#with so many unrelated casualties

[fellsilver]

Prev. post was also brought on by me thinking Lael deserves to curbstomp SOMEONE, to go apeshit just ONCE, but I don't think she ever will. Oh absolutely she'll defend herself. Absolutely she's killed when the situation's called for it and will again. But, she is a not a creature of vengeance and rage. She'll never get lost in that particular sauce.

[luthienne]

"On April 4, 1967, exactly one year before his assassination, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. stepped up to the lectern at the Riverside Church in Manhattan. [...] Many of King’s strongest allies urged him to remain silent about the war or at least to soft-pedal any criticism. They knew that if he told the whole truth about the unjust and disastrous war he would be falsely labeled a Communist, suffer retaliation and severe backlash, alienate supporters and threaten the fragile progress of the civil rights movement.

King rejected all the well-meaning advice and said, 'I come to this magnificent house of worship tonight because my conscience leaves me no other choice. […] A time comes when silence is betrayal' and added, 'that time has come for us in relation to Vietnam.'

It was a lonely, moral stance. And it cost him. But it set an example of what is required of us if we are to honor our deepest values in times of crisis, even when silence would better serve our personal interests or the communities and causes we hold most dear. It’s what I think about when I go over the excuses and rationalizations that have kept me largely silent on one of the great moral challenges of our time: the crisis in Israel-Palestine.

I have not been alone. Until very recently, the entire Congress has remained mostly silent on the human rights nightmare that has unfolded in the occupied territories. Our elected representatives, who operate in a political environment where Israel's political lobby holds well-documented power, have consistently minimized and deflected criticism of the State of Israel, even as it has grown more emboldened in its occupation of Palestinian territory and adopted some practices reminiscent of apartheid in South Africa and Jim Crow segregation in the United States. [...]

Reading King’s speech at Riverside more than 50 years later, I am left with little doubt that his teachings and message require us to speak out passionately against the human rights crisis in Israel-Palestine, despite the risks and despite the complexity of the issues. King argued, when speaking of Vietnam, that even 'when the issues at hand seem as perplexing as they often do in the case of this dreadful conflict,' we must not be mesmerized by uncertainty. 'We must speak with all the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision, but we must speak.'

And so, if we are to honor King’s message and not merely the man, we must condemn Israel’s actions: unrelenting violations of international law, continued occupation of the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and Gaza, home demolitions and land confiscations. We must cry out at the treatment of Palestinians at checkpoints, the routine searches of their homes and restrictions on their movements, and the severely limited access to decent housing, schools, food, hospitals and water that many of them face.

We must not tolerate Israel’s refusal even to discuss the right of Palestinian refugees to return to their homes, as prescribed by United Nations resolutions, and we ought to question the U.S. government funds that have supported multiple hostilities and thousands of civilian casualties in Gaza, as well as the $38 billion the U.S. government has pledged in military support to Israel.

And finally, we must, with as much courage and conviction as we can muster, speak out against the system of legal discrimination that exists inside Israel, a system complete with, according to Adalah, the Legal Center for Arab Minority Rights in Israel, more than 50 laws that discriminate against Palestinians — such as the new nation-state law that says explicitly that only Jewish Israelis have the right of self-determination in Israel, ignoring the rights of the Arab minority that makes up 21 percent of the population. [...]

Indeed, King’s views may have evolved alongside many other spiritually grounded thinkers, like Rabbi Brian Walt, who has spoken publicly about the reasons that he abandoned his faith in what he viewed as political Zionism. To him, he recently explained to me, liberal Zionism meant that he believed in the creation of a Jewish state that would be a desperately needed safe haven and cultural center for Jewish people around the world, "a state that would reflect as well as honor the highest ideals of the Jewish tradition.” He said he grew up in South Africa in a family that shared those views and identified as a liberal Zionist, until his experiences in the occupied territories forever changed him.

During more than 20 visits to the West Bank and Gaza, he saw horrific human rights abuses, including Palestinian homes being bulldozed while people cried — children's toys strewn over one demolished site — and saw Palestinian lands being confiscated to make way for new illegal settlements subsidized by the Israeli government. He was forced to reckon with the reality that these demolitions, settlements and acts of violent dispossession were not rogue moves, but fully supported and enabled by the Israeli military. For him, the turning point was witnessing legalized discrimination against Palestinians — including streets for Jews only — which, he said, was worse in some ways than what he had witnessed as a boy in South Africa."

— Michelle Alexander, from her essay Time to Break the Silence on Palestine, as featured in the New York Times in 2019

[nowoyas]

Boiling Point 1: Rabbit Season - Miguel O'Hara/Reader (NSFW)

Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: hi I'm very normal about miguel o'hara. come be normal with me.

Summary: You are determined to put an end to the onslaught of your toy collection. In your quest, you set out to re-train yourself into some discipline.

Warnings: smut, vibrator use, masturbation. reader is afab and a sub.

Word count: ~3000 words

You are really starting to hate Miguel O'Hara.

Oh, sure, you’d follow him to the ends of every earth, Earth-47 notwithstanding—fuck Earth-47 and its migraine-inducing everything—and you will never thank him enough for everything he’s done, for you and all the other dimensions saved by him, directly or otherwise. He’s brilliant, he’s a genius, he’s easy on the eyes, his leadership is instrumental to holding together All of Everything, all that which you can comprehend and conceive, all that which you cannot. He does not always have all the information, but you trust him to do as much good as he can with the information he has. He is fundamentally good to a fault, and while he can be abrasive at times—perhaps more often than not—we can’t all be winners all the time.

No, your issue with him has nothing to do with any of that.

Your head is more than a little fuzzy right now, given your current circumstances, so I’ll be nice and put this in a way you can understand:

Miguel O'Hara keeps breaking your fucking sex toys.

Like I said, he’s easy on the eyes. Maybe too easy. Maybe, more than once, you’ve fought at his side and had an entirely separate fight in your head just to keep your mind on the matter at hand. Maybe, one time too many, you’ve seen his fangs flash during a flare of the temper or a slip of his guard and not quite forgotten the sight. Maybe you’ll need to be lobotomized if you want to forget that time you’d gone on a mission with him and he’d leapt directly at you, claws out, fangs bared, eyes vermilion, to tackle you out of the way of some particularly dangerous debris and stayed on top of you for a full eternity after that to make sure you were okay.

If that final image was the one seared behind your eyes as you sighed and pressed your vibe into yourself this fine afternoon, that’s between you and no one. And, in fact, it wasn’t, because you are never admitting to getting off to the general thought of your—boss?—your boss, not today or ever, under oath or the threat of death.

That being said, it had started as a bit of a coping mechanism.

He was stupid hot, and he walked towards you like you were quarry he had hunted, and the first time he’d done it, your brain had gone completely offline for a full five seconds. Getting off that night had been unrelated, you tell yourself—you didn’t think while pumping two fingers into your cunt, let alone about him, let alone when you’d added the third because you were certainly not imagining something thicker plunging into your heat. Fingers hadn’t been enough, not for a job like that, and by the time you overheard him finish a playful spat with Lyla with the words “good girl”, you’d given in and broke open the vibrator collection, a relic of a much more impulsive time, before you were fucking yourself on toys definitely not to the thought of your boss.

The first casualty had been your green rabbit vibe. It was a mainstay, and your oldest toy—a thruster, thick, good insertable length, great battery life, not so loud you struggled to get off for fear of your next-door neighbor hearing its buzz. Miguel had bitten someone during a mission that day, just held them and sunk his teeth in and set them down as they slumped, paralyzed, and wiped his mouth of the blood afterward like it wasn’t the hottest thing known to man.

Monsterfucking porn had been your saving grace. You’d turned to werewolves and tried not to overthink the image in your head when you pictured their teeth scraping your flesh, and then your old reliable rabbit vibe had made an odd noise between your writhing that tore you out of the image entirely. Seconds later, it stopped thrusting whether you wanted it to or not. When you hit the button, it made a pathetic noise like a spent lover, wriggled a moment, and went right back to motionless.

You’d groaned in frustration, pulled it out, told yourself it had just died, except it was still making that buzzing noise and the clitoral stimulator was still working fine. You pulled the third orgasm of the night out of the clit stimulator and your wrist work alone—it had been a bit better, because the ruined orgasm 2.5 had ultimately turned out to be an edge, and a name that no one would ever be able to prove was Miguel’s ghosted your lips by then. A good cleaning, a good charge, and some cooldown time, and you determined that the thruster of your poor little green rabbit would never work again.

Miguel O'Hara’s second casualty among your collection was nearly as tragic. You’d come to see him at the wrong time that day—walked in, said his name, and he’d turned to you with red eyes and actually growled at you, and holy shit, you couldn’t calm down for the next hour or the rest of the night.

Your green rabbit had been relegated to a glorified dildo and clit vibe, and as you thrashed on your bed, desperately chasing just an echo of the things that ran through your head when he growled at you, pressing the vibe into yourself as far as it would go and nearly there nearly there nearly there, it buzzed oddly and its power suddenly fell away.

You’d choked back a sob at that one. Again, you assumed it’d been a case of poor battery life, though you hadn’t charged it all that long ago. When you reluctantly pulled out the dripping vibe and saw its indicator lights flashing and flickering in the dark room, you did sob, and then, because you were still thinking about the growl in his voice and the flash of his fangs, you dragged yourself out of bed, dumped your old friend in the trash, and found your backup vibrator to finish the job.

The next casualty of your collection had been your pink vibe—she was an upgrade in every way to the green one. More speed options, rotating beads in the shaft, an attempt to imitate “tongues” on the clit, however the hell that was supposed to work, and more money to have discreetly shipped to your apartment.

This time, Miguel hadn’t even done anything in particular to catch you in his toy-breaking throes. He’d just been existing. Vibing, if you will. And your horny ass—by that point you were starting to suspect yourself some kind of nymphomaniac, and that was before casualty number three—saw him just sitting there and eating food like a normal-ass person, had some really fucking horny thoughts (first about just cooking for him, nice, domestic, sweet) (second about him pulling up the apron you’d wear for him in the first scenario and splitting you in half over the kitchen counter), and that was it for your evening post-shenanigans.

So, naturally, when you got home, you took off the bracelet, stashed it in another room, leaned over your kitchen counter, and revved up that rotating-beads-in-the-shaft thruster, pistoning it into your cunt with obscene squelches like your life depended on it. You’d kept it up, free hand clasped over your mouth, until you were forced to finish on the couch lest your legs give out, and the poor thing overheated from the strain of trying to keep up with the image you had in your head of Miguel and the thruster never moved again. Great investment, that one.

It was at this point in time that you had two options:

First, seek therapy to help you through the excruciating condition of being sex-crazed for one Miguel O'Hara.

