#how can they be a family without psychological warfare?

[nerfpuncher]

Crosshair: Every time Echo annoys me I find the book he is reading and move the mark a few pages ahead so he thinks he is going insane.

#star wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #how can they be a family without psychological warfare? #incorrect bad batch quotes

[bookworm-with-coffee]

The Greatest Heist of All. . .

(How they react to your pet - Slytherin Boys x Reader)

Plot; Niffler inspired crackfics

Pairings; Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Romantic), Ominis Gaunt x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; jealousy, coarse language, floofity fluff

________________________________________

Sebastian Sallow

When Sebastian first laid eyes on that Niffler, he knew trouble would start. In rescuing creatures, you had come to love many of them, but none more than those greedy little—

The brunette fumed at the thought of them. Those cute little beady eyes had won you over that day you'd both gone walking in the woods for a picnic date. That's when you'd stumbled upon a den of Nifflers.

Of course, most ran away. But, one remained. One annoying little—

Unafraid and curious, the little creature had sniffled and shuffled closer to you both.

"Mind your pockets", Sebastian commented, your hand waving to dismiss his words without a care.

"Look at you!!", you'd cooed at the little one, your boyfriend hardly sharing your enthusiasm on the creature.

You admired the blue fur on his back, reaching keenly to pet the cheeky little thing before it practically clambered onto your lap and into your arms. Sebastian's eyes rolled as your arms engulfed the Niffler, stroking your hands along his smooth hairs.

Attention went from your date to your uninvited guest, and after some time, Sebastian grew impatient and perhaps, a bit jealous as well?

"Alright, great. You've pet it. Now, can we go?", he huffed, raising a brow.

You pouted up at your boyfriend, the Niffler eagerly accepting your affections, "I don't want to just leave him here".

"He's a wild animal", the brunette reasoned. "He has a family. He'll be fine". But, the Niffler also seemed to share your resolve, not wishing to leave your kind embrace.

"I think— I want to keep him".

Oh God. Oh no—

"Nifflers are little thieves!", Sebastian insisted. "Who wants a pet that could rob you blind??".

Kneeling by your side, your freckled partner laid a gentle hand on your back before sliding it down to hold your spare hand in his attempt to coax you away.

The Niffler saw Sebastian's possessive behaviour and recognised it as a similar behaviour to those of his own kind. Could it be that you were valuable? Not gold, but a treasure as yourself?? This would be his biggest win yet, if that were so.

Sebastian's brown hues drifted to the Niffler, whose attitude had become a bit more insistent. The creature's eyes met his own and without breaking contact, deliberately snuggled into your chest, even daring to lay a possessive paw by your shoulder as if to say, mine.

Oh, it was on.

In the weeks that followed, things grew worse.

Every time there was even a mention of Sebastian, your Niffler saw fit to jump into your lap or arms to draw your attention.

Sebastian was at breaking point. Each time he spoke with you, there was that miscreant stirring him up. He'd even taken to insisting that the thing was evil, to your amusement.

Once or twice, the brunette even went as far as to mouth, "I'm watching you!", from over your shoulder, making the signal with his hands when you weren't looking.

It was unbelievable. A Niffler participating in some form of torturous psychological warfare. And Sebastian wouldn't let him win. You were his.

Then, your owl came and the existential dread continued.

Sebastian,

Would you be so kind as to babysit my Niffler? You'd be doing me a HUGE favour, as I'm away for most of the day on Saturday and he'll be left with no supervision and company.

Love always,

(Y/n) ♡

Bloody thing can starve, was his first thought, finally inwardly relenting when he thought of the consequences. You'd hate him forever if he did that.

So, it was off to your home he'd have to go.

"You boys behave while I'm gone", you'd teasingly instructed with a pointed finger and Sebastian played it off with a forced smile.

"Don't rush", he shrugged, making sure to pull you into the most passionate kiss he could offer, hoping the Niffler would weep on the inside.

"Sebastian", you giggled against his lips, almost tempted to stay for a more intimate moment were it not for your plans. "I am coming back".

His forehead leant on your own, the Niffler forgotten whilst his hands drew imaginary patterns on your waist. "I'll be waiting with bated breath", the brunette whispered, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. "I love you".

"I love you too", you sighed, allowing only one more peck on the lips before your parting.

Until the Niffler scuttled to you, pulling on the fabric of your blouse from where he sat on a table. "Oh, Darling", you fawned, Sebastian resisting the urge to hurl. "I'd nearly forgotten you!!". Lifting the creature, you kissed the top of his head. "Mama will be back soon, okay? Behave for your Dad".

Oh, God. He really was going to be sick.

Giving a final wave of your hand, you were off and away, Sebastian's unimpressed glower falling onto the Niffler beside him. "I am not your Dad".

The Niffler seemed to chatter, something akin to mischievous laughter. And I'm not going to behave.

Some of the most horrible hours of Sebastian's life came to follow.

It was one incident after the other, resulting in a few smashed vases and a bruised ego for Sebastian.

"That's it!", he finally snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at the little creature. "I've had it!! Whatever, it is!!".

As if scolding a child, Sebastian continued, "(Y/n) may think you're adorable, but I know the truth, you conniving thief! You might have fooled her, but you don't fool me!! And if you think for one second that—".

"Sebastian?".

His face paled, hearing the voice of his love and the Niffler took his chance. The mischievous creature began to sniffle, as if it were crying, before faking a limp whilst walking to you.

"What happened??", you cried out, spying the shards of a broken vase by the bench, still not cleaned up because of one little Niffler. Your attention instantly diverted to your pet, seemingly in hurt. "What did you do, Sebastian?!".

