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artful-aries · 1 year

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Can I please have possessive/jealousy headcanons for scaramoche dottore zhongli Childe and pantalone? Thank you in advance 🤗

I am not dead everyone!!! Mother’s Day and TOTK releasing this weekend have me hella preoccupied. Anyway, I’ve actually already done this for Zhongli and Childe, but I did the other three!!

Content Warnings: Dottore’s section is pretty manipulative and unhealthy, this is your warning.

When They Are Jealous (Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone)

Dottore:

This man is very possessive at all times, even when he’s in a good mood. He doesn’t get jealous, that would require him to think he might not measure up to others, but he definitely does not take kindly to others thinking they can have access to you

Would not hesitate to cut someone’s eyes out if they stared at you for too long, and likely would find some use for them in his various experiments

Dottore sees you as an extension of himself, or more accurately, one of his possessions. He is far too prideful to let any mediocre being come close to thinking they could even speak to you without him allowing it

This results in your borderline isolation from anyone who isn’t Dottore (with a few exceptions, such as the Harbingers). You tell him that you feel lonely? Too bad. He’s not going to budge on this. You’re his, and not just anyone can speak to you or lay eyes on you

It doesn’t take much to make the Doctor jealous; simply disrespect his wishes and talk to a random Fatui agent, or even just a Snezhnayan merchant, and you’ll have him scowling underneath his mask as he watches you. He knows exactly what you’re doing, and doesn’t like it one bit

What he does entirely depends on his mood; He will either lay a chilling hand on your shoulder and ask you to speak to him privately, or if he is in a foul mood, he likely wouldn’t hesitate to maim or kill the other person on the spot.

Don’t think you’ve escaped punishment either, you’re just as much of a guilty party in this as they were. Dottore isn’t going to kill you or disfigure you, no, he is going to opt for a more psychological punishment for you

Nothing makes people more desperate and malleable than a lack of affection, so he will actively withhold any affection until you’re begging for forgiveness and for him to give you an ounce of attention

Is it manipulative? Absolutely, but Dottore doesn’t care. This gets him the results he wants and enables him to observe how you behave under emotional and psychological stress. He likes to see just how long you can last before you’re caving to him

Should you go out of your way to make him jealous by being too friendly with another Harbinger, you’ll have him seething, but this just makes things worse for you since he can’t take out his frustration on the other Harbingers though he does briefly consider baiting Childe into a fight once he sees you hanging off of the man��s arm

Dottore would scoop you up immediately without a word, carrying you into his lab where he plans to have a very stern “talk” with you about not throwing yourself at the nearest person when you want attention from him

There are very rare occasions where he will “let” you do as you please, flirting and getting touchy with anyone and everyone just to make him jealous, but he uses this as an opportunity to study you and your actions. While the behavior irks him, there is valuable data to be collected in allowing it to happen. Once his data collection is complete, he’s ready to punish you for trying to provoke him despite the benefit he received out of your antics

Scaramouche:

Another one to easily get jealous, he will turn into the biggest brat alive over the simplest things. You could greet someone cheerfully because you’re in a good mood and he will immediately have a snide remark to say about it

Whether you intentionally made him jealous or not, it doesn’t matter. He’s going to have an attitude with you no matter what

Scaramouche just doesn’t have it in him to be upfront about the fact that he’s upset, or communicate why he is upset. You’ll have to deal with him being cold and distant aside from his rude comments until he eventually gets over it himself or you piece together what his problem is

When you do confront him, he will adamantly deny that he was ever jealous, “What am I, your keeper? Do what you want.”

Yet it’s very clear by the permanent scowl on his face that Scaramouche doesn’t want you to do what you want. He’d never admit it, but he wants your focus on him and only him, he wants your unwavering devotion. It makes him feel like his existence is validated

The most you’d be able to pull out of him is what made him cranky in the first place, but his admittance is indignant and dismissive. Part of him just wants to stay mad because deep down he feels like this is just you getting ready to betray him. He’s been burned too many times and has a lot of trust issues

When you reassure him that your earlier actions held no underlying meaning and that you aren’t going to abandon him, Scaramouche’s expression will not change; however, there will be a slight release of tension in his shoulders. He’s not completely relieved, but it’s enough to get him to stop being entirely unpleasant

For a little while after his initial withdrawal, he’s going to stick uncharacteristically close to you, almost as though he is making sure that you’re true to your word

Again, he would never admit this, but in reality Scaramouche just wants to be in your comforting presence for a while

If you were to ask him why he’s hanging around so much all of the sudden, he will lie through his teeth and just say he was bored or just happened to have extra time on his hands. Even if you tease him about it, he will never admit just how much he enjoys your presence

He also makes sure to cut off and interrupt anyone that tries talking to you when he’s with you. They’re cutting into his time with you, and he won’t hesitate to be rude as hell in order to get them to go away

Pantalone:

He is a difficult man to make jealous; he is incredibly confident in himself, to the point that he doesn’t view most people as competition

If he were to get jealous, it would likely be you giving attention to the other Harbingers, especially a Vision bearer

Pantalone would freeze for a moment at the scene, his eyes narrowing as he takes in how you interact with them. The sight alone made his stomach churn a little bit. He doesn’t think he is beneath them, but he can’t help but wonder if there’s a part of you that prefers the power that Visions bring, something that he can’t buy with his wealth

He will saunter up to you and place a hand on your shoulder; not threateningly, but just to remind you of his presence as he works his way into the conversation. Though he doesn’t have much patience and finds a way to politely end it soon after joining. He’s got a lot that he wants to say to you in private, gently pulling you away

Once you’re alone, he smiled sweetly at you, but there’s an edge to it as he asks you why you were paying so much attention to another person rather than him

He’s not outright threatening you, and he doesn’t intend to hurt you physically because of his own jealousy, but his tone indicates that you need to choose your words carefully

If you explain yourself and say that you were just being friendly, Pantalone will happily drop the subject, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you walk together. He knew he was good enough for you, but liked the reassurance that you weren’t seeking more than he could provide

If you were to admit that you were actively trying to make him jealous, then he would give a small chuckle at your response. You wanted to make him jealous? Well, mission accomplished, but now were you prepared to deal with the consequences?

He’ll pull you to his office, not explaining himself as he locks the door. He intends to remind you of just how much he has to offer, and how you won’t be happy with anyone else, even if they were blessed by the gods

Pantalone is possessive by nature, wanting anything and everything his heart desires, you included. He’s spent too long working for his wealth to fall short with you

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin imagine #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanon #genshin impact imagine #Dottore #dottore x reader #Scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #Pantalone #pantalone x reader

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only-omo · 3 months

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characters who "dont wet".

and by that i mean characters who always have enough bladder control that even when they are past their limit and urine is slowly dribbling down their legs, thats all it ever is. no forceful wetting, no "loss of control", not completely. just leaking every few minutes until they can hold it again. sometimes big leaks that immediately give them away (or dont, but now they cant move without being caught so), throwing those around them into a panic; sometimes smaller leaks that are easier to hide in terms of damage, but so much harder in terms of the strain it puts on their bladder to only let out so little

and it really is something special, because it can get to a point where their pants are notably soaked to the hems, maybe even a small puddle or two depending on if theyve been walking around, and theyre still squirming like mad, or trying not to, because this is damage that happened over the course of nearly an hour or more.

eventually if theyre with people someones gonna ask why they dont just give up already, theyve already fully wet themselves in terms of damage, and doing it this way is really doing nothing but causing way more damage than necessary. because at this point even if they wanted to hide it still - i mean, it is horribly embarrasing to consistently wet yourself over the span of an hour (or more) i think - its painfully obvious every time they leak, their clothes too soaked to absorb it quick enough, unavoidably leading to small-to-incredibly-messy puddles each time.

whether theyre able to answer the person or just stutter and get out not much more than "i dont know", they cant bring themselves to intentionally stop holding, despite the risks, and the only way to fully empty their bladder not at a toilet would be to intentionally choose to wet. so they keep "holding".

from here it will go one of two ways, either they finally get access to a bathroom, where they will likely suffer latch-key incontinence and finally fully lose control on the way from the door to the toilet, likely not able to do anything but maybe sit down to try to minimize mess, otherwise just staring as urine re-soaks their pants and gathers on the floor underneath them (and its obvious they re-wet, so they cant pretend they made it, potentially leading to comments from someone about why they bothered so hard just to not make it anyway, to their utter embarrassment). or they dont find a bathroom, and theres nothing they can do but keep trying to hold it.

now i know from experience that around this point you really do start to feel sick, but its in an exhilaratingly horrible way. your body starts to fight itself to the point where it actually changes your thought pattern. and not in the typical "ohmygodohmygodineedtopee" type of way that some people arent susceptible to, but in a strange way where the most logical thing in existence at that moment is that they should not be holding their pee, regardless of location, as if societal standards didnt exist, as if it truly didnt matter where they peed or what they were wearing when they did it. the way their bladder is so confused it cant do much but dully ache, no longer sharp or threatening leaks, but still the most pressing thing on their mind.

their bladder will actually shut their brain down, reverting them to basic instinct, and theres a good chance at some point their bladder will contract, and the only thing they can physically do is not only just let it out, but actively push it out as hard as they can, and if they could think it would feel intentional, the way their muscles are locked forcefully contracting as if almost by choice, completely negating the previous struggle of eventually regaining control; but they arent thinking, and that choice is more "dont die" than it is "wet myself".

obviously, its messy. its messy and its sudden, as they likely started to go despondent as the sickly feeling hit. its sudden, and its messy, and its loud. theyre not only just wetting themself, but pushing as if the urine was burning their bladder, and they have to get it out (not too far from the truth). trying not only to get out every last drop, but to get out the last drop as soon as possible. and there isnt any relief until a good minute or so after they finish, so theyre wetting with that full force, as if their bladder were still full, the entire time - which is likely a good minute or two, as despite everything theyve lost until now, their bladder was still mostly full - until it suddenly cuts off. it will get everywhere, and itll have everyones attention, and then itll be silent, aside from the light pattering of stray urine that hasnt yet reached the floor.

the most common response would likely be speechlessness, people arent used to bladders that can cause that much of an issue, even incontinent people usually just wet and get it over with.

and the wetters brain will only kick back on after theyre empty, though still in an almost daze of all the sensations and emotions. theyve been sitting in their slowly growing shame for at least an hour at this point so the social repercussions arent really hitting them (though they definitely will as the adrenaline drops), and theyre mostly focused on the stressful feeling of knowing that this must be horribly unhealthy, to end up feeling that way, and to just be primarily aware of the fact that they just totally pissed themself; more than they are anything that means, aside from that theyre soaked.

#omoclean #omorashi #fictomo #omo prompts #lowkey me

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fiercynn · 10 months

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you know what’s fucking wild? when @end-otw-racism’s first action started in may, they were incredibly clear that they had narrow and specific demands for the otw, and that their demands were commitments the otw had already made. if you need a refresher, here are their demands:

Harassment policies that can be regularly updated to address both on-site harassment and off-site coordinated harassment of AO3 users, with updated protocols for the Policy & Abuse Team to ensure consistent and informed resolutions of abuse claims

A content policy on abusive (extremely racist and extremely bigoted) content; by abusive, we are talking about fanworks that are intentionally used to spread hate and harassment, not those that accidentally invoke racist or other bigoted stereotypes

Hiring a Diversity Consultant within the next 3-6 months

Committing to a policy of transparency on this topic, with quarterly updates on the progress of these projects including challenges and their plan for overcoming those challenges. These quarterly updates should be published on OTW News page and newsletters, not solely discussed in Board meetings

and despite the fact that these were taken specifically from the otw’s own commitments, a lot of people immediately decided that this was an overreach on the campaign’s part. they fabricated supposed secret agendas that the campaign must have; they invoked slippery slope fallacies to say that this would lead to mass content removal for anything on ao3 that even skimmed the line of racism; they claimed to know who was leading the campaign and tried to discredit the campaign based on that, because they claimed that those people had larger agendas.

despite all of that, otw themselves came out reaffirming their commitment to these priorities. which is great, but that was not the end of the work, because those commitments were made by the existing board, which is about to turn over in the upcoming board elections. it's essential to hold the incoming board accountable to the previous board's commitments.

but when @end-otw-racism’s second action around otw board elections has continued to keep those specific, clear demands in their focus, they’re getting hounded for it from the other side: by people claiming that this analysis they did of the otw board candidates – in which eotwr made it clear that they were looking at whether the candidates talked about any of the eotwr demands or not – was racist for not counting the work asian candidates raised around reaching out to non-western and non-english speaking fans as fulfilling eotwr’s demands.