Or, secondly, you could funnel those feelings through a surrogate and fuck someone else’s brains out so you didn’t have to think about him.

You, in all your overwhelming genius, decided that the city’s superhero could not retain the services of a therapist in any way that mattered, let alone any of the Spider-Therapists abound at HQ, and instead found your way into a myriad of fuck-buddy relationships with perfect strangers.

You found your pool of eligible fuck-buddies wanting, to say the least. You never used to be all that picky—I mean, sure, you were never exactly all that attracted to anyone before the whole Spider thing, and then you were a little too busy to worry about it, but you still probably would have slept with someone if they were decently pretty enough and nice to you—but then you tried to find someone and filtered out half of them on looks alone.

Hair too light. Too waifish. I could snap this one in half.

Some were just generally not great candidates as you swiped through: weird thoughts about domming, one whose bio mentioned how he would expect you to throw out your toys once you were “dedicated” to him (those were expensive and you’d been forced to throw out one too many already), misaligned kinks, one guy who literally said “I don’t believe in safewords” and didn’t see how that was the biggest red flag in the universe.

It took too long, once you’d settled on a few choice matches, to figure out what they all had in common beyond making profiles on a hookup app and claiming to be dominants:

They all reminded you of Miguel.

This, admittedly, did not become clear until later, when you slept with the first one for the second time and it wasn’t all that bad and while he had you blindfolded on the bed, you forgot yourself and moaned a name.

Not ‘sir’, like had been discussed in your initial meeting.

At first, you’d frozen because you’d forgotten to use his title, and that meant you were due for punishment. Then, it was because you realized the real mistake:

That hadn’t been his name you’d moaned.

You broke it off shortly after that. When the second guy went the way of the first, you gave yourself one last shot with this whole diversion idea, and that went pretty well. You lasted three whole months with this one—he was sweet, he was funny, and when it came time for you to be tied down and have your brains fucked out, he respected your hard stops and made your head fuzzy by the time he was done with you.

He bit you in the heat of the moment, and you moaned the wrong name again, and this time, you gave up on having any sort of sex life, even though he tried to be understanding of the misstep.

His teeth weren’t sharp enough to live up to who you wanted him to be, anyway.

How many casualties had Miguel O'Hara racked up in your bedroom, now? Three partners, two thrusting mechanisms, one vibrator, and now, as you sit on your knees on your bed and ride the half-defunct pink rabbit, the still-functioning vibrator buzzing in the night, you give in and admit to yourself that what you need more than anything is for him to break you in half. To chase you down, clamp his teeth on your throat, and have his way with you.

Riding this stupid toy isn’t enough. You slump face-first onto the bed, ass in the air, and try to imagine how his hand would feel on the back of your neck as you reach a hand back to pump the toy into your weeping pussy.

This, too, is not enough—you resort to full-power vibrator, nearly spasming as you try to reach the heights you need to feel satisfied tonight. And you even nearly get there, before Miguel O'Hara’s stupid everything claims its seventh casualty and the vibrator sputters out with a noise that you’ve come to associate with a profound sort of grief.

You throw the broken vibrator aside, reach for the shitty purple bullet vibe that had come as a free gift with one of your collection. In your haste and with the strength that comes with being a Spider, the fucking thing snaps in your hands. Another casualty of his. At least you didn’t pay a hundred dollars for that one.

It’s little consolation. Tears slip down your cheeks as you reach back to do the job manually, but no amount of fingering yourself or frantically rubbing at your clit is going to be enough, and fuck it, you know that by now, but that was your last toy and now there’s nothing left and his stupid pretty face is still in your head and you have to do something!

It’s no good.

Nothing you’ve tried has ever quite been good enough, and you know that.

Short of buying yourself a fucking machine, too expensive and noisy and hefty to even really consider, you’ve got nothing.

After fifteen frustrated minutes of crying and trying to bring yourself up to that climax you so desperately need, you throw yourself down fully onto the bed and actively cry into your pillow.

He’s stupid.

He’s burned through every sex toy in your collection, every vibrator and thruster, every partner you’ve tried to lay with since meeting him.

You are really, really starting to hate Miguel O'Hara.

~

Okay, so that’s one unhealthy coping mechanism lost to your complete inability to be chill. Luckily, you’re not just a sex-crazed simp for him, you’re also an adrenaline junkie, and if your substitute for all the lost sexual outlets happens to be taking some bigger risks than you normally would when caught up in some fight or another, that’s between you and the wall you went through.

Keep telling yourself it’s sustainable, and maybe you won’t have to worry about the weird look from one of the many various Peters running around or the stern look on the face of Miguel when you report back in. Which Peter? Fuck if you know. You were faceblind before joining the society comprised of 95% the same guy in different flavors. They don’t take it personally. At least you almost always get the name right.

And really, it is! It is completely sustainable! Bruises are a thing you wear with pride, and you’re beyond the worry for broken bones and serious injury by now. If anything, the dull ache in your back could be a useful grounding point to keep yourself from thinking about things you shouldn’t, a skill you probably should have been practicing well before you broke the first vibe.

Nothing you try works, of course, not when he’s standing in front of you looking an awful lot like he has something to say.

“I should head back, too,” you say when your backup Peter has moved to leave. A perfect segue to heading back to your home dimension and—

“[name]. Stay back a moment.”

He doesn’t word things like requests. You’ve learned, over time, that he is requesting, in a way, but his voice is forever just a bit too deep and rumbly for your body to interpret it as anything but an order, and god you’re useless. So much for not thinking about the things you’re trying not to think about.

You have to remember that you can’t stay here and chat, so you remember that you can’t stay here and chat, and so you turn to leave anyway. “I can’t really stay and chat—“

“That was stupid,” he interrupts.

Ah. He was watching you fight today.

He raises a single eyebrow as he studies you. (You hate his stupid face you hate his stupid face you hate—)

“You could have moved out of the way.”

You snort, brush it off. “He was just some villain of the week type. I thought it’d be cool if I could get him before he hit me.”

“You let him hit you because you thought it would be cool?”

“No, I waited too long to move the way I wanted to, because I thought it would be cool. It’s not like I really got hurt, anyway.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh, muttering something in Spanish you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I can’t decide whether you’re stupid or just need discipline.”

That is decidedly not what he said. You caught enough shreds of his muttering to know that much. And anyway, it doesn’t matter, because it takes all your willpower not to reply with discipline me yourself then, coward and you’re so focused on that thought that it clicks.

Oh.

What you need is not to get over your monumental attraction to him.

It’s discipline.

Before you fucked the life out of every vibrator you owned, you had discipline.

Before you met him, you had discipline.

It was something you’d given over to sexual partners to handle—to tell you when to masturbate, when to cum, when to pull your toys away regardless of how needy you were.

And, in the absence of any such partners between your newly exacting standards and inability to sleep with anyone without thinking of someone else, it’s once again going to have to come from you.

You meet his eyes, a new fire within you. “I’ll do better.”

He holds your haze a long moment, his expression one of those enigmas you could spend centuries trying to crack and still turn out to be wrong in the end.

He breaks it off first, turns away from you.

“Then do it. I’ll be waiting.”

You slip out of the room and clear out of the dimension.

You’ll get your discipline back if it kills you.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet

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[hisui-dreamer]

through the endless daydream (part 1)

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Synopsis: There is a rumour that there is a hidden advisor of the Draconia family, who has guided the ruler of all fae for years. They say he is the one responsible for the peace established between humans and fae. What they don’t know, is that he has been doing so for millennia, cursed by the gods to be immortal as punishment until he can be killed by his true love.

Tags: angst with fluff, domestic fluff, historical, war, bot proofread

Word count: 3.4k+

Notes: Having recently watched the kdrama goblin, I got inspired by its themes to write a fic featuring general Lilia. This ended up being way longer than I expected so it is now multi-chaptered

Part 2 �� Part 3 ✧ Masterlist

The bustling metropolis of towering, modern buildings was filled with both humans and fae. The streets were lined with vendors selling all sorts of goods, from fresh produce to magical trinkets. Fae with their pointed ears and iridescent wings are seen to be walking alongside humans, who seem to accept their presence without a second thought. The city inspires a sense of wonder and serenity, the peacefulness made by the coexistence of fae and humans. The idea that fae and humans were once sworn enemies, on opposite sides of black and white, is something that no one would ever have considered.

In a time long ago, when the world was still young, there was a war between the fae and the humans. The war had been long and brutal, going on for years as both sides suffered from immense casualties. 

Lilia Vanrouge was a trusted general of the Fae King, who led his troops to consequent victories. He was unrivalled in both physical and magical power, summoning gusts of wind that would tear groups of soldiers to shreds. He became known as the Crimson Warrior, whose name was to be whispered in hushed tones and feared by all who opposed him. His enemies feared catching sight of his dark green armour that glinted in the sun with dried blood splattered all over it, his helmet resembling a fierce boar's head, and worse of all, his cold, unrelenting eyes as he cut down enemy after enemy that dared to face him.

The Crimson Warrior made a name for himself as a fearsome general, his exploits were told in taverns and around campfires, and his name was whispered in the halls of kings having earned countless medals for his contributions to their victory. His name would forever be engraved as a leading figure in fae history.

And yet, Lilia himself couldn’t find any of his achievements valiant.

No, when he thought of the war, all he could focus on was the chaotic and gruesome battlefields. The air thick with the acrid scent of smoke, the ground trembling beneath the feet of soldiers as they clashed in violent combat. The sky was dull, desolate, filled with the piercing screams of the wounded and the deafening roar of explosions.

On both sides, soldiers fought with fierce determination, their faces twisted in agony and determination as they clashed in brutal combat. Fae soldiers flew through the air, their wings beating rapidly as they rained down magic and arrows upon the human forces below while the humans fought on the ground, wielding swords and axes with deadly precision as they charged into battle. They were well-trained and well-equipped, but they were no match for the magic and agility of the fae. Still, the humans were determined, holding their ground despite their disadvantage and innovating strategies and exploiting the weaknesses of the fae.

The battlefield was a place of great suffering and loss, a stark reminder of the horrors of war. 

He had seen too many families torn apart, too many children left orphaned, and too many lives destroyed. As the remorse continued to prick at his heart, he found himself becoming withdrawn and distant from his fellow fae, unable to find solace in the victory he had fought so hard for alongside his army. He thought about the innocent lives that had been lost, and he wondered if there was anything he could have done differently.

Subsequently, he found himself travelling across the land, seeking to make sense of everything that he had experienced, to see the world beyond where he was brought up. To avoid getting recognized, he disguised himself as a cute young child, travelling from village to village, often only staying for a short time before moving on. 