"What did I do??", he repeated incredulously. "I didn't do anything to him! It was that damn creature running amok!!".

All the while, you were focused on the aforementioned miscreant, feeding into his lies and infuriating Sebastian further.

"He's evil, (Y/n)! That thing needs to go!!".

"That 'thing', is Jeffrey!", you shot back.

"Oh?? So, it has a name now??".

Your eyes bore into the brunette's, searching his darker hues in silent scrutiny for a moment before you spoke again.

"You're jealous".

Those words made him stiffen, silencing any comebacks he'd bottled inside.

"That's ridiculous", Sebastian offered, too weak to be an argument.

"You are!", your mouth fell open, drawing your boyfriend's brows together.

"I am not jealous!".

"By Merlin", you gasped, trying to restrain any laughter threatening to spill out. "You're jealous. Of a Niffler?? ".

"He gets in the way!", Sebastian yelled, harsher than intended. "You're always giving him your attention, I hardly get it anymore! He's also consciously trying to steal you from me, for whatever reason!".

"Steal me?", your brow rose, a few giggles slipping out before your expression softened. Your eyes shifted to Jeffrey, noting that he was uncharacteristically fine for a creature so 'hurt' and you stroked over his fur, placing him aside. "You'll be fine".

The Niffler watched as you approached Sebastian, bringing him into an embrace. Your fingers combed through the soft waves of his hair and down to the nape of his neck, allowing him to melt in your arms.

"Sebastian", you sighed, shaking your head only slightly. "You're right. My attention from you has been divided. And while Jeffrey's behaviour was far from innocent—". You pulled back, running your fingertips over his face, encouraging his eyes to meet yours. "— I will never be stolen away from you. No Human or Niffler can steal me from the one who matters most to me. There's only one Sebastian Sallow. And that's rarer than any treasure".

A smile finally returned to Sebastian's face, the gap closing between you both. Your lips met his, gentle and breezy, calming the fires of anger and jealousy that had once stoked within his heart.

"I'll make us a cup of tea", you whispered, tapping the brunette on his nose, leaving only the brightest of smiles in your wake as you brushed by.

Sebastian turned his attention to the little shit sitting on the nearby counter, his tongue darting out teasingly. "I win".

The Niffler's head seemed to dip, suddenly sad and deflated. A pang of guilt hit Sebastian in that moment and it made him relent to the small creature.

"Fine", he grumbled, unable to fight his growing smile. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but–". He offered his hand. "— friends?". Jeffrey sniffled, almost seeming to nod in agreement when he extended his paw. "Just don't push your luck".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Ominis Gaunt

The day Ominis met your pet Niffler was utterly magical.

You had lead him into your vivarium for the first time, introducing him to the array of magical creatures that were under your care.

Ominis got to feel the smooth and pristine feathers of a Joberknoll, the fluffy hairs of a Puffskein; and the beak of your Hippogriff, Highwing.

And then the cherry on top; your Niffler.

Nifflers were curious, but harmless creatures. They were notorious for stealing jewels, treasure, coins— anything that sparkled, really. With their affectionate nature and reputation for an adorable stature, it was not a mystery as to why you chose to keep the Niffler you rescued from poachers.

The blonde had always wanted to meet one of those cute little theives and in knowing this, you'd excitedly given him the opportunity.

"Where is he??", Ominis had asked, unable to mask the way his voice travelled an octave higher in his anticipation.

"This way!", he was able to hear the grin in your tone, widening his own as he eagerly allowed himself to be tugged along by the pale tips of his nimble fingers.

You'd gently helped the blonde to be seated on the soft grass, almost finding yourself mesmerised with how the sunlight struck his delicate features.

Whistling and clicking your fingers, there was a shuffling in the grass as something approached. It had startled Ominis only slightly, the new grip of your hand over his own settling him.

You guided his hand forward as you had done so before, his palm finally landing on something soft. A short gasp heaved from the blonde, his lashes fluttering at the new sensations beneath his skin.

There was the rapid rising and falling of the little creature's breaths as he sniffed over the new guest of the vivarium.

A smile carved its way onto Ominis' expression, hesitantly stroking over the little creature beneath his grasp. Your hand lead his over the Niffler's head and snuffling snout, a breathy laugh slipping from the blonde when the small breaths tickled his skin.

Long had he dreamed about this..

"Ominis, I'd like you to meet Sebastian", you laughed at the sudden quizzical look that dawned on your counterpart's expression.

"Sebastian?", Ominis echoed with a quirk of his brow. "You named your Niffler after our friend? ".

No, he wasn't jealous. Not at all.

"Only because he gets into so much trouble", you giggled. "He also has these adorable speckles on his fur around his face. Lilac fur with faded spots".

"Like freckles", he nodded in understanding, trying to fight the deflation dampening his initial excitement. "Does Sebastian know that you've named your 'child' after him?".

Ominis was sure that with the amount of time you'd spent with Sebastian on various escapades in the fifth year and the closeness you still shared now in your seventh, that the brunette had undoubtedly been the first to be shown the Room of Requirement and these lovely creatures.

Perhaps Sebastian was the better suitor for you??

"No, actually", your amused answer shocked Ominis. "I've never brought him here. He doesn't even know of this place".

"He doesn't?", the blonde's brows creased in a bout of confusion. "I thought he'd be the first to know of this place".

"What do you mean??".

Ominis' heart had begun to beat frantically within his chest whilst he'd attempted to play his jealousy and nerves off with a smile, as he often did when it came to your friendship with Sebastian.

"I— I just meant that you two are close", he replied with a tug of his shoulders. "I thought you might have been more inclined to show him over me, is all. I was only confused as to why it was the contrary".

