noise between a moan and a sob as your orgasm rips through you viciously. Yanagi rocks and grunts behind you, riding that knife’s edge of stimulation until she’s tipping off of it herself, releasing your hips in favor of bracing herself over you, palms bracketing your head as she spills into you with a stifled, drawn out groan. You feel her throb inside you, pulsing with each jet of cum she deposits into your eager cunt. You can’t help but preen at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly, which Yanagi returns with a low, soothing croon.

She makes sure to lie on her side to recover, deceptively strong yet slim arms holding you close. It’s a welcome reprieve from the many alphas who would simply flop on top of you and crush you into the mattress, and you make a pleased noise, your brain buzzing with happy, satiated chemicals. Her cosy scent just makes you relax further, sweet honey on fresh toast, like home, and you find your eyelids drooping. Yanagi notices, and a lilting, melodic laugh resonates through the Mask.

“Rest,” she says gently, a hand caressing your side, “you did well.”

You have some time to kill anyway, knotted together as you both are. So you take her suggestion, and drift off into a satisfied slumber. What happens next is for your heat-free brain to deal with, but you’re certain of at least one thing: you’re not spending your next heat with anyone other than her.

When you wake, you wake woefully bereft.

Your thighs are parted, and you hiss when something wet and cold touches your skin. You blink open your eyes blearily, and find Yanagi looking down at you from where she kneels by your side, running a washcloth along your inner thigh. Her Mask is off, set on the bedside table now that both of you are somewhat stable enough to head back home and weather the rest of your respective heat and ruts privately. Her lips are curved into a small, glossy smile, and a pair of red-rimmed glasses rest delicately on the bridge of her nose.

“Did you rest well?” she asks, smoothing the washcloth down your other thigh. “I hope you don’t mind that I took some initiative. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or sticky when waking up.”

It takes you a while to find your voice, but when you do find it, it’s utterly wrecked. Yanagi flushes slightly at the sound when you speak, looking ridiculously cute for someone who just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Yes to the first, no to the second,” you answer, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Yanagi’s smile broadens, and she shakes her head lightly. “I should be thanking you—my rut hit early out of nowhere, and if you weren’t willing…”

“I could say the same for you,” you rasp wryly, watching as she diligently cleans you. She takes care not to give too much stimulation to your sensitive sex, but makes sure to clean up the remaining drops of her cum that still leak from you. “I guess we both got lucky.”

“Quite,” Yanagi agrees, and you see her throat bob as she tries not to focus on the way her seed drips out of your cunt. “In any case, you were… very helpful. Thank you.”

You manage a dry chuckle at that. What a polite alpha. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

The flush on her cheeks deepens ever so slightly, and she ducks her gaze away from yours, almost bashful. She sets the cloth down on a disposal bin on the bedside table, then turns to grab something further down the bed. A surprised noise leaves your lips when you see what it is: your clothing, all neatly folded. And if your nose is telling you the truth—

“I… took the liberty to scent your shirt,” she admits, still not meeting your eyes. “Just to tide you over until you make it home. It should deter any other alphas from trying anything.”

You swallow, throat suddenly dry. You wonder if you’re dreaming—do alphas this nice really exist? You’ve met your fair share of decent alphas, but they all have that typical alpha arrogance about them. If she hadn’t just knotted you, you might have thought she was an omega with how tender she’s being, and you find yourself thinking for the second time today how you could get so used to this.

“Thank you,” you say eventually. Yanagi nods, relieved, then rises from the bed. She’s already clothed; although, she didn’t take much of her clothes off while fucking you in the first place, just popping a few buttons of her shirt and hiking her skirt up enough to get it out of the way after ditching her corset. She fixes the tassels of her tie, ready to head out the door, and the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Do you want to do this again?”

Your jaw clicks shut as soon as Yanagi stills, turning to face you with a puzzled look on her face. She blinks, brows furrowing as she considers your words. “This… again?”

“There’s an option for, uh— scheduled sessions between an alpha and an omega, if they choose,” you explain, trying not to sound as nervous as you feel. “It saves on hoping for another presentation to be available when your heat or rut rolls around.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Yanagi hums, eyes drifting to the side as she takes a moment to consider.

“It’d be convenient,” you continue, unable to help yourself from pressing a little more. If you sound desperate, you can’t be bothered to be ashamed. You’d rather lose your dignity than this damn perfect alpha before you. “And you’re someone who likes convenience and routine, right?”

Yanagi raises a brow. “How did you figure that?”

“Well,” you shrug, attempting nonchalance, “I suppose it was a lucky guess. How did you know I liked being praised?”

Yanagi turns beet red at that, a palm shooting up to cover half her face. Even her ears are a delicate blush colour. “It just… felt right,” she mumbles, her home-like scent thick with embarrassment. You chuckle softly at that.

“See? I think this could be mutually beneficial, Yanagi. What do you say?”

The time it takes her to think feels like it stretches on forever. You can almost see the gears on her head turning, analysing, as if weighing the costs and benefits over every last detail of your proposal. Those pink eyes gleam with an intensity you can’t help but feel drawn to in a way you’ve never felt before with any alpha. Eventually, she turns back to you with a small, polite smile.

“We could give it a shot.”

You grin, feeling relief flood your system so strongly you nearly fall back onto the bed. “Sounds great. I’ll see you next month, then?”

“Next month,” Yanagi returns, and then she slips out the door with the click of heels on cold tile. You flop back onto the pillows when the door closes, unable to stifle a giddy, girlish laugh from spilling from your lips.

God, for once in your life, you can’t wait for your next heat.

[siri-ike]

Stepping out of the plane was a breath of fresh air. Literally, Gothams air was discusting. His stay there hadn't exactly been the relaxing getaway it was meant to, but he was still refreshed by it.

The ride home was unusually peaceful, too. His parents just talked to each other the whole time. Kind of odd that they barely said a word to him after almost 3 months apart. But that just gave him more time to text Steph and Tim in one chat and Sam and Tucker in another. He must have looked too happy or something because right when they got home, his parents felt the need to ruin everything.

"A private school!?"