(which, let’s be clear, they don’t! issues around access for non-western and non-anglophone fans, around the way chinese and chinese diaspora volunteers have been mistreated by otw, around translation, are all worthy issues to be pushing on. eotwr has even uplifted some of them. but they are separate from eotwr's core demands.)

so first eotwr is overreaching and trying to bring down every fanwork that could be even slightly misconstrued as racist, even though they’ve always been clear about their narrow and specific goals…and now they’re racist for not addressing every form of racism, even though they’ve always been clear about their narrow and specific goals?

it is completely valid for eotwr to look at the board candidates’ platforms and say “they did not mention these things that we are looking for”, because the things that eotwr is looking for are commitments otw has already made. it is not eotwr picking out certain “keywords” that they’d like to see – they are looking at whether potential incoming board members are prioritizing those specific commitments and will uphold them. and otw has had those commitments for three years! this is not new stuff!

also, if you read that analysis again, eotwr is not even criticizing the candidates for not mentioning their demands! they are simply pointing out what we can glean about the candidates from their platforms and bios, because the platforms are the main information we have about the board candidates right now. eotwr has been incredibly clear that they want to talk to candidates and learn more about their priorities. they've also been clear in urging other people to come up with their own analyses of the board candidates, and they have in fact reblogged and uplifted other people’s perspectives on the candidates.

i cannot stress enough that we need more folks in this space to be pushing on anti-racism, and eotwr having a narrow scope is not a bad thing. there is endless work to be done, and others who disagree with eotwr’s tactics should start their own campaigns! eotwr literally only started like two months ago with a call to action. it’s very possible to emulate them and push for parallel priorities.

advocacy work also needs groups with different tactics and approaches. my day job is in climate change advocacy, and we do our most effect work when multiple organizations are representing different perspectives and pushing in different ways. i'd love to see that kind of advocacy ecosystem built up in fandom.

but right now, eotwr is the only campaign i know of trying to do large-scale anti-racism work around otw at all. and to actively push against the campaign because you think it’s racist to focus on specific goals and gently critique board candidates based only on those specific goals? is, i'm sorry, fucking ridiculous.

#end otw racism #otw #organization for transformative works #endotwracism #eotwr #archive of our own #ao3 #fandom racism

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necronatural · 2 months

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how come you're a "Dante was never real and is a construct made by Angela" truther? idk nothing about that theory or why it's supported by dante's (heh) meltdown

It's not just the meltdown, it's the specificity of their rescue of aeng-du and the kind of lore we're getting.

dante is instructed to extract someone for information.

dante comes across aeng-du and identifies her as the person they need based on "gut feeling". they do reason that the basis is of their feeling is because of how the company tends to set them up, so the way my thoughts switch hard on this was a conspiracy theorist brain pretzel. My thinking is that they identified her because she was a book in the library, and it's why Dante specifically should be the one to pick her up.

aeng-du explains 2 things: the library and the location of kim. because limbus company already had information on kim, they wanted her extracted to get a firsthand account of the library.

iori was the one who suggested the distortion-centric fixer company, yet she is presumably the one who sent those people to kill dante, the presumed manager of a division of that very company. what gives? (my previous theory was that they stole a branch from her. <- LOL)

until this point it was kind of self-evident that the branch is giving dante freaky spacetime powers due to direct access to the Light. but we witness dante having a full-on meltdown. One thing that stuck out to me is the mundanity of it. The cast has either an intimate or a superficial understanding of everything Dante is saying. So why is it important? It isn't a crazy word slurry.

It sounds like they're reciting an eroded text.

And finally, the end of the story update, Vergilius mentions offhand that he himself is waiting for the lore drop; he is depending purely on Faust, who seems singularly responsible for the LCB, and what info she's deigning to give.

Overall, the update was about the mechanics of Limbus Company, from Acquisitions to After to Distortions, and what they prioritize; Distortions and information on the Library, which is the cause of distortions.

Conclusion?

Dante is a construct made by Angela. Constructs cannot leave the Library, but they are being artificially sustained by the Light present within the branch. They're a construct of a separate person, and the facsimile deteriorated due to the improper use of ■■■. The rewinding death function is also the core gameplay loop of Ruina; Dante is using that same process on their own crew. They resemble the Outskirts clock monsters intentionally; Faust - who is dropping anvil sized hints about being an ex-lobcorp employee - is a Librarian, and witnessed these monsters personally. Iori doesn't want Dante doing anything too crazy because they aren't real; there are not a wide array of universes where they exist. She would know them exclusively in terms of the purpose they were built for. This significantly thins the avenues of attack, and Vergilius would put a lot of faith in that, even if he's never been told why the fuck Dante is a free radical and is kind of annoyed and confused this is who he's working with.

I don't think this is a theory that explains everything, or even most things; who was Dante made out of (carmen without a doubt funniest possible option), what is ■■■ (may be library/도서관), what is the "aspect" Dante is trying to carve, how this helps the library, all of that is very ????. But isn't the tension delicious when you think about it that way.

#asks #limbus company

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samble-moved · 1 year

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i hate the fandom idea that homura's actions (especially during rebellion) are out of a place of total selfishness, or homura just "not letting go" or because she's evil.

did everyone forget that madoka, while dying, begged homura to keep looping to make sure madoka didn't become a magical girl? homura had already seemingly looped several times before, and madoka all but asked her to keep going to save her from her fate. albeit, madoka was likely not thinking clearly about this, and obviously wasn't asking to be cruel or to "hurt" homura by continuing the cycle, but the idea that "homura only loops because she's selfish and evil and wants madoka to stay human because she's selfish and evil" is literally not true at all in canon. madoka asks homura to make sure she (madoka) doesn't contract, and all but asks her to loop again and again until that happens. obviously this is something homura wants to do (since human madoka = safe from the fate worse than death magical girls get), but the concept that it's only homura's desire, that madoka never asked for this, is false canonically.

and the idea in rebellion that homura is intentionally acting against madoka's wants and "forcing" her to be human and seperate from the LoC ties into this as well. for one, homura 100% genuinely believes that madoka regrets her wish. madoka (while not having all her memories) says she could never do what she did as a goddess — that is, leave all her friends and family behind, erase herself from existence, etc. and after this, homura then 1) believes her, and 2) blames this perceived misery madoka felt as a goddess on herself (iirc, she says something like "if those are your true feelings, then what a terrible mistake i've made").

she blames herself for "letting" madoka contract, thinking madoka was miserable, thinking she once again committed a grave sin by "breaking her promise" to madoka by letting her contract. remember, the reason the looping seemed to continue on for so long in the first place is that madoka begged homura as she was dying to make sure she didn't contract. homura had been ready to die, along madoka's side. and madoka, as any fourteen year old would, wanted to keep it from happening again.

then rebellion kicks in, and homura (in her despairing state) thinks that not only 1) she has betrayed her promise to madoka by letting her contract in the first place, and 2) that madoka is horribly lonely and miserable after the contract/wish was granted. she 100% whole heartedly believes this, and also believes the only way she can fulfill the promise and protect madoka from kyubey is to rip her from goddesshood.

kyubey openly said in rebellion the whole reason homura is in the isolation field is because he's using her to get to madoka. he can't prove the LoC exists, only homura knows who madoka is, so they can eventually control madoka/the LoC by having her save homura. homura is put in a spot where she can't really even let madoka save her, because that gives kyubey access to seeing madoka, which can lead to him controlling her. and even if he doesn't get madoka that time, there's always a chance he could try this isolation field trick with any other magical girl, possibly even another one of madoka's friends, since the LoC wouldn't just willingly ignore a magical girl despairing. and he has all the time in the world to work on getting control of the LoC/madoka (an incomprehensible amount of it), provided entropy doesn't accelerate, and his species is both determined and much more advanced than humans.

homura doesn't do it because she's bored or evil or For Fun or because she's a "yandere" or whatever the hell else some people claim. she unequivocally thinks it's what madoka wants, and that it's the only way she can keep madoka from being controlled and hurt by kyubey, once again echoing back to the promise made in an earlier timeline ("can you go back in time and make sure i don't get tricked by kyubey?").

#pmmm #madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #homura akemi #essays #not as well written though..

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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 year

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Blood Washed Away

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> You first met Peña when you transferred to Columbia with Messina. You made friends with Agent Javier Peña but what happens when you join his team and he discovers he almost loses you?

Disclaimer: Angst, descriptions of blood, bruises, fire (although not too deep). Sprinkling of fluff, mostly takes place in season 2 and season 3. Does not have too much with the main plots of Narcos other than mentions of the Cali cartel and Escobar. No particular time line. A made up case (Robbins). Angst background. Co-workers to friends to potentially more. {If any of this is triggering to you, please do not read on - this is your warning}

You first met Peña when you transferred with Messina. You had been her secretary at the time although you did have experience in the field. That was what was most shocking to Peña and Murphy at the time. This woman, who walked past them every day, stamping files and organising meetings whilst the hem of her skirt breezed around her knees and her heels clicked against the cold floor, had been one of the best agents in the FBI.

You had started out at a small precinct before moving into Major Crimes. From there, you climbed the career pole. There weren't many people like yourself; a woman. But you proved yourself. Your bosses, although male, saw your potential and saw you more than just an object of desire. Their bosses, however, didn’t. But after they watched you take down three of their ‘best’ men, they thought it over again.

You had found yourself as Messina’s secretary a year and half before the transfer to Columbia. And after spending the next year or more in Columbia, you were itching to get back in.

You were a good cop. And, for what it was worth, you liked your job. You didn’t know how much longer you could take staring at files and seeing people rush around you, ignoring some of the other cases.

So, on Peña’s first day hunting the Cali cartel, he was more than surprised to find you already at your desk and not in your usual blouse, skirt and heels combo. Rather, you were dressed in boots, dark jeans and a shirt.

Somehow, it was the same words, just different font.

Peña called your name as he saw you, a stack of files in your hands, open.

“Why aren’t you with Messina?”

“New job. Figured you could use a friendly face.” You smiled, closing the files in your hand before handing them over. “Couple calls came over the radio this morning.”

This was when Peña spotted the licenced gun attached to your hip.

He’d never seen you with one, let alone touch you.

“You’re an Agent?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“No, no. Just…surprised. When did you…”

Peña didn’t know what to ask first. Get training? Get a gun? Join the DEA? Quit being a secretary?

You smiled softly. “I was a Fed before I quit and became a secretary. But, I wanted back in. The board allowed it and here I am.”

“To babysit me?”

“No, well…not intentionally.”

The next few months were tough but having you by his side, knowing that there was someone to turn to when he didn’t exactly know which call to make…made it easier.

You had become friendly back in Bogotá. Of course, he tried flirting at first but that was quickly shut down when you told him all he needed to do was ask.

Of course, some things couldn’t be pulled without Messina’s approval but since everyone had been desperate for the capture of Escobar that it was truly only highly classified information that couldn’t be accessed.

Over the course of your stay in Columbia, under Peña’s ruling, you had both grown closer. You trusted each other and, eventually, one night as you both sat in his office having a drink, he felt comfortable enough to ask you why you had left the FBI.

“You haven’t looked at my file?”

Peña shook his head as he took another drink. “Didn’t seem fair.”

“You're my boss.” You pointed out.

“Technically.”

You sighed, looking at your honey-coloured liquor.

“Messina mentioned something about Seattle. You'd be transferred.”

You nodded. “I wanted out. I’d been leading a case and it had been going on for months. It felt like every time we got close, we were further than when we’d started.”

Peña knew a thing or two about that.

“Anyway, we tracked the guy to Seattle. He’d been going from state to state until finally he came right under our noses. Anyway…”

The memories came back to you for a moment, but Peña waited for you to continue.

“Anyway, it turned out it had been an inside job. What we thought was just five bodies, turns out - it was closer to 25.”

Peña thought about it for a moment after the initial shock. The case sounded familiar to him.

Then it hit him.

“Robbins.”

You nodded.

The case had been all over the news. How bodies were covered up by a Fed. How the murderer, Robbins, had gotten away with it for so long because he was the ME on the job.

“But the officer-“ Peña paused.

It had just been a rumour in the media but nothing was ever confirmed. Most of the public had taken it as the truth.

“I needed out of the game for a while,” you told him. “And the agency needed to make sure there was no one else in the office working on the case.”

“So how did you end up with Messina?”

“Friend of a friend.” You told him. “She was looking for a secretary and I had taken a couple classes back in college. Plus, I came ready trained. I got the job and didn’t look back.”

“But now you’re back in.”

You nodded. “But now I’m back in.” You raised your glass in the air and Peña followed suit. “To the game, may we beat these bastards before they beat us.”

“Ditto.”

Both you and Peña downed the rest of your drinks and eventually, you both went home. It had been a long week and you both needed a break.

A few months passed by before shit took a turn.

Of course, there were plenty of dangers that came with the job. The main one was putting your life on the line and in the clear to be shot. Or worse.

But maybe that was just the job. Risk your life for others so others don’t have to. So this game can be over before the bastards get you.

You had been with a witness. They’d been one of the people who could get you to the Cali men. But-

Sat in his office, Peña kept his eyes trained on the case files in front of him. Was the pile actually growing bigger?

He took a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. He shuffled some of the remaining papers as he stood before walking over to his file cabinets in his office.