In the few seconds of thoughtful silence that followed, you both had taken notice to the warmth of your hand that still lingered on his own, neither of you daring to separate them. Instead, your fingers slowly inched into the gaps between his own, hinting your intentions with your words,

"Do you not know?".

Ominis squeezed the digits threaded with his own like they were a life-raft, assuring you of his consent before your lips had taken his own in careful caresses.

Absolutely magical.

Or so he'd thought at the time, not realizing he'd just unknowingly declared war against a very protective Niffler.

Ominis dismissed it as paranoia at first, just shrugging off the seemingly possessive behaviour the little creature conveyed.

But, it had become apparent over the many weeks that it wasn't just his imagination playing tricks on him..

The Niffler was clearly jealous of your diverted attention. Ominis had figured that out rather quickly.

Just as the Niffler had figured out how to push his buttons. Like Sebastian.

Whenever you both had picnics in the vivarium or brought Ominis along to help in the care of your creatures, Sebastian lived up to his name.

The mischeievous miscreant always managed to get in the way, snatching Ominis' wand from his robes so that he wouldn't be able to find you or the other creatures before misplacing it to make it look as if it had dropped out by mistake.

You thought that's all it was, despite Ominis knowing and insisting otherwise.

Then, it was the Niffler napping on your lap whenever Ominis wanted to. And of course, you were a sucker for that adorable little shit. He could do no evil, apparently.

Holding hands? The Niffler went out of his way to pry the blonde's hand from yours, snuggling under yours to draw your attention; even going as far as to shove Ominis' hand away and preoccupy your palm with his paw.

Sitting together? Sebastian interfered with that too, worming his annoying little self between your bodies so that he could sit in the middle as a barrier to separate you both.

Whenever Ominis wanted time with you, Sebastian was always there. It was like the Niffler had been incarnated with a piece of his best friend's soul, always troublesome and always interfering.

Ominis finally hit breaking point when the little shit decided to make off not only with his wand, but with the handmade necklace he'd bought from Feldcroft in his most recent visit.

The blonde planned to give it to you as a gift, but even he should've known better than to have it in his pockets when visiting the vivarium to carry out a favour for you, his beloved.

Whilst you would be attending to family business today, he would care for your creatures. Something that was turning out to be a complete impossibility.

In Sebastian's mouth? Ominis' wand.

In his paws?? The necklace.

"Come back here, you little rat! Give those back, Sebastian!!", he cried out, only able to follow the scuttling in the grass and the jingling of the jewellery in the Niffler's greedy grasp.

Wheezing and panting, Ominis crawled and sprinted around, the Niffler releasing an occasional squeak whenever he got close. Until—

"Got you!", the blonde shouted, finding a grip on the Niffler that struggled desperately in his grasp.

It soon became clear that he was holding the little miscreant upside down, coins seeming to pour out of his marsupial-like pouch. His paws were still occupied with the necklace he'd stolen, whining in despair at the loss of his precious coins as they rained down to the floor.

"Serves you right!", Ominis seethed, breathless from his pursuit.

In a sense of victory, the blonde's lips curled into a grin, his fingertips running along the Niffler's belly. The creature chattered as if he were laughing, especially ticklish at the gentle prodding. More coins and jewels rained out as Ominis' fingers reached his sniffling snout.

Quickly snatching his wand back from the little creature's jaw, he boasted, "I win", before reaching for Sebastian's paws.

Ominis caught ahold of the necklace, but the Niffler's grip was like iron.

"Sebastian, give it to me", the blonde chided, tugging on the precious piece of jewellery. "Come on, Sebastian".

The Niffler struggled and resisted, never being more keen to possess anything in his life. Even the measly coins Ominis tried to trade couldn't compare to the necklace and he wasn't willing to break it.

"You stubborn mule! Fine!!", he snapped, huffing as he set Sebastian loose.

Dejected, the blonde sat himself down, soon recieving the company of your Puffskein as it nuzzled into his side. Despite his sadness, even he was unable to resist smiling at the affectionate creature.

Ominis reached over to pet the Puffskein, your mischievous Niffler watching from a distance. All of his lost coins were on the ground by the blonde's legs, but it wasn't them that drew Sebastian back.

It was the realisation that Ominis could love him just as much as you could. That his love was not a threat to the friendship you shared with your favourite pet.

Perhaps he'd tried stealing the wrong person??

Ominis seemed just as compassionate, if not moreso.

His attention soon became divided from the Puffskein when the cool and delicate metal of a necklace was dropped into his palm. The blonde almost couldn't believe it.

A Niffler?? Returning something shiny??

And then it clicked. It wasn't of value to him, but a ploy to sabotage your relationship with Ominis. Sebastian had felt threatened.

"Thank you", Ominis whispered, his lips curling out of amusement as the little creature began to shuffle around and pick up the coins that had dropped.

Perhaps Sebastian was more alike to his human counterpart than the blonde first realised? He has a heart of gold too, although it rarely shows.

And upon your return to the vivarium, you were delighted to find things resolved between your pet and boyfriend, knowing tensions and jealousy had been spiked between the two.

There, Ominis laid on the grass asleep, a freckled lilac Niffler upon his chest.

Your plan had worked..

The End. . .

___________________________________________

Hey readers!! ❤❤ I hope you all enjoyed these fics as much as I loved writing them!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!

So, please - let me know how I went in writing for Sebastian and Ominis for the first time and how to improve, if I can! If you wished to be added to my taglist for this fandom or any others I write for, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in!