He witnessed the devastation that the war had caused, the ruins of once lively villages now burnt to the ground. He witnessed firsthand the struggles of the people who were trying to rebuild their lives, soldiers who had lost their limbs trying desperately to find new purpose in life for their loved ones. But what surprised him most, was the resilience of the human spirit. He saw people of different backgrounds coming together to rebuild communities, the kindness and love families held for one another, and the hope that they had for the future. 

Then, on a day he would forever remember, he overheard a hauntingly beautiful voice that seemed to call out to him on the borders of a village in the outskirts. He pursued the sound until he stumbled upon a curious human, weaving dozens of flower crowns while singing.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem

But if I know you, I know what you'll do

You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream..."

The serene melody seemed to penetrate his soul, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds in a storm, Lilia found himself completely enchanted. He stood there, transfixed, watching them as they sang with such beauty and grace, delicate movements weaving magnificent crowns. 

Suddenly, they stopped singing, looking around them cautiously, having noticed someone's presence. Their darting eyes stopped as they lay upon the childlike figure. Their eyes filled with curiosity as they waved their hand to beckon him forward. As if his body had a mind of its own, he started stepping closer to the human.

"Hello, there little one." They knelt down to meet his eye level, and inquired, "What are you doing out here?"

"I... just happened to stumble upon your singing, and I couldn't help but come closer to listen." He answered meekly. "You sing beautifully..." He whispered as he felt himself blushing.

A soft giggle escaped their lips as a flush danced across their cheeks. "Why thank you..." A dazzling smile spread across their face. "What's your name, little one?"

"...Lilia." He answered without thinking. Names were important for Fae, for knowing one's name would grant them power over the other, and yet, Lilia felt that he didn't mind the human having power over him.

"Lilia...", they tested his name on their lips. "What a lovely name!" They gestured to the basket next to them, full of flower crowns. "Lilia, would you like to join me ? I'm making flower crowns for the children at the orphanage."

Lilia nodded, and sat down on the field next to them. The human began patiently teaching him how to make the intricate designs that they had mastered over years of practice. At first, he struggled to get the hang of it, fumbling over the delicate petals and stems. But the human didn't give up on him, gently guiding his hands and showing him the right way to hold the flowers. With their help, Lilia slowly began to improve and started to create elegant crowns himself.

Lilia couldn't help but be in awe of the grace with which they moved, quick fingers weaving the flowers with ease as they worked side by side, idly conversing. At that moment, he felt more content than he had in years.

But fate would not Lilia have a moment of peace, as a sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing, whipping his hood back and revealing his pointed fae ears. His companion gasped in surprise and shifted backwards.

"You... you're fae," they said in a quiet voice, trembling slightly.

Lilia's heart sank at the fear and distrust that pooled in their eyes. "Pease, don't be afraid! I mean you no harm."

They hesitated for a moment, but then they looked into his scarlet eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. Slowly, they reached their hand out.

"I believe you," they said softly, their hand gently petting his head. Lilia felt himself lean into their touch. "You don't seem like the others."

Lilia felt a rush of relief and gratitude flow through him, while a small part of his consciousness wondered if they would despise his true identity.

"Thank you... I promise, I will never harm you."

The human gently placed a flower crown on his head, hiding his pointed ears perfectly. "There. Now you won't need the hood." They stared for a bit, admiring their handiwork. "Would you like to stay with me at the orphanage? There are a few spare rooms that you can stay in. It must be difficult travelling so young..."

Lilia's eyes widened in surprise at their offer. He had expected them to turn him away once they had learned of his true nature, but instead, they were offering him a home.

"Are you sure that I wouldn't be bothersome?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want to cause any trouble for you or the children."

The human shook their head, eyes determined. "You're not trouble, Lilia. You're a child, just like the others. And you deserve a safe place to live, just like they do."

With those words, Lilia once again felt the guilt of disguising himself prick at his heart. Still, he found himself wanting to stay with them, to continue to feel their warmth and kindness.

"Then, I'll be in your care." He says as he bows his head.

Lilia was grateful for the warm and welcoming atmosphere of the orphanage. He settled in quickly, helping out with chores and playing with the children, alleviating the burden on the caretaker and voluntarily taking up any laborious work that needed to be done. Occasionally, he would use his magic to help out around the orphanage, casting spells to fix broken toys or make the crops in the garden grow more plentifully. He made sure to keep his magic subtle, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself or make anyone feel uncomfortable.

As Lilia continued to spend time at the orphanage, he found himself increasingly drawn to the caretaker's warmth and compassion. He loved listening to them serenade the children night after night with lullabies that tenderly transported them to the land of dreams. He was amazed at how tirelessly they worked to take care of the children, always with a smile on their face and a kind word to offer.

Upon finishing their daily chores, they turned to Lilia and smiled. "Thank you for helping me, Lilia," they said. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Things have gone so much more smoothly since you came here."

Lilia felt a rush of gratitude wash over him. "It's my pleasure, Beastie," he replied, returning their smile, delighting in the giggle that resulted from the odd nickname that he settled on for them.

He couldn't help but feel a growing sense of attachment to the caretaker. He enjoyed their company, and found himself indulging in their smile and voice more and more with each passing day. The idea of a future with them, supporting each other and taking care of the children together settled nicely in his mind. 

It was all wishful thinking though. Deep down, he knew that his identity as the Crimson Warrior would put them in danger. Briar Valley would not look lightly upon the former general developing such a close bond with a mere human.

Despite his own reasoning, against all logic, he yearned to live a normal life with them, content in spending his life with them.

The days slowly blurred into weeks, and from weeks to months. It had been half a year since Lilia had started helping out at the orphanage. He knew that he couldn't keep his secret hidden forever, especially with his attachment to the caretaker growing stronger each day, he couldn't bear to keep lying to them. So, while they walked together through the forest to watch the sunset, he took a deep breath and decided to tell them the truth.

"Beastie," he began, stopping in his tracks. "I have to tell you something." 

They looked at him curiously, sensing the seriousness in his tone. "What is it?" They asked.

"I've been hiding something from you. I'm not a child," his voice soft and hesitant. "I..." he muttered, before taking a deep breath, "I am the Crimson Warrior, the Fae general that fought in the war against your kind."

They looked at him with surprise and confusion. "But... How...? You're so young..." They asked.

Lilia sighed as he closed his eyes and concentrated on transforming into his true form. The air around them grew colder, and a faint glow emanated from his body. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his true form, towering over his dear human. "I..." he said, now in a deeper, more mature-sounding voice. "I was afraid that if you knew the truth about me, you wouldn't accept me. And I didn't want to put you or the children in danger."

Their eyes widened in shock as they stepped back instinctively. "You... What? The Crimson Warrior... My father fought in that war..." They whispered in a trembling voice. 

Lilia's heart sank as he realised the implications of their words. "Beastie... I'm so sorry. If I had known..."

But they held up a hand to stop him. "No, Lilia. You didn't know. And I can't judge you for what you did in the past."

His heart warmed as his dear human seemed to have kindness for him even in his true identity. "I have committed terrible sins in my past, things that I wish I could reverse. But... I want to make things right. I want to help your kind, and make up for the harm that I've caused." Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at them with gratitude, "Beastie... Thank you... You were the one to help me realise my errors ..."

The human looked at him, taking in his words. They saw the pain and remorse in his eyes, and felt a sudden surge of compassion for him. "I believe you," they said softly, stepping closer to him, looking up and lifting a hand to brush away his tears. "I can see that you're not the same person you were back then. You're trying to change, and that's all that matters. We're all just trying to heal from the war. We can't change what's happened, but we can work towards a better future together."

Lilia felt a rush of relief wash over him, and he smiled at the human gratefully. "Thank you," he said, pulling them into an embrace. "Thank you for understanding."

They returned his embrace, their arms snugly wrapped around his larger frame. Savouring the warmth, Lilia pulled back slightly to see their face. Upon realising how close their faces were, the two blushed, before awkwardly pulling apart.

"Uhm... You should probably change back to your child form... It's about time we head back..." His human said bashfully.

Lilia's heart soared at their reaction, letting out a deep chuckle. "Fufu, you're right Beastie."

Upon reverting to his child form, they began walking back to the orphanage together, hand in hand.

Having discovered his true identity, the human found themselves drawn to Lilia more and more as the days went by. They couldn't help but admire the way he interacted with the children, and how patient and caring he was towards them. They noticed the way his eyes shone like rubies when he smiled, and how his voice seemed to soothe the children when they were upset.

The two had agreed for Lilia to only show his true form at night, just to be safe from anyone who might catch a glimpse of his identity. As a result, the human found themselves looking forward to the tranquil nights, as Lilia would gently serenade the children with his lullabies, his deep voice calming and enchanting.

Once the night grew late and the children finally drifted off to sleep, they would sit in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea as they readied themselves for the end of the day. The human yawned and stretched their arms, finding themselves feeling particularly exhausted. It had indeed been a hectic day, one of the children had found some paint and decided to have a little fun, only for it to end up all over the walls and furniture of the room. 

They rubbed their eyes to stay awake just a little bit longer, but it was no match for the fatigue that built up in them as they began dozing off in their chair.

Lilia noticed their struggle and without a word, lifted them carefully in his arms, their head resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his embrace. His human was startled by his sudden movement and they looked up at him. They couldn't help but stare in awe at his ethereal beauty. His pointed ears, sharp features, and the striking pools of red so alike roses were mesmerising to them.

Lilia carried them to their bedroom in the corner of the orphanage and gently laid them down on the bed, tucking them in with a blanket. His hand lingered on their cheek as he leaned in to give them a gentle kiss on their forehead.

"I love you, Beastie," he whispered softly, thinking they were already asleep.

But to his surprise, their eyes fluttered open, staring at him in shock. "What did you say?" they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

Lilia felt his heart skip a beat, realising that he had just revealed his true feelings to them. He took a deep breath and met their gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity. His expression softened as he leaned closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from their face. "I said... I love you," he repeated, his voice quiet but firm. "I know it may sound sudden, but I've been holding back my feelings for far too long. I care for you deeply, and I want to be with you."

The human's heart swelled with emotion, and they felt tears welling up in their eyes. They had grown to care for Lilia deeply over the time they spent together, and even more so after learning the truth, but they never expected him to feel the same way. They reached up and cupped his hand on their cheek, squeezing it gently.

"I love you too, Lilia," they said, their voice filled with warmth and tenderness. "I want to be with you, too."

Lilia's eyes widened in surprise, having never expected them to feel the same way about him, but hearing their confession filled him with a sense of joy he had never experienced before. Without another word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to theirs in a gentle kiss. It was the start of a new chapter in their relationship, one filled with love, trust, and a newfound sense of happiness.

As they pulled away, Lilia gazed at them with affection and admiration. "I can't promise that everything will be easy," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "but I can promise that I will always be honest with you and do my best to make you happy. I promise to always cherish you and love you with all my heart."