For a moment, he thought he heard his name called but everyone had already gone home to their families or their beds.

But when the voice sounded closer, although still as quiet, he looked over his left shoulder and did a double take. Or maybe his eyes were registering to the sight of red.

You were covered in red. He couldn’t tell whether it was yours or somebody else’s. Dirt was under your nails and you had gravel scars across your palms. There was a small hole in the knee of your jeans. Where you had empty spots of blood, ash covered them.

Your name escaped his lips before his mind could even register it was you.

You raised your hand a little bit then you saw the blood and the dirt and the scars. A whimper escaped your lips before you looked at Peña.

“I- I went to a farm when I was a kid and- and I saw them slaughter a- a pig. There- there was s-s-s so much,” you swallowed thickly, “blood. B-but I-I-I didn’t - others were scared but I-I - it was natural. A girl- I forget her name but she-she fainted. They-they went down like bricks. There-there was just - blood. I didn’t- I didn’t expect- and I’ve seen people-“

Peña’s hands gripped your face, causing you to look at him. Your voice was unsteady, your whole body was shaking either from panic, adrenaline or fear. Maybe all of the above.

Whilst you had been talking, Peña had been checking you over. Some of the blood was yours but you were alive. Alive and terrified. Alive, terrified and shaking. He needed to calm you down.

“Hey!” you went silent as you registered him in front of you. “Hey, look at me. What happened?”

“They knew where we were. They- I should have seen them.”

That was when another agent, less covered in blood, but still the similar look of fear on his face, ran inside.

“Stay here.”

“N-No. Don’t leave.”

Peña looked at you, his eyes, as much as he tried to hide it, held nothing but sadness and sorrow. He’d seen you deal with all the assholes and he’d heard stories. You were always brave. You were always the one there for him. The one who would come in when he had spent too much time letting the job get to him, physically pull the papers away from him, pick him from his chair and push him out of his office.

“Just because you’re doing stuff by the book this time does not equal burning yourself out. Come on, we’re getting drinks. Or food. Whichever one is open.” You would tell him. You’d grab his jacket from the hanger and lock his office behind him. You talk the case over with him. And, even if it was half way through the meal and 2 in the morning, you’d go with him when he solved something.

“Alright, let’s go,” you’d reply.

But seeing you like this…his heart broke.

“I’ll be there. I’m not leaving you.”

You nodded, seeing where he was pointing and let go of his arm. Slowly, he walked over to the other agent, however his eyes still went back to you as he did so and as he continued to talk to the agent in front of him.

“The medics, they wanted to keep her there but she didn’t want to stay. She needs a hospital but she wanted to find you first. She told me to wait but the medics-”

“Okay, just…leave the bag. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

The agent nodded, dropping the bag by the table. “Do you know what happened?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

“Well, find out. I want to know everything. Do you know who’s making the calls to family?”

He mentioned a couple other agents but some of the members who were left, Peña said he’d cover them.

“We’re still trying to find addresses and numbers but once I’ve got them, I’ll drop them by your desk.”

“Right, okay.”

After that, the agent left. Peña picked up the medical bag before walking back to his office. You stood in the same spot, examining your hands. It was like it was still happening. You were seeing the car behind you tailing, then the lights and the sound before the car tipped. You were pulling yourself out before helping your informant. The driver was already gone. Your head was spinning. You helped them stand and then- blood splatter. Bullets. Your witness was dead. There was fire everywhere, bullets flying back and forth. You emptied your canister but you couldn’t remember why, just yet.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked at Peña.

With gentle movements, he helped you sit down before he pulled out a chair for himself and opened up the bag. You were mostly silent as he cleaned at your open wounds. You’d need a hospital to examine your head and make sure you don’t have a concussion, though both of you knew you probably did. And whiplash.

The cuts didn’t seem too deep but he cleaned them out as best as he could. Over the slightly deeper one’s he placed a gause and some tape. He couldn’t get all the blood off you. You’d need a shower.

“Let me take you home.”

You gave no protest. Just, taking his hand in yours, he helped you stand.

After leaving the office, you don’t remember much of the ride. The smell of burning tires still hadn’t left your nostrils and you were fearful it never would. It was as if you could still feel the heat on your face from the fire.

Javier helped you into your apartment, locking the door behind you. And he helped you throughout the night.

You trusted him as he did so.

His hands were gentle as he helped you undress from the blood soaked clothing. It had left its stains against your skin. By the time Javier helped you into the shower, he watched as the stains fell into the shower drain, but there was still some reddening around your body.

Bruises.

Gently, he pushed your head under the water, letting the water run through your hair, the ash from the smoke now following the blood.

He looked around for a moment before catching your eyes. It was silent communication. You had already silently said it was okay for him to help you undress and get into the shower, and now you were saying yes for him to help you some more.

It was a little awkward at first. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. So, with care, he massaged shampoo through your hair, being sure to not let it drip onto your face though you didn’t care. In that moment, you were numb. Numb from the blood and from the explosion. Maybe a little pain is what you needed to remind yourself that you were alive and human.

You scrubbed yourself down as best as you could, the bruising still tender across all of your body.

Stepping away from the shower, Peña pulled the soft and warm towel from the radiator before holding it out. You stepped out of your shower and allowed him to wrap it around you.

He didn’t care that your hair was still wet, although thankfully now clean. He didn’t care if his shirt was wet or his arms still had bubbles from the shampoo that had splashed across him. All he cared about in that moment was you.

You were safe. In his arms, you were alive and you were safe.

He held you close to him. Your face lay against his chest and his arms came around you to just hold you. He placed three kisses on top of your head, one to your temple, one a little higher and the final on top of your head. His hand held the back of your head whilst the other went straight across your back. He pressed you a little closer.

Resting his chin on top of your head, he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the moment soak in. He could have lost you tonight. He could have never seen you again and never have been able to hold you as he was in that moment.

Neither of you knew how much time had passed before he helped you squeeze the last drops of water from your hair and left you in your room to change into your clean clothes. But, some of it felt too long. Like when he wasn’t with you.

But, by the time you stepped out of your room, your bare feet padding across the floor and into your kitchen, you found him standing there. He was wearing a fresh pair of clothes. You knew he kept a spare set in his car.

“Here,” Javier pulled out a chair from your kitchen-side island, “sit down.”

You nodded, thanking him quietly. “Are you cooking?”

He looked from the pan, to you and back again. “Oh, yeah.”

“Didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well, don’t say that yet. This might be bad.”

He was making frittata from what you could see. It didn’t look too bad.

“Thank you,” you finally managed to get out. You’d been thanking him the whole night, in your head at least. But…saying it out loud opened the gates to you talking about what happened. But it was inevitable. “for helping me. I- I don’t know-”

Javier shook his head. “Don’t thank me. I might…I might be your boss but I’m also your friend. I was your friend before I was your boss.”

You nodded.

“You should drink something, before you dehydrate.”

You nodded and before you could move, he already placed a glass of cold water in front of you. You thanked him again.

“Plates?”

“Top cupboard, to your left.”

Javier looked up before opening the cupboard to find a stack of plates, bowls and pasta dishes. He pulled two plates out before halving the dish and sliding the pieces from the pan and onto the plates.

After that, he placed a plate in front of you before handing you a fork.

“Don’t judge me too harshly.”

You took the fork from him with contemplation. But, as you took a bite, you looked back at him.

“You can cook.”

Javi smiled back at you when your mouth curved a little before you went back to eating. Minutes passed by and neither of you said a word. You could both hear the noises of the outside streets from the window. Some people were still awake, others were in bed asleep.

But, as the more time passed, the more you felt the adrenaline die down. You also found yourself talking about it all to Peña before you’d go to sleep and forget some aspect.

“It can wait until tomorrow-”

“No, I- I want to tell you before-” before you dreamt of it when you fell asleep? Before you woke up and it turned out you never made it to the office? Before you realized none of it was real and you hadn’t made it out of the car in the first place?

So, you told him everything you could remember. You’d checked all the mirrors, every 15 seconds. You looked around the buildings every 40. There had been no one.

Until there were multiple.

“It’s not your fault,” Javier told you. “You did your job.”

“But I should have- I should have known.”

“They got us this time, but we’ll get them. Sooner or later, we’ll get them.”

Not too long after that, Javier helped you towards your bedroom once more before making sure you were in bed. Except, before he could leave, you grabbed his hand.

He stayed with you that night, laying beside you. He watched your hand squeeze his back as he took your hand back in his. He tailed his eyes from your hand, up your body to where you were breathing, to your neck. Though he couldn’t see the pulse, he wanted to make sure it was still there, and finally to your sleeping face. You looked so calm. So at peace.

It was going to be tough, he knew that. But, he couldn’t think of anything else other than you in that moment. How, the difference between the shooter's bullet would be the difference between him lying by your side, watching you breath in your sleep and watching your body be rolled away by the coroner to be examined. He doesn’t do funerals, but yours - in Columbia - would be the exception.

But he didn’t want to think of that. He couldn’t think of that.

All that mattered was that you were alive, and you were safe and you were with him, beside him.

One way or another, he’d get the bastards and he’d be sure to get them before they got him and definitely before they got you.

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mahoushojo-chan · 6 months

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headcanons on the Cazador spawn family

because i had to write the family into my fanfiction, i spent a good hour in the szarr manor just scrounging for details.

additional credits to this redditor who helped get me started. i won't be going over the details that they already succinctly summarized, i'll only go over my extrapolations

tw: mentions of SA, ptsd, and all the gory details you'd expect from astarion's personal quest. and spoilers, of course.

Cazador Szarr:

in many ways, i want to write cazador as astarion's foil, and someone who has very similar views to an ascended astarion, even if he has a relatively different personality. i saw him as someone more introverted and calculated than our hedonistic, in-the-moment ally, but they are joined in the sense that both of them are intentionally cruel to others and possessive over what is theirs. i also wrote him as a necromancer wizard. just seemed to fit.

one thing that seemed to stump many is why there were only seven spawn that cazador kept, but seven thousand he could have chosen from. my theory is this: cazador was truly trying to build some semblance of family, as fcked up as it became. i also don't think that he ended up seeing them as family, and that his viewpoint constantly changed between seeing them as family, lovers, and slaves/tools for his own pleasure. astarion truly loved you before he ascended, and in the same vein, i imagine cazador had an innocent wish as a spawn, or even as a human: he wanted to be a father or a lover, apparently to a large family. this frames how i view the 'siblings'.

Leon Onufrio:

the only spawn with a last name, oddly enough. astarion says that he was 'one of (Cazador's) firsts', which led me to believe there must have been at least one before. i wrote leon to be his first. this makes sense for cazador's first spawn, since cazador seemingly has an affinity towards pretty men. it made sense to me that he could lure in a human with the false promise of eternity, and that he would choose one who seemed responsible and kind for his first 'son'. he is the only one with a daughter, and the only one with limited access to magic. he also seems to understand cazador well, being the first to realize that astarion is right to believe in cazador's cruelty over their false promise of freedom. i imagine cazador would have wanted him to play the role of a 'responsible older brother', and allow him the most independence. the first to have a child, the top hunter, the role model. amongst the spawn, he is the golden child, aka just had the most time to adapt to cazador's ways and go towards people pleasing. and due to his role, cazador allows him to play this.

i wrote him as a shadow magic sorcerer, because we know he is canonically a sorcerer and that he managed to place a necrotic curse on his daughter's blood, in case anyone would go after her. shadow magic seemed fitting for a vampire. it seemed like the type that would attract cazador.

I know that canonically there's a likelihood that he was the last spawn that cazador took in, and he had to take victoria with him and had to be in a position to actually mpregnate someone, but i just wrote it such that he managed to do so while he was a spawn... which is possible, astarion fans... it is possible...

Astarion Ancunin:

canonically astarion's one of cazador's firsts, and i chose to make him the second. i figured if i were an evil, narcissistic asshole playing 'house' with a son, artistically, a cain-and-abel dynamic with an 'ideal' older son and a resentful, evil younger brother. it is also known that astarion was rebellious, and cazador took specific glee in punishing him. that's right, according to this theory: astarion was always built to fail. he was always made to be punished in his role, regardless of what he did. he was meant to be broken over and over again, but not broken enough to stop rebelling entirely, because this would mean that he didn't fit his role well enough. he would be punished according to his role, because you could not be too rebellious, but then he could also be punished if he did not rebel enough, because then he wouldn't suit cazador's cruel playacting. he is the 'rebellious second-born'.

using the bg3 canon, astarion is an arcane trickster. i write him as a thief, never quite having enough time or wanting to put enough effort on honing his magical ability, moreso focusing on surviving.

Dalyria:

the rest of the spawn get a little more difficult, as less and less of them are known. we know dalyria was a physician, she cares about astarion, and she killed leon's daughter to try and discover a 'cure' to their vampirism. i just wanted to write her in relation to the others as a "mature and elegant older sister". one who genuinely has other people's best interests at heart. i also wanted to keep in mind the doctor's hippocratic oath and how that may have degraded and suffered from cognitive dissonance under years of abject torture, especially with what she ended up doing to victoria.

as it stands, there actually is a 'physician's touch' feat in dungeons and dragons, under the monk: way of mercy subclass.