"It's a high-end academy. They have a very low exeptance rate."

"What, so, 3 months without me wasn't enough? You have to immediately send me away again!?"

"Sweetheart, this is a wonderful opportunity.  It could set you up for careers in almost anything."

"DO YOU JUST NOT LIKE HAVING ME AROUND? Is that it?!" Danny had to storm upstairs so no one would see the tears welling up in his eyes. Unfortunately, he left his bag downstairs, and there is no way he's going back for it. He'll just explain away the batarang if they snoop.

Danny throws himself dramatically onto his bed. It's a show for no one but himself. Amorpho would be proud.

*knock-knock*

"I DON'T wanna talk!" He yelled, mostly into his pillow.

"Heard the news then." Jazz's voice couldn't have been more welcome.

"They can't even let me be home for a full week before sending me away again." He wasn't crying. You're crying.

"It was Vlads idea."

"So I looked into it. On the surface, Hive looks legit."

"But?"

"Would a normal upstanding school call itself "Hive"? Or be recommended by Vlad? I couldn't find any information about the staff.  Since it was established 3 years ago, no one has graduated. They don't have a website. The only way to get in is through scholarship, and the scholarships are always by a random rich guy or some shady organization. And the students? Identities are kept completely seacret. The only one I was able to find was that Lex Luther supposedly sent his son there, who, by the way, has no prior record of existing." She had deffinetly been waiting to get that out.

Danny sat up in his bed, intrigued. "What about Vlads angle. What's he get out of this?"

"That's what bothers me. Does he just want you out of Amity? Or is it something else? Like some kind of... evil... brainwashing, uh, clone school," that last part got away from her. "What if you show up and it's just more Danny Phantom clones, all ready to learn how to be Danny Phantom?!"

"Jazz, he wasn't even able to make one stable clone." Danny mocked his enemy. "If I go and there are a bunch more of me, then they'd probably be robots or something. Rich people love robots." He 'reassured'.

The two went on, and their theories got wilder and less serious as the hours passed. Until they went to Nasty Burger to meet Sam and Tucker. Danny claimed to want a taste of home, but the others didn't particularly care for a burger so early in the morning. Of course, they had to throw their theories into the ring, haunted boarding school full of Pointdexter knockoffs. Zombies, alternate dimensions, walkers prison brought to the human realm, but soon they got lost in other topics.

Hours turned to days, and before they knew, it was time to say goodbye again.

Getting to the school was a blur. He literally could not remember how he got there, no matter how much he tried. It was a big purple building in the shape of an H. Anything that purple has to be evil. And what's the deal with putting it in the middle of the water? Trying to keep him in or something?

It was even worse inside. The walls, floors, ceilings, everything was yellow broken up into hexagons with thin black lines. Well, they're wrong if they think he'll be distracted by the beauty of nature's most perfect shape... anything this yellow has to be evil.

In the entrance hall stood a polite looking boy, maybe 17 or 18 years old. He wore a suit, no, not just a suit. Tails. The only time Danny had even seen a jacket like that was in cartoons.

"Good morning. Are you Danny?" Oh no, he was here for him.

"Good morning," Danny avoided eye contact. "Yes, I'm Danny."

"Great!" He's so cheerful. "I'm Blacksun, but you can call me Ethan."

"Ok, Ethan. Why are you dressed for the opera?" Danny snided.

Ethan looks down at his clothes. "It is a tailcoat. Appropriate for the most formal events. Such as important celebrations, and what's a greater celebration than starting a new semester of the finest educational institution?" He recited proudly. "Come now. The training hall awaits. This is your chance to show the panel your talents. We can drop off your luggage with Horace. He'll take it to your room. Is that what you wear in battle, or do you need to change?"

Oh-oh. Was he supposed to be prepared for something. Battle?! "I need to change." He panicked, rushing into the room Ethan pointed towards with nothing but the one duffel that he and his friends packed last minute like a bunch of morons.

He dumped the contents onto a large table in the middle of the locker room.

Cutesy of Jazz: two sets of extra clothes, a hazmat suit (each wrapped up for efficient use of storage), some fentonworks shower gels and cleaning chemicals, and a printed out article on how to make friends.

Tucker: a laptop (clearly assembled himself), somehow warm beef jerkey and ducktape.

From Sam: so many seed packets, a compact watering can, and a switchblade.

That's OK. He can work with this.

Danny walked out into a large, wide open room. Looking up, he could see a crowd of people watching him. Suffering spooks. That's what he is right now. Best case scenario, he gets expelled. Worst case, he gets exposed. And there's not exactly a lot of middle ground.

There was an announcer. A male voice saying something over the speakers. It was probably important. As soon as it stopped, the obvious trap door that Danny had been staring at opened up. Through it rose a robot on a platform, roughly twice Danny's height.

It swung at him, and Danny immediately hit the floor running as fast as he could. The good news is it was slower than him. He discreetly reached into his shoulder and retreated some seed packets. Opening them up and letting them fall on the ground wherever he stands. The audience laughs. By the time he's spilled his 5th packet, Danny has covered the distance back to the door where he entered. Now, all he has to do is somehow get to the other side of a giant hostile robot trying to kill him.

5. Danny stares it down. He had built precious seconds worth of distance. He got to a running position. 4. He grabbed Fenton weed killer out of his thigh. 3. He ran towards the bot. 2,1. The robot throws a punch, but Danny dodges, and it hists the ground instead. He climbs up its arm, onto its back, and jumps down. All in one fell swoop. He runs again, this time spraying the seed pods with the concoction. The smell is so nauseating that he has to cover his mouth and nose. The robot is able to run past the first patch before they sprout into their monstrous ghost forms, but the second slowes it down. Then, the third manages to break off an arm. It gets stuck in the fourth.

He had made it well past the fifth patch and would have kept running, were it not for the sound of cheering.

Maybe Danny Fenton can be a baddie, too.

guess which show I binged while sick…(can’t fucking watch anything without thinking up a dp au for it)

danny phantom teen titans crossover au idea

 Vlad tricks the Fentons into sending danny to Hive Academy (so he can learn to be his evil apprentice/son or some shit). maybe by saying that its a super prestigious school that anyone would kill to attend, or like, its a school that specializes in helping troubled youth and setting them up on the path to successes (yeah successful super villains), or some other vapid nonsense.  either way Jack and Maddie fall for it and decide to send Danny there.

