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blainke-omens · 24 days

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Crowley Does Pottery HC anyone ? Because … it has a grip on me. I couldn’t hold back posting this wip any longer — I am so desperate for anyone else to share my vision in this.

#you gotta think about all the METAPHORS #I could go on and on and on about why it fits him so well #and I am.#in my own notes app currently for now #I’ll post the lil fic I’m noodling about on someday #but until then #wip pottery Crowley #good omens #Crowley #good omens fanart #blainkes wips

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featherlouise · 1 year

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I started this about a week after we got the news, but life kinda got in the way and now I don't think this is ever getting finished, so I figured I'd post this before the new year (on my end lol)

So, this is super late, but Techno, I found your channel in 2020, not long after I lost my grandad, so thank you for making me laugh during a time when it was difficult to find reason to.

#technoblade #technofanart #mcyt techno #dsmp fanart #dream smp #my art #if I finish this I will definitely post it #but until then #this is all ur getting lol #mcyt fanart #mcyt #dsmp art #techno mcyt #dsmp techno

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the-bonfires-ember · 1 year

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today on 'i-learned-a-new-celeb-joined-tumblr': Lynda Carter

will i look for her to find out whether this is true or not? absolutely fucking not. that is not how this hellsite works and i refuse

#if she crosses my dash then ill know for sure #but until then #schrodingers celeb tumblr #lynda carter #celebs #celebrity #actress #wonder woman

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box-dwelling · 6 months

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I see your Narumitsu who waits during the 7yg and I raise you narumitsu who waited too long.

Narumitsu who know how they feel and know if they acted earlier they could be together and happy but can't because of Kristoph.

Edgeworth who missed his shot and now Phoenix is in love with a man who's bad for him but he has no right to intervene and isn't even on the same continent anymore

Or Phoenix who knows Kristoph is dangerous and refuses to drag Edgeworth into this because he loves him too much to put him at risk

Or Phoenix sat with Edgeworth on a balcony after Edgeworth finally confesses and then has to turn him down even though he loves him completely because he suspects Kristoph is capable of murder and thinks his days are numbered and cannot bare to be another source of tragedy in Edgeworth's life when he's invevitably killed. Phoenix refusing to let Edgeworth have a dead boyfriend when he already grieves so much for his dead father and he'd rather they never gave him the hope of them having a life together when he knows all it would take is a single slip up from him in this deadly game he's playing for it all to be lost

Just narumitsu who missed their chance and have to live with knowing that

#ace attorney #Wrightworth #narumitsu #krisnix #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #kristoph gavin #7yg #angst #obviously this then gets it happy ending after turnabout trump #but until then #ugh i love the angst of this #beanix

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wolfythewitch · 11 months

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Back on my Eat Your Young bullshit

Anyways so Eat Your Young itself I think is very trojan war core. And I know I've been vehemently against trying to fit the entire trojan war into a single show adaption but guess who thinks it'll work with a three minute song? ME, because I'm a hypocrite. it'll make no sense to anyone who doesn't know the story but that's okay it has cool shots and murder to the beat. "I wanna smell the dinner cooking. I wanna feel the edges start to burn." Cassandra looking up at Helen and knowing. The quiet part at the end is the actual fall of Troy. It'll probably be focused more on the Greek side. I reaaaaally want Achilles to sing "It's a kindness, highness." Iphegenia's sacrifice at "skinning your children for the war drum." That one vocalization part is just lots of murder I won't lie. Good for them. The second vocalization is more murder and also HORSE

All Things End I want to animate to Hector and Andromache specifically because I'm a wuss and they make me sad. I need him to kiss her belly when she's pregnant at "We begin again." I need him to slowly and somberly put on his armor at the second to the last chorus. I need him to fight Achilles to the death when the choir kicks in, alternating between his duel on the ground and his family's horrified reaction up on the walls. I need his eyes to slip shut when the final line echoes.