His beloved smiled back at him, feeling their heart overflow with happiness and contentment. "I know you will," they said, their voice filled with love. "That's all I could ever ask for."

Lilia's eyes widened in surprise, but then a smile slowly spread across his face. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to their forehead.

"Thank you, Beastie," he murmured. "Thank you for giving me hope again."

Lilia Vanrouge had found his star, his bright, brilliant star that could light up the forlorn darkness. 

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

Part 2 ✧ Part 3 ✧ Masterlist

[evidence-based-activism]

Hi! Could you possibly try to give me an estimate of how many women we’d have without misogyny related issues, including the increased life span of non married women. Like with a separatism model how many more of us would live longer or be allowed to be born (like with China)? I’m curious because I know nature also favors us in famine and bad times, and chromosome wise ours are healthier and not devolving, so I’d like to know what the actual numbers would be

Hey Anon!

This is an incredibly interesting question and I really wish I had a better answer for you. Unfortunately, I cannot find any comprehensive estimates (or really any estimates that consider more than one issue at a time). There's also a fair number of issues that don't have any estimates (most likely because the data needed to make one simply doesn't exist).

That being said, I did find some information, divided out by cause:

The "missing women" term calculates the number of women lost to pre- and post-natal sex-selection including sex-selective abortion, female infanticide, and deliberate neglect of female children. A 2020 report by the United Nations Population Fund estimated a current global estimate of 143 million missing women. As of 2015, they estimate 3.3 million newly missing women each year. [1]

Femicide refers to the murder of women or girls as a result of their sex (separate from the above point). In 2022, the UN recorded the homicide of 89,000 women and girls, of which at least 55% or ~50,000 were femicides. Combined with previous reports we can estimate approximately 50,000 annual femicides. Due measurement issues (e.g., establishing femicide when the perpetrator is unrelated) this is likely an under-count. [2-5]

Maternal mortality is primarily a result of insufficient maternal health care, and while it cannot be eliminated entirely, differences between high and low income countries indicate it can be significantly reduced with adequate women's health care. As such, the majority of the ~300,000 annual deaths associated with child birth are a likely result of misogyny. (This estimate is from 2020, down from ~450,000 in 2000.) [6]

According to global experts, misogyny plays a significant role in the many women's and girl's suicides. There is no comprehensive global estimate on the annual number of women and girls who commit suicide as a result of misogyny. In 2019, there were 235,000 female suicides, but the cause(s) of these were not identified. [7, 8]

The United Nations Security Council has recognized that "civilians, particularly women and children, account for the vast majority of those adversely affected by armed conflict". Armed conflicts are thus primarily started and perpetrated by men, but primarily affect women and children. However, there is no comprehensive global estimate on the annual number of female casualties as a result of armed conflict. [9-12]

The women's health care gap describes the vast divide between men and women in essentially every avenue of health care. It covers a multitude of issues, including but not limited to: incorrect calibration of drugs doses which can render them ineffective for women, insufficiently researched adverse effects to medication, insufficient research on female-specific or primarily-female health conditions, inadequate coverage of female people and lack of dis-aggregation of data in general research, misdiagnosis and insufficient education of female-specific symptoms for lethal conditions like heart disease, and the unknown number of advancements that could have been made if many women were not excluded from working in medicine. The gap is ubiquitous and wide, and, currently, there is no comprehensive global estimate of annual female casualties. [13-15]

Unsafe abortions result in an estimated ~70,000 annual deaths of women and girls worldwide; this is a direct result of the sociopolitical factors preventing access to safe, legal abortion and contraceptives. [16]

Female genital mutilation results in an estimated ~45,000 annual excess deaths of girls worldwide. [17]

Women are more likely to live in poverty than men, impacting their daily living conditions, access to education, access to heath care, and more. However, there is no comprehensive global estimate of annual female casualties due unequal economic conditions. [18-20]

Inequitable infrastructure and personal products are built to male default specifications, which can be deadly for women. There is no comprehensive global estimate of annual female casualties due to male-as-default standards. Some examples include: personal protective equipment, which – as an example – contributed to female health care workers' COVID-19 rates; a greater female fatality rate for car crashes; and rising occupational- and environment-associated female mortality. [13, 21-22]

Women and girls do substantially more unpaid work than men and boys, and the unpaid work they do is more likely to adversely affect their mental and physical health. There is no comprehensive global estimate of how this contributes to women's and girls' mortality. [23-25]

---

As a note, it looks like both men and women have a longer life expectancy when married as compared to unmarried, but men have an extra benefit [26-27]. For example, this review [26] modeled next-year death rates and found unmarried women had an 89% higher odds of death than married women when controlling for demographic factors which was reduced to 39% when considering both fixed and unfixed socioeconomic factors. In comparison, unmarried men had a 147% higher risk than married men when controlling for demographic factors which was reduced to 72% when considering both fixed and unfixed socioeconomic factors. As such, both married men and women had a lower odd of death than unmarried men and women, but married men had a lower-lower odds.

The one exception appears to be for marriages with an age-gap; in this situation "having a younger spouse is beneficial for men but detrimental for women, while having an older spouse is detrimental for both sexes" [28]. However, this question needs to be evaluated for more populations before this result can be considered generalizable.

Honestly, given the degree to which society is structured around married pairs, I don't find this result particularly surprising. That being said, however, this only considers differences for women who are married-to-a-man vs unmarried; it doesn't account for alternative situations like married-to-a-women vs unmarried-but-with-female-partners/roommates/social-support-network.

---

In conclusion: there is a substantial data gap concerning the effects of misogyny on women's and girls' mortality. The estimates that do exist indicate that over 4 million women and girls are lost to misogyny every year. Given that this accounts for only five of the eleven categories I identified (and I may have missed some categories!) this is most likely a significant under-count.

I hope this helps you anon!

References under the cut:

Erken, A. (2020). State of World population 2020: defying the practices that harm women and girls and undermine equality. UNFPA.

Global estimates of female intimate partner/family-related homicides in 2022 (Gender-Related Killings Of Women And Girls (Femicide/Feminicide)). (2023). United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime.

Global estimates of gender-related killings of women and girls in the private sphere in 2021 (Gender-Related Killings Of Women And Girls (Femicide/Feminicide)). (2022). United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime.

Killings of women and girls by their intimate partner or other family members: Global estimates 2020. (2021). United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime.

Global Study on Homicide: Gender-related killing of women and girls 2019. (2020). United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime.

Trends in maternal mortality 2000 to 2020: estimates by WHO, UNICEF, UNFPA, World Bank Group andUNDESA/Population Division. Geneva: World Health Organization; 2023. Licence: CC BY-NC-SA 3.0 IGO.

Harris, J. (2015, May 28). Worldwide sexism increases suicide risk in young women. The Guardian. Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20231019084332/https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/may/28/worldwide-sexism-increases-suicide-risk-in-young-women.

Ilic M, Ilic I. Worldwide suicide mortality trends (2000-2019): A joinpoint regression analysis. World J Psychiatry. 2022 Aug 19;12(8):1044-1060. doi: 10.5498/wjp.v12.i8.1044. PMID: 36158305; PMCID: PMC9476842.

United Nations Security Council. (2008). Resolution 1820 (2008). United Nations. Retrieved December 17, 2023, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20231217190221/https://www.un.org/shestandsforpeace/sites/www.un.org.shestandsforpeace/files/unscr_1820_2008_on_wps_english.pdf

United Nations Security Council. (200). Resolution 1325 (2000). United Nations. Retrieved August 14, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240814162228/https://documents.un.org/doc/undoc/gen/n00/720/18/pdf/n0072018.pdf

Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. (2002). World: Women, Children Are the Victims Of Most Modern-Day Wars. Retrieved February 25, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240225164704/https://www.rferl.org/a/1099590.html

Bendavid, E., Boerma, T., Akseer, N., Langer, A., Malembaka, E. B., Okiro, E. A., ... & Wise, P. (2021). The effects of armed conflict on the health of women and children. The Lancet, 397(10273), 522-532.

Perez, C. C. (2019). Invisible women: Data bias in a world designed for men. Abrams.

McKinsey & Company. (2024.). Closing the women’s health gap: A $1 trillion opportunity to improve lives and economies. Retrieved August 9, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240809052346/https://www.mckinsey.com/mhi/our-insights/closing-the-womens-health-gap-a-1-trillion-dollar-opportunity-to-improve-lives-and-economies

Nature. (2023). Women’s health research lacks funding – these charts show how. Nature. Retrieved June 30, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240630210427/https://www.nature.com/immersive/d41586-023-01475-2/index.html

Haddad, L. B., & Nour, N. M. (2009). Unsafe abortion: unnecessary maternal mortality. Reviews in obstetrics and gynecology, 2(2), 122.

Ghosh, A., Flowe, H., & Rockey, J. (2023). Estimating excess mortality due to female genital mutilation. Scientific Reports, 13(1), 13328.

UN Women. (2022). Poverty deepens for women and girls according to latest projections. Retrieved July 31, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240731052756/https://data.unwomen.org/features/poverty-deepens-women-and-girls-according-latest-projections

SDG Action. (2023). Poverty is not gender neutral. Retrieved July 2, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240702144109/https://sdg-action.org/poverty-is-not-gender-neutral/

Oxfam. (n.d.). Why the majority of the world’s poor are women. Retrieved June 10, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240610145451/https://www.oxfam.org/en/why-majority-worlds-poor-are-women

BMJ. (2021, March 9). Personal protective equipment is sexist. Retrieved February 22, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240222065254/https://blogs.bmj.com/bmj/2021/03/09/personal-protective-equipment-is-sexist/

The Guardian. (2019, February 23). The truth about a world built for men: Car crashes. Archived at August 4, 2024, from https://web.archive.org/web/20240804054528/https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2019/feb/23/truth-world-built-for-men-car-crashes

Cramer, M. (2022, September 30). The mental health toll of unpaid labor. The New York Times. Archived at August 8, 2024, from https://web.archive.org/web/20240808055830/https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/30/upshot/women-mental-health-labor.html

Klein, E. (2020, January 23). The hidden work of unpaid labor. The New York Times. Archived at March 29, 2024, from https://web.archive.org/web/20240329085703/https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/23/us/unpaid-work-economy-davos.html

UNICEF. (2023). Gender norms and unpaid work. Retrieved January 13, 2024, Archived at https://web.archive.org/web/20240113082306/https://data.unicef.org/topic/gender/gender-norms-and-unpaid-work/

Rendall, M. S., Weden, M. M., Favreault, M. M., & Waldron, H. (2011). The protective effect of marriage for survival: a review and update. Demography, 48(2), 481-506.