Thank you all for your support!! ❤❤❤

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #slytherin boys #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #fanfiction #my writing #gifs not mine

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed me? Pt 3

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: stepcest/inappropriate relationships, cheating, kissing, flashback, past minor injury, angry/kinda violent thoughts

Info: honestly ur mom is rlly good at psychological warfare

You ran with Chewie in tow, your lungs on fire as you attempted to get home as quickly as possible. You skid to a stop on the pavement outside your house, the scene unfolding before you hitting you hard. Your mom, stomping out to her car and slamming the door shut. Throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the driveway without even glancing your way. You could physically feel the air blowing past you as she sped off out of the neighborhood.

You walked inside, terrified you’d find a mess. But to your surprise everything was in its place. You unclipped Chewie’s leash and let her roam about inside the house until she found a cool spot on the floor.

You could hear Anakin still working in the garage, he’d turned on some music to keep him company. Maybe you overreacted? She probably didn’t think anything of it right? It’s innocent enough. Anakin is notorious for leaving grease and oil stains in places they should never be. Like the time you painted your palm shoe-polish black just from opening the fridge.

It was nothing. Right? Anakin would be in here upset and waiting for you if something had happened, so everything must be fine. You thought back to your earlier conversation with your mom and recalled how annoyed she seemed about that coding mishap.

Relief spread through you, she was extremely anal about her work. A perfectionist through and through, maybe she’d received word the damage was worse than she originally thought. That would definitely warrant nascar level driving in her eyes.

Even so, you felt the need to placate her when she returned. After a shower and a clean set of comfy clothes you set about cleaning the main floor of the house thoroughly. Scrubbing each surface clean, vacuuming, mopping windex-ing the windows. You even cleared out the leftovers and expired items from the fridge. Going so far as to jot down the items that needed replacing.

Trotting over to the cork board mounted on the wall of the short hall leading to the laundry room and the garage door. This was where everything of importance lived, bills, grocery lists, to-do lists, even a family calendar. Something in red ink had been added to the calendar for tomorrow and you nearly stabbed yourself with a push pin when you read it.

‘Date Night 6:00 @Marzettis’

Written in the ridiculously neat and proper cursive that only could’ve belonged to your mother. If you measured the PSI of your bite force right now, you were one hundred percent sure it would be enough to bite off your mother’s writing hand. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you heard your molars squeak in protest.

Jabbing the list into the cork with the pushpin you let out a breath that you’d been holding long enough to make you alittle lightheaded.

Calm down. They’re married. Married people go on dates. Anakin can’t really reject his own wife can he? No. No he can’t. It’s okay.

You shook out your anger, resolving yourself to ignore the fact that your stomach was churning with nerves and your tongue burned with unspoken venom. There was still things to do. And doing things is good. Scrubbing every centimeter of the bathroom shower with such aggression that you permanently bent the bristles of your favorite scrub brush was definitely a healthy alternative to committing a felony.

Hours passed and Anakin finally returned from the garage sending the current vehicle he was working on back to its owner a full day early. It’s amazing what alittle midmorning pussy pick-me-up can do for a man.

It also probably helped that your tiny arms shaved off at least an hours work of dismantling parts of the engine that were in his way of retrieving the piece he actually needed to extract. Though he’d milk his coincidental success as the result of your passionate rekindling for all that it’s worth. It couldn’t hurt to test out that theory a few times could it?

“Whoa.” He snorted, seeing you to his left scrubbing the inside of the washing machine. “What the hell are you doing?”

You lifted your head a bit too fast and wacked it on the lip of the washer, immediately wincing and bringing a hand to rub the top of your head.

“Apparently I’m doing my damndest to give myself a concussion.” You joked, glancing over at him in his sweaty, greasy clothes.

“There’s this guy who has disgusting laundry, that occasionally leaves residue in the washer.” You dramatically explained.

“So I’m doing him a favor and saving him from an accidental repeat of the fancy hand-towel stain incident of 2020.” You grinned and watched as Anakin mirrored your expression.

“Lucky man.” He chuckled, coming over to give you a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to shower.

Dinner rolled around and you decided to order in, the local Chinese restaurant had the best egg rolls around, and that was just what you needed. You texted your mother to ask for her order and jotted yours and Anakin’s down on a scrap of paper.

~be home alittle late. Just get some Udon for me.~ She responded quickly.

Easy enough. You called in the order and it was delivered and delicious in around 30 minutes. You spread out the feast on the kitchen counter and laughed at Anakin practically drooling over the crab rangoons he was shoveling into his mouth.

“So whens she gonna be home?” He asked, not even bothering to cover his mouth despite chewing like his life depended on it.

“She just said late.” You shrugged, late could mean anything. 10 minutes, an hour; it’s a ridiculous measure of time that you’d always had trouble accepting.

“Well.” He clicked his tongue as he popped open a cold beer from the fridge. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Oh actually, you know what he haven’t done in a while?” You grinned.

“Housewives?” He smirked.

“Yes sir. Take your pick.” You scooped up your take-out box and made a beeline for your favorite seat, the comfy and worn out recliner.

“I’m thinkin’ New Jersey.” He mused, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and searching for your guilty pleasure show.

There’s something comforting about watching someone else’s life like this. Honestly you found it… strangely calming to know that other people have more stressful lives than you. And of course it didn’t hurt that you really loved a bratty cat-fight. Scripted or not, it was undeniably as entertaining as a train wreck.

It would seem that your mother’s definition of ‘late’ was around 45 minutes, she walked in the door as chipper as ever. Doing wonders for your earlier worries; nothing seemed amiss to her.

She took in your comfortable nest of blankets in your recliner, Anakin’s lanky legs draped over the armrest of the couch with his head propped on a pillow. She was… assessing the scene and found no evidence of any foul deeds.