THROUGH ME THE FLOOD. THE ODYSSEY. FROTHS AT THE MOUTH. anyways I want to open on Ogygia. As you do. As you do. Need him to try to swim away and get washed back ashore. Need him to stand in his raft alone on the sea, small in the vast size of it to the line "I couldn't measure it." "Try measure loss, measure the silence of the house." PENELOPEEEEE. "With each grave, I think of loss and I could only think of you. I couldn't measure it." That. That scene. When she finally picks up his bow and weeps. "That the world, it burns through me." The arrow shot, the suitors' death. "That the world, it flows through me." Tree bed tree bed tree bed. Embrace. Kiss. Reunite again. Oh my god I'm going to explode

#I've thought about it too much #and i won't be able to do it because im not good enough #but until then #until then #you will suffer with me #imagine this with me #imagine #shakes you vigorously

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separatist-apologist · 7 months

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Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

“No,” Azriel moaned, thrashing beside her. Gwyn blinked, eyes adjusting to the inky darkness swirling around her. “Don’t touch me.”

“Az?” she whispered, rolling to her back. It took her a moment to truly see him, but there he was, prone and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. This, she realized, was a nightmare. “Az, wake up.”

He didn’t, mumbling something unintelligible. His shadows swarmed around him, lethal and vicious as they blotted out any light that might have slipped from the open window.

Reaching carefully through that fog, Gwyn didn’t hesitate. They wouldn’t hurt her, of that she was certain. Azriel, on the other hand? Well, the moment her hand touched his bare chest, he had her on her back again, wrists pinned over her head.

She blew him back, calling up magic before she could truly think about what she was doing. The momentary panic of being restrained was overridden by the knowledge that no one could ever hurt her again. Azriel groaned, slamming through the closed door in a shower of splinters.

“Fuck,” she heard him mumble. Gwyn swallowed, sitting up in bed as Azriel clambered over the ruined wood to stare her down. He looked like a demon in the dark, eyes glowing gold in the moonlight. Shadows swarmed over his shoulders and though Azriel wore nothing but a pair of sleep shorts, his weapon closer to her reach than his own, Gwyn thought even battle hardened warriors would have cowered beneath that stare.

She met his gaze. “Don’t put your hands on me,” she whispered, hoping she sounded just as lethal as he looked.

“Did it feel good?” he questioned, cocking his head like a curious cat. “Knowing you could best me?”

Gwyn nearly groaned in irritation. Of course he’d circle right back to training. All he’d seen was that she could take him, which meant he’d been twice as punishing the next time they were on that little island.

“Answer me,” he ordered, the words laced with some twisting, pulse of magic.

“Yes,” she breathed through clenched teeth. Azriel’s smile was lethal as he prowled back to the bed, ignoring the scent of blood coming from somewhere on his skin. The coppery, salty tang in the air was doing something to her, though. Arousal bolted through her like a lance, rich and warm until Gwyn thought she might have licked it from him if she could have found the source. Instead, she pressed her thighs together, determined to keep him from realizing what was happening to her.

“I’m far more powerful than most males,” he reminded her, determined to turn everything into a lesson.

“Yes, Azriel,” she agreed, yanking the blanket back over her body. Maybe she should have gone back to her bed—it was too late for it, now. Azriel had her back pinned to his chest, nose back in her hair. If she was lucky, he’d fall right back into sleep without noticing a thing. “Go to bed.”

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered and she knew he smelled it, then. Gwyn wanted it, too, just as much as she knew letting him lose himself this way wasn’t helpful to either of them. She wouldn’t be the salve to this wound just as he refused to be the same for her.

Gwyn rolled onto her back and when he tried to kiss her, she turned her head. “Tell me about the dream, Az.”

“Gwyn,” he breathed, pain lacing her name.

“I think I deserve to know. After…after everything we’ve been through,” she added, hating how her voice warbled. She was starting to care about him and in that moment, she wondered if maybe it was just one sided. Unreciprocated. If she’d just become another job to him, duty bound to help because that was the role he’d assigned himself.