Leung, C. Y., Huang, H. L., Abe, S. K., Saito, E., Islam, M. R., Rahman, M. S., ... & Inoue, M. (2022). Association of marital status with total and cause-specific mortality in Asia. JAMA network open, 5(5), e2214181-e2214181.

Drefahl, S. (2010). How does the age gap between partners affect their survival?. Demography, 47(2), 313-326.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Stranger Things

Where the 20 Chain Links Lead by fandsart

Steve has always known he’s stupid. While it wasn’t exactly something he took pride in, it hadn’t really ever bothered him until he started socializing with what could probably be described as some of the smartest people in Hawkins. It doesn’t help that most of those people were so much younger than him.

A character study of one Steve Harrington, and a glacial slowburn Steddie fix-it fic

chat with you, baby (flirt a little, maybe) by desiccatedwithering (acornsofthemind) (+ podfic)

"Hey, shitheads!” Steve “the hair” Harrington barks, looming in the doorway like a monster from the Abyss. “What the fuck are you doing in here? Get your asses down to the gym right fucking now.”

Eddie gapes. First of all, the audacity— Second, he’s never been much for physical fights, but if this douchebag thinks he can bully any of Eddie’s kids, he’ll have to go through Eddie first.

“Let’s go! Move it!” Harrington snaps, making an impatient gesture down the hall.

SVSSS

Achievement Unlocked by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

One day, after five years of reasonably peaceful marriage with only a few kidnappings and sex pollen incidents, Shen Yuan is sent back to his old body without warning. Luo Binghe makes a deal with an alien entity calling itself the System to perform a mission in exchange for the ability to bring his husband home.

The mission is simple; [Uncover secret transmigrator plotline and flesh out the character wiki!]

At least it will be once he figures out what the words ‘transmigrator’ and ‘wiki’ mean.

Or: That one where Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe don’t realize they’re in a domestic fluff bonus chapter.

Written for the 2021 MXTX Big Bang with art created by Ataratah

The Witcher

The Footsteps We Follow by thiswildheart

Look, Jaskier's got a lot going on. He's painfully aware that there are cataclysmic events happening and that the troubled teenager he knows might save the world or speed along the end of days. He's also in love with a man who's never even admitted that they're friends, which is almost as bad.

Oh, and he's still working as the Sandpiper, only now a terrifying eldritch creature has entrusted him with the Song of the Seven to give hope to the elves and help them fight back against their oppression. It's probably the bravest thing he's ever done, but not everyone sees it that way.

Luckily he knows some people who excel at last minute rescues.

... then he just has to figure out how to tell Geralt why so many people are trying to kill him. This is going to go great.

Clone Wars

Every Shadow by Kenobster (kenobster)

The days on Kadavo were long, but the nights moved quickly. Hundreds of pairs of wide, sleepless eyes haunted the space of the holding cells. Droves of terror clogged the heavy, sweaty air, and every sound, however faint, was like a physical ripple across the crowd. Every sound. The jingling of keys, the clicking of locks, the thudding of boots, and that’s how the nights on Kadavo started—with a gradual increase in the degree of quiet.

OR—during the mass casualty event following Kadavo and Zygerria, Obi-Wan and Anakin seek ways to cope with trauma.

Shadowhunters

We All Want (to Change the World) by opalish

It starts with Simon, which explains why the entire process is such an unrelenting headache.

or, Alec's startlingly quick journey from Head of the New York Institute to Inquisitor.

[ihatesocialmedia45]

Chapter 6: Psycho Killer

Gm! Here is Chapter 6!

Sage sat in bed, the live feed from the woman from the Expo's apartment serving as the only source of light in her room. She'd found her almost instantly, enhancing that now-infamous still image to capture her face, then tracking her down from there. Sage ticked off the facts in her head. She wasn't a Supe. She worked in a nondescript little office, had a few friends but mostly kept to herself. She didn't come from money, or have any connections that could benefit Homelander... she was, for all intents and purposes, a nobody. A nobody, who, somehow, had Homelander sequestered away from the rest of the world since 10am - and in her apartment since 7pm, she thought, gears turning in her mind. The shock of movement from the window made her squint her eyes, then widen them in shock; Homelander was letting the woman hold something to his face, and then - Sage gasped, dropping the phone before scrambling to catch it - leaning in to kiss her, letting her press him into the couch. Sage's jaw dropped.

The way they moved... it was all so fluid, so natural. The thought sprang to her mind: How long had this been going on? The inherent ease with which they embraced suggested familiarity, intimate knowledge of one another... but Sage had taken to tracking Homelander's mental decline months ago, after an outburst at a dinner that led to around 50 casualties. She'd simply never seen the woman before this. 

A notification popped up on her phone - Maeve. Sage groaned, not bothering to read it. After their lunch meeting (Sage refused to call it a date), they'd gone bar hopping, starting down 1st and Parker, then travelling down the block until they were too lightheaded with alcohol-induced laughter and the buzz of too many cocktails to stand upright, calling Noir to drive them home and laughing at the imagined annoyance in his face.

They'd started kissing five minutes into the drive, she recalled, face heating and brow furrowing. Sage groaned, slapping a hand to her face. Maeve had been telling her just how much she'd enjoyed finally going out with someone else for a change, and Sage had agreed, looking up at her...

She tasted like whiskey, with the sweet undercurrent of a maraschino cherry, tender and tantalizing, coated in all that thick, viscous syrup. Sage sighed.

Maeve kissed like...  a lover, like Sage was her lover, like she desperately wanted her to be. She remembered the moment she realized it; Maeve had brushed her hair from her face, looking down into her with those big, sad eyes... and she felt something she'd rarely experienced before that moment: Fear. Pure, unrelenting fucking terror.

She couldn't lose the fight - couldn't admit defeat. So she'd grabbed her by the hair, not letting an inch of her skin go untouched, leading Maeve into a backward-stepped march into her bedroom, the darkness enveloping them when she shut the door.

Maeve had sat on her bed, legs splayed, blush creeping up her face, and, Sage could see due to the dress she'd worn, down to her chest. She'd pulled Sage on top of her, the smooth undulation of her hips so achingly sweet that she felt the stirrings of nausea slowly start to twirl in her gut. 

She couldn't lose. Couldn't admit. Sage squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the memory away.

"Wait," Sage had moaned. She'd pulled herself off of her, reached for the nightstand - Maeve had taken the opportunity to mouth at her breast, her mouth like rose petals.

She'd pulled out the lobotomy wand, its sinister glint reflecting across Maeve's flushed face. She looked up at Sage, not comprehending. "What's this?" she'd asked.

Now Sage had abandoned the phone entirely, in favor of covering her head with the comforter. The phone buzzed again - another notification. 

She'd asked Maeve to use the wand on her - to jab it in her eye, wriggle until the felt her brain come apart. It was supposed to scare her. It was supposed to say, "Walk away from me." But Maeve hadn't walked; she hadn't flinched. Maeve descended into the depths of that depravity for her, called her bluff, without a hint of disgust in her eyes.

She saw the look she did give her, though - not of horror or shock... but of deep sadness, and worse - understanding.

But she couldn't lose - and so she'd fucked her, and sent her off after, in the middle of the night.

Maeve sat in the closet of her bedroom, head between her knees, the faint glow of her phone lighting up the otherwise dark space. After she'd thrown her out of her bed, Maeve had stood there for a second, lips parted in shock, before marching resolutely to her room, stomach in knots - and vomiting soon after. She stared into the screen, eyes glinting with hot tears, the words she'd typed shaking in her hand. 

I'm sorry

Can we... talk?

Sage hadn't replied.

Homelander wasn't at the meeting, Deep noted with a mix of surprise, worry, and relief. He'd joked with A-Train that he'd finally win their bet of Homelander being late at least once this year, but A-Train had scoffed. "You're dreaming, man. It's not gonna happen. Find someone else to finance your octopus girlfriend's calamari diet." But 9:30 came and went, and there was no sign of their leader -and so A-Train would be paying after all, Deep thought, satisfied. A-Train brushed him off.

But, really... where was he?

Starlight spoke up, voice tentative. "Should we... wait a few more minutes? Maybe take 10?" 

Ashley nodded, sighing in relief. "Good idea. Everybody - take ten!" The Seven rose from their seats, filing out, all except Noir, who had taken a nap during the wait, and slept peacefully, his quiet snore echoing throughout the room.

Homelander wasn't here, Sage wasn't here, Maeve wasn't here... that last one wasn't too surprising, but the three empty chairs still unnerved Kevin. He slipped from the room quickly, and into his quarters, where, as he walked past the window, he saw a flash of red and white. Not in the air... on the ground - in a chair, specifically. 

Homelander was... eating a donut? With a woman?! Deep did a double-take, rubbed his eyes, but the image was clear as day. Homelander was... on some sort of date, it seemed. And the girl... who was she? The way he looked at her... she couldn't be a fling. Maybe a secret wife? Deep didn't recognize her, but Homelander certainly did; he held her hand, took a sip of her coffee... and, to Deep's wide-eyed shock, pecked her on the cheek, before rising to his full height, preparing to leave... and looking Deep straight in the eye.

Terror.

Deep held still; it would do no good to hide, now that he'd been caught. Instead, he gave a timid little wave, praying to any god out there that Homelander would see his submission for what it was, half preparing for the consequences if he didn't. But, miracle of miracles, Homelander didn't hover to his window and laser him in half. He instead gave a curt eye roll, before walking, not flying, to the steps of the building. Deep let out a shaky sigh, spinning on his heel to return to the meeting.

Ashley re-organized the spread she'd had her assistant do before the meeting, face drawn tight. If you want something done right... she thought, irritated. She'd spent the last ten minutes telling her off, which had helped, but then Homelander had decided to go AWOL. That had triggered her migraine.

As she re-arranged and shifted the flowers and cards, she heard the shuffling sound of footsteps, and turned to meet Deep's wide-eyed gaze. Oh, no. This was the look he'd reserved for when he'd done something unbelievably stupid - like buying alcohol for an underage influencer on a livestream, or committing biological warfare by releasing 100 pounds of frog spawn into the the wishing fountain downtown ('But my wish was to for the fountain to be filled with frogs!' he'd defended himself earnestly)  Ashley pinched her nose between her index finger and her thumb, eyes screwed shut.

"What. Deep." Deep flinched. "I didn't even do anything!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. He closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, cupping his hand to her ear and muttering urgently, too fast for her to shut out the flow of unwanted information.

"I saw Homelander kissing some lady. He was on a date."

Ashley abruptly shoved him off of her, horror and anger rolling across her face. "And so your first thought was to make me culpable?! You asshole!"  Ashley hissed out her rage, eyes harried. This was bad. She leaned in. "Where?" she asked despite herself. "The coffeeshop next door."