Danny probably doesn’t know exactly what Hive Academy(H.A.) is about, but he knows enough to understand that he doesn’t want anything to do with the place. maybe cause Vlad said something to him, or he overheard Vlad talking to someone about him attending. but he doesn’t get a choose about going, cause Jack and Maddie think it’ll fix danny’s school problem.(it won’t, its just replacing 1 set of problems for another)

from there, there would be a lot of danny+sam+tucker freaking out about danny not being there to protect the town from ghosts(maybe Jazz and Valerie too) And them trying everything they can think of to get danny out of it. nothing works but they still try.

after that Im not really sure about the specific stuff. Danny would probably do really well at H.A. cause the whole point of the place is to teach super powered kids how to use those powers (even if the reason completely clashes with danny’s morals) And then maybe Danny meets another kid there that doesn’t want to be a villain so the 2 of them team up to… idk,  rat the school out to the heroes and shit happens from there.

[bitchface24-7]

Can we do angst with Viktor x Vastaya reader since they're long lived?

PSST PSST PSST - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you've known Viktor ever since you two were kids, and you've always known deep down that you'd never get enough time with him. Even without the grey plaguing his lungs, you're a vastaya; you live much longer than a healthy human. Never mind a chronically ill one. You'll either help Viktor find a cure, or you'll ensure you die with him.

warnings: talks of illness/death, passive suicidal ideation (you don't have a plan, it's a what-if kinda deal), love confessions, childhood friends to lovers, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I'm so sorry, I’m not sure if I could just write pure angst (my babies already been through ENOUGH) so I made it a little fluffy to help my hurt heart. Hope y'all enjoy!

You remember the day you met Viktor like it was yesterday. He was by a ravine, fiddling with a toy boat. He was alone, and so were you.

The kids in Zaun were just as cruel as the adults could be. They didn't like Viktor due to his weak leg, they didn't like you due to the fact you weren't human. So you decided to be brave and introduce yourself to the boy.

He was apprehensive at first, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. But after a minute of friendly discussion, his demeanour softened. It completely melted when you asked him how he built his boat, with sparkles in your eyes as you were invested in his explanation.

After a while, he introduces himself, “My name is Viktor… what’s yours?”

You smile and give him your name. Viktor nods before his lips thin and he looks a bit weary again, “Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I’m sick.”

You throw his question back at him, “Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I'm not even human.”

Viktor giggles, “I’ve always liked cats.” He lightly pokes one of your ears and you play along, flicking your ear in mock irritation to hear his giggle again.

“And I don't care that you're sick. We’ll find a way to make you better.”

Viktor's eyes sparkle as he looks at you, and with that; the start of a wonderful friendship is born.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The years go by and Viktor's illness progresses slowly. Some years it stays stagnated, in others it progresses rapidly.

And you're there for every second of it.

While Viktor works away in a lab with his partner Jayce trying to improve the world in the one way he's confident in, through science; you work at a small but well-known boutique in Piltover. The academy is most notably known for their STEM programs, but there's a multitude of others to choose from. Architecture, anthropology, culinary, mixology, english, politics, cosmetology. You name it, the academy has it. So you chose fashion design.

The only reason you've even been given this opportunity is because of Viktor. Heimerdinger was desperate to make Viktor his protege, but Viktor had one demand. You'd be able to come with him.

Heimerdinger couldn't refuse.

So it’s no surprise when you get a call at work and damn near drop the phone in a panic. It’s a clinic, Viktor’s their patient, he fainted, you're his emergency contact on file, he wants to see you.

Your co-worker can already tell something is wrong and ushers you to leave. “I can hold the shop down no problem. Go deal with your emergency.”

You thank her profusely as you rush to the clinic, your hind legs much stronger than a humans; you get there in half the time.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor looks so small in the bed. A nasal cannula in his nose giving him a steady stream of light oxygen. His skin is even paler and he has a smidge of dried blood on the philtrum below his nose.

You grab a moist towlette and go to clean the blood with a small, “How’re you feeling?”

A small chuckle escapes the man before a coughing fit erupts from his chest. You hastily bring over his cup of water and help him drink it, not wanting him to get his hospital gown wet.

“I’m doing better than I was about an hour ago. I finally convinced Jayce to go home to sleep.”

Your ear flicks in annoyance as your eyebrows furrow, “How long have you been here?”

Viktor purses his lips and looks away from you.

“Viktor.”

“A few hours.”

“What! And I'm just getting called now?! Viktor!”

“If I had it my way, you wouldn't have been called at all!”

You reel back at that, you can feel your eyes stinging.

“The nurse said you wanted to see me.”

Viktor sighs, relaxing back into the bed as best he can, “I did, I do want to see you. But I don't want you to see me like this.”

“Tired?”

“Dying.”

The look of resignation on Viktors face pulls at your heartstrings. He looks so downtrodden. So tired.

You cup one of Viktor's hands in your own, “You said that you and Jayce found something with the hexcore. Maybe that's the key! It saved that plant, it could save you too.”

Viktor sighs, “I don't know why you've stuck by my side for so long. I'll be nothing more than a blip in your lifetime. An insignificant speck in your story.”

The grip you have on Viktor's hand tightens, “Because you're my best friend and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You smile lightly and shake your head, “No Viktor, I love you. I'd rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. Who cares if my lifespan is longer than yours? You act like I won't follow you. Like I wouldn't fight all the gods to get you back. And if that wasn't an option, we’d be together forever in the cosmos. It’s you and me, together and always.”

Viktor sits there stunned as you look at him with all the love you have tucked away in your heart, and it’s quite a lot.

You shuffle slightly on the wooden chair, you feel like you're going to throw up due to the nerves, “…Are you going to say something?”

But Viktor isn't a talker, he's a doer. So he shows you the best way he can.