She wasn’t going to beg him. Stomach churning with anxiety, skin suddenly cold, Gwyn swore she’d walk away if he denied her. There would be distance between them again. Polite, but firm. No more kissing, or touching, or the emotional vulnerability she’d been pouring into him.

But in her mind, she pleaded with him all the same. Please.

“In the first war, Rhys’s father separated us,” Azriel said after an agonizing wait. Rolling onto his stomach, he tucked his wings tight against him, his tell for when he was preparing for a fight.

“Rhys led a regiment and Cassian was relegated as a mere footsoldier on the front lines. And I…I became his spy. He never cared much about the freedom of humanity—his interests lay in protecting his home and the commerce coming in and out of Night. He made a lot of decisions that wiped whole human settlements off the face of the map and he did it without concern or care. They were animals to him, but freeing himself of Hybern would enrich him, and he had long stopped utilizing slaves. They were too hard to trust.”

Gwyn didn’t say a word, didn’t dare to even touch him.

“Rhys doesn’t know, but I was spying on him back then, too. Sometimes I think…I think his father half hoped Rhys might die. He wanted Cassian to, too. He saw how powerful we were together and it was a threat to him. And when Rhys was captured, I…I was told to ignore it. He directed troops elsewhere.”

“Az…”

“I knew Tamlin’s father was preparing an attack against the High Lord. I’d learned of it months before. Rhys had taught me to guard my mind against his kind and so when the High Lord would pull into my thoughts, I’d push everything else to the forefront but I guarded that secret like a lifeline. I didn’t know what they planned, exactly. Only that a trap had been sprung, and that Tamlin was integral to it.”

Gwyn wasn’t breathing at all, listening to this confession in the dark,

“I didn’t know Rhys had told Tamlin where the Lady and princess were going. That he was meeting them. And when I found out—”

Azriel sucked in a jagged breath. “It was too late, then. I got what I wanted. Tamlin slaughtered Rhys’s father, and Rhys, Cassian, and I were reunited. And I’ve never told him that I could have stopped it if I wanted to. That I…that I let his mother and sister die because I wanted to escape his father.”

“Az—”

“Don’t you dare try and make this right—”

“Shut up,” she hissed, grabbing his hand before he could stop her. “Don’t you tell me what to say. You didn’t do anything. That lies on the men who killed two innocent females in the middle of a war. You can’t…gods, Azriel, you can’t blame yourself for what other people did.”

“But if I had told him—”

“What if? What if you had? You still wouldn’t have known Rhys told Tamlin about his mother, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop them from killing her. You can’t…it’s not your fault.”

“I dream about them all the time. She was like my own mother. She took me in. And Rhys’s sister was so little. A girl. She had wings—not like Rhys’s, but actual Illyrian wings and we might have had an Illyrian princess on the throne. I think, sometimes, what she might have done if she’d lived. How she could have changed things and I took that from everyone and they must hate me so much for it—”

Gwyn reached for him, sitting up just enough that he could bury his face in her lap. He didn’t cry, though his breath came in great, gulping pants. “You should hate me.”

“I couldn’t hate you if I wanted to,” she admitted, running her fingers through his hair. “And neither would Rhys. Or his mother, for that matter. No one would, Azriel. You were in an impossible situation, but killing the ladies of the seven courts is a war crime that doesn’t belong on your shoulders. You were his prisoner.”

“I dream about them all the time. Bloodied and alone. Afraid. I wish I could have changed it. I would have served him a thousand years to prevent that.”

Gwyn leaned forward, kissing his scalp. “Their deaths are not on you. You don’t get to claim them, Az. That burden belongs to another High Lord, who is long dead and can’t atone, but that doesn’t mean you have to. Look at me. Az, please. Look at me.”

He looked up, eyes glowing gold in the dark. They were suspiciously wet and glassy, but no tears. She almost wished he would give himself permission to wholly feel everything rumbling through him.

“Tell me that you know that.”