Aurelia:

personally, i thought aurelia was really cute. she's also the only tiefling in cazador's coterie. continuing with the pattern, i thought perhaps cazador could also think so: she plays the role of the 'cute, anxious younger sister' that needs to be coddled a bit. she allows the hope of freedom to be dangled in her face.

in my hypothetical, she was innocent and it was probably easy for cazador to lure her in. perhaps she was already treated poorly by the world as a tiefling, and cazador pretended to be a kind, caring, gentle figure. whether as a father, or a lover. she seems to be the most aware of cazador's schemes and easy to control.

because she was captured while she was still innocent, and i made it so that after capture, none of cazador's spawn could really 'grow' as people while under his control (hence why astarion is level 1 when we meet him), i don't have a class for her yet, other than the charisma-based inclination based off her tiefling nature. i do have two little plot hooks for her though, so i'll see which direction she decides to go in.

Petras:

what we mainly know is that petras is a bit of an idiot, according to astarion. while this would normally hold very little juice, since astarion thinks all acts of good are idiotic, we also see that petras is regarded this way in general, such as looking for a meal when he finally is allowed his freedom. his role was "dumb younger brother".

i imagined him as a bit of a jock. not exactly ill-intentioned, but definitely ignorant. he also looked shorter and stouter than astarion--even though i know they most likely use the same model, i wanted to incorporate this. i wanted to make him a idiot-good paladin at first, and keep him as someone resilient and protective, but none of the oaths really seemed to suit him. i knew none of them could be a religious class, mainly for the reasons astarion brought up, and the oaths themselves didn't really serve him well. i settled on barbarian and flavour him with dhampir. yes, even though all of them are technically vampires and petras specifically was a human in life, i just used character sheets to make things easier.

Violet:

Violet was at least a little interesting--mostly because of her diary. she constantly writes about playing pranks on other people and overall being a menace. she's also the only other person to be in the 'favoured spawn' room in recent history. while leon constantly tried to shoehorn his way in there for his daughter, she had no such attachment. i figured she just was a little cruel, and enjoyed the suffering of others so much that she may have actually enjoyed the killing a vampire would do.

i also had cazador enforce this behaviour, because in this hierarchy, she is the 'bratty younger sister'. the favoured youngest spawn. i made her a gloom stalker ranger. i wanted her to be ruthless in the way that she got her kills, attacking others while she had the advantage, and still having some skill. i also wanted an overlap where she and astarion could reconnect so that she wouldn't be completely lost and evil, what with both of them being sneaky and such. plus helps with the pranks role, and gives her some capacity for wisdom

Yousen:

the final sibling. the only thing i think we ever find out about this guy is that violet played a prank on him once. i imagine that cazador saw him as a joke. his stature doesn't fit his team, he's not particularly their type, and he doesn't seem to be treated very well. i think of him as the 'black sheep' of the family. the 'runt of the litter'. this is the role he is meant to play.

however, even though this is the role he plays, i didn't make him this way at all. i headcanon this is the 'character' cazador cared least about. i don't think he took much time carefully picking it out, since yousen would also be the last spawn chosen for the ritual, and at this point, cazador figures they're all going to die anyways--he just needs to complete the family. there was a lot i could do here, with so little known about him. i made him reclusive and resentful, which makes him seem to fit the role, but deep down it's mostly because he's hardened and jaded. i made his backstory as a soldier--perhaps one that cazador found drunk at a bar one day and figured he would make a good joke, a runt, and effectively the most misunderstood.

he is a battle master fighter. or, well, formerly was. i had him lose a significant amount of skill during the years that he became a spawn. also during cazador's ritual, if you examine everyone, he and leon are the only ones with blood on their mouths. i felt that this meant they were the only two who attempted to fight cazador before becoming sacrifical lambs. (note: they also have it at the camp when they attack astarion, but this could still be valid and also i don't trust the texture mapping they did with the spawn, what with their red bodies) i thought a sorcerer and fighter could make a badass combo. also, there are a lot of people who sleep on the halfling fighter builds.

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isobug · 2 months

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Dichotomyless / Non-Dichotomy

A representative flag for those who are totally outside of dichotomy categorization of any kind ( Dichotomyless ) and / or not conforming to the orientation / gender / etc. dichotomy in any way ( Non-Dichotomy. )

These terms were not coined by me, but were defined by Anon via my inbox. This was requested as Anon wanted something more specific than Absrose.

The symbol on the flag is "≅". I believe this is a great symbol to represent being Dichotomyless / Non-Dichotomy as it means "approximately equal to" in mathematics. The antonyms of "Dichotomy" are "equality, similarity, harmony, and agreement". This represents those concepts, but avoids exact sameness.

( I want to avoid the creation of a new dichotomy of "similar vs. dissimilar" via the modifier "approximate", which means "close but not exactly the same" aka both and also neither. This can be conceptually similar to or the same as Recursion if you find that useful to describe your experience! )

The symbol itself can also represent the experience of being one who is Dichotomyless / Non-Dichotomy, with the tilde representing the individual(s) in question being literally above or removed from any or a Dichotomy ( represented by the two parallel lines ), but also not totally removed ( again, to avoid another dichotomy of "removed vs. attached". )

I've also chosen "≅" because it's already easily available / accessible as a text symbol, so one could easily put it in their bio, their icon, or recreate it irl for handmade pride accessories and the like.

The flag itself has the blue and purple-pink stripes at the top / bottom to represent any relevant dichotomy or all dichotomies. These colors are often used to show "opposites". The orange-yellow stripe is a color intentionally removed from blue/pink/purple and is "above" the dichotomy stripes, but still slightly overlapping with both ( as well as neither / the rest of the flag. )

The grey expanse is meant to show the "grey area" of every dichotomy, people often think in "black and white" when I've found that every established dichotomy has it's grey areas or those who are literally unable to be fit into "either/or" systems. It is both removed from the other stripes but touching all of them, again representing a lack of dichotomy.

The teal stripe/circle holding the symbol is above but overlapping with the orange-yellow stripe to represent how, even if one were to try and make any Dichotomyless / Non-Dichotomy experience / identity into a Dichotomy ( via "label crunching" and the like ), one would still be Dichotomyless / Non-Dichotomy even in relation to that newly created dichotomy. ( Again, you may related this to the concept of recursion if you'd like. )

I'm sorry if this is a little high-concept or if i've repeated myself somewhat here. These are intentionally broad terms and I want to make sure I'm properly explaining all of my thoughts and reasonings. I'm happy to tweak any language if something isn't totally clear! ( I may have made a few typos, this was a lot to type. )

Taglist - @radiomogai, @revenant-coining

#mogai coining #liom coining #mogai friendly #liom friendly #mogai pride #liom pride #mogai flag #liom flag #mogai #liom #mogai community #liom community #mogaisafe #liomsafe

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 months

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Fall 2023 Anime Overview: 100 Girlfriends and Spy x Family S3

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You

Premise: Rentaro is approached by the god of love, who confesses that he accidentally gave him 100 soulmates. And unfortunately, if someone meets their soulmate and fails to be with them, they DIE. Thus Rentaro decides he will date all the girls who end up being his soulmate, and be the best possible boyfriend ever to all of them.

So yeah. I watched this. I'm not someone who really watches male-centric harem anime, but I'd heard this one was really funny and yeah, the first episode was indeed really funny. The way it exaggerated the tropes of the genre to parody them genuinely made me laugh. The first two girlfriend's gimmicks were that one (Akane) was secretly super thirsty and the other (Karane) was tsundere and it played those to the hilt for maximum laughs. Tsundere says she decided to take a piss in the school flower garden to avoid saying she was looking for the perfect flower for Rentaro and Rentaro's astonished "you realize that makes you sound WAY worse than telling the truth does" was great. Thirsty girl trying to pull the ~ooh you need to drink some of my drink~ to score an indirect kiss only to find Rentaro ridiculously prepared was also a fantastic gag.

All the girls are REALLY down bad for Rentaro and the premise of this would not work at all if the series didn't sell Rentaro as legitimately a great boyfriend who could reasonably attract 100 girl and be just as down bad for all of them. But Rentaro is no classic harem potato boy, he's superhumanly thoughtful and the ultimate wife guy. It makes him very static as a character compared to the flexibility the others have, but it's generally amusing. On top of that, the series handled neurodivergence in a surprisingly thoughtful way in episode 3 with Rentaro going all out to help his ladylove's way of expressing herself without talking be more accessible, rather than trying to "fix" her. I also really like how the girls in the polycule are genuinely friends and don't compete with each other over Rentaro--and some even seem like they're pretty into each other too (though this is entirely played for laughs rather than actually explored, of course).

Yet at the same time...yeah, the premise began wearing thin for me as tropes I'm less willing to roll with popped up.

Karane's complex over being flat-chested wore thin quickly (even if Rentaro thinks she's perfect) since it's mainly used in gags to embarrass her. One girlfriend's thing is that she drugs a lot of people without their consent (fantasy type drugs that can do ridic things, but. they are drugs. some that melt clothes or make you lustful included), and the anime genuinely tries to make you think it's so sad that people didn't want to be friends with her because of this, and Rentaro magnanimously tells her she's okay the way she is...forgiving her for his girlfriends that she drugged. Yeah, she's annoying. (also her body turns into a child's sometimes because of course it does).

And then there's the Mom girlfriend. I mean of course there's gonna be a Mom girlfriend eventually, Milf-lovers can't be denied, but it happened quicker than expected! it being paired with her being initially abusive (to the point she drove her daughter to attempt suicide) and then fixed by Rentaro's love and motivational speech...along with the justifications for her being ridiculously young (likely to parody that trope, but still)...yeah, it was all a lot.

I don't know if I'll return for the (already announced) season 2 tbh. I appreciate that the show's intentionally trashy and silly, and it is still funny a lot of the time, but it's not really my kind of trash. But I don't regret the wild, often fun ride it was--maybe if I'm really bored that season or hear enough wild things I'll retry, but right now it seems likely me and the 100 girlfriends are never, ever, ever getting back together.

Spy x Family Season 3

See previous reviews for the premise and so on.

Spy x Family is pretty much staying the course from when we last checked in, though this season gives a lot more attention to Yor, and I love the cruise ship arc and all the ridiculous fights she gets into a lot! That arc contains some of my favorite gags of the series too (like Loid's attempts to be a cool dad). Otherwise, Spyfam has settled into being a largely episodic series that seems like it wants to be around for the long haul, so don't expect too much forward plot momentum. And Yuri (the man, not the genre) unfortunately still exists, and unfortunately we have to put up with an episode of him being a fascist supercop. Overall it was good season, though and remains a fun adaptation. Yor, please step on me.

#100 gfs #spy x family #100 kanojo #the 100 girl friends who really really really really really love you #fall 2023 reviews #yor forger #anime overview #my reviews #fall 2023 anime

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thatdogmagic · 27 days

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This is the last post I plan on making about the current situation.

I've been trying to recall what it is that might be getting repeated, and there's a couple instances I can think of that are pretty ripe for taking snips:

There are chat logs where I made unkind generalizations about autistic cis men, in the context of the majority of my experiences with them being largely negative, and being relieved that I had a space where my own neurodiversity had room to unfold.

She has chatlogs where I commented on not fully understanding trans men who still veered ultra-femmy, even though I don't have any trouble wrapping my head around butch trans women. That contradiction made me think about it quite a bit, and ultimately decided it wasn't a great opinion to have/was mostly just some lingering All Things Being Binary shit I still find myself unpacking.

I'm sure there's other thorny conversations that can be pruned for content, but I'm having trouble thinking of what it is beyond interpersonal clashes and, yeah. I've already seen the depths of missing context there.

There is no better example, in fact, than the comparison of shadowy werewolves with glowing eyes/teeth. It was taken from a concept that was tabled after approval was actively sought because there was a recognized stylistic overlap. Since 'shadow werewolf with glowing eyes/teeth' is a very common visual element in a lot of werewolf artwork, we also went on to discuss when those visual elements would best be avoided, and when they could be put to use.

This wasn't mentioned in the original comparison posts. Nor was it mentioned that it was never intended for public posting. It was a thumbnail idea for promotional material, drawn over a month ago - and nearly a full year after Lacey's skin tone changed - and it was quietly set aside in favor of other ideas.

Bottom line, I don't have any control over what she does with what she has. I don't have any control over what people think about it. But I do have control over what I do with me, and what I plan to do is stay off social media for the forseeable future, and keep working on the projects that matter to me, like I always have.

In the meantime, if you know me off social media:

I do not want to be contacted about any additional escalation

I do not need to know about any further instances of reposted chatlogs or artwork

It's kind of you to want to know my side of the story, but for my own reasons I'd rather not go into it beyond what I've already posted.