Ashley looked like she was on the verge of asking more, when the doors of the meeting room swept open, and the Seven filed in, each taking their seats, save for Sage and Maeve. Deep made to take his seat, Ashleys eyes communicating that the conversation wasn't over... when the sound of boots - and another pair of feet -rang through the hall, growing closer. Everyone in the Seven turned, the room stilling to a hush. Ashley worried her lip.

The door swung open, and in Homelander stepped - flanked by her. The woman from the coffeeshop. Ashley's eyes widened, then shot toward Deep's for a fraction of a second. 

"Morning, everyone!" Homelander said cheerily, sitting at his spot, and, to the shock of the Seven, wrapping his arm around the woman's waist and leaning into her awaiting kiss. She delivered a chaste peck to his cheek, then shyly waved as Homelander introduced her.

"You'll be seeing more of her from now on - I just thought now was the time you meet her." 

Starlight's eyes widened as the woman gave her name, told everyone it was nice to meet them, then scampered off like a deer in the forest. The room was silent, save for the sound of the door as she left, Homelander smiling after her.

"So," Homelander said, looking around the room, eyes bright, "What's on the docket today? Saves? Any events?" 

Stan Edgar watched in the Security Vault as the woman left Vought, with a curious gleam in his eye. So, this was the girl Sage had been so worried about, he mused, looking over the files he'd requested on her. Medical records. Employment records. Her digital footprint. A worn print of her birth certificate - the original, that her mother lost years ago... the list was endless, resulting in a formidable stack of papers that nearly brushed his nose when he walked by. He'd been thumbing through this journey through her life, categorizing the information in his mind, storing it away.

A 2 year stint in a psychiatric ward after one too many suicide attempts. Photos of her on picture day, leaked from her schools' databases. Her social security number, written in black marker on the inside of his arm. An array of school records, utility bills - she'd been all over the country before she'd even turned 18. Deeply unstable, profoundly lonely, and desperate for connection. 

This would not bode well. This would not bode well, at all. Stan pursed his lips, a flicker of pity crossing his face as he picked up one of her journals, dog-eared and yellowed. This one picked up where the last one, lost to time, had left off, on a particularly troubling note - the first time she'd missed a Homelander hosted event, ten years ago. He read it again, though the words had already been metabolized into his brain.

2/14/14- ...I can't believe they made him host the Valentine's Day Parade, after Maeve had broken up with him. How heartless... it's like they hate him - like they really, truly hate him. I cried watching that - he'd smiled, waved, flew in the air and made hearts with the skywriting planes, made the sky rain roses. But it wasn't enough for them. It's never enough for them.

Everyone got a rose - except for him. They made him go backstage as everyone kissed, probably to brief him on the next event they were making him host. Vought, the fans... The Seven... they're all so greedy with his time. So ungrateful for it. It makes me sick... I hate my boss for making me missing this event; he was practically on the ground with the rest of the crowd. I could have seen him. I could have touched him... I was busy at work, so I couldn't go - but never again. He is worth so much more than any money I could make. I would burn every dollar in the world for him. I would turn the world to ash, lay him down and kiss him atop their bodies.

Homelander... wherever you are. I will never put ANYTHING before you. Never.

I can't find any records of his human identity. No first name. No last name. Did Vought... kidnap him? Is he some CEO's son? He moves through these events with a practiced grace - but of course he does. He's Homelander. He has to. But I can't help but think... what if he'd be happier in a house? What if he doesn't want the crowds? What if he wants someone to play with his hair, kiss his brow, spoon-feed him chicken noodle?

I would spoon-feed you chicken noodle, Homelander <3 I would kiss it into you mouth, and lick the broth from your lips. Homelander... Homelander... Homelander... Homelander. His name is like ambrosia on my tongue. If I could, I wouldn't drink anything else.

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

A movie you put on to cry to?

How about 3?

"A Dog's Way Home" isn't really part of the other two movies, although it's adapted from a story by the same author as the Bailey Duology.

"A Dog's Way Home" is about a pitbull-mix, Bella, who is separated from her family during an attempt to relocate themselves to keep her out of jurisdiction of the "No Pitbulls" law of the town, which is not displayed in the trailer here.

In fact, the trailer only shows about 40% of the actual plot, and the way she gets into her journey is not shown here, nor is the the way she actually gets back home, both scenes implied in the trailer are actually part of an unrelated shinanagan with the squirrel, lol.

Bella is somewhat of an emotional support dog that is beloved by Lucas' mom and her fellow veterans at the hospital, which is part of why the conflict begins, because an animal control guy wants her out of town because of his prejudice against Stafford Terriers, which is honestly a very real thing that happens in many places. Along the journey, Bella makes many friends along the way, including an orphaned puma cub that she mistakes for a "Big Kitten" ((Bella's origin is that she was fostered by a "Mama Cat", and equates cats to family)). She also saves a guy in an avalanche, brings peace of mind to an old homeless man, and so on as she runs across the country to find her Lucas and Mom. It's a very wholesome story, and Scarlett Johansson's narration is really nice ((no talking animals in the movie, the narration is like how they did in "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron"))

"A Dog's Purpose" and "A Dog's Journey" tells the tale of Bailey, a special dog that's been granted the ability to live multiple lives, after having come back the first time as a puppy in a hot car.

He keeps reincarnating as he tries to reunite with his boy, Ethan. Along the way, Bailey lives other lives and touches the hearts of others in need ((such as an officer with PTSD, a college student in need of a friend, or a woman in an abusive relationship who needs to drive to escape)), until he finds Ethan again in his old age, having become a bit of a recluse due to a rough life and rotten luck. Because of certain quirks Bailey had in his second life, leading Ethan to realize that this strange dog that's found his way to his porch is his childhood dog come back. Thanks to Bailey, Ethan is able to reconnect with people and is able to life to the fullest again.

Part two of the story picks up with Bailey settled in as Ethan is now married and watching over his step-granddaughter, CJ. Due to a chain of events, CJ and her mother leave the old farmhouse and it kickstarts a new purpose for Bailey as he succumbs to old age and cancer shortly after, coming back again as a puppy about the time CJ is of school age.

He gets adopted by her as the dog "Molly" and is able to stay with her until a tragic accident ((CJ's crazy ex runs them off the road and Bailey is a casualty)) takes Bailey's life again and he comes back as another dog, crossing paths with CJ again briefly before dying of a broken heart when she doesn't recognize him. He comes back again as a dog in New York years later, and hears her from the sound her charm bracelet makes and runs off from the adoption event to reunite, with her just thinking that this is a silly little scruffy dog that chose her as his new owner.

It doesn't take long for Bailey, now as "Max" to start giving off quirks that she finds strange and confusing, until she is finally able to visit her grandfather, Ethan and he's able to give her the scoop on what makes this dog so special. The story ends with the family finally being reunited one last time before Ethan's passing and Bailey follows him shortly after to join him across the Rainbow Bridge to be together in the afterlife.

There's A LOT more in the store I glossed over that is worth seeing despite my extensive summary, such as a few side plots and additional backstory for Bailey, but you just gotta watch them yourself and see. And yes, YOU WILL CRY.

[tavina-writes]

due to the Zhuge Liang post I am now suddenly bowled over by the re-remembering that Cao Cao once killed so many people that he clogged a whole ass river. AND YET! despite being a real ass historical person who committed real ass historical atrocities he is widely considered a historical blorbo of more people than you can ever possibly imagine. (He's also one of my historical blorbos but anyway.)

tldr: Cao Cao kills so many bystanders in this province that their corpses clogged the local river because this one guy may have murdered his dad. He did TWO invasions and multiple massacres for this. This was not the extent of Cao Cao's varying atrocities. 😌

anyone who says that NHS's attempts at vengeance had too many unrelated casualties and bystander damage can pack up and go home. 😌

[musabvisuals]

Whispers of the Olive Tree

Underneath the gray, overcast sky, Nour stood on the balcony of her small home, overlooking the valley where olive trees swayed gently in the wind. It had been a long time since she had felt the peace these hills once gave her. The olive trees, resilient as they were, bore witness to her childhood, her laughter, her family’s gatherings, and now to something much darker—an unrelenting siege on her soul and her people.

Nour, in her late twenties, had grown accustomed to the sounds of war. Drones buzzed like distant insects, their low hum mingling with the distant rumble of explosions. The checkpoints that had once been a nuisance now felt like walls closing in, suffocating her every movement. Still, she clung to the remnants of normalcy—her mother’s soft hum as she prepared bread, the smell of cardamom-infused coffee, and the long walks to the local market when the roads were open.

But these days, Nour had begun to notice a deeper ache. It wasn't just the war. It was something more insidious, something that wrapped around her like a cold shroud—the apathy, the indifference of the world around her. News of airstrikes, destroyed homes, and dead civilians would make headlines for a moment, and then the world would turn its gaze elsewhere. It was as if her pain, her people’s suffering, had become too commonplace for anyone to care about.

"I'm terrified at the moral apathy, the death of the heart," she had said to her friend Lina just days ago as they walked through the market, now half-empty, its vendors fearful of staying too long. "Do they not see us as human anymore? Do they even notice our lives?"

Lina had nodded, her eyes downcast. "I don’t know, Nour. It feels like we’ve become ghosts in their eyes, something far away, too distant to matter."

Nour thought of the news channels she watched in the evenings, the detached commentators discussing casualties like numbers on a ledger, the politicians making promises they would never keep. The world seemed to move on, but here in her village, time stood still.

The night that followed was one she would not forget. Nour lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the deep silence between the occasional thuds of distant bombs. Her mother was asleep in the next room, her father long gone—a casualty of another raid, another war.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently. Nour jumped out of bed as the windows rattled. She could hear shouting from the street, her neighbors rushing outside in confusion. Without thinking, she grabbed a scarf and ran out. The air was thick with smoke, dust swirling under the streetlights.

A missile had struck the neighborhood just a few streets away. Flames licked the sky, and the distant wails of mothers looking for their children filled the air. Nour stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. How many times had she seen this? How many lives had been reduced to rubble in a single moment?

And yet, what frightened her most wasn’t the explosion, or the chaos, or even the destruction. It was the cold realization that this would be forgotten by morning. The world would see another headline, maybe share a post or two, and then move on with their lives. Her people’s suffering, her suffering, had become just another part of the background noise of global indifference.

She felt a tear slip down her cheek. It wasn’t just sadness, it was anger—an anger so deep that it threatened to consume her. Not at the men behind the drones, or the soldiers at the checkpoints, but at the world for allowing this to happen, for watching and doing nothing.