“It was a good idea for take out.” She said, tossing her items on the table. “I’ve missed these noodles.”

“Oh I know.” You agreed. “I saved an egg roll for you.”

“Thanks sweetie.” She said, flashing a blank stare and an empty smile over her shoulder that went unnoticed by the both of you.

“So Marzettis, is that alright for tomorrow?” She asked Anakin sitting on the couch near him with her food.

“That new Italian place?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “That’s the one Obi took Satine to isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” she nodded, seemingly pleased he remembered. “They gushed about it so much I figured it was time we try it.”

“Alright, as long as there’s breadsticks I’m happy.” Anakin smiled.

Meanwhile you were boiling in your seat as you listened to their conversation. Just like in an old cartoon you swore the top of your head would screw itself off and rattle with white hot steam. Honestly, you wished it would. That might just be the only way to get rid of this pressure in your skull without *actually* combusting.

You suffered through their small talk and meaningless conversation about blah, blah and blah. Finally, the episode of Housewives ended and you made your quick egress to your room with a wave goodnight.

You lay awake in bed, planning your to-do list for the next day. You needed to keep yourself busy and entertained to avoid falling victim to the wallowing hole of self pity that is your mind’s way of ‘coping’ with your jealousy.

To-Do:

Wake up

Scream

Nap

Repeat

Perfect.

You woke up, unsure as to when you actually fell asleep; though arguably in a 73% better mood just from the simple fact that you could hear power tools being used in the garage. It was comforting. The noise used to bother you, irk you to the edge of insanity, because who in their right mind would wake up and use the loudest power tools known to man at 6:00am?

Anakin would.

Every time you woke up to the noise, it reminded you of your first kiss, what could be a better way to wake up? Except for maybe an actual kiss from him.

You had stomped from your room to the garage, having been woken up at 6:00am *on summer break* for the previous 4 days. You threw the door open and yelled for him, but he didn’t hear you. Between the loud grinding sound of metal on metal and the earbuds he had in, you had little choice but to pull something dramatic.

Spotting the extension cord you had unplugged it and relished in the momentary silence before hearing Anakin cursing and repeatedly flipping the switch. You stood and observed with a self-satisfied grin, crossing your arms and jutting out your hip as you waited for his small man brain to figure out what happened.

Karma wasn’t something you believed in until right then, because without even looking up he yanked on the extension cord and the hard plastic socket whipped your thigh leaving an almost immediate bruise.

“Fuck!” You yelled, clenching your fists and biting back a string of words so hellish you might’ve burst into flames if you screamed like you wanted to.

Anakin’s head shot up and he ripped out his earbuds, momentarily confused when he didn’t see the source of the very angry curse word. That was until you hissed as you poked at the tender bruise.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, rounding the front end of the car to get to you. “Hey- hey sweetheart, what the hell are you doing down here? It’s awful early for you to be up.”

Oh that was it. That was not the thing to say to you right then. He could’ve called you a crybaby and you would’ve took it better than that innocent comment.

“Yeah? It’s awful early to be using whatever the fuck that thing is!” You grumbled, shaking his hand off your arm. “Do you seriously have to do that this early in the morning? Can’t you do something less… grating?!”

“Do you see any other vehicle here for me to work on?” He deadpanned.

“God you’re insufferable sometimes you know that?” You huffed, looking back down at your leg.

“Did you unplug that grinder I was using?” He asked accusingly.

“Yes I did.” You shot back. “It was getting on my fucking nerves Anakin.”

“Well shit- just let me-“ He sighed trying to pry your hands away from your thigh but you batted him away, swiping a droplet of blood across his wrist.

One of the sharp plastic corners had bit into your skin on impact and caused a teeny tiny nick. Though from the amount of blood trickling down your leg, one would automatically assume you had a proper slice of an injury.

“Baby c’mon just let me see? I’m sorry.” He said in a pained tone, you could tell he genuinely felt bad, even though this was mostly your fault.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” You had scoffed.

“Fine. My liege.” He grumbled sarcastically.

He approached with paper towels and crouched down to swat your hands away and dab gently at the wound, or rather, lack thereof. He attempted to hand you a paper towel to clean off your hand but you declined, anti-politely wiping off the blood onto his dirty work shirt.

“Are you serious right now?” He scowled.

“Are you almost done?” You countered, crossing your arms again.

“Yeah. It’s just a scratch. Turns out every inch of you is just as dramatic as your shit attitude.” He said, standing up, his height making you feel dwarfed.

“Yeah that’s what happens when-“ you started in an angry, belittling tone.

Though you were cut off and the world paused around you. You went stiff as he grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. Before you even registered what was happening top-side, your body had already begun to relax in his arms. His big strong, work-worn hands pulling you into him while he slipped his tongue between your lips. Gliding lightly just behind your top row of teeth before you finally gave in and kissed him back.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed know content when he released your waist to cradle your head with both hands, your own fisting his shirt as you kissed like your lives depended on it.

“Hey! You up?” Your mom knocked loudly on your door and broke the trance of the sweet memory. That 73%? Reduced to 32%.

“Yes.” You huffed and rolled out of bed, unlocking your door and letting her in.

“Great, I want to borrow a dress of yours is that okay?” She asked, heading to your closet before you could even respond.

No way. Absolutely no way. She was not wearing that.

“No. Pick something else.” You said sternly, taking the red summer dress and hanging it back up.

“What why?” She questioned.

“Because it has a hole in it.” You lied, “can’t have you going on your big date like that.”

“I didn’t see a hole.” She countered, going to grab it again.

“Trust me. There’s a hole.” And they’ll be another one: in the ground for her if she didn’t accept defeat on this.