He pressed his lips together and Gwyn fought back the urge to laugh at him. “Stubborn,” she chided, brushing her fingers over his soft mouth. “But I know what you would say if I was in your lap, blaming myself for things I couldn’t control.”

“What would I say?” he asked hoarsely, his expression a mix of yearning and desperation.

“To forgive myself,” she murmured, wishing now that she’d let him kiss her. Next time she swore she wouldn’t deny him. “That I wasn’t to blame for other people's cruelty.”

“That’s different. You’re so…and I’m…”

“We’re the same,” she insisted, holding his face gently in her palm. “You see it so clearly when its me, just as I’m starting to think I see it so much better when it's you. And maybe…maybe it was the Mother who brought us here. Maybe she’s tired of seeing you suffer, Azriel. It’s been five hundred years of torment. And I think, as her avatar on this plane, that I speak for her when I say that she’d like to see you smile again. Really smile.”

His eyes were so big, so filled with unguarded hope that Gwyn felt her heart break a little. “Yeah?”

In truth, Gwyn hadn’t tried to speak to the Mother in years. Not since Catrin died. It seemed almost like betrayal to agree to it now, and yet she thought she would for Azriel. That she had to. Something soft thrummed in her chest, humming with approval. That was the goddess then, clearly delighted that Gwyn would try again.

It's not devotion to you, Gwyn thought quickly, as if it mattered.

Because the truth was far more terrifying.

It was devotion to him.

AZRIEL:

“Are you busy?”

Gwyn looked up from her book, scribbling notes in the margins with ink stained fingers. She’d tied her hair off her face messily, the ribbon coming loose. Her dress was rumpled from sitting in the same position for too long and Azriel was fairly certain she’d never looked lovelier.

He ached to touch her. Had been thinking of a million different excuses to sweep her up in her arms and take her flying far from this palace. Time was ticking down. A week, and then he’d take her back to Velaris and an uncertain future that terrified him. He still didn’t know entirely where they stood or what she even wanted from him.

And he was half certain she was going to realize she could do better and that he was just as broken as he kept trying to tell her he was, and she’d go running.

Right then, though, Gwyn’s eyes snapped to his face. “I could take a break,” she admitted, stretching her neck.

“C’mon,” he said, offering her his hand. Any excuse to touch her. To pull her close. To take them far away from this miserable, fetid palace that grated against his senses. Kai still hadn’t returned and if Azriel was lucky, he never would. He enjoyed not having competition for Gwyn’s time and attention, and none of the courtiers paid them any mind anymore.

All he was waiting on was a report from the shadow he’d sent to Koschei’s lake to give to Rhys and then he was free, too. Montessere was strange, but whatever was going on here wasn’t his problem.

Gwyn followed him out to the balcony, squealing quietly when he swept her up into his arms without warning or preamble and kicked off the ground. It felt good to stretch his wings, to be airborne with the sun on his face and his mate clinging to his neck.

“Dramatic,” he teased, lips against her temple.

“You did that on purpose,” she accused.

“Are you suggesting I didn’t warn you so a beautiful female would press herself against me?” he joked in return, letting her see him smile. Gwyn’s expression softened, though he knew better than to try it twice in a row. He was certain she had a knife hidden somewhere on her person, besides.

“Flirt,” she retorted. No one had ever said that to him. Azriel huffed out a laugh. Everything was just easy with her. It was easy to let his guard down, to tell her the truth. And after the night they’d shared, where he’d admitted one of the things that haunted him and she’d been so understanding, he wanted more. Wanted all of her. Every little piece. Every smile, every laugh, every scowl. He wanted an eternity of her sass, of her pretty, dark hair and those jewel bright eyes.

Even if he didn’t yet believe he deserved it, he still wanted it. He thought he could spend a lifetime proving to Gwyn and the Mother that he deserved her, too. He could earn his mate by taking care of her…which, he had begun to suspect, meant taking care of himself, too. They were broken and carefully piecing the other back together.