As the flames were finally doused, and the cries faded into the night, Nour sat by the olive tree in her courtyard. She touched the bark, rough under her fingers, and remembered the stories her father used to tell her. "These trees," he had said, "they’ve survived hundreds of years. Empires rise and fall, but the olive tree stands tall. So will we, Nour."

But as she sat there, under the weight of the night’s events, she wondered if even the olive trees could survive this—a world that had stopped caring, a world that had lost its heart.

She looked up at the sky, at the stars barely visible through the haze, and whispered, "I’m terrified at the moral apathy, the death of the heart."

And though no one else could hear, the wind carried her words, weaving through the branches of the olive trees, a reminder that even when the world turns its back, the land, the trees, and the people still bear witness. They still endure.

Reason behind this Concept art / Причина этого концепт-арта

I saw the video on instagram of palestine child dead had a profound impact on me. Art serves as a way for me to channel these emotions, especially after experiencing something so distressing. The unfinished state of my concept art reflects just how heavy this experience feels. I understand that it’s okay to take my time—sometimes, emotions need to settle before I can translate them into something creative. When I’m ready, I know the piece will come together. I’m allowing these feelings to linger, as they may ultimately inspire a more powerful and authentic expression.

[beevean]

"Crusher, how is Stellar!Eggman so evil?" "Every time someone tells me Sonic would take an unrelated villain from a different franchise more seriously, he does ONE push up (on orphans)."

I'm sorry that people took my answer about Sonic meeting Weil as an excuse to downplay Eggman in your inbox :\ I knew it would happen.

Honestly, while as a joke it's fine, I think comparing villains from different media is kind of dumb because every story has its own scope. "Oh Eggman is nowhere near as evil as Griffith from Berserk!" no shit? You are comparing apples and oranges?? Eggman is also much more evil than Dahlia Hawthorne from Ace Attorney, but Dahlia is scary in her own setting! This is also why I hate playing power scaling, the factors are rarely equivalent!

(what follows is not directed at you, but I'll try to clarify what I said last time)

In the case of Eggman and Weil, the settings of Sonic and Mega Man Zero are not too dissimilar, but they're still not quite the same. MMZ is deliberately dark and gritty, moreso than Sonic is even in its own darkest games. Weil is designed to be as, well, vile as possible (Vile is his Japanese name for a reason). The closest Sonic villain I can compare Weil to is Black Doom, except with a better design and some sick boss battles lol. But his whole idea is that he's a human and yet more inhuman than the Reploids he looks down to... something that, I think, Sonic isn't used to. His foes are usually non-human, with the one obvious exception. And Merlina, and will you look at that, she was by far the most sympathetic enemy he defeated.

(blah blah eggman nega who gives a shit about eggman nega. he's more of blaze's foe anyway)

Admittedly, MMZ rotates around the discrimination of Reploids at the hands of humans, while in Sonic this factor is missing, but still, Weil is fucking creepy in all aspects.

So if I'm asked "how would Sonic react to a human being who got so consumed by hatred that he decided to destroy the world out of sheer spite, and didn't have the same tragic backstory as Gerald no he's just rotten to the core", my answer is "he'd be horrified because that's not the kind of enemy he usually faces". This doesn't mean Eggman is suddenly a soft babyboy. Eggman is his own villain with his own modus operandi, and he's motivated by selfish narcissism. Basically, if Weil would fire the Eclipse Cannon on the Earth to hurt as many people as possible, Eggman fired it on the moon to showcase his power, threaten humanity into submission, and who cares about the eventual casualties :)

And "Sonic is used to him" is just... facts. Eggman is Sonic's archnemesis. They know each other. That's all it means.

[which-hospital]

Aftershock (06/01/24)

I submitted my final essay for last semester a couple days ago and I finally feel free. If anyone has been paying attention to my real life notes at the start of posts, you’ll have noticed that I’ve been stressing about but not writing my essays for over a month now. Things are suddenly so peaceful. I have learnt nothing about not procrastinating. 

This was supposed to be a normal episode review for last week but devolved into all my Casualty thoughts from the past couple days so like, spoilers for this week and next week at the end and a bit of rambling in the middle. I’m at a weird place with Casualty right now because we’re inching towards me just ignoring canon and pretending that what should’ve happened is happening instead. 

Part 1 - Episode Thoughts:

Goodbye Ryan. Who can say why they gave you and told us your backstory? As he’s leaving he tells them not to forget him and it’s like……..this is Casualty?? The moment you walk out that door, you were never here in the first place. I don’t feel incredibly caught up about him leaving, he was problematic but he was free and I suppose I have to give him that. 

Hello Ngozi. Basically all opposites here: I can’t wait to learn more about her, I will never forget her, I love her, she is perfect and can do no wrong. No thoughts, head empty, just Ngozi. She’s so !!!!! <3 She seems lovely, I’ve been missing ‘lovely from their intro’ characters. I think she has more experience than the others which is interesting too. 

Charlie is a lot more interesting right now than he has been in the whole time I’ve ever watched Casualty. I thought it was because I’ve been watching series 1 (special interest fuel but not as distracting as rewatching recent episodes so I can do other stuff while it’s on) and he’s more interesting in that because they had to actually write a character and couldn’t get away with just dragging him on screen and going “it’s Charlie bros, like if you agree”. But his scene with Ryan was as boring as ever so I think it’s just the influence of Stevie. 

[On the largely unrelated note of old Casualty: it’s super interesting how many of the current plot points and stuff that’s happening in A History of Violence also happened in series 1. Early Casualty has the issue of staff being attacked but no one wants the police around and I’m wondering if this current storyline will be as overtly anti-police as series 1 was. Also, spoilers for this week but the paramedics feel like the new measures haven’t considered them at all, and series 1 Casualty has an episode where the paramedics aren’t included in a meeting and one of them (PLAYED BY ROBERT PUGH AKA GETHIN) feels like the paramedics aren’t being treated like the rest of the staff.]

Faith Stuff™. I am still not interested, please end this Mr BBC. 

Part 2 - Mostly Episode Relevant Teddy Thoughts:

Objectively: It was an episode. He got with Jodie, which probably isn’t that out there. It sure happened.

Subjectively, the good: “Cutting me out of it like that, it shows what she thinks of me” is a great line for exactly what I think is the real issue Teddy has with Jan right now. The wedding is off and Paige acknowledged the issues in their relationship, which is about time. Teddy and Paige were cute in that episode where Teddy is stressing about asking her out but probably doomed from the start. The problems I think they both bring to a relationship aren’t incredibly compatible problems, it was only a matter of time before things started to implode (IF SAH WAS THERE, THOUGH…). I really, really liked how surprised Teddy seems to be that Paige isn’t happy that he only asked her to marry him because Gethin told him to. Yeah, he would be surprised. So many things in his life, if you really think about it, come back to his family (“it’s why I became a paramedic”) to the point that I do think he wouldn't get why it would weird someone out. I also liked that Paige and Sah really don't get how he’s feeling at all, I think what he’s feeling is very specific and different than typical grief and it’s not their fault they can’t really figure out what’s up there because I don’t think he knows either.

Subjectively, the bad: but I didn’t like that ~Jodie understands it~ or whatever. Why? Because her mum died? Well Casualty, I regret to inform you of your own writing, but so did Paige’s mum. Not even as a backstory thing, as a plot thing. I won’t ever be happy about this because I’m ride or die for Sah/Teddy/Paige now, they’re the only thing that could make me happy. Even with just Sah/Teddy it’s like, I wouldn’t actually want them together despite how much I talk about them. They’re my two bros chilling in an ambulance, five feet apart because they have unresolved issues. The Sah and Teddy scene was a let down but whatever (thinly veiled annoyance). Generally, as I said before, it feels like this episode brushed past some interesting ideas but just failed to go there and didn’t let any of the ideas it established sit before having Teddy cheat on Paige (I’m counting it as cheating cause I can). 

Subjectively, the overanalysis: firstly, there’s pacing problems. I think the fact that they didn’t spend enough time developing Teddy’s feelings really didn’t help his part of this episode. One episode exploring Teddy’s feelings about it all, developing that a little, looking into what’s going on underneath and how no one really understands it. Let it rest a bit. Another one for the impact on his relationships, he (ugh) gets with Jodie. I still wouldn’t love it but I think it would feel better developed. Secondly, I just think they underuse the best parts of Teddy to focus on the dramatic parts. They have him do things that aren’t theoretically OOC but are just the most extreme thing he could do and it’s a waste. And they focus on this romance storyline (which they already ruined the moment they decided not to make it a polyamory storyline) that just isn’t that interesting as much as it is dramatic. The most interesting thing about Teddy right now is Jan. With most characters, to say that the most interesting thing about them is a different character would be insulting, but I mean it as a massive compliment to how well written their relationship is and how well they integrated Teddy into Jan’s character, considering he definitely wasn’t part of their original plan for her. I’m sure they will do an episode about Teddy and Jan, because if they don’t that is terrible writing, but I wish this one had given us more on his feelings towards her and about his family than it did. That’s what’s interesting. There’s so many angles to come at this from, there’s so many potential layers to their relationship. But no, they have to have uninteresting romance. If an autistic person with a special interest on a character is bored by the portrayal of that character, that isn’t a great sign. He is very interesting to me but not for reasons canon cares to consider. 

Part 3 - Spoiler Thoughts:

I want to be excited about this week's episode but I’m not sure after last week. I am excited for a Sah and Teddy interaction of actual substance, though. Very excited. That will make or break the episode for me. Will skip straight to it when I watch.

TEDDY INSISTS THAT HE DOESN’T WANT SAH TO LEAVE. MY BELOVEDS.

Lots of paramedic stuff which is good, Jan’s back which is good. Always questioned the use of Sah’s top surgery as a plot device, especially when they used it to create tension between them and Paige (??????), but I am kinda like noooooo about them having Teddy be dismissive about it. Yes, it is just my take on his character that this is an important thing about him, and Yes, he is gonna apologise. But they can’t blame me for caring about Teddy consistently being there for Sah on this when they’ve made so many other characters be vaguely or explicitly transphobic to them and only had Teddy be consistently on their side. YOU CAN’T BLAME ME FOR CARING ABOUT THAT. Teddy in my head would never and he’s the real one now. 

Do I think Sah is gonna leave? Maybe. I’ve been expecting them to leave during this miniseries for a couple reasons, even though that means we have a lot of characters leaving in a few months, but I thought it would happen later on. And two exits in two weeks is a lot. If they leave it’s like, I will absolutely miss them but it feels kinda like the writers don’t know what to do with them anymore anyway. Sah in my head lives on with Teddy in my head. 

Next week’s episode will have Max and Dylan stuff AND an acknowledgement of Donna?? I am kinda excited to see that, even if it will bring back my annoyance at how they wrote Donna’s exit.