“Fine.” She scoffed and drug out a few more options under your watchful eye.

“This one?” She asked.

“Yeah that one’s fine. It’ll look great.” You forced a smile and tracked her during her retreat down the hall.

As soon as she entered her room you slammed your own door shut and locked it again. You went straight to your closet and got the red dress, folding it and tucking it into the bottom of your sock drawer.

Was she intentionally trying to piss you off? No. She couldn’t have known. No one could’ve known other than you and Anakin. You had been so careful, going out of town for a date at the drive-in while your mom was away on a business trip. You’d worn that dress for Anakin and only Anakin, and you’d never worn it since that night, that first night.

In your state of confusion you didn’t notice the sound of Anakin’s garage noise die down.

Anakin had stopped for a coffee break and came inside, finding his wife at the kitchen counter. He gave her a quick smile and and poured some black coffee into a big thermos.

“Sugar? ‘Sugar’?” She asked sweetly, sliding the large sugar canister across the countertop to him.

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked slowly as if trying to rewind her words. “Yeah okay thanks.”

He shook his head and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in concentrated thought as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. The only person who has *ever* said that to him is you. That’s such a weird coincidence… what are the chances? It’s not like you call him ‘sugar’ any other time either. Only ever for the sake of making him smile when he fixes his coffee.

“Well. I’ll be out here then.” He said awkwardly, still very much miffed by the odd comment.

She ‘mhm’d’ in response, enjoying watching him slink back into the garage with his cheeks tinted in shame.

By the time 5:30 rolled around Anakin was in a nice button-up and dress pants, looking absolutely exquisite. That man really knew how to wear… anything, and nothing too. You had to ogle him from afar, watching his cute butt in those well-fit pants as he walked out the door following closely behind your mother. Who was wearing your dress.

You made a mental note to find an industrial shredder to take care of that ruined fabric when she returned it.

At Marzetti’s dinner was going well, much better than Anakin had expected to be honest. It was almost nice, in a weird way. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty… he couldn’t help but be startled every now and again when he glanced over and didn’t see you across the table from him. You’d love this place, and damn he’d love to see you in it. He just knew the lighting would show off those sexy bedroom eyes you *swore* you never knew when you were making.

The biggest downside was that this place was alittle too expensive to be wasted on your mother. This kind of luxury should be reserved for his princess.

After an hour’s worth of awkward small talk and stupid conversational questions, Anakin got up to use the restroom.

When he returned he was shocked to say the least. The table had been cleared and all that remained was the check, and a thick manila envelope, he hesitantly picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

Fast walking to the front of the restaurant he quickly paid, despite the hostess’s request for him to return to his table because ‘payment is collected at your seat’. He fumbled with his car keys and clicked the lock button to quickly locate his black vintage Camaro… no dice.

He stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, spinning slowly and spotting his parking spot… where the car *should* have been.

“That bitch took my fucking Camaro.” He whispered to himself, internally screaming at himself for being a responsible adult and having a spare set of keys safely stashed away.

He already had an idea of what was in that envelope, but now he didn’t even need to look at the title page. He just needed a goddamn pen.

Final Part

Tag-List:

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#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin #anakin skywalker x you #stepbro!anakin #stepdad!anakin #star wars x reader

[kastlequill]

iii/v. unearth without a name: the parent forced to eat its young before it grows

pairing: keegan p russ x f!reader word count: 3.2k synopsis: the third time you hallucinate keegan tags: whumptober, psychological warfare, injury, electrocution, brainwashing, hallucinations, hurt no comfort, established relationship, ghost!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: canon-typical violence, torture ao3: read here ← prev | next →

III.

Things didn’t get much better from there. In fact, the torture only worsened. 

The passage of time remained a disorienting illusion at best, but you were certain that you’d been in this hellhole longer than the less-than-professional portion of your relationship with. . . 

With Keegan. 

It hurt to think about him. Well, it hurt to think about any of the Ghosts, men who you had seen as your crew, your family, but matters surrounding the sergeant in particular were infinitely more painful. They had each promised you one thing and one thing only: short of death, they would sooner lose a limb or two than abandon you. He, however, had gone a step further, all but vowing to follow you to the ends of the earth. 

Of course, Keegan hadn’t exactly said as much, for such a confessional manner of speaking was beyond his realm of expertise. Still, it was difficult to dispute the torch he carried for you when one took into account the way he slipped his treasured rations of dried jerky into your back pocket, or how he gave you his undivided attention both in the field and in the privacy of his own quarters. 

Anybody with a pair of workin’ eyes can puzzle you idiots out in five seconds flat , Merrick had said once. Makes the rest of us sick. Sick, I tell you. 

Unfortunately, reality was often disappointing. And you were starting to believe that the only person who’d ever been wholly honest about their intentions with you was Rorke. 

The day you first had this passing thought was the day you officially relinquished your already-slippery grip on sanity, mind finally at a loss. Because nobody of a sound mental state would consider their captor, interrogator, and torturer to be a pillar of truth or a beacon of honesty. Nevertheless, he wasn’t the one who had given you false hope, nor had he been the one to abandon you here, leaving you to waste away and rot. From the get-go, this monster of a man had detailed the exact terrors he would inflict upon you and then subsequently followed through on his words. 

A part of you—the worn-down, bone-weary, hollowed-out part of you—respected that. 

“Why don't we start the day off with a bang, hm?” Rorke strapped your wrists down to the arms of the wooden chair in which you currently sat. Giving a sharp tug, he tightened the restraints until a tingling numbness radiated throughout the meat of your fingers. “Get the blood flowin’, so to speak.”