He leans forward and kisses you. It's the most passionate, loving, all-consuming kiss you've ever experienced. When the two of you eventually pull away, you're left speechless and you swear your eyes have hearts in them. You know for a fact your pupils that are typically slits are completely blown out now.

A purr encapsulates the room and Viktor smugly cozies himself back into his bed. You feel your face heat up as you hold yourself back from throttling him. Purring is very special. Very few people get to hear a vastaya purr, and once Viktor heard about the specialty and connected the dots on how often you purred around him, he made it a game to see how quickly he could get you to make that wonderful sound.

This is the quickest way by far.

“Have I ever told you how much I like cats?”

You smile fondly at the man, cupping his face with one of your hands, “Once, the day we met.”

Viktor hums, “You’ll be hearing me say it a lot more now.”

A loud laugh escapes you and Viktor looks at you with nothing but love.

“Do I have any competition with the stray cat you feed by our apartment?”

“No. Blitzcrank is a menace, he’s more like our sucky child. You’re my favourite.”

You huff at him as your purrs pick up in volume, the kiss you plant on his cheek is full of possessiveness, “I better be.”

“You are, darling. You are.”

Tadaaaa!!! This idea was so *chefs kiss* it’s a very interesting dynamic I never would’ve thought of myself. If you saw the LoTR reference, no you didn’t. Hope y’all enjoy!

[helsensm]

this one has been sitting in my wips since October (face was baaaad, I struggled too much), but today I finally was in a mood to fix it up a little bit and slap some colors 👐 and- wait, what is THAT? is that… is that a backstory?? WOW 🤯

Saoirse (she/her), 28 y/o human, Shaolin warrior monk from Outworld

TW: implied SA, child аbuse

Bio: Irish by origin, Saoirse was separated from her parents in early childhood. She grew up in China's hinterlands in brothel/gambling house – the base of the local “crime lord”. Forced to live among and interact with people of all kinds (mostly not great), Saoirse quickly learned to mimic other’s behavior and play different roles – and later she started to use this skill in martial arts.

When she was 12, one of the magic rituals that the crime lord liked to perform there, ended up with the soul of the sacrifice getting “corrupted” and possessing Saoirse. No one realized what really happened, and her mood swings and growing aggression were blamed on puberty. After another few years Saoirse snapped and with the help of the spirit and newfound abilities кilled every client she saw, as well as brothel keepers, and burnt the place down.

After that, she jumps from orphanage to foster care and back for some time before ending up in Shaolin monastery. And after several tough years there she finally finds a place for herself. Now she lives in Academy, teaching young and new initiates and helping other broken people, who struggle to accept the past and find piece, as she did. And although she’s not an “official” Earthrealm’s defender, she’s ready to take any task given by Lord Liu Kang and land a hand to her friends.

Personality: As a “carrier” for a spirit-embodiment of rage and vengeance, Saoirse faced the issue of learning how to control her anger and manage her abilities. After the accident at the Academy, when her recklessness caused one of the students getting injured, she left the Shaolin for a few years. She trained in meditated in isolation under the control of one of the monks. Now Saoirse has her emotions under fine control, and most of the time shows herself as politely distant, calm person – or mirroring the demeanor of people around her. In relaxed atmosphere, among friends and people she trusts, her inner child comes out. She becomes more energetic, playfully sarcastic and prone to mischief. In any situation Saoirse thinks before she acts, and overall gives the impression of a person who is confident in their abilities.

[unknown-cold]

The artist: ( @itshuansart )on Instagram and Twitter/X

I love this so much!! Best art that expresses Caitlyn's sadness and suffering, I really wish I had seen something like this on the show.

I can say that Caitlyn's character is one of the most misunderstood characters ever, that these people see Caitlyn as just an enforcer from Piltover made them not understand her, or rather they don't want to understand her character.

Because it's getting really suspicious, I feel like Caitlyn's hate is more than just a character who did bad things. There are characters who did worse things. Let's take Silco, one of the characters who did the worst things in the entire show, from trying to kill an entire family for control, to flooding his entire population with shimmer and turning some of them into monsters and making children work in dangerous factories, all of this and he didn't get half the hate that Caitlyn did. Silco is a true dictator who didn't care about anyone but himself and his interests and his intentions were always evil. Unlike Caitlyn, she tried in the end to fix her mistakes and admitted her mistakes too. And to everyone says she is evil or dictatorial because she used gas, is it a bad thing yes, but Caitlyn had no evil intentions in using gas, she used Gray to facilitate the capture of Silco's gangs and allies who were basically harming the people of Zaun even the kids as we saw in ep 2 in S2 when Chross's Goons was following Isha, and of course capturing Jinx as well, she did that because it was a less harmful solution than sending armies of enforcers and Noxus men to Zaun, and we saw because she stopped using Gray after she end her mission and failed to capture Jinx. If Caitlyn was really evil and dictatorial as some people claim, she would have used Gray again to exterminate the people of Zaun, but she didn't do that because that's not her personality that we knew in season 1, and most of the problems that happened were because of Ambessa, and her manipulation and constant incitement for Caitlyn to capture Jinx.

So yeah hating on Caitlyn is so hypocritical and completely unnecessary, seriously I can't believe there are still people who message me and reblog my blogs and not just me but other people saying that Caitlyn is an evil cop and you should stop talking about her and liking her, or you'll be just like her. Are these people crazy or stupid or what exactly!? What does my liking a fictional character have to do with you thinking that I'll be like her in real life!? These people really need to grow up and leave people alone, like if you don't like something and you see someone else like it there's no need to give them your opinion because they won't care and we who like the same thing won't care either so why bother us with your opinion, and then it's selfish of you to want other people to be like you and agree with you (especially when your style of criticism is rude and terrible)

So I always say the show is not black and white, and there isn't only one side good and another side bad. Arcane proves every day that this show is not for everyone and if you want to enjoy it you have to open your mind well and be open-minded, and most importantly put politics and real-life issues aside, and enjoy this fantasy world with flawed characters and good writing. (This show is not designed to solve political issues. At the end of the day it is a show based on a video game)

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I think I've figured out why these comments (which all came in the last few weeks) did get under my skin a little, and I'm not going to put this in a direct reply because it's basically a non-sequitar about my personal life but I feel like trying to put some nebulous notion I've been grasping at into words.