Anyway, I’m back to being able to think about Casualty all the time without it having a direct effect on my real life obligations so expect more posts and faster replies for at least a month.

Can you tell I’ve been watching Succession?

[randomnameless]

btw random, i was wondering, why don't you like hapi?

Ooh!

Well, it's a mix of multiple factors, and while some friends tried to give another POV, I still have this, idk, aversion to the character.

As to why...

It mostly comes from the context.

Hapi was released with the DLC, in 2020.

Hapi has a special condition that makes her "dangerous" to the world outside, so she's quarantined in the Abyss.

She complains about the people who placed her there being assholes because they promised to heal her but lied because she still has her special condition - the Knights of Seiros found Hapi 1 year ago (in 1179).

The Knights of Seiros rescued me—promised to protect me. But then they hid me away in Abyss.

She even compares how the CoS "hid" her in the Abyss to Cornelia's experiments :

When I was little, a lady locked me up and held me captive for a long time.

So all the knights did was move me from one cage to another. Wouldn't you call that mistreatment?

And ultimately complains about her quarantine :

Those hypocrites preached about love and decency while shoving folks like me into the shadows.

So,

I know it's unrelated to the game, but in 2020, someone complaing about not being able to go outside because of an "illness", kind of understanding why they have to stay "at home" but still thinking the gov/officials who told her to stay at home suck because they told her to stay "at home" instead of finding a remedy and how they are hypocrites because they are people who preach about certain values, like freedom, while infringing said values when it's necessary - hit a bit too close to how some people acted and behaved during, well, 2020.

Sure, it sucks to be quarantined, but there is no remedy available for now and you represent a danger to some people - what are you going to do ?

(tfw no facemasks in Fodlan)

Complain about "government/authorities BaD" On how they "lied" because they said they were going to come up with a vaccine and it wasn't available in May 2020 ?

Granted, there is the angle of "those people said they were going to help me and didn't help" that could be interpreted as her feeling betrayed by people, after having been betrayed by Mole!Cornelia.

She's jaded and doesn't trust anyone - save for a few people - and complains a lot, about many things while being apathic, giving nicknames and believing to be witty. Hapi's basically your everyday run of the mill teenager - worse, add the constant "complaining" about everything and you have the worst, a french teenager.

And that's not the kind of character I enjoy in my fantasy games (or irl in general)

Add on top the "I understand why they had to keep me quarantined because public safety but they can't be preaching about love and roses when they do this to me even if it's for reasons that are perfectly legit" spiel that could have came out of a "freedom fighter" from 2020 and you have my feelings on that unit.

Of course no one gives a fuck about her condition and iirc she's never "healed" from Cornelia's experiment? Just like everything regarding multi tiled units, the Monsters Hapi summons are just used for a "lol funny" quirk, and it is never shown nor even mentioned that some of them might have had crushed a house or two, or slaughtered a random on the way to meet her because she sighed, nope. We don't even know what happened to the Church that sheltered her, how did they discover her power, did it happen by accident, what were the casualties? Can those beasts be controled ? Some of her ending suggest so, because she fights leading an army of them, but otherwise it's just...

I mean, in her support with Yuri she mentions she doesn't want to return hom because with her curse she could destroy the village, so maybe she learnt - later - how to control the beasts, idk.

I think the Dimitri support touches it, DImitri wants to help her and lift Cornelia's curse, Hapi says the Church tried but didn't manage to find a remedy? Their ending said after pursuing the mole people they finally managed to find one though.

Tl;Dr : Hapi being a teenager would already have led her just above the Doro tier imo in how much I appreciate the character, but add the Covid-19 context, she's even below Doro.

I know, it's shocking.

[giomagnetism]

but legitimately, that variation in attitude, in treatment of a character as an autonomous being vs as a piece of machinery in a story, is kind of at the heart of marlo and sprite's whole things both related and unrelated to each other. like, let me put it this way: marlo understands themself to have a fixed end. (not a lack of free will, but a sword to fall on in the end; in so many words, they know they're going to hell. that's the reason they don't bother to improve, their own resignation to their untimely demise's what leads to it, marlo's dogmatism is what ultimately kills them, character is fate, etc., that's what we're talking about here.) to be shown that their life is a story with an author, is confirmation of fate in the most literal sense. it would be not quite a relief to them, but justification. marlo is a cautionary tale. marlo wants to tell a story with a lesson at the end, and so creates casualties, and has therefore achieved what they set out to do. their personal suffering is secondary; they'd be secure in their martyrdom.

but, sprite in-universe and sprite as-representation are also two different things. sprite affects the latter in the former but the former is not always pertinent to the latter, squares and rectangles. if anything sprite is the lens through which we interpret the fictional universe and specifically its infinite potential. marlo is the OUTLIER in assuming their fate is fixed. it is that conviction which dooms them, because if they recognized their own power to physically yank the course of their life off its tracks and do something else about it, they could...make the difference. they'd end up written differently. but sprite is the structure—the authorial intent, the translation, the ludonarrative. they are the mechanism of how the story turns, the way it is told. "how is a greek chorus like a lawyer? they're both in the business of searching for a precedent [...] so as to be able to say this terrible thing we're witnessing now is not unique [...] we're not at a loss for how to think about this." by existing like so sprite codifies the story, narrows all that potential into one outcome.

that's not the conclusion to this post (well, line of thinking, i'm rambling at length) but it's 2 AM so i'll, like, wrap this up at a later date.

[sumzysworld]

hiii! i saw you reblog from me so i want to ask!

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

thank you!

Heyy thank you for the ask! I got a little carried away answering

1. The fics I would recommend are a bit too many. I have 2 series I LOVE writing and 3 drabbles I'm really proud of. Check them out here

1. Other Half ft MYG

2. A Creative Rivalry fT KNJ

3. Coffee and Casualty fT MYG

4. Hot on your wheels ft KTH

5. An Inspired Drabble ft JJK

To be honest, I'm proudest of my world-building. And being able to bring Seemingly unrelated things together into a universe. These were the fics I had most fun writing. I like trying out tropes ans genres ans seeing where they take me!

2. Honestly, Namjoon is my Bias and Yoongi is my bias wrecker. But I deeply respect the other 5 guys as well. And whenever there is a plot or a situation I try putting each member into it and asking myself who would best suit this plot? And then make the fic about them. For example, I feel the best member for a rom-com style caper is Jimin because he's just that cute and sentimentally comedic, with a sassy side we love!

I try to see who first what narrative. Sometimes, it's not just the members personality, but their potential dark side as well. Like Taehyung's unprdictability or Hoseok's raw ambition.

3. I would rather write a fic without dialogue completely. Because in real life we don't just speak through dialogue, we use actions, expressions and behavior to express what can't be put into words. Not being forced to write dialogue is freeing.

That's actually what I love about drabble, I can write a lot without writing any dialogue and still tell a story.

I'd probably die if I had to write a play or a Social Media fic.

Thank you for asking!!! Do give them a read and tell me what you think!

[markwateneymemorialcrater]

So my parents have drunk the pro-Israel coolaid for this conflict. And despite my efforts to avoid exposure to their brain rot, I have gotten an idea of how they view this conflict. (Keep in mind they probably are only getting info from conservative sources) these are not my own opinions and I personally do not think they represent the full truth.

Hamas is a terrorist organization that has the destruction of Israel and the Jewish people as a core pillar.

Hamas has fortified the Gaza Strip and uses its own civilians as shields to protect their bases of operation (this is why is ok to bomb hospitals and schools. Hamas has bases in them)

Hamas indoctrinates its people from birth into their terrorist organization (this also justifies why so many “civilians” are being targeted. They aren’t tree civilians. They are Hamas.

Israel has a right to defend itself against a terrorist organization hell bent on their own destruction.

The media is very pro-Palestine and if it was any other organization people were showing support for, it be considered hate speech and shut down.

The Jewish people have a god given claim to that land as described in the old testament.

Now I believe the truth is always more messy and complicated.

What we do know is that on this is a conflict that has been ongoing since the formation of the Israeli state post WWII. There have been many attacks and outbreaks of violence in that time with the general trend of Israel annexing more and more territory held by Palestinians. This resulted in the total containment of the Gaza Strip effectively creating a massive prison.

The current conflict started when Hamas launched an attack killing hundreds of Israeli’s. The Israeli military responded by unrelenting missile bombardment and ground invasion on targets claimed to be Hamas. These attacks have caused heavy civilian casualties.

Official Israeli statements and actions have indicated that their objectives are more than just destroying the political group Hamas, but to destroy the Palestinian people. Many organizations have called this an act of genocide. Most notable South Africa who have filed an official allegation of genocide with UN against Israel. The results of which are still ongoing.

There are many complicated factors and interests in this conflict.

Hamas has committed many attacks and acts of terror. They have an incredibly hostile attitude towards Israel. They have militarized and fortified the Gaza Strip to their abilities. I do not think they have fortified to the extent that Israeli media has claimed. They do indoctrinate their civilians. Though it is easy to indoctrinate a rebellion force when under the thumb of an oppressive enemy.

Israel has been on a decades long campaign to fully annex and occupy Palestinian territory. This has been largely permitted by the international community. Their claim to the land is as strenuous as any place of land with thousands of years of history and civilization dating back to pre history. Though claiming the Bible says the Jewish people were the first to settle is plainly wrong and I’m offended my parents know their own religion so poorly. The Old Testament frequently refers to native populations of Canaanites in the “holy land” before the Israelites.

Israel has a lot of political influence in international politics. Particularly with the western powers. This is partly due to Israel’s inception as a Jewish state set up by the allied powers after WWII so it is somewhat their darling child. Israel also is an incredibly tactical ally for the western powers as Israel grants them access to the Middle East with military bases. There is some religious alignment, particularly with many of the western leaders having Christian beliefs aligning with Zionism. As such, no western power wants to criticize Israel. This is causing a crisis in the integrity of the UN and a test of these mechanisms in law that were made to prevent genocide and mass innocent casualties.

As for the claim that the media is bias towards Palestine. Well there is a dominant support for Palestine by the people. You see many pro Palestine protests and social movements. But most major news networks are doing mental gymnastics to paint Israel as completely innocent. So hard to see the pro Palestine bias on the media there. But there is a grass roots bias for pro Palestine.

War is messy. And in the end, all sides are guilty. But nothing justifies the purposeful annihilation of a people. We didn’t kill all Germans for the acts of the Nazis. We shouldn’t permit the destruction of all Palestinians for the acts of Hamas. And same goes for Israel. There has been conflict in that region for as long as we have had records of it. Sadly I don’t see that changing easily, but a ceasefire would be at least a start.

Please keep in mind I am by no means a scholar or political expert. These are simply my own observations and barely educated opinions.

From the court today. Israel IS committing a genocide.