The words he wanted to say burned in his throat, trying so hard to claw their way out. I love you, I love you, I love you—

He swallowed the impulse. Not yet. Not now. Not until he was certain that wasn’t just the mating bond talking, and definitely not before he knew where they stood.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Away,” he said, soaring over the open sea until the palace was merely a pinprick in the distance. Wind kissed his wings, the world melting away until he thought they were the last two people in it.

“Don’t you get tired?” she questioned, peering around him to look down at the sparkling water below.

“No,” he scoffed, though he did let himself drop just a little so Gwyn would scramble again and wrap her legs around his torso.

“Prick!” she accused, swatting at his chest while Azriel howled with laughter.

“I told you I was trying to get close to a beautiful female,” he managed through gasps, wiping the tears streaming from his eyes on his shoulder. “It’s not my fault you’re too busy ogling me to listen to me talk.”

“What has gotten into you today?” she asked, a smile spreading over her face.

He only shrugged. Azriel felt light today. Easy. He said, “I’m happy.”

Gwyn looked at him, eyes bouncing back forth between his own as if looking for some hint of dishonesty. “It looks good on you, shadowsinger.”

“It’s your doing,” he admitted, pressing his mouth against her own. He’d imagined this moment before—holding her against his body, wings spread wide with nothing but the open air around them. He wondered, briefly, if this was the kind of simple joy his brothers had found. There was nothing like flying in the entire world. It was, at times, the only freedom he’d ever had. But flying with his mate wrapped around him, kissing her with no one but the gods themselves as a witness, well. That was bliss.

And he was happy. Happy in a way he’d never been in his entire life. Azriel was starting to believe that he could have her and it wouldn’t need to be complicated or end in disaster. He was also starting to think that she could love him too and he would be worthy of it.

Azriel deepened the kiss, swallowing the urge to moan when she sighed softly against his lips. She was sweet, fingers digging against his shoulders. Azriel left his hands drift down her spine until he cupped her ass, pressing her firmly against him so she could feel his erection. There was, probably, some mechanics to having her in flight that his people knew but was a mystery to him, even if the thought thrilled him.

That didn’t stop him from kissing her, drifting lazily in the sky so he could have this moment with her. In the back of his mind, he was well aware he was taking them back to the palace and that what he wanted was to rip that dress off her and bury himself so deep inside her that she felt nothing but him.

Azriel wanted her to feel their shared soul, and couldn’t figure out another way to bring it to her awareness. Gwyn was, of course, blissfully unaware of this. She arched her neck for him when he trailed his mouth down her throat, eyes open so he could see her hair streaming behind her, face glowing in the sunlight. She was so absurdly beautiful he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

She was his just as surely as he was hers. Did she even realize? Azriel wanted to lay himself at her feet, to swear himself into her service and hers alone. Gods, but Azriel needed to tell her everything. Was he a male who prided himself on keeping secrets?

Not this one, he thought. It was killing him to keep it to himself. Even as he buried his face between her breasts, hands kneading her ass until she began rubbing herself against him, Azriel was convincing himself to just tell her everything. Lay it all out there, remove this final secret between them.

No more lies.

Only the truth.

Azriel’s feet collided with the balcony. “Gwyn, I need—”

“I know,” she breathed, sliding down his body only to rise up on her tiptoes, fingers pulling at the laces of his tunic. “So do I.” What?

Azriel’s mind emptied of all thoughts the moment heard her say those words, unable to process, let alone comprehend. All he knew was her tongue in his mouth, her fingers pulling until she had his shirt on the ground, palms rubbing up and down his torso. Those same fingers slipped into the band of his pants and Azriel didn’t do a damn thing to stop her.

She wanted him.

It could wait, he decided, pushing the two of them into their shared room. Fuck, but it could wait until he finished. And maybe he’d get lucky and she’d feel it too, she’d tell him and he could pretend he was just now learning. A small deception in the scheme of things, one they’d laugh about in a century when everything was well established between them.

Or, she’d at least accepted the bond.