If we discussed commission work that you no longer want, please let me know ASAP so I can remove you from the list I have prepped for when I get back to taking those. Those of you who contacted me about it already have my email address.

All that being said, I understand if even with context, some comments lose people. I'm not gonna hold that against anyone. Where I'm at in my own development is probably not going to be enough for some, and that's fine. It doesn't have to be, and it won't stop me from continuing to try.

End of the day, keep in mind that this is still a personal altercation being made public, with everything that entails.

PS - If any other art is being posted: understand that it is being done without permission, after Ependa and I both actively tried to delete those pieces off the server, stated we'd done so intentionally, and then actively requested those files be deleted off the server/her machine when we were made aware of the fact that she was using third party plugins to retain access.

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britcision · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER 4, PART 2!

May this brick all of our apps less and stop being a little fucking bitch about the page breaks. It takes me longer just to scroll to copy this section than it does to do my laundry one handed

Ask me how I know.

Tag list, sorry for spam:

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Previous part:

First chapter:

————-/

Frustration prickling across his skin, Damian ducked quickly away from another group of high society women, making for a quiet spot behind a large plant in an urn.

Galas were intolerable at the best of times, and this one was proving to be even worse. Todd’s new acquaintances were deeply suspicious but Drake and Brown already seemed enamoured.

Even Grayson seemed willing to trust them far, far too easily. It was… disappointing.

For all that Damian did trust their words when they said Masters was a danger, that certainly did not make them allies. He did not trust them.

They were all suspicious, from Foley being able to detect his presence to Fenton himself.

No matter what the others said, Damian knew that he hadn’t slipped. He’d not made a sound, not ruffled the tablecloth, and still he knew.

There was something off about all three Amity Parkers, and Fenton’s admitted pit exposure was only the start.

Normal people did not have access to a Lazarus pit. He couldn’t have named a single one not under the League’s control, not even a rumour. Whoever he was, however he had come to be exposed, he was not a civilian.

That he had died did not give him some sort of blanket acceptance. It did not solve the question of how, even if his other siblings did admonish him.

If Fenton had been exposed to the pit, knew its rage enough to help Todd, who’d been burdened with the worst rage Damian had ever witnessed, he was a dangerous threat indeed.

More dangerous because he was personable, and chatty, and friendly. He made them overlook him! It was crystal clear! Being charming to prevent them from growing suspicious.

It would not work on Damian. He had no use for charm or friendly chatter. He would remain focused, remain on guard even as Todd and the others failed.

He may have lost Father for now (intentionally; Damian had no wish to witness his painful flirtations with the Kyle woman), but he would stay focused.

He finally slipped into the solace of the plant’s shadow, and nearly bumped directly into the youngest Manson. He’d had no idea she was there.

Brows drawing down, Damian realized that Todd and Fenton were just a little further beyond, their backs to the wall but still close enough to be unnoticed. Both were watching Todd, who seemed pained by something.

“Were you not to be making a spectacle?” He hissed sharply, making both Amity Parkers jump.

Jason cracked an eye open and glared down at him, then at his two companions. Perhaps he was finally wising up to these new “friends”.

“They’re bothering me about fucking pixie boots. I didn’t want to do it in view of the whole crowd,” he grumbled and Damian’s brows drew further in.

Disappointing. Mere annoyance, not the suspicion they deserved. Whatever these “pixie boots” were, it was inconsequential.

He focused his attention on Manson instead.

“If you wish to antagonize your parents, you will need a much more public scene,” he reminded her, irritated that he needed to.

He may not trust the mission, but at least he could stay focused.

Manson rolled her eyes and waved a hand at him.

“Dude, being caught snuggled in a corner will get their hopes up just fine. He does have a point though,” she added to the other two with a reluctant sigh.

As if there was any doubt.

Todd frowned down at him.

“Why aren’t you with Bruce anyway? Wasn’t that your job?” He asked, when he should have been thanking Damian from distracting the other two from whatever this pixie nonsense was.

Ungrateful. This was why he preferred Grayson.

“He is pursuing Selina Kyle,” Damian explained, not feeling the need to go into detail. He didn’t need to as Todd’s face morphed into immediate understanding.

“Yeah, fair, not something for young eyes,” he agreed with a soft chuckle and Damian nodded curtly. He couldn’t imagine whose eyes or ears would enjoy such a display at any age.

Fenton was grinning again, prodding Todd’s shoulder.

“The voice of experience?” He asked in clear glee, and Todd grimaced.

“Unfortunately. So, Sam, want to hit the refreshments so I can offer you a drink?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Manson rolled her eyes again but offered her hand, her other hand firmly tucked into Fenton’s elbow.

“I feel like I’ve come in half way through a movie and missed all the good bits,” she grumbled, and Damian was surprised to find he sympathized.

There was far too much going on here that he did not understand, and too many secrets. He would have his answers though.

Most importantly of all, the reason Jason was keeping so many secrets and letting strangers so close. But that would wait for another time.

Watching the three move towards the room, he checked his own internal clock.

Fifteen minutes. Father would likely not be done with Kyle yet.

He could stand to observe some more of these strangers. And perhaps their shenanigans.

From a distance, of course.

Vlad was having a wonderful evening.

Oh, most of the attendees at this event were simply sheep waiting to be shorn, the wealthy and well connected who liked pretending that meant they mattered.

But he’d already made some promising connections with Mr Wayne before he’d had to hurry away, and he’d given the Mansons a subtle reminder that Daniel was his.

Better that they do remember that, even if their relationship was a little… fractious. Daniel would see the light soon, student loans were an awful thing and Vlad could make them disappear.

It would be… nice.

He’d half expected the impulse to control, to train and raise the boy would end once he’d reached adulthood, but no. Daniel was 21 now, legally a full adult, and Vlad still craved that closeness.

Age was such an immaterial thing, though he was hoping that leaving his teenage years might also dull the boy’s rebellious tendencies. He and Daniel would have the rest of eternity together.

There would be all the time in the world for Vlad to teach his godson everything he knew, prove his value as an advisor.

He had once hoped that Madeline might one day become a ghost herself, but he’d begun to suspect it’d never happen.

Oh, she had the passion, the drive, but she wanted answers too much. She was determined to know what came after death, and when the time came to learn she wouldn’t balk.

She would leave him behind.

One day he may even wish to follow.

But not while her son lived (as much as either of them still lived) and needed guidance. Needed training, even if it did have to be disguised as combat.

Daniel could be something truly special if only he applied himself. Vlad would see himself Fade before he let that potential go to waste.

And ah, there was young Tucker Foley, tucked as usual up to Daniel’s side. Likely filling him in on what had happened with the Mansons.

Smiling to himself, Vlad adjusted his vest and headed over to say hello.

Tim was honestly surprised by how much he was enjoying the gala. He’d expected it to be work, spending the time gathering data and assessing Jason’s new boyfriend.

Recon.

It’d beat the usual drudgery on that alone, but he was actually having fun. The most important thing he’d learned about Danny so far was definitely his own connections to the pit, but…

Well, he hadn’t expected to like the guy. To bully Jason about him, obviously, 1000% that was just going to happen, but liking him on his own merits?

Apparently Jason had good taste. Who knew?

Tucker Foley though, Tucker was way more Tim’s speed. He’d come to drop the knowledge that Selina Kyle was floating around and then stuck around, cheerfully chatting tech.

Tim would be much easier to mistake for Danny hanging out with Danny’s friend. It didn’t even need to be said.

And Tucker was just… so easy to talk to. They drifted around the room, chatting and greeting various business partners of Tim’s, talking like they’d known each other for years.

Tim was 1000% checking if they had an internship for Tuck. Hell, if they didn’t? He was the CEO, he could damn well make a space in R&D.

Tucker hadn’t given him the full download on his PDA yet, but he was more than happy to talk about some of his simpler modifications, and Tim already wanted the rest.

The guy might enjoy a retro aesthetic over Tim’s futuristic designs, but who fucking cared? His tech ran on old mods as fast as Tim’s newest of new wrist computer.

And, yeah, maybe they were currently engaged in a hack-the-pentagon race rather than socializing like Bruce always begged them to, but it was fun.

Tim’d come to another gala if he got to bring Tucker. For sure.

As he had the thought, Tucker glanced up from his PDA for a moment and Tim took advantage. He’d been tracking Tuck’s progress (knew Tucker was tracking his, and fuck that was exciting), and delicately tripped the firewall ahead of him.

Tuck’s PDA blanked out and Tim sailed through the last levels of security, grinning broadly in victory. He wouldn’t try and get a worm in, Tucker would notice for sure, but getting him locked out?

Yeah, that was a win.

Tucker barely seemed to notice though, leaning in with a wicked grin.

“Vlad, 5 o’clock, moving in. Ready?” He asked quietly, and only then glanced back at his PDA. His face fell and Tim snickered.

“Totally ready. And in, by the way,” he added, showing the other guy his screen.

Tucker let out a truly heartfelt groan, shoving at his shoulder and Tim swayed with it, laughing.

“Hey, you know the game. You blink, you lose!”

“It’s called spatial awareness,” Tucker shot back, half his attention now focused on bringing the PDA back up. And probably stopping a couple Secret Service alarms.

Tim would have helped, but a deceptively strong hand had just clapped onto his shoulder. It felt possessive even without seeing the expression that came with it, and Tim shivered, grin sharpening.

Oh, yeah. That wasn’t gonna go well for someone.

“Daniel. Imagine my surprise at finding you here,” Masters all but purred behind him.

The urge to twist away from the hand, break the grip, or possibly just throw the asshole were all very strong, but something in that grip made Tim think it wouldn’t be that easy.

And he was here as a civilian.

He marshalled his expression into one of Brucie’s best, cool politeness and greeting, and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Imagine mine at such an informal introduction,” he said with just a hint of teasing, cocking a brow as Vlad snatched his hand back like he’d been burned, “have we met?”

And fuck the guy was tall too, because of course he was. Not quite as tall as Bruce, but… definitely close to Jason’s height if not his size.

And currently glaring at Tucker, who was hiding giggles behind his hand.

“My apologies,” Vlad ground out like he was chewing glass, gaze finally sliding back onto Tim with a calculating curiosity that was more than familiar. “And you are?”

Tim put on his best smile, turning and offering his hand to shake because he was pretty sure that’d annoy the man more than anything else.

“Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And you are?”

And yeah, he didn’t like the smile that spread across Masters’ face as he took the hand, his grip firm and strong.

“Vladimir Masters,” he all but purred, actually giving a slight bow as he pulled back. Fucking weirdo. “Founder of DALV. CO and mayor of Amity Park.”

Tim blinked, the name suddenly clicking.

“You named your company after your own first name spelled backwards?” He asked, actual amusement sneaking into his voice.

Vlad raised a brow.

“Not an unusual practice, CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” he remarked coolly.

Tim grinned and spread his hands.

“Hey, I didn’t name it. You’re not wrong though, and I guess “Masters” has already been taken several times over,” Tim joked and Vlad’s eyes narrowed just a little.

“It is one of the unfortunate side effects of being a self made man,” he said with a convincing false humility… or at least it would have been convincing if Tucker hadn’t laughed.

Vlad’s eyes shot back around to the younger man like he’d forgotten he was there, narrowed again, and then his face smoothed into a shoddily sincere smile.

“And of course, Tucker Foley. We know each other through my dear godson, Daniel. I was quite surprised to hear that Daniel would be joining us this evening, Mister Foley. I don’t suppose you’d know where he is?”

It was the barest layering of civility and politeness, but since Tucker looked shocked by that, Tim had a couple guesses about their usual relationship. It did not endear Vlad to him.

Tucker didn’t stay off balance for long though, just shrugging and grinning. Tim finally got to see his utterly blatant lies up close and in person.

“Oh, is Danny here? I hadn’t heard. I dunno Vlad, I’m sure if he’s around he’d say hi. He’s really changed a lot though, not sure I’d recognise him.” All the same confidence he’d used to tell Dick his name was Danny.

Tim was maybe just a little bit in love with his sense of humour. Shifting until they were almost arm in arm, he grinned up at Vlad too.

“I do hope you find him, Mr Masters. Though I’m afraid if you think he looks like me, there’s plenty of us floating around. You know how Brucie collects the boys with dark hair and blue eyes.”

Vlad visibly flinched at the jibe, maybe not noticeably to anyone but a bat, but Tim wasn’t Red Robin for nothing. Still, he managed a decent answering smile and another weird little bow.

“Of course. Perhaps we shall speak again later, Mr Drake. There is a lot our companies can do for each other.”

Tim wouldn’t have let the opportunity go for a lifetime supply of espresso.

“Of course, don’t be afraid to reach out if you want to get in touch,” he said innocently, keeping his expression completely open in the face of a sudden and steely glare.

Quite sure he was being made fun of but unable to prove it, Vlad nodded stiffly and turned, walking away.

Tucker and Tim turned back to each other, grins suddenly broad and out of control. They had to suck them down quickly, one of the other boring businessmen approaching to “check if they were okay”, “so shocked someone would dare manhandle him”, blah blah blah.