In your peripheral, two Feds were hooking you up to some sort of death machine, which looked like an entanglement of wires and an array of dials. Malnourishment slowed your ability to assess and process new information, so you couldn’t muster the energy to investigate whatever damage they had planned for you. 

Resistance was futile; at this point, the pain was inevitable, and the suffering was unavoidable. You possessed no power, you had no leverage, and you were losing faith in your comrades fast. Combined, it was a sure recipe for disaster. Yet, you had no choice but to see all this chaos through until it’s likely-bloody conclusion. 

Rorke took a seat in a chair of his own, positioning himself just a few feet across from you. Close enough to intimidate, but not within kicking distance. To calm your racing heart, you focused your attention onto the deep scar that sliced his left brow and trailed the contours of his face before abruptly stopping at the edge of his jaw. 

Your sense of curiosity briefly flickered to life, and you wondered if it was the handiwork of another Ghost. Maybe Merrick, your methodical, war-horse of a captain? Or the Elias Walker, known to you only in the form of tales told by his remaining men?

Regardless, the image of the healed wound birthed in you a furious desire to bestow a matching mark on the unblemished side.   

“First order of business,” the ex-Ghost began. “The Walker boy. Logan. Is he back in it again, runnin’ amok with that sorry brother of his? Haven’t seen either of their ugly mugs in a while.”

During the previous winter, you’d learned some of the details surrounding Logan’s capture and escape, both of which had occurred prior to your recruitment. Keegan had always been pretty tight-lipped about the subject, usually dismissing it altogether by redirecting you to ask Logan personally. And so you had. 

What he divulged had sickened you to the core.

Although he wasn’t a big talker, Logan Walker had unveiled the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth in a series of short fragments over the course of several weeks. His recounts weren’t always delivered in chronological order, for he occasionally jumped around as trauma poured out of him like an unleashed dam. He had spoken of the isolation and the disorientation, of the physical beatings and the mental lashings. Of reliving his father’s death again and again, of the apparition of his brother shouldering him with the blame. 

The most harrowing part, however, had been the brainwashing. The manipulation of the mind and its contents, the rearrangement of orderly thoughts, beliefs, memories into a locked state of disorder. Forcing the self to become a foreign object in its own native vessel. You had thus far managed to avoid undergoing such disfiguration. Still, considering Logan’s experience mirrored yours almost exactly, it was safe to assume that you wouldn’t remain unscathed. But where his strength and sheer tenacity had foiled Rorke’s plans, you weren’t optimistic that you’d be able to replicate his success. 

Even so, no matter the evils lurking in your future, you scorned the prospect of willingly revealing any information that could be used to harm your teammates. Especially Logan. Dying would be less of a burden on your soul than condemning him to this hellscape for a second time. He’d already endured it once; to curse him twice would be beyond cruel. 

Perhaps you were a tad bit self-sacrificing. You ignored the bitter, unwelcome voice from within that questioned whether the Ghosts would do the same for you if the roles were reversed. 

Finally ready to reply, your head jerked to the left, then to the right. No.

A harsh exhale escaped his nostrils, like Rorke had expected the small defiance but was nonetheless disappointed. He snapped his fingers. 

“Wrong answer.”

To punctuate the detached statement, a sudden current of what could only be described as concentrated lightning flowed into you. Your nerves caught fire, and every single muscle housed inside of you responded by contracting painfully. The sensation caused your joints to lock, stunning you into submission. 

You felt your eyes roll back, but you willed them to refocus, threats all around. It was the sole method of motion still under your conscious control, for the rest of your body was seemingly trapped in an electric prison. However, when you glanced up at Rorke, a blurry figure to his left stole your attention instead. 

Brows furrowing, you blinked rapidly to wash away the hazy features you had grown to love, but the mirage of Keegan remained. You would’ve noticed the sharp sting of an injection, so, unlike the previous two instances, this particular hallucination hadn’t been induced by drugs. It was a break in the pattern. 

I’m going insane. Great. 

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you. We’ve got ways of verifying, y’see, so cut the shit.” A nasty, blood-curling grin spread across Rorke’s lips. His soulless vessel swelled with delight as he unleashed another cruel stream of words. “Those sons of bitches can’t be worth all this. You’re nothing to them. Nothing. They didn’t think twice ‘bout sendin’ you off to die an undignified death, alone, and yet you wanna protect them?”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue, the expression on his face morphing into a strange mix of disgust and pity. “What a damn waste.”

Another snap, another electric shock. Those two Federation technicians must have increased the number of amperes or the voltage, for this wave trumped the previous in its overwhelming intensity. 

God, you weren’t built for this. Sure, all the Ghosts had to undergo conditioning and interrogation training. But Merrick, Keegan, Hesh, and Logan had been navigating war and its unforgiving brutality for almost their entire lives. In contrast, you’d been a plain and ordinary civilian up until the moment Keegan dragged you out from beneath a pile of rubble not even three years ago. 

For your dauntless comrades, who had confronted and conquered Death many times over, a little electrocution was indeed light work. For you, however, it wasn’t so.

Perhaps an additional year of experience would’ve solidified this weakness into something ironclad. Keegan had been giving you private lessons after sunset in an attempt to speed the learning process along, but your capture had indefinitely suspended such sessions. Thus, here you would remain, unrefined and incomplete.

At present, clouding your vision with the view of your torturer was more preferable than seeing the resigned disappointment on your lover’s war-painted face.

“Y’know,” Rorke mused, “the Federation could use a soldier like you. Someone with your kind of loyalty.”

You temporarily forgot your vow of silence and gave a derisive snort. The loyalty you had for the Ghosts hadn’t been acquired through material means; no amount of promised money or power in the world had a chance of swaying you. Bonds born of bruises and blood were damn near impenetrable and immortal.  