“I want you,” he whispered, teeth sinking against her bottom lip as. Gwyn moaned, hand gripping the base of his cock. “I want you so fucking bad, I—”

“Well isn’t this cute,” an all too familiar voice sneered from another part of the room. Azriel and Gwyn froze, heads whipping to the side. Hot fury burned through Azriel, made all the worse by the threat to his mate.

Though he never needed a reason to want to rip apart Eris fucking Vanserra.

The Autumn Court male strolled into full view, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his exceptionally punchable face.

“Who knew Night Court politics were so sensual? Rhysand certainly undersold what you two were doing here.”

“Get out,” Azriel whispered, swallowing the urge to remove Eris’s head from his body. They weren’t in Prythian. He didn’t need to abide by their laws. If Eris died here, well…whoops.

“Come now,” Eris crooned, eyes sliding to Gwyn. Azriel’s wings flared, wanting to hide her from view. He caught the shifting look on Eris’s face, nostrils flared and then the delight as he realized what Gwyn hadn’t yet.

No.

Gwyn didn’t say a word, eyes never leaving the male before them. Eris had Azriel captive now and he must have known it.

“We have a lot to catch up on. Meet me in the dining hall in ten minutes.”

He turned, having given his order, and left without another word or glance backward. Azriel couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.

He knew right then and there that he was so utterly and absolutely fucked.

#one day this fic will be all pleasure no pain #but until then #gwynriel

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richardsthirdnipple · 1 month

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THE POSSIBILITY OF NETTLES NOT BEING IN HOTD.

I'm still not buying it. I don't think they'll go out of their way to cast Silver Denys who's most notable feat is dying because of Sheepstealer and the Cannibal, Alyn of Hull, who's purpose in the narrative at this point is to be burned by Sheepstealer and not include Nettles.

I know a lot of people are trying to say that maybe Baela has taken her place, but I don't think so. They are sending Rhaena away to the Vale for her storyline. Baela has a bigger part in the fighting, but I don't think that after House Velayron loses Rhaenys, Corlys will allow Baela to fight. I think she'll be placed on Driftmark to pacify Corlys and allow for some sort of representation of his loyalty to Rhaenyra to be at her side. At that point, they would have three new dragon riders so she could sit it out. I think that Baela would be a better person to introduce the idea of Addam (and Alyn) as Heirs to house Velayron because she's more politically savvy in this adaptation.

This is also the season where they set up the Battle Nettles participates in, and she was always the last Dragonseed to claim her dragon, and her process seemed to take the longest.

Basically I'm not worried until we know that Jace is gonna die.

Also, if they choose to bring her in season 3, I genuinely believe it's because they are not going to let her be a Dragonseed in the actual sense. She will not be of Valyrian descent because thematically, she'd be removed from the sowing.

Don't get sad if you're anticipating her, and don't get happy if you want her to be removed. It seems very deliberate that she hasn't been announced, but the feat she achieves is being set up.

STAN THE DRAGON AND RIDER MARKED AND NAMED THIEVES FOR CLEAR SKIN.

#hotd #house of the dragon #nettles #nettles asoiaf #netty #a song of ice and fire #are yall okay?#we lost the plot again #its okay #nettles and sheepstealer #sheepstealer #the cannibal #body stealing ghost fans we're so back #if she isn't there next season ill wave my white flag and ride at dawn #but until then #we are so endgame #daemon will burn

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faceofpoe · 1 month

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"Don't make the same mistake twice."

Because I am fully in camp 'Clone Operative dude is someone devastating under that helmet' do not clown us all on this writers and a spiteful at condescending assholes on Reddit hopeful part of me just really wants it to somehow be (saveable) Tech so we can have a reunited-for-one-last-fight-full-Batch-back-together finale-

The narrative argument for somehow-Tech-returned:

(also see: my (much shorter) narrative contemplation for Cody)

I have a sneaking suspicion that our character development focus is going to shift from Crosshair to Hunter for the back half of the season. Crosshair feels a bit... done? He chose Omega over the easy out on Lau, he's owned up to making mistakes, embraced his place among the squad again ("much worse" than Hunter - lol), he's had his faceoff/heart-to-heart/mutual saving each other rapid progression with Howzer - yeah I imagine there are still things we're going to learn about what he went through/possible ramifications therein, but as far as accepting who he is/his place/etc I think we're winding down on his focus.