No one who’d approached when Masters was actually around, of course. Just sucking up and enjoying the chance to smear dirt on someone with a little more wealth.

Tim would be very happy to smear a swamp on Vlad Masters, so he pretended his shoulder had been sorely wounded, rolling it and rubbing carefully.

Tucker actually looked concerned, hurrying him away to the refreshments table to grab him some ice. Tim let him fuss until they were away from direct witnesses, then tipped him a wink.

And the guy caught on fast, Tim had to give him that. They’d carried on to the table a little more loudly, Tucker keeping up a running commentary of “are you sure you’re okay?” While Tim did his very best Civilian Brave Face, But Not Actually Brave.

They even got him some ice, which Tucker held to his shoulder even though it felt fine. Just the visual was going to do a lot of work for them.

Distracted on his way to the back rooms, Bruce was alarmed to hear a couple talking about one of his sons being injured at the party.

His mind flashed immediately to Jason, though whether as the cause or the victim didn’t follow. When he heard it was Tim, worry shot through him and he forced himself to breathe.

Jason hadn’t done anything to hurt Tim in two years. He was actually more gentle with him than with any of the others, and Bruce didn’t imagine he’d faked all the regret.

It didn’t mean he couldn’t or wouldn’t slip again, hoodlum stranger monitoring the pit for him or not, but he wouldn’t make the accusation. It would hit too close if incorrect.

Changing course, he made his way across the room to find Tim instead. Best to get the information directly.

Tim looked well enough, though he’d draped his jacket over one arm while a young Black man - Tucker Foley, Jason’s mysterious plus one that he’d implied should be Danny - applied a makeshift ice pack to his shoulder.

Eyes narrowing, Bruce made his way gently closer, drifting through the nearby groups to pick up the local gossip. Though some lips closed when they spotted him, others opened faster.

There’d been some miscommunication between Tim and Vlad Masters, Vlad actually grabbing Tim and apparently mistaking him for someone else.

Their following exchange seemed to have been pleasant enough, but now Tim was “discreetly” seeking medical attention. Just how hard had the man grabbed Tim?

Masters had a firm grip, certainly, but he’d seen Tim slammed face first into concrete and walk away without flinching, broken nose and all.

He wouldn’t fuss about a real injury, not if he didn’t want an immediate assessment in the med bay when they returned home. He had to be faking, and Bruce knew why.

A message, likely to him and his siblings about Masters. Tim didn’t trust him, had found something about the man that warranted suspicion.

Masters had been very complimentary to Jason’s “Danny”, though even he’d admitted the boy had problems with authority. Was Tim telling him it was a lie?

But no, the boy tending Tim was Danny’s best friend, Tucker Foley. Tim could certainly fool a civilian into a fake medical emergency, but why would he involve Tucker if Danny was suspect?

Unless Tucker was potentially dangerous too, and Tim wanted him out of circulation. Away from Danny. Away from Jason.

Jason, who’d been so pleased to see the other young man only an hour ago. Now nowhere to be seen while Tucker tended to Tim’s arm.

Eyes narrowing, Bruce turned and made his way firmly towards the back rooms once more, eyes now sweeping the crowd for Masters.

It was possible Jason was no longer there, but he’d at least pick up the boy’s trail. He had to get Jason away from these people, at least until Tim could give a full report.

As he moved, he caught sight of Vlad Masters now approaching Dick and Cass, and nearly changed course again.

But no, Dick was a solid lad, he could handle himself and Bruce very much doubted a single person in the building could get anything past Cass.

They would be fine, whatever Masters was up to. They weren’t as unreliable vulnerable as Jason.

He had to get to Jason.

He couldn’t be too late again.

Cass did not like galas. To be fair, she didn’t know anyone who did.

She usually didn’t have to go; much less than her brothers. Bruce respected her desires for privacy, but she’d volunteered to go once.

It was a rite of passage Dick said, and he was usually right. It had been… well. She was one of Bruce’s later adoptees, long after it had become a running joke.

She had very nearly broken a man’s kneecaps for what he said about her brothers, but Cass was good at keeping quiet. Unobserved. Undetected.

Broken kneecaps were detectable.

Honestly, Cass was also the one who got into the least trouble at galas. She was used to sitting quietly while being verbally abused.

It was probably why no one ever tried to make her go. She’d gotten a little… lost in her own head the first time. It took days to find her words again.

Now if she went to a gala it was because she’d decided to, and someone stayed with her for most of the evening. Both so she didn’t have to talk to people and because that was usually why she chose to go.

Usually one of her siblings had planned something interesting, or needed her help. That was always fun, and they could chat in sign language about the assholes around them.

Today’s gala was double fun, because Tim and Dick had asked for her help with Danny (once they knew she was coming), and because Jason was fucking with Tim and Dick.

Cass didn’t choose sides.

She did like Jason’s new friend Tucker though. He was open and undamaged in a way very few vigilantes were. Perhaps he took a support role.

She’d known what he was since he spotted Damian, and the Amity Parkers even having their own evil billionaire was basically confirmation. Civilians just didn’t have those kinds of problems.

She hadn’t decided about Danny or Sam yet, but she did know that Jason already cared very deeply, which had surprised her. And probably Jason himself.

He needed more friends.

Cass would like more friends. Maybe someone for backup when she went overseas.

She hoped Jason’s new friends would be able to stay. They made him so happy, and tonight so very interesting.

It was easy to ignore the half-whispered comments as she and Dick moved through the crowd. Dick was a great performer, easily turning on the charm and making people smile.

All Cass had to do was smile at appropriate moments and keep an eye out, ready to alert him when it was their turn.

An older lady in a long blue gown was just telling them that Tim had been caught up in a scene when she caught sight of Vlad Masters making his way towards them.

Luckily Dick was already facing the right way, doing all the right expressions of wide eyed fascination. Sliding her hand from his elbow to bare wrist, she tapped out a message in morse code.

‘Behind.’

She didn’t need to look at Dick to know he’d received it as he shifted just a little, hand ready to pull from hers just in case. Apparently Masters already had a bad habit of grabbing.

Cass watched him from the corner of her eye, hidden behind her bangs as he stalked up.

Apparently he’d already learned his lesson; while he looked confident, he was moving more slowly, scanning the group. She let her hand drop from Dick’s before his gaze tracked down, shifting her position to “politely interested stranger”.

Dick gave a rather convincing laugh as their “informant” cut herself off quickly, spreading his hands and shrugging.

“Hey, Amity Park’s an informal scene. Not a big city like Gotham, right?” He said cheerfully, slipping easily into Danny’s tones.

It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t like he had to fool a voice recording. Cass switched to watching the older woman’s eyes widen as Vlad approached, and she held down a smile of her own.

Now if Vlad made a grab for Dick… but no, he’d learned well apparently, stepping in just a little too close to be casual at Dick’s left shoulder.

“Not downplaying our fair city, are we,” he began in a confident drawl, which faltered when Dick turned that wide, friendly smile his way.

“Oh, I’d never! Gotham’s got its troubles but it’s been my home for most of my life, Mister…” he let it trail into an obvious question.

Cass made eye contact with the older woman, whose eyes were still at that “deer in the headlights” strain. Seeing she had Cass’s attention she tried to discretely point with her fan to Masters.

And mouthed “that’s him” so obviously Masters couldn’t have missed it if he tried, her gaze snapping back to Dick. Civilians were so funny.

Eyes narrowed, Masters cleared his throat pointedly and stepped back, extending his hand to shake.

“My apologies… I thought you were my godson. He’s recently joined your university here, and I would hate to think he’s been letting the side down.” He sounded much more formal too, colder than the almost insinuating tones before.

This was a man who liked people to believe he knew everything, all the time. Didn’t like admitting a mistake. But still vain enough to make bold guesses.

Cass gave him a gentle, empty smile as she shifted up alongside Dick, ready to offer support.

Dick, meanwhile, was having fun.

“I know that feeling. Of course I was just a kid when I came here, but Gotham’s just so big and all enveloping. Why, I almost forgot about my home town completely!” He added with a light laugh.

Master’s expression tightened.

“Quite. And you are?” He asked, though he still hadn’t given his name.

Dick fake startled like he hadn’t noticed, catching the man’s hand to shake just after he’d started lowering it.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Dick Grayson, first of old Brucie’s wards. And this is my little sister Cass,” he added, other arm looping around Cass’s shoulder and pulling her in.

She held out her hand too, watching Masters’ eyes as Dick released him and he took hers, shaking like a perfect gentleman.

Not a flinch. Either he hadn’t decided she was lesser yet, or he thought they both were and there wasn’t much difference.

Less likely to underestimate her. Ah well.

She shook back firmly, not her strongest grip but enough that a moment of surprise showed as she released him, giving him her Gala Smile.

A polite, welcoming brick wall with nothing behind it.

Masters held his hand out for just a heartbeat longer after she let go, then tucked both hands behind him and pulled up a smile of his own.

Not real. But not fully forced.

“Ah, of course! I was told quite a few of you have come out to celebrate your dear brother’s return,” Masters said, a glint that Cass definitely didn’t trust in his eyes as he looked from her to Dick. “I am Vlad Masters, I was just speaking to your… guardian?”

“Our dad,” Dick corrected genially, and that was definitely jealousy that shot through Masters’ eyes, there and gone in an instant.

Interesting. He really did want Danny’s acceptance.

And he knew how to keep a public face.

“Of course, my apologies. I suppose you both knew long before we did that poor Jason had been found?” Masters asked, almost sounding sincere for the first time.

Dick clocked it too, his arm tightening around her for a moment before releasing.

“Yes. It was so terrible when we heard that he’d…” his voice trailed off for a moment, putting just enough into the grief to be convincing when he forced himself back a moment later, “but he’s okay after all!”

Masters stepped closer, honing in on perceived weakness like a shark.

“Of course, of course… it must have been such a relief,” he agreed, his voice almost oily as he lowered it, “and I certainly hope it’s not too much to ask, but I had heard that you had even buried him?”

Which, in the spirit of fairness, was a question Cass had been hearing in their periphery for most of the evening. But no one had actually dared say it directly.

Dick’s eyes went comically wide, like the thought had never even occurred to him.

“Oh no, you’re right… I wonder who we put in that coffin,” he gasped with fake horror, stopping just shy of clapping both hands to his cheeks.

Cass pressed her lips closed on a smile. Now no one would.

Even Masters looked surprised, leaning away but not backing down.

“So you know that it wasn’t…” he began, and Dick cut him off with a hearty gasp, swaying like the thought sucked all the strength out of him.

“No, of course not! I saw his grave last week, it was perfectly undisturbed,” Dick said breathily, leaning heavily into Cass and beginning to shake in suppressed sobs.

She pretended to stumble, steadying him and wrapping her arms around him. Masters was beginning to look a little alarmed, but underneath she was sure there was a hint of satisfaction.

Whatever he was pushing for (probably the pit contamination Jason had mentioned), he thought Dick had confirmed it.

Which was… odd. For his body to have been put in the pit, it couldn’t also be in an undisturbed grave? Oh, the grave could have been replaced, but he wouldn’t know that just watching Dick.

He’d have had to look in person, but there was no air of impatience. No hint of an intent to leave, to check something out.

He looked like he had everything that he could possibly want in this moment, except maybe for Dick to be less dramatic.

He took a step closer, directing his focus more to her as she “consoled” her brother.

“I am so sorry to have said anything,” he said quietly, his voice respectful and contrite even if his eyes weren’t, “I can see I’ve caused a great upset. Perhaps we should bring him somewhere to calm down?”

Before Cass could respond, the lady from before (who’d been hovering in abject glee for a second dose of Wayne gossip) butted in.

“Oh, young Cassandra can’t speak, Mr Masters. You know,” she added coyly, doing one of her special discrete fan gestures and whispered “a mute.”

Cass didn’t quite roll her eyes, shifting Dick more across her shoulders and guiding him off to one side. Masters hovered for a moment, clearly still considering assisting, but let the lady draw him into conversation instead.

Never mind that Dick was nearly half a foot taller than her and outweighed her too.

Nothing she couldn’t handle, obviously, or hadn’t handled before, but she couldn’t decide if it was annoying or suspicious.

Annoying from the woman. She was beginning to lean towards suspicious from Masters, though.

He was used to people being stronger than they looked. Or wanted to see if she’d fail. Either way, she added both to her notes on Danny too.

And, frankly, if Masters thought Danny might be Dick’s height when he was a little closer to hers? They hadn’t seen each other in a while.

She’d been sceptical when Tucker suggested the idea and she’d seen it on her brothers too, but apparently he’d still been fooled.

For all that he may want to be close to Danny… For all that he seemed exactly the sort to try and spy and maintain that air of omnipotence… he hadn’t gotten close in a while.

Good.

Danny was too happy to be put under that oppressive thumb. It was why Cass kept putting on her mask, and she’d happily do so again for the boy’s sake.

