I got a few asks after my post explaining why I wasn't entirely convinced ocelot was canonically in love with bb. I'm not going to answer any of them. sorry. we'd be going round in circles and I don't want to drag this out or have it become a big THING. interpreting their relationship/ocelot's feelings as romantic is not without basis but it's not really how I see it anymore after reading so much about him, especially after learning that all of the japanese words for love used in relation to ocelot do not have exclusively romantic connotations and carry more nuance than eg. "fallen for him?" does in english. there are other examples of this from guidebooks/interviews, etc. that have come up while putting japanese text through online translators. in the mgs3 scenario book, the script note (all major ocelot script notes here) on ocelot's feelings after snake defeats his entire unit and lectures him on his technique is:
オセロットはこの時の強烈すぎる屈辱でスネークに惹かれる。
The initial result from deepl is:
"Ocelot is attracted to Snake because of the intense humiliation of this moment."
if the words "attracted to" were used in english, the implication would be pretty clear in this context - ocelot has a crush on bb. however, if you look up the japanese word used here - 惹かれる -the meaning is actually closer to charmed by/fascinated by/captivated by/drawn to - none of which are exclusively romantic. "attracted to" still technically fits but is a very literal translation. a more suitable choice would be one of the above because an english audience would commonly associate the phrase "attracted to" with romantic or sexual feelings
if ocelot could ever be described as having a crush, it would be in mgs3, when he first meets bb. in japanese, that type of passionate love would apparently be described as 恋 (koi). this is never used to describe ocelot but it is used to describe volgin and raikov, who are confirmed lovers:
大佐とイワン少佐は恋仲。
"Colonel and Major Ivan are in love."
恋仲 - being in love with each other
when ocelot is described as "longing for snake", the word for "longing" used is 憧れる, the main meaning of which relates to admiration. according to this page, it can also have romantic connotations but 焦がれる is more frequently used to express that
it seems a deliberate choice to make ocelot's feelings ambiguous by selecting words that convey a complex range of emotions rather than stating them to be outright romantic. the words used always have alternate meanings unrelated to romantic love, which is why I'm hesitant to acknowledge "ocelot is in love with bb" as solid concrete definite 100% canon, seeing as I'm incapable of understanding the nuance of japanese as a native english speaker. as far as I'm able to understand, it's up to individual interpretation imo
whether you believe ocelot's feelings for bb were romantic or not, we can still agree that everything he did for him was out of some form of love, that type being 愛 (ai) - the deep, unconditional love that might drive a person to dedicate their entire life to another and alter their mind and body to enact their will of eternal global warfare. aww <3
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Prompt 266
Back on my Danny & Ras frienemies/rivals/maybe-lovers-nobody-can-tell-their-signals-are-very-mixed train.
See, Danny has gone through time a lot. Often. It comes with being Clockwork’s charge-son-thing and honestly he finds it fun. And several times he’s used this time travelling to get some training in. Enter Ras, stage left, also a teen at the time and also learning swordsmanship from the same person.
And they… utterly despise each other. They would kill the other for an apple slice, if the other one would die! But also, only they can kill the other, as it is obviously their right!
And well, they keep running into each other. It has been a hundred years, surely the other would die by now? But of course their rival would live through utter spite. Probably to spite them specifically.
The amount of times they have ended up sparring- trying to kill each other or not- the moment they see the other is actually ridiculous. But time is also passing. And… Danny understands, not having another to talk about things people are forgetting, or have already forgotten.
How they ended up actually talking without a murder attempt was a long story that included a demon, a dragon, a pair of fae, some bandits, and a lot of alcohol, but it happened. And then it happens again. And again, and now it’s just kind of normal to share a drink after their spars, talking about things that no longer exist, and things they miss.
Sure Danny can go back in time again, but he knows better than to do it willy nilly. He’s matured, he’s been an adult for a hundred years now, he knows there’s consequences for messing with time, even with Clockwork’s blessings.
The first time they got married was technically for an undercover assassination. Well, Ras was there to assassinate someone, Danny was there to grab an artifact that should Not be in the realm of the living. And they got divorced after, it was fine.
They just, also got married again when they met a few years later, for another job. And… okay, so maybe they have gotten married over a dozen times now and only divorced like half of those times. Half of those were for the bit or while drunk!
And even if technically they’re married or shared a bed, it’s not like they're exclusive! As Ras’ daughters’ existences attest to (adopted in one case or not). They don’t exactly have a label for their relationship, despite others asking for one or trying to put a name to it themselves.
Now Danny knows Ras isn’t exactly a good dude, or at least on the side of ‘good’ as he’s a literal assassin. But he also knows that good? Bad? Rather relative. He had gotten labeled as a villain when he was just trying to help all that time ago after all, and really who was he to tell someone else how to live their life?
Which brings him to now, where he’s run into his old frienemy-rival and his youngest daughter. Who has a braindead teenager and a small toddler. Which is fine, really- but also, Talia dear, why are you using a brain dead teenager to guard your three year old son?