I spent a couple of weeks last month caring for a dying family member. (She has now passed away.) During that time, she was deeply helpless. Could barely speak, couldn't get out of bed, too weak to do anything. She had no control whatsoever over what happened to her, not which food we spooned into her mouth, not which music I played, not the tv, nothing at all. She was lucid, understanding what was said to her, but powerless.

But we could ask her. We could ask her if she wanted this cd or the other one, if she wanted soup, or chocolate. If she was comfortable, or if she wanted her bed up or down. If she wanted to try another course of antibiotics. If she wanted me to call my aunt.

She could usually manage a nod or slight shake, and very occasionally she could speak.

Most of us won't encounter an actual slave in our lives, but we will encounter people who have limited power over their lives, their environment, themselves. Whether by injustice or just... Disability. Age. Children are extremely vulnerable too.

A solid chunk of my own political foundation is that I don't think anyone should have power over others- that the best way to prevent abuse is to structure things, as much as possible, so that abuse isn't an option and we aren't reliant on individual character - on kindness- as our only protection.

But even in a world without institutions like slavery, you can still be powerless. You can still be reliant on the kindness of whoever's care you're in.

I hope they are kind. I hope they listen to you. I hope you are kind. I hope you listen. When you do- when you listen, and you respect them - you are the one affording them agency. That's something you have the power to do. That might be the only thing you can do.

Shmi in tpm always has dignity, and her agency is emphasized, it's noteworthy. She's still not a main character- she's a role and a messenger more than a person in some ways- but her words and her choices are given respect by both the narrative and the main characters. She conveys several of the central themes and messages of the movies- and the entire series, bookending Vader's eventual choice. When Anakin wants to race, she is the one one who's permission he needs. She and Qui Gon speak quite extensively about Anakin going to the temple, and it's only with her permission that he asks Anakin, and then it's only with her encouragement that agrees. She's constricted by the harshest of circumstances, but her choices are some of the most important of the movie.

And she has this dignity about her.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I keep seeing people worship Christian Linke for some shit he’s said and ignore the fact this man is antisemetic and heavily insensitive towards non white and straight characters HE IS NOT YOUR ALLY

I genuinely think people just don't know how much of a shitty person he is. Seriously, that dude was quite possibly the worst person to put in charge of a project like Arcane. Here are just some of things he's said that you should know of:

• Linke said the death of every character in Arcane was a direct result of their own actions : "Every single big beat in the end with our characters, whether it’s a death or not, is a consequence of their choices."

So, I'd like you to explain to me how Vander's death was his fault, because I don't quite remember him agreeing to becoming Warwick. Also, maybe having the three characters portrayed as suicidal in the show (Jinx, Viktor, and Jayce) all die, and go on to say it was just the consequences of their own actions... isn't a good message?

• Linke has declared Viktor as asexual on his own, with the sole purpose of discouraging JayVik shippers : "There is a love. I don't think it's romantic [...]. To me, Viktor was always asexual".

Now, the issue here isn't having an asexual character, its having chosen VIKTOR, one of the most important characters for disabled rep in animation and popular media, to be asexual. I've went on and on about how infantalizing that is to disabled/chronically ill fans, because we NEVER get to be perceived as sexual beings. Having a body that's visibly different from the norm, or limits on certain abilities, turns off people, makes them uncomfortable. That's why you just never see a sexually active or a sex positive disabled character on screen. That's why, in all his "sexy" skins in LoL, Viktor is given a six pack, has no visible marks of illness on his body (scars, fatigue lines), and has no medical brace or crutch.

Viktor was always intended to have a sexual swagger in season 1 ("this isnt my bedroom") and that was EXTREMELY important to a lot of us in the community. I've seen a very similar response from the asexual community as well, who feel like Linke is using their identity and experience as a shield from fan interractions he dislikes, and without actual care for what it means to the characters. Don't fall for rep that isn't actually meant to represent you.

• Linke has directly and openly compared the Zaun and Piltover conflict to the left and right in the United States, and put both sides on equal moral footing : "If you’re asking me whether we were inspired by two sides of one nation who are incapable of even talking to each other anymore at a certain point, yes."

So, I don't think I need to explain how bad this is. Remember that Piltover is the city of wealth and enforcers, and that they've gazed the district of Zaun, dumped chemicals around their water suplies, directed brutal and deadly repressions of civil uprising and protest, offered no financial support to the struggling communities of addicts, disabled people, and orphans, refused Zaun any implication or decisional seat in the city political life, AND THAT'S JUST ON TOP OF MY HEAD. Now, think about what that means with the USA politics comparison, and the idea that they should "just listen to each other". Yeah.

Now, if you know me a bit, you know I live in Canada, so maybe you think this doesn't affect me personally, or that it doesn't affect you because you live outside the US. To that, I want to tell you about a neighbour of mine, who lives on the street parallel to my house, and this truck he owns. The truck has a whole lot of fun stickers and flags on it: the quotes "TRUDEAU ARREST TRUMP" and "CANADIANS FOR TRUMP", the israeli flag, the confederate flag, christian crosses, the blue lives matter flag, and an anti BLM sticker. Now, I'm sure theres more cool things, I've just never gotten close enough to look at the smaller stickers and ornaments because, as a very openly bi arabic woman, I'm scared to death of that man. But maybe I should just hear him out, right?

Tldr, do not think that the state of american politics doesn’t affect the rest of the world.

• Linke has called the people of Zaun and specifically Silco "Svengali", which is an antisemitic name that implies Jewish people are crooks / dirty / thiefs / sexual degenerates. There's a great post on Tumblr that goes more into detail about this (https://www.tumblr.com/endearing-dalliance/769693230696677376/another-blow-against-arcane-anti-semitism?source=share). I'd just like to insist on how bad calling someone "svengali" is. His character was used in many pieces of propaganda in Nazi Germany to picture the "Evil Jew", and to dehumanize Jewish communities by portraying them as ressembling Satan (forked beard, can do unholy hypnosis, targets women...). Linke could have chosen ANY other term to talk about Zaunites, the oppressed community getting gazed by a police state, but he chose that one. That was not an unconscious decision.