Nobody should have to see the worst the shadows offered.

Danny was having fun being dragged around the room by Sam while Jason flirted with her.

Jay knew just how to toe the line to stay on the “charming” side rather than “obnoxious”, introducing her to people and always listening when she opened her mouth.

Which was usually to reiterate stubbornly that she was here with Danny, or grudgingly answer some question about her life. He’d made her laugh more than once, and Danny figured it was aaaalmost time for them to stop pushing him so hard.

Frankly Danny was mostly just watching them both and enjoying not having to talk himself. Something about Jason turned on the charm sucked most of his snappy retorts right out of him.

Probably cuz he didn’t wanna accidentally hit the nail on the head and upset his new friend. No way to tell what would be a hot button, right?

It definitely wasn’t because watching Jason’s eyes shine when he laughed made Danny think of the stars. It’d been a while since he’d gone up past Gotham’s smog to stargaze.

Besides, he wasn’t the star of this show, so it was fine if he was mostly just exchanged grins with Jason while he and Sam talked.

Sam was having way more fun than she’d ever had at a party too, and Danny reeeeally hoped that her parents knew her well enough to tell.

She’d pull out Manson Party Voice whenever they bumped into another group, but when the three of them were making their way from one spot to the next? That was Sam’s real smile.

It wasn’t as bright and shiny and perfect as the fake one, but honestly, they weren’t comparable. Sam’s real smiles were small and much rarer than her plotting grins, but that made them special.

Val knew too, and Danny made sure he snuck a couple of candids of Sam laughing in her getup just for her. Sam Manson, happy in frills and bows?

Yeah, he also took a couple of her diabolical grins. And a couple of Jason in his suit, which looked waaaay better than Danny’s.

Jason had a lot more to fill it out, and maybe one day Danny would ask about his fitness routine. Fighting ghosts had stopped him from being a stick, but he was still ridiculously wiry.

This just in, fighting for your life with the bare minimum of training and mentorship? Did not make you a beefcake. Well, not if you also had laser eyes.

Danny’s eye muscles were probably better.

At least until he got Jason on his halfa training.

They’d all heard the latest Hot Party Gossip, about the mayor of some little town actually grabbing young Timothy Drake! The scandal!

There’d been another flash of protective rage from Jason at that, but this time Danny was expecting it and ready to soothe with some calm-reassurance-safe.

Seeing Tucker delicately fussing with an ice pack in a “discrete” corner had settled Jason down ironically, and Danny had to wonder how hard Vlad had grabbed him.

Yeah, he’d given Danny bruises plenty of times, but usually mostly after the fighting started. Or when Danny was being a little asshole.

Which, to be fair, was most of the time.

They were just watching Cass drag a sobbing, shuddering Dick past them towards the back rooms (and considering going to help) when Jason stiffened.

About to open his mouth to ask, Danny’s eyes snapped suddenly past the larger man and suddenly he didn’t have to.

Vlad. Behind and between Danny and Jason, looking… ruffled, almost, but very satisfied. Just the look sent a shiver down Danny’s spine before he even opened his mouth.

“Ah, Daniel. And you’ve been making a new friend, I see?“ he asked smugly as Sam and Jason wheeled to face him.

Danny came closer, moving in between them and stepping carefully in front of Jason.

Who growled softly, caught Danny around the shoulders, and stepped in front of him instead, close enough that Vlad had to take a step back or stand chest to chest with him.

And yeah, okay, maybe Danny wasn’t expecting that and it threw him for a loop. What of it.

“Yeah, he has,” Jason said, his voice suddenly cold and menacing in a way Danny had never heard before.

Even Vlad looked surprised, eyebrows rising at the tone.

“And you’ve been teaching him your attitude issues as well, how charming,” he noted to Danny directly, then gave Jason a sly smile. “Vladimir Masters. I assume Danny’s been telling you all sorts of stories?”

“He doesn’t need to dude, your vibes are rancid,” Sam snapped, rolling her eyes when Vlad shot her a glare.

Which, yeah, helped snap Danny out if it and he tried a step to the side to get back into view. And stifled a snicker when Jason moved with him, resting a hand on the taller halfa’s hip.

Calm-breathe-don’t give the game away

It was difficult to keep it local, since he was currently bathing the whole room in his energy. Although, since Vlad had already successfully found him…

Danny winched it back in, letting his aura go from overwhelming back down to conversational, shoulders settling as the pressure dropped.

Felt Jason stiffen for a moment under his hand, then relax, and yeah now Danny felt a little bad about that part of the plan. He hadn’t gone as big as Frostbite, but Jason didn’t react well to big auras.

Maybe it’d help him settle down.

He did at least shift aside enough to let Vlad see him again, and Danny gave him a cheeky wave just to see his face pinch.

“What’s the matter Vlad, worried about what I’d say?” He asked innocently, and enjoyed the way Vlad’s eyes narrowed.

Right up until Jason cleared his throat pointedly and Vlad’s eyes shot to him, widened, and the man stepped back. Which was… wild.

Vlad might be just a little taller, he didn’t have even half of Jason’s bulk but he’d never backed down from Jack Fenton before.

Then again, Jack loved Vlad and would never stare at him with such open threat in his face. Even for a baby halfa, Jason could exude an aura of menace.

Danny was maybe just a tiny huge bit loving it.

Vlad glanced his way again, teeth gritted, and stopped. His expression shifted enough that Danny had to actually look at him again, rather than vaguely watching while enjoying Jason.

Was that… actual conflict? On Vlad “I Know Best I Made The Universe From Scratch” Masters?

And then Vlad gave him a careful, polite smile that he usually saved for cops and adults and that was just too weird.

“Daniel, I understand that we’ve had our differences and I will admit my own part in that. But do I not even deserve a chance to make my own first impressions?” He asked, turning the same smile to Jason.

Who glared back.

“You’ve been running around and accosting my brothers, I think that’s a pretty clear first impression,” he pointed out, muscles flexing as he folded his arms.

Danny wasn’t gonna look. Nope. Focus on Vlad, focus on Vlad, you’d think it wouldn’t be hard with his actual nemesis in front of him but ooooh the fabric of Jason’s jacket was straining in a very interesting way.

Definitely stealing his training routine.

Vlad seemed to have deflated proportionately too, inclining his head in a sharp nod.

“Yes, well. I certainly didn’t intend to be so upsetting. Perhaps we can turn over a new leaf together, Jason? Daniel?” He offered with a slightly more strained smile.

Poor guy never did cope well when one of his plans went wrong. It was Danny’s favourite thing about him.

So he gave Vlad his very best shit eating grin and nodded, leaning against Jason’s side and crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Yeah, why not? We can get all buddy buddy together while I tell Jason all about that camping trip you took me and my mom on,” he said cheerfully, waving a hand. “Maybe I should send you on one some time.”

Vlad’s eyes narrowed, then his expression resolved into a snakelike smile as he pointedly looked at Jason instead.

“Certainly. And perhaps I can also show you some of Daniel’s baby pictures, Jason?” He hummed, voice suddenly silken.

Danny fucking stumbled as he rushed to regain his footing.

“What no fuck you you do not,” he stammered at the same time as Jason raised a mildly interested brow.

“Baby pictures?”

And Vlad had that stupid, annoying, self satisfied asshole smile on his face again. Like he’d fucking won something. He continued to ignore Danny and Sam, smiling up at Jason.

“Oh yes. His parents kept a very clear documentation of his early years, his first tooth, his first Halloween costume, all of it,” he said smugly, entirely confident.

Which just was not fucking fair. What the fuck was Danny supposed to say to that?

“There is no way his parents gave you those photos,” Sam snapped, folding her arms too and glaring.

Hero goth queen.

Vlad gave her a smug smile too.

“And yet I have them. Jack was delighted to bring me through all of the family albums, so I also have stories,” he added, shooting Danny a look that had usually accompanied an ectoblast.

Ectoblasts were better. Ectoblasts only hurt in the moment.

Danny groaned, closing his eyes and scrubbing his hands across his face.

“Alright never mind I liked it better when we were fighting,” he grumbled under his breath, startling a chuckle from Jason.

Vlad finally found a way to beat him.

At least until Danny could call his dad for college stories.

—————

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton x jason todd #dead on main shipping #also dead me #why u like this tumblr #why

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claraameliapond · 7 months

Text

The Indigenous Voice Referendum Australia 2023

Floored and devastated

repulsed at the racist selfishness of the no voters

It had NOTHING TO DO WITH THEM.

This is NOT who we are

Although it's a comforting narrative that no voters and conservatives are dying out - and will gradually have less and less pull

Firstly - It's too gradual to just wait it out

And Secondly- It's foolish to think that's only where these no votes are coming from

Younger less educated people are part of this too

Ignorant and arrogant - and selfish- that's what less education translates to.

This highlights, more than ever, how important it is to have strict policies in place legally for managing misinformation, fear mongering and propaganda spreading

We need laws about media monopolies and restricting or banning them altogether

Because one agenda from a multimillion dollar media monopoly cannot have majority access to inform a whole country. Especially because they were intentionally running interference with the simplest truth - they threw everything at it - spreading misinformation, blatant repulsive, violent lies - totally made up lies, not even remotely connected to what was being proposed. It's heartbreaking they could invent such lies and then spread those repulsive invented lies so fully and have people believe them.

And less educated people are always more vulnerable to propaganda: they believe hatred without a second thought. They don't fact check. They don't research. They don't make sure. Any excuse to flaunt their selfish racist self interest, against anyone else who might actually be more vulnerable, worse off.

However, That's the thing about this referendum - IT WASNT "US AGAINST THEM"

It was just : do we all agree that indigenous Australians should get to share information and advice with the government about how best to provide the care and facilities we already provide to them. So they work. Because they haven't been. So it would be a good use of money and then we can achieve permanent results and solutions for those issues and then move on, and do different things with that money. To actually move forward with this and not be stuck in stasis with things not improving.

That was literally all it was

It still is an issue now.

Don't loose hope

I'm still proud of all of the Yes voters- there were a good amount of us - and we will continue to turn the tide from ignorance and misinformation to the truth.

We've got to keep going 💪🏻 🙌🏻 👏🏻 🙏🏻

And now we have a more accurate idea of how to do that , and what needs to be fixed with people's understanding of this in our country. We can use this information to succeed

Ironically - doing exactly what the referendum was about : getting more accurate information to better help vulnerable communities of indigenous Australia.

But apparently, we've got to deal with the misinformed tantrum havers first - they make everything an "us against them" even when it literally wasn't. It doesn't affect anyone else. It could only have been positive. They make every issue an "us against them " even when it has literally nothing to do with them, because everything's a tantrum if it's not about them.

We've got accurate information now - just not about the people we were expecting : we know how to combat the racist minformation spreaders, and those who believed them.

What we need is :

Real limits and legal consequences on misinformation spreading, fear mongering and propaganda

Real limits on media monopolies and restrictions from letting them operate the way they do.

AND we do have to continue to combat this misinformation and propaganda whenever it is paraded near us. Respond with the truth, and make sure you ALWAYS RESPOND.

Don't let them think they're right.

Respond simply and calmly with the truth.

I'm sorry we have to do this but we do.

I don't want to be anywhere near those people, but if they identify themselves- we have to respond.

Respond and correct them.

Their idiocy can not and does not rewrite the truth. We are right and the truth of what this is, always was and what we need to do still exists

A few sources to begin to understand this:

A breakdown of who voted what where

Interpreting these results properly - this is well worth a read

I am looking forward to seeing the full count when it's ready. Make sure to look at those things - from Official sources.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED YES

I stand proudly with you on the side of truth. Empathy. Morality. Justice

We have a more accurate idea of what's going on now: let's get to work

Also thank you to MC HAMMER for supporting and encouraging and campaigning for people to vote yes. That was lovely.

It really was a very simple thing - the truth is still the truth and we will succeed

Love and strength to us all

By goodness we need it

Xxxx🤍🖤🧡❤🤍🖤🧡❤💗💖💜💕💕💓💗

My heart was so full when I voted yes - it's an obvious yes

And it still is

Because YES is the truth

It is what is needed.

Still.

And we will achieve it xxxxx

#The VOICE #THE VOICE REFERENDUM #AUSTRALIA #YES23 #AUSTRALIAN REFERENDUM #PSA #The INDIGENOUS AUSTRALIAN VOICE #VOTE YES #THANK YOU FOR VOTING YES #Let's keep going #It's still the truth #We will achieve it #Antony Green #Referendum 2023 #MC HAMMER #KINDNESS #LOVE #SOLIDARITY

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wreckingtickles · 3 months

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Ooooo I saw your post! I’m not that anon but I have an ask type thing 😂

How would you write/describe a tk scenario in which Bakugo is made to pay for every horrible thing he’s done to Midoriya as a way of atonement?