…
Okay, Talia dear, Ras (Derogatory), why are you using your brain dead son and grandson to guard your younger son and grandson? Do you not have the Pits, which you were soo proud about Ras? Yes, he will spar with you, but for Realms’ sake, heal, what’s his name? Ah yes, go heal Jason and he’ll actually stick around for a few years, deal? Good.
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The eggs are asleep, and finally Philza and Missa can catch a moment to themselves. Unfortunately, catching that moment means admitting to the injuries they have been hiding from their children - fussing over scratches while having arrowheads lodged next to your spine is the duty of a parent on Quesadilla Island, but an exhausting one.
Missa's quick fingers manage to pull said arrowhead from Philza's back, the momentary flash of pain causing him to nearly drop the iodine solution. He doesn't, though, just a little stain on the floorboards, and so he continues applying it to the wound in Missa's leg.
He barely notices the scratch of a needle against his back, but Missa cannot help but whine as the gauze is pressed against his wound.
"I hate it here," Missa manages, thankfully in English as Philza is in no position to twist and see his translator. "Why is everything trying to kill us?"
"The island fucking hates us, is why," Philza grouches, reaching over for a bandage. He's managed to get Missa's leg to stop bleeding, but it should still be covered. "Enjoy the island my ass."
Missa giggles a bit, even as he tapes a dressing in place over the arrow wound. He says something in Spanish which is definitely too fast for Philza to parse; he tries to turn and look, only to be gently pressed back into position.
"It's nothing," Missa assures him. "But the skeletons! Why are they so bad?"
"The skeletons aren't even the worst of it," Philza groans back. "If you ever see glowing eyes and nothing else? Run."
There's a long pause, and Philza hopes that Missa understands the severity of his warning - a Nightmare Stalker is exactly that, and Philza knows Missa is not nearly equipped to handle one. If he struggles as he does, he doesn't want to think about how his partner would suffer in his stead.
"It's okay," Missa pats his shoulder a few times, leaning around his wings to do so. "I'm good at running. It's my special talent!"
"You're good at a lot of things," Philza promises.
Missa doesn't reply; this time when Philza turns, he is allowed to. His entire body aching he sits himself up and twists himself around, taking Missa's face him his hands.
"You are so good," he promises. "So, so good. There's nobody else I would want to raise my eggs with."
There's more on the tip of his tongue; Philza quashes it as Missa closes his eyes, rest of his expression hidden by his mask.
Philza can see Missa struggle with his words for a bit - he's always amazed how someone can make themselves understood in two languages - before eventually receiving, "you are the best egg father."
"We have the best egg child," he retorts.
"We do!" Missa's entire body language perks up. "Chayanne is the best egg child, and he is ours. We are so lucky."
"We really are."
Philza isn't sure when it happens, but eventually he realises that he has leant forward, his forehead resting against Missa's mask. He closes his eyes and savours it, feeling as Missa loosely places his arms across his bare back - Philza needs his for support, one either side of Missa's hips and taking his weight, but otherwise he would do much the same.
The two of them stay in silence for a while, savouring each other's presence. The pain is still there, from protecting their children, and yet... In a simple house of oak and glass, for a moment it is all peace.
"Run away with me."
This is not how Philza had ever meant to bring it up, but the words slip out of their own accord.
Missa startles, eyes wide and spine straight as he blinks himself out of the peaceful haze, "qué?!"
"Run away with me," he shifts so he can see all of Missa's face, taking both of his partner's hands in his own. "Take the children, and run away. Find a way off this island, and to another world - one where the skeletons are the /only/ thing to worry about. I'll build you another house and we'll make it a home. Any colour you like, with a fence and walls and real bedrooms and a kitchen for Chayanne and gardens for Tallulah... You can have your own music room and kick Wilbur out for trying to steal your guitar, and we can sit on the roof in the moonlight and you can sing and I'll dance with the children asleep beneath us and no risk of zombie horsemen on our tail."
"But how-" a small whine catches in Missa's throat. "How do we get away? They said we cannot leave."
"There's always a way to leave," Philza says. "We just have to find it."
There's hands in his wings, and Philza startles.
"Your wings are so big... If they healed, you could fly away," Missa says, something wishful in his tone. "Up and up and far, far away, so far they could never catch you."
"And leave you behind?" he asks.
"You'd come back for Chayanne. And I... I could follow you then?"
"Even if something happens to Chayanne, I'd come back for you," Philza promises. "I won't leave you here, not in this hell."
"You wouldn't leave anyone here, if you could help it."
"Probably," Philza admits. "But I wouldn't come back for them, not if I didn't know I could escape again - I'd come back for you."
"I'll wait for you," Missa seems almost to melt in Philza's touch, whimpering as he curls in on him. Philza isn't even sure what he said wrong, just that his egg partner is clinging to him, whimpering.