I'm a firm believer that it is possible to separate art from artist/studio/company, and to appreciate something while still being aware the person behind it is not a great individual. However, if you're defending all the decisions made in season 2, these are things you HAVE to be aware of.

[blackfoy]

The King's Soulmate

Jayce is royalty, or close enough to it. Viktor is a prisoner from the neighboring kingdom of Zaun. Several Zaunites are brought before them, intended to be slaves to the highest in Piltover. The slavemaster doesn’t think Viktor is all that important, and with his disability, is prepared to kill him once he is not chosen. Much to everyone's surprise, Jayce chooses Viktor and will hear no other argument. He has visions of other worlds due to him messing with the Arcane, so he knows that this man will be the most important man in his life. Viktor has no clue why the King of Piltover calls him Perfect, and he is both flattered and terrified.

Nobody from Piltover knows that Viktor and Violet are the eldest Prince and Princess of Zaun. Zaun royalty does not dress like royalty, so they were assumed to be just another couple of citizens. Tensions rise even further between the two countries, war on the horizon, and Piltover doesn't even know what they've done. Zaun has no proof that they are the ones who took their Prince and Princess, so things build slowly over time. Viktor and Violet assume that Jayce and Caitlyn know what they have done, the statement they are making by keeping them.

Viktor finds out how oblivious Jayce is when Jinx/Powder breaks in to rescue them and kill their captors. Viktor is in the middle of trying to convince the youngest Princess not to assassinate the King of Piltover when Jayce wakes up, sees the armed intruded fighting with Viktor, and immediately puts himself between them, shielding Viktor with his body. This makes the younger girl very confused since she had been expecting a gaudy and snooty man who didn't care for their lives. Viktor manages to talk them both down, and their conversation leads him to figure out how little Jayce knows. Jayce finds out that the assassin was there to rescue the slaves, and while he's actually a little relieved and will make no move to stop her, he really doesn't want Viktor to leave, and makes this clear in his body language and hesitant words. In the end, Viktor stays while Jinx/Powder goes to find the other slaves and bring news back to the Kings of Zaun.

In the end, after some sneaking around of Vi and Viktor's parts, Zaun proposes a peace treaty to Piltover. It is a bunch of normal politics stuff, along with a double-arranged marriage. The King and the Head Guard of Piltover would marry the eldest Prince and Princess of Zaun. Both Jayce and Caitlyn protest, both wishing to be with their partners, but in the end they agree to the terms.

Part of the treaty was also to free all Zaunite slaves, and while Vi and Viktor had been practically free already, this just made it official. They hadn't been expecting the two to actually leave, and both become even more stressed without them. But then the wedding day comes, and the Zaunite royalty arrives, and everyone puts everything together. The main characters are overjoyed and in shock, and they all get married and one day unite the kingdoms through their adopted children.

(Currently working on a fic for this au. I have no clue when or if it will get posted, or how long it will be. Once it is posted I will link it here. Wish me luck!)

[ewingstan]

I Need to think more about how Ward treats the trope of reformed/defanged villains.

Parahumans have always played in the space of "nominally villainous character who the heroes can have a non-threatening relationship with," previously exploring it with the joint hero/villain efforts against the ABB or the Endbringers, then with Miss Militia accepting to accept Skitter's dominion in her territory. It was largely political non-aggression. Ward has plenty of that, but the interactions between the Undersiders and Breakthrough have both a more personal element to them and less of a "same side now, different side tomorrow" element. They were co-sponsoring a junior league of capes, for crying out loud.

The Undersiders haven't really filled the old "villain" niche since Rachel's epilogue in Worm, when she helped take care of a rampaging broken trigger with the heroes. Even so, its notable how the Undersiders have done remarkably little in the way of old-fashioned crime in Ward. Hell, the most "anti-social" thing Tattletale's done is sell info on Rain to his cluster, along with selling info to villains more generally. While playing all sides was something that got you slotted as a de-facto villain in Worm, it seems like it actually does get treated more like neutrality-if-not-heroism within the new state of things.

That's mostly notable because a neutral cape in comics tends to default to being a hero with a punk coat of paint. Your Harley Quinns and Deadpools show up on hero ensemble teams nowadays way more often than they're robbing banks. The Undersiders almost feel like they're falling victim to the same sort of heroism drift much of the time, though wildbow seems to want to point out that such a position needs hero buy-in. Vista can tell Victoria about how Aisha and Rachel are basically just ersatz co-workers, and that could accurately describe her relationship with them. But Taylor tried doing something similar, and she didn't actually have that "friendly anti-hero" position until she forced the PRT into a position where she had to be inducted. Before that, even if she was being more proactively heroic than Rachel and Aisha are nowadays*, she was still treated fully as a villain. Friendly anti-hero status requires buy-in from the in-group, and Vicky has always been more hesitant to grant that status—especially to people like Rachel who barely fit into her idea of "cape." At least Lisa plays the game.

*This is, of course, ignoring that Taylor was actively seeking to usurp Protectorate control of the city, whereas the heroes have never really had a similar monopoly in The City, and most of the efforts to form such a monopoly that Victoria has spearheaded have included the Undersiders in some form.

[reasonsforhope]

Re: a couple people in the notes:

Some real talk for the new year, about where we now stand, and what the next years are going to look like. (Still ends on a "be hopeful or else" kind of note, but definitely gets into some heavy truths about the meaning of recent events.)

Look, I'm not saying that the effects of warming aren't already bad, or won't get worse. I'm from California, I currently live in LA. My state's been on fire for half my life. Natural disasters starting amping up early here (and we're certainly in the middle of another historic number now).

But like I said, my state's been breaking horrible disaster records constantly for the past ten years. And you know what? Natural disasters have been getting more and more survivable for years, largely thanks to faster warnings and better mass communication (x).

Does it suck how many natural disasters there are now? Yeah. Are we going to need to organize and mobilize (both politically and especially community-wise) like never before to see as many people through these times as best as possible? Also yeah.