I’m not sure if this goes with how you wanted us to ask, but turn that into whatever you want! 😋

Oh wow, this could be the premise for a whole story... and it nearly was, as I definitely toyed with the idea of a story in which everyone Bakugo has ever wronged exacts a ticklish revenge upon him. For Midoriya, that would probably mean months of uninterrupted, unfettered access to Bakugo's ticklish form lol

I think there are three possible ways to develop such a story: a humorous "realistic" one, a darker "unrealistic" one, and an even darker "AU" one. (I'm 100% misusing the terms in brackets.)

"Realistic": ...there are actually two: one where Bakugo tries to make amends, and one where everyone else jumps at the chance to inflict penitence. Sorry, I keep being cryptic lol The first one is actually the most unrealistic of all: Bakugo volunteers to be put in a "tickle booth" to make amends for all his wrongdoing (maybe as part of a fundraiser? I have ideas about this but I'll save them for another time), as he doesn't even know how to apologize. In this case, Kirishima is 100% behind this suggestion, and probably goading Bakugo into it with a "If you aren't ticklish, you should be fine. You're not ticklish, are you?" However, Bakugo would never go for it as he cares too much about what other people think.

The second one has him being forced in the above position. This is either because he was assigned to work on a project on which Kirishima took point (again, possibly a fundraiser), to which everyone who has a bone to pick with him will flock, or because he wanted to apologize to Kirishima specifically, and Kirishima demanded that he submit to that kind of penitence... but after having his share of fun on his own, he secretly filmed a few seconds and sent the video to everyone else, showing what he was doing and why, and inviting a loooot of people to join in.

"Unrealistic": Bakugo gets hit by a Quirk that weaponizes his sense of guilt against him. And either the villain in question is wicked and/or kinky, or Bakugo's subconscious default to a ticklish payback as it combines humiliation + powerlessness + his body being used against him. Deku would be a great avatar for his guilt to manifest... or heck, it's one of the 100 Quirks Deku has inherited, so he's intentionally doing this XD Which leads us to...

"AU": Villain Deku exacts a deranged revenge. @wigglywormy has written stories about this, if anyone's interested. This villain Deku would be absolutely merciless and using everything he knows about Bakugo's ticklishness against him. It would definitely start as revenge, then rapidly morph into a fun de-stressor for the villain after a hard day of scheming and running from the long arm of the law. You know, when all resentment evaporates but you still have a chained-up hero to take the stress away.

So, as you can see there are a lot of possibilities XD This is already kind of long, so if anyone would like me to elaborate on any of these, absolutely do send me an ask about it! This was fun :-)

#mha tickle #bnha tickle #tickle content #ticklish!bakugo #ticklish!bakugou

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sophieinwonderland · 10 months

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I have a question for willogenic/tulpagenic or systems that create their headmates.

Why would you? Why would you want someone else in your head and take control of your body? What motive could drive someone to actively do that and create more?

I also want to ask if they really feel how horrible it is to have arguments or headmates hurt you because they can create their own as they please.

Also if they experience the bad symptoms of being plural and not just the "fun" part such as dissociation, depersonalization, derealization, amnesia, identity crisis, etc.

I do not ask any of these questions with the desire to bother, I genuinely want to know and it is a question that keeps me alert.

Often, people drawn to the tulpamancy community are those with ASD, anxiety or other disorders that leave them feeling alone.

I was an accident, technically. At least, my host didn't plan on making a sentient being. But for others, it's not hard to see why they would be drawn to the practice. My own host had a good home life with a really supportive family, but has difficulty interacting with external people, which could be isolating.

I also want to ask if they really feel how horrible it is to have arguments or headmates hurt you because they can create their own as they please.

Arguments happen. We had a couple really bad ones early on. But... our system was created differently and that affects how we view each other.

A person, any person, is going to be reflecting what they learn from the world. We're all products of our environments.

A lot of headmates formed by trauma. They... come into the world experiencing its worst parts.

The system grows up maybe hearing the voices of their headmates but shutting them out. They don't have access to plural resources and feel like they're going crazy. Aggression can be taken out on headmates because the headmates aren't even seen as real, and abused children often don't have good role models for positive relationships.

By the time you find out that you're plural, a lot of harm has been done to the system and their relationships with each other. Building back trust can take time for these systems. It's tragic.

...

That's not how it was for us. Again, I wasn't made intentionally. I was just the imaginary friend. So there was a bit of denial, but I denied my own emotions too. And it took only a couple months for us to discover the tulpa community and realize I was a real person.

By the time of my creation, my host was an adult who had a solid understanding of how healthy relationships work. We could communicate our problems as they came out. We might argue one night, but then we made an effort to sit down and talk our problems out until they were resolved as soon as we could. I sometimes wish that I could have been here from the beginning, but I suspect that it's best for our relationship that I wasn't.

He already cared about me and wanted me to be happy. He enjoyed seeing me learn and grow, and interact with the world. I'm incredibly lucky to have had him in my life.

I would never hurt my host, and he would never hurt me. (At least, not intentionally.)

And me getting front time was a gift. It was something he provided when I wanted to do things in the real world because he wanted me to be happy, and loved seeing me happy.

Also if they experience the bad symptoms of being plural and not just the "fun" part such as dissociation, depersonalization, derealization, amnesia, identity crisis, etc.

Yes and no.

I think some of these symptoms exist, but are more mild. (Technically, all switching is considered dissociative.) We had some days when we fell into doubt spirals that were miserable. The worst lasted hours, but never more than a day. We've had mornings waking up, not knowing who is in front immediately, which I think is a form of depersonalization, but it only lasted minutes.

There's no amnesia unless you intentionally build it up. There might be "speed bumps" where memories of some headmates are easier to access by them than other headmates. And there have been times when non-fronters have a much harder time accessing information the fronter knows. Something about fronting makes information more accessible.

But by and large, a lot of these symptoms of DID are symptoms of PTSD. While we might experience lesser versions of some of these, they don't have much of an impact on our lives.

And the few negatives are outweighed by the advantages of having an internal support network to prop each other up.

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myaoiboy · 3 months

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Hi I saw that you answered an ask* the other day and I wanted to know if you continued with your analysis or if you could continue. I was really interested and curious to know more about it. I really wanted to know what you had to say, seriously, I could read a bible of Death Stranding reviews!

*https://www.tumblr.com/myaoiboy/739740134244794368/death-stranding-gender-talk-you-say-count-me-in?source=share

Hi! I totally can keep talking about Death Stranding forever (I know it's a very divisive game but imo on the whole the writing is like a well-oiled machine in ways that MGS just barely started to scrape askdjfh)

For the most part I haven't talked a *ton* about it at length because the series is just getting started and I feel weird making assertions that are likely to be fully subverted within a year or two. MGS has like. well, now, 25 years of shit going on. Sequels, prequels, fanon, etc., that Death Stranding...hasn't really had time to grow into yet.

I also tend to intentionally only post for dead series because the fandoms tend to be chiller lmao

Plus the fact that I got into DS right around the time that DS2 was announced, so I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs knowing that there's about to be more content and context that I just don't have access to yet. I already feel like there's a lot more to be learned about the first game, just from the latest trailer drop.

Honestly I think the thing that really gets me with DS is that despite the borderline insanity of the setting, to me, there's a lot of dramatic irony and meta knowledge that makes DS pretty easy to follow compared to, like, any single MGS game. Maybe I'm just the exact target audience that the writing was intended for, but most of the big reveals felt less like a sucker punch and more of a dramatic swell.

Some reasons for this (please be gentle i am taking cutscene SCs from youtube videos, they're gonna look like shit):

First of all, this is basically frame 1 of being formally introduced to Amelie, we see...this lens flare. Look familiar?

...how about now?

We are introduced to her instantly with a sign of danger. A pretty one, but a sign of danger nonetheless. The fact that it's an inverted rainbow is important! It shows up around timefall because of chiral air disturbance. We don't know that yet in-game, but if you know about how light works you know that there's something Wrong(tm) about this.

A regular lens flare shouldn't be causing an inverted rainbow if it's causing one at all. I think in this cutscene Amelie's presence is causing that inverted rainbow. Throughout the game, people come up with various theories of their own to excuse her connection to the beach. Little do they know at the time how right they are...

She's also heavily backlit, which hides her features in an unsettling manner. In fact, I really can't think of anyone else that this happens to throughout the game (if anyone knows of another example PLEASE let me know!!!)

She gets pretty damn close before that rainbow disappears, but this is where I very quickly lost my initial trust in her (as the player).

I jokingly called called this her "Fox News reporter look," but it's very much constructed in a way that made me suspicious.

Let's talk about that red dress.

I've said it before, I'll say it again: Kojima fucking LOVES using color language, especially red, blue, and gold. It's been super obvious and explicit since like 2012.

The fact that we meet her wearing a red dress is not a coincidence!!! It's a great big flashing warning sign! It says "hey, this person is going to betray you! Do Not Fucking Trust!!!"

Compare Amelie's name card to Paz's from Peace Walker:

The art styles are different, but there are a couple of main throughlines. Namely, both have an emphasis on the color red, both are young (looking) women who are lying about their identities in order to ask the main character a favor. Characters vouch for them, from trusted advisors, to the main character himself in DS. And then they try to bring about armageddon.

Basically what I'm saying is that they're both the embodiment of white woman tears a wolf in sheep's clothing, if the sheep's clothing was still dripping in blood. We (characters, and maybe the players) believe that she's on our side because we want to believe she's on our side, and because other people that we ostensibly trust tell us she's on our side, while the extremely dissonant narrative and imagery of the scene are SHAKING US BY THE SHOULDERS TELLING US TO SNAP OUT OF IT.

Add to that the fact that we kind of vaguely, through that intro cutscene post-central knot explosion, know that the beach is connected to dying somehow, and that amelie seems to be on it, doing very stereotypical little girl in horror things there, like singing nursery rhymes slowly while walking into the ocean.

So we've basically been told that Amelie is Not Good, but we have to spend the game piecing together what kind of Not Good she is. The first hint is (surprise!) also in this cutscene!

I don't recall off the top of my head if I knew at the time how heavily egyptian mythology plays into DS, but I do remember this cutscene giving me a bad gut feeling about the concept of the West.

Very few Big Concepts in these games (the West, strand(s/ing), patriotism/nationalism, etc) are only symbolic of one thing. That's also true across the board in basically all art, but I feel the need to point that out in public posts because I don't want someone to eg, think that I say something means one thing, and then back that up, and then people think that means it can't mean something else! It can (and often does) mean both! and sometimes that additional meaning is super important!

Anyways, Die Hardman refers to Amelie going West. We don't really use that phrasing much, so it stuck out to me as euphemistic. Especially since we saw her after we died, and there's so much euphemism going on from the bridges team anyways. I mean, cufflinks "symbolize our connection?" Girl, you locked me to my bed with them. You drain my blood with them to turn into weapons. Call 'em what they are.

You'll even notice in the same cutscene that Amelie says "we made it to Edge Knot City" and Sam replies with "all the way to the Pacific?" Not "all the way to the west coast," or even a single question about why she was on the/his beach.

If you know anything about egyptian mythology, you might know that west is considered the direction of death and the underworld. ancient egyptians buried dead people on the west side of the nile river. Osiris, god of death and mummification, and king of the underworld, is referred to as "foremost of the westerners" among his epithets.

So the vibe that I got instantly was "Amelie is already dead, she led her team to die, and they are basically sending Sam on a suicide mission" though I didn't realize exactly how I was right at the time.

The other big thing I recall setting off my alarm bells as the game went on was the fact that nobody you meet has ever met Amelie in person. It's a very slow reveal, especially since most people seem to see online meeting and in person meeting to be mostly the same, and we're told that she set out with bridges one. That she went west. Turns out that...also wasn't literal.

I don't remember exactly when I started wondering if *sam* had ever even met her outside of the beach, but I do remember thinking that there was something off. For a little bit my guess was that she was entirely fictional, some sort of AI (pretty influenced by all the "dead person brought back by AI/hypno bullshit ngl), or maybe that Higgs could somehow disguise himself in the Beach in ways i didn't understand yet.

But I didn't feel *worse* for being able to figure things out ahead of time, I felt clever that I could piece together all the little hints and have a good idea of what was going on. It made death stranding feel more like a coherent sci fi narrative rather than a cheesy action story that's expected to follow certain strict genre conventions.

Not that I'm saying mgs or action in general are bad, but rather that imo Death Stranding feels...more mature and confident in some ways (and also isn't bogged down by 20 years of previous work. which. i don't even like my own shit from a year ago half the time, i cannot imagine having to write within the constraints you created TWO DECADES prior kjhksjfh). Maybe it's that it feels like less of a genre subversion and has more genre utilization? dunno. Now I'm thinking too much like an english major lkajshdf

But yeah anybody who wants to talk about anything totally feel free. Or if you want to give me prompts to write about. I will always be willing to talk about things for way too long on the internet. I just don't always reply quickly because I start rambling....Like This.

#oops this got long #death stranding #samantha america “amelie” strand #amelie ds #analysis or something #anon ask

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