Bringing our attention to the end of ep 7 and Rex & Hunter's convo about walking away, and his convo at the end of s2 with Echo about an unwinnable fight and so on. He just wants to protect his squad but the walls are closing in, and Omega won't be content just running and hiding.

And this brings me to the end of season 1 and Crosshair's rather lacking motivational speech about why they should join the Empire finally - they're meant for more than wandering aimlessly as fugitives, etc, and he tells Hunter - "Don't make the same mistake twice."

Now in s3e5, in what felt like the galaxy's most unfinished conversation ever, Hunter tells Crosshair he has "regrets" - but what exactly are they?

Fleeing Kamino in Aftermath, presumably not.

But the number of times in season 1 when he's given the opening to revisit the whole "leaving our own behind" thing and just - doesn't? Everyone else starts in on the "wait maybe the whole thing was the chip?' convo in ep 3 and he shuts it down to focus on the crisis at hand. He later says he's mad at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega says they'll find a way to get him back and he nods but - I don't think the notion is ever revisited?

Rex emphasizes how the chips are impossible to resist.

They *see* what it does to Wrecker.

Howzer refuses to flee Ryloth with them because he won't abandon his squad - knows they're good men, hopes he can convince them that they're not doing the right thing. We get a brief contemplative look at that, and the look back at Crosshair after they flee but.

After Kamino and after Bracca, sure, maybe the risk of even trying to get to him would seem too high - but we never even get a conversation about it, about finding a way to recover Crosshair and get the chip out now that they know how to do it.

He's also the most skeptical one about the Plan 88 message even after a presumably decent chunk of time has passed, after he knows the chip is gone, after Crosshair saved Omega on Kamino.

So - thesis, please - my narrative argument for wintersoldier'ified-Tech isn't about very mean visual teases callbacks, and it's not about undoing Tech's sacrifice or carving out room for a Tech redemption arc (because we wouldn't need it) (seriously this one baffles me, what?) -

It's about Hunter getting the chance to not make the same (actual) mistake twice, writing off one of his squad as a lost cause and leaving them behind.

(I'm also still really hung up on meeting Phee on the line "Better late than dead" but that's a different conversation)

Thank you for coming to my Tech talk.

#help we're entering 'poe left unattended with tbb' territory that's traditionally been reserved for andor #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch #bad batch spoilers #look I can't fathom how dude could have survived there was literally a whole cable car falling on top of him #but like #this fucking show lol #this is the part where someone is going to point out a very obvious conversation I've forgotten about that discounts everything I just said #but until then #lol

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greenwood-witch · 2 years

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The line of this fella's nose is such a delight to draw. That slight bump and then sharp point...magnificent.

MoonApothecary on Redbubble.

#dream of the endless #morpheus #sandman #sandman netflix #the sandman #tom sturridge #artist dreams #pointy gentleman #one day I will move on to something else #but until then #you're my inspiration actor guy

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pixelatedtears02 · 6 months

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One thing that destroys me is that Mike Wheeler will always choose what he believes is best for other people, and won’t even consider his own happiness first. It’s always about his friends. And yet his choices only seem to hurt the ones he cares about the most. Every choice he believes to make his loved ones happy only seems makes them miserable, but all he wants is their happiness. It’s never about him, and it’s always about other people, but it never seems to work out in his favour.

#mike wheeler #I’m rewatching stranger things again #and all I can think abt is how tragic he is #give this boy a hug #this especially applies to Will and El #but that’s a whole other thing #if you guys want me to elaborate I will #but until then #that’s all #stranger things #will byers #el hopper #byler #byler endgame #byler nation #< target audience #anti milkvan #and proud

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