"We might not always be together," he tries to reassure. "But I will always come back for you - I'll always find you. There's no point in running away if we don't run away together; if some day I /can/ fly away, I'd only do it to come back with help."
The whimpering turns to sobbing, and Philza adjusts his position to hold Missa properly. The hands in his feathers dig deep - one finger catches on some tape holding one of the litany of dressings in place - but Philza just holds Missa and worries.
Why this reaction? Was it something he said?
He stops talking just in case; Missa clearly wants a hug, so he just holds him, understanding only odd words of the broken fragments of Spanish between the sobs.
Eventually the tears slow; Missa pulls away, still sniffling.
"And... Spreen can come?"
"He can live next door, if he wants," Philza promises; it'll be a little hard to negotiate with Fit, but interpersonal drama is just a part of life. "A whole new town for /everyone/ - all of the islanders, and all of our friends. Maybe if we let his ex in Forever will even stop hitting on me."
That earns a laugh, if a bit of a wet one.
"I want to dance with you," Missa says.
"With no zombie riders," Philza promises. "Maybe tomorrow we could dance a bit at the Favela? But, one day, we'll do it somewhere safe."
"On the roof, under the moon?"
"I'll make a roof specially designed for it."
The tears slow some more, and Missa drops to actually lie on the bed.
"Do you really think we'll escape?" Missa turns to Philza and asks. "We broke the Wall, and the Federation-"
Philza moves to lie beside him - on his front while Missa is on his back - and takes a hand. "We will. I promise."
"But-"
"Someone cleverer than us will work it out," he smiles to Missa. "We've just got to survive while they do."
"And if they don't?"
"Then I'll burn the Federation to the ground."
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Here's the second profile I have made, this time for a self-insert I previously hadn't drawn yet: Nurse! ❤❤❤ Once again, more info and tag list will be under the cut. Any reblogs or comments are seen and appreciated! ❤💙❤💙❤💙
Other Profiles: R. Marie (Crash Bandicoot)
Cheery, always smiling, and sometimes overly enthusiastic about their work, the Nurse is an apprentice to the Medic, and is proud to proclaim that they've learned all they know about the practice of medicine from their mentor - a statement that should terrify anyone who ends up on their operating table. Although their disregard for human life is nowhere near as flagrant as the Medic, their ideas of "improving human life" is more akin to finding a way to give people super-powers through painful experiments than actually performing any type of healing.
Recently the Nurse has found himself infatuated with the Spy, after a fervent, impassioned operation removing a bullet from his kidney. After all, nothing could be more intimate than digging through a man's inner workings with your bare hands, so ever since that day the Nurse has been dedicated to convincing the Spy to be his one and only guinea pig scientific partner. Of course, the Spy isn't anywhere near stupid enough to agree to that arrangement, but a few of the Nurse's experiments have ended up being genuinely useful, plus he feels like a small debt is owed to the Nurse for all the med bay visits, not to mention he's always a ray of sunshine to see... Maybe a few experimental procedures is worth it.
@ava-ships, @bee-ships, @beetleboyfriend, @canongf, @clawfull, @cloudyvoid, @derelictdumbass, @discountwives, @dissonantyote, @edencantstopfallininlove, @final-catboy, @gible-love-nibles, @halsdaisy, @hoppinkiss, @hotrodharts, @hyperionshipping, @iyamifucker, @lex-n-weegie, @little-miss-selfships, @little-shiny-sharpies, @loogi-selfships, @lovebugexe, @mandrakebrew, @mintpecks, @mrs-kelly, @nameless-self-ships, @nerdstreak, @paper-carnation, @patches-and-her-selfships, @p-i-t-s, @reds-self-ships, @rexscanonwife, @ship-trek, @spacestationstorybook, @squips-ship, @tiny-cloud-of-flowers, @toogayforthistoday, @scroldie, @winterworlds
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vinegar valentines
It's February 14th, Valentine's Day, and love is in the air. Today is the day to send flowers, share chocolates and, perhaps most famous of all, to find the perfect card to express your deepest feelings to the ones who have been on your mind forever.
Welcome to yet another tradition of the Victorian era that lasted from the 1840s to the 1940s.
That's right, for the price of only a penny, you could send scathing 'valentines' to the people you felt deserved it. Some friends took advantage of this to send joking cuts to their fellows. Most Victorians took it a bit more seriously however.
The nicknamed 'vinegar valentines' were usually printed like postcards, single-side on cheap paper and could be sent through the mail. There were occasions when a postmaster or mail carrier would refuse to deliver them but that was rare.
Anyone that didn't fit into society's expectations of the time was subject to them, bullying through the mail long before doing it online was available.
Granted, sending the valentines was often considered outside of polite society too, so most of these cards were sent anonymously. One would hate to get a 'valentine' of their own for being catty.
Eventually, the tradition fell out of favor and then out of the public's memory. These days any salty valentines we send to our friends are usually done in good humor.
The anonymous ridicule is saved for online.
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