An unknown number of the most optimistic futures were foreclosed when Trump won the US election. That's painful but a reality.

But for twenty-ish of the past twenty-five years, the science said we weren't going to survive climate change at all.

For most of my life, we were worried that we had set Earth on a course to become like fucking Venus (which is, on average, well over 800 degrees Farenheit). Even if it didn't get that bad, we were so worried that global warming might wipe out all life on earth - except maybe the cockroaches. Literally, when I was a younger the kids at my church put on a play about that. It was like an adaptation of A Christmas Carol where the future only had talking cockroaches. I grew up so worried about this. (Yes it was very granola why do you ask.)

But starting a few years ago, studies have shown that there wasn't going to be a runaway greenhouse effect that could turn us into Venus; that earth is warming, yes, but we don't seem to be in danger of that.

Between that and the fact that the adoption of renewables globally is too fast to be stopped, and we do have the technology and environmental science knowledge to eventually re-lower global temperatures by getting to net negative carbon emissions (x), and most countries and at least 73% of people in all countries for which there is data (x) actually care very much about the climate, yeah, we have closed the door on the lava planet future.

And yeah, I do think that's worth celebrating.

That's a massive fucking victory.

Semi-relatedly, I also think that, given the loss of the US election, there's a really, really strong chance the developing world will be what saves us, and we'll just be lucky to be along for the ride.

Most people have no idea of the kinds of stories and statistics coming out of the developing world and Indigenous communities. The world is changing for the better on the environment, even as disasters (and the US) are getting worse. Solar power is going to revolutionize the fucking world, because it's going to grant humanity universal access to electricity, and that's going to revolutionize the world, especially the developing world (aka the global majority). And most people have no idea at all, much less how much it's going to change.

So, yeah, natural disasters are going to keep getting worse.

But there's a long, long long fucking way between "natural disasters are going to keep getting worse" and "the extinction of all of humanity and/or the vast majority of life on earth"

And yeah, I am going to celebrate that fucking difference.

Because for over twenty years, I was afraid I'd never get to.

That difference is absolutely worth celebrating.

We have already averted truly apocalyptic levels of global warming.

Yes, read that again. Let it sink in. This is what the science now says. We have already averted truly apocalyptic global warming.

To quote David Wallace-Wells, author of The Uninhabitable Earth, from his huge feature in the New York Times:

"Thanks to astonishing declines in the price of renewables, a truly global political mobilization, a clearer picture of the energy future and serious policy focus from world leaders, we have cut expected warming almost in half in just five years... The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse." (New York Times, October 22, 2022. Unpaywalled here. Emphasis mine. And yes, this vision of the future is backed up by the current science on the issue, as he explains at length in the article.)

So we've already averted truly apocalyptic warming, and we've already cut expected warming IN HALF in just the past five years.

The pace of technology, of innovation, of prices, of feasibility, of discovery, of organizing, of grassroots movements, of movements in other countries around the world, have all picked up the pace so fast in the last five years.

Renewable technology and capacity are both increasing at an exponential rate. It's all S-curves, ones that look like this:

-via The Economist, June 20, 2024.

How much more will we manage in another five years? Another ten? Another twenty?

I know the US is about to fucking suck about the environment for the next four years. But the momentum of renewable energy is far too much to stop - both in the US (x) and around the world.

(Huge shoutouts to India, China, and Brazil for massive gains for the environment in renewables, and Brazil for massive progress against Amazon deforestation.)

We're going to get there.

Say it with me. We're going to get there.

[sillyletterscomposingsillywords]

Couthon

How often do you ask yourself “What Couthon thought about it?” when you read Robespierre’s and Saint-Just’s opinions about something?

It seems to me (at least this evening) that Thermidorian propaganda was most cruel, albeit unintentionally, to Couthon.

Both Robespierre and Saint-Just were demonized, one as a bloody dictator, another as an “Archangel of Terror”. But these images, though far from reality, were magnetizing. Thermidorian propaganda turned people into a kind of myths characters, into symbols. And they are attrecting (not attective), they make you want to learn more.

What French Revolution movies tend to depict? The Reign of Terror. What people far from the Revolution remember the best? Bastille and the Terror – and so they know Robespierre as a dictator, and maybe they know about Saint-Just, his supporter.

And now we have two points:

Couthon didn’t get a dark legend that could attract. His function was to be the third in Triumvirate, while the ones who were usually named, acted in person and really bothered and offended thermidorians were Robespierre and Saint-Just. That deprives Couthon of his identity, so when he is finally named it’s like: Couthon in Lyon acts the way triumvirs thought was right; Couthon in Prairial suggested the Robespierre’s law.

Couthon was a deputy of Legislative Assembly, but who cares? Legislative Assembly is an approaching of the war, is the beginning of the ‘suspects’ politics, is a march to the republic, is Girondins rise and shine.

 On 5th October 1791 Couthon gave a stunning speech about why the pomp around the executive should be reduced and the king should be addressed only by “the king of French” (the decree was enacted the same meeting, repealed the next day). Moniteur

On 7th October 1791 Couthon gave a speech criticizing the priests who didn’t take a civil oath. It was the first speech of that type given in the Legislative Assembly. Moniteur And then disappears from history books until he meets Dumouriez and then until the National Convention. I can’t believe he ceased acting. But I have no time to search for his name in every issue of the Assembly period.

I don’t say no one studies him. My point is different.

When I searched for “Couthon” on Internet Archive, I got this:

With “Couthon” in a title:

On Gallica with “Couthon” in a title:

And this:

How is he usually depicted in movies? Sitting here and there in his wheelchair.

What will someone without special interest in him mostly remember about him?

Lyon mission

Prairial law

A dog

Paralytic

Member of CPS, Triumvirate

A friend of Dumouriez before his treason

Not much, and not much politics.

And that is my point: Thermidorian propaganda put a “Nothing interesting here” sign on him.

That big one, that what made me seriously think about Couthon was a biography of Vergniaud, where he acted by his own.

If anyone knows a good biography of Couthon, please, share it.

[winniefrezcomics]

can you infodump about the au pairs in your fairly normal parents au because I’m love them :>

Sure thing! Guessing u meant devs weird robo dads specifically, apologies if not lmao-

(I had…. WAY more to say about these dudes and thier role in the AU than I thought I would… 😳)

The two au-pairs (or au-fairs lol) assigned to raise and protect Dev from birth are named #C0C0C0 and #FDD700 (spoken out loud like serial numbers) or, as baby Dev nicknamed them for ease of pronunciation- “Silver” and “Gold”!

(He even started to change thier appearances to make them easier to identify and tell apart, but Dale would restore the two to their “default” color scheme whenever he noticed- a silent stand-off he and Dev had for years)

Though their robotic and monotone nature has always made it difficult for them to reciprocate affection, Dev gets to know them well enough that he can pick up subtle changes in thier voices and expressions (even through the big-aaa visors lol) as well as subtle diffences in thier personalities that are invisible to most people (silver is slightly stricter, while gold is more lenient, and emotes more frequently than his partner)

At first, these two pixie-esque little robo-servants are completely blindsided by thier new directive- NO ONE in fairy world knows how to take care of a baby, and all the data available on it is thousands of years old- but they are nothing if not loyal, so they do as Dale asks and keep the baby fed, clean, and most importantly, quiet.

(They do great with the first two, but fairy babies gonna fairy baby, so Dev is still prone to hyper-destructive magical outbursts)

(Due to Devs ability to glimpse into the future, even as an infant, the moment Dev first saw his new caretakers, he was granted a vision of the two Pixies caring for him and playing with him, so Baby Dev was quick to show them affection, much to Silver and Golds surprise and confusion. )

ENTIRE ass backstory and more doodles under the cut lmfao 😂

The first few months of raising Dev were ROUGH, and mostly just involved these two poor incompetent pixies getting thrown around by whatever magical outburst the newborn had for them that day. When first assigned, the two of them gave serious consideration to taking shifts, but Dev quickly made it clear both of them were necessary- and when Dale finally DID get fed up with the CONSTANT interruptions to his work and threaten to replace Sliver and Gold with different Au Pairs, the two pixies BEGGED for another chance, though neither of them was sure why they did so, since they had been given- objectively -the most difficult assignment of any au pairs in history.

As dev got older, he became increasingly attached to his au pairs, and as much as they tried to stay professional, Silver and Gold couldn’t help but grow incredibly attached to their little curly-haired not-son as well. The older dev got, the more honed his magic became, and the more offended he started to get by his fathers constant absence- meaning it became much more difficult for the AU pairs to keep him away from Dale (thier main purpose by this time)

Starting magic/ clairvoyance lessons helped keep dev occupied, and the AU pairs did their best to entertain him, but kid Dev became increasingly demanding of his fathers time and attention, two things Dale gave him as little of as possible.

The first time Dev disappears without a trace, Silver and Gold are MORTIFIED- they rally every other AU pair they can to help find him (I think they’re a pseudo-hivemind? Like can transfer data and frequently speak in unison but it’s more akin to a Bluetooth link than an actual single shared consciousness lmao)

Ooooonly to find out it was just the other fairy kids “abducting” him to hang out and get popsicles.

Embarrassed that they had made such a fuss and gotten the well-meaning fairy kids in trouble, the next times silver and Gold sense the children attempting to “kidnap” their friend, they develop a tendency to politely look the other way- tho of course they trail Dev in secret bc they’re still worried- eventually Hazel insists that devs “robo dads” should come hang out with them too, and neither AU pair had ever experienced “bitter-sweetness” until being called that sobs

Even into his early adulthood, silver and gold remained loyal to Dev, though he did request they do more “checking in” than “constant hovering”, as they did when he was a child. By this time, however, silver and gold’s personalities and mannerisms were NOTICEABLY unique when compared to the other AU pairs, sort of messing up the whole “perfect unison” thing the rest of thier species prides themselves on, and ostracizing them both, however mildly.

Sooo After Dev had his huge falling out with his dad and left in a huff after magically (only SORT OF accidentally) trashing his fathers office, silver and gold INSIST on being the only Au-pairs sent to retrieve him, despite Dale initially wanting to send every single one out to search and bring divination home.

When they find him, Dev has already moved into the guest bed at the wells house, and is talking to Hazel about going with her to godprenting school (something dev is not actually INTERESTED in bc he’s terrible with kids, but he HAS to get away from his dad, and Hazel had been begging him to quit his shitty fortune telling job and come with her for YEARS)

Instead of taking Dev back to his Dad as they’d been instructed, the three of them have the most difficult, honest conversation they’ve ever shared, Dev’s REAL dads finally accepted that thier little boy was all grown up, and needed to be set free.

(Hazel is how I looked drawing this tbfh)

CURRENTLY, Silver and Gold are Happily retired! Figuring they would be fired for “failing” to find and return Dev anyway, they both mutually decide to resign from servitude to the Dimmadome corporation. As the first two au pairs to EVER do so, Dale wasn’t really sure what to do w them, but with hundreds of other au pairs still serving him, he saw no reason to refuse, simply opting to strip them of thier mechanical upgrades so they weren’t at risk to “sell off the company’s tech secrets” or whatever-

Thier new forms took some serious getting used to, but modern gold and silver more or less look like regular fairies, save for their big silly cube heads and still-robotic voices lol. After the two of them learned how to love a child, the next logical step was learning to love each other. Currently, this universes equivalent of au pair 1 and 2 spend their days happily married (for tax purposes) balancing check books, doing paperwork for fun, checking in on thier son the agreed upon number of times per month, and gambling with thier retirement money (tho they frequently have to switch casinos once the staff notice the two of them are little square computers that can easily count cards lmao)

In the fairyworld equivalent of Florida, At sunset, it’s not uncommon to hear identical, robotic laughter echoing along the beach 🩶💛

To anyone who made it down here, Ty for reading! Hope u enjoyed my feral babbling 🥰

Sidenote: I can’t Beilive THESE THINGS made me fuckin well up at WORK lmaooooo, we really in the autism Hyperfocus trenches now, huh 😂😂