That level of devotion couldn’t be fabricated or repurposed. 

“Now, now, there’s no need to look so sour.” He bared his teeth, donning a devilish smile. “We’ll have you singin’ a different tune soon enough.”

This is it, you thought. This is where things get ugly. 

As if the steaming pile of shit that Rorke had already dumped on you wasn’t bad enough. Still, objectively speaking, the brainwashing Logan had described would be leagues worse than even the most brutal torture you’d withstood yet. Because it wouldn’t just entail physical duress; your mental faculties would be taken hostage and subjected to radical change.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” he challenged, cocking a single brow. “Choice is yours. I’m partial to the hard way, myself.”

No answer left your lips, which was in and of itself an answer. One that elicited a sigh from Rorke and an eyebrow raise from Keegan.

“Hard way it is, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You steeled yourself for a third wave of electrocution, but nothing could mitigate the calamity brought on by the hot coils that cascaded down your spine and traveled outward to your limbs and digits. It lasted for several seconds, minutes, hours. An eternity. 

To what limits did Rorke intend to push your mind and body? A muddled sanity and crippled form would be of no use to him, surely. So what did he hope to gain?

Probably nothing special. Some people just want to watch the world burn, Keegan had told you at the beginning of your acquaintance, not long after explosives had free-fallen from the sky.

And Rorke fell squarely into that category.

“How d’you think this ends? In walks a Ghost or two, and then off into the sunset you go, happily ever after?” He sneered. “Like hell.”

The wave of his hand brought on another current of heat lightning, setting your skin aflame. You clenched every possible muscle in your jaw as he ducked down to meet your unfocused stare. Upon making contact, your fatigued eyes fluttered shut to replace the image of him with total darkness. 

A fruitless endeavor, really. The hatred carried by his gaze and the imposing outline of his figure were both irreparably ingrained into the very grooves and folds of your brain. 

But despite how he haunted your sleep and consumed much of your waking thoughts, Rorke had miraculously failed to eradicate your willpower in its entirety. Still, he had failed to isolate and exploit your Achilles’ heel; still, he was ignorant to the fact that the root of your motivations surpassed standard camaraderie. It would thus take more effort on his part than electric torture to excavate said root.

You were not yet at your breaking point. And you refused to allow today to be the day you finally cracked underneath his reign of terror. 

For a moment, the pit was silent. Then came the dreadful murmur of his long-awaited epiphany. 

“Ah, I see what this is,” Rorke said, tone giddy and ominous. “Tell me, who’s the lucky guy? Which one’s got you actin’ all stupid?” 

Your heart stopped. 

Fuck.  

“Can’t be the quiet Walker, he doesn’t seem the romantic type. And it can’t be his mouthy brother either, too busy tryin’ to avenge the death of his old man. Merrick, well, the fella don’t really swing that way, if y’catch my drift. So, by my count, that just leaves. . .”

Heedless of your wishes, your lidded stare flicked to Keegan’s impassive face. Rorke hadn’t the faintest clue about the subject of your hallucinations or even about the fact that you were currently hallucinating. Nevertheless, the break in eye contact was sufficient evidence to betray you.   

His gaze narrowed. “Bingo.”

You forced yourself to refocus on the non-imaginary man across from you, but the damage had been done.  

“Keegan P. Russ, you sly sonuva bitch,” he muttered. Rorke pursed his lips and whistled in approval. “How’d he win you over? Did he call you pretty, say you’re special? Was he your knight in shining armor?”

In truth, Keegan hadn’t even needed to lift a finger to successfully woo you. Caring for him was as easy as breathing, and it had come so naturally to you that, without him, you felt a bit like a fish out of water. You couldn’t attribute this evolution of your relationship to a singular, specific instance; rather, an aggregation of stolen moments and intimate gestures had resulted in a mutual desire for more. But, to prevent whatever was mounting between yourselves from jeopardizing the team dynamic, the two of you had agreed to take things slow. 

Maybe too slow, in retrospect. This hush-hush, test-run of a relationship had lasted a mere couple months, terminated prematurely by the man who was currently trying to fry your brain. Now your time was up, and much of Keegan would remain a mystery to you, forever undiscovered and unsolved. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret any of it. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to regret him. 

“Oh, this just keeps gettin’ better and better. I’m gonna have a whole lot of fun with you,” Rorke drawled, cracking his knuckles. A wave of apprehension washed over you, and he grinned at the horror that was surely etched into your face. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill our dear ol’ Russ.” 

Relief surged within you, rejuvenating some of our deadened spirit, but the feeling didn’t last long. Nothing remotely good ever did down here. 

“You will.”

Two little words, two little syllables shattered the illusion of Keegan, and with him went any remaining actionable hope. Try as you might, you were unable to reconjure his presence, incapable of reconstructing the facial features you had once loved to trace as he slept. Already, the pain had begun to distort his image in your mind’s eye, like how a digital photo album might be corrupted by malware. 

Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps you should compartmentalize your memories of him, of the Ghosts, and of the resistance into tiny boxes, sealing them shut then storing them far, far away. Not just out of Rorke’s reach, but out of yours too.  

Because, ultimately, time was on the side of your enemies. Your body would erode first, followed by your sanity and ending with your soul; such was inevitable. Recognizing you were powerless to circumvent this fate, you instead sought to curate the information that would be revealed to Rorke once he finally penetrated your mental bastion. If you purged anything to do with the Ghosts from your memory bank, then the knowledge you possessed couldn’t be weaponized against them. 

The only way you could counteract Rorke’s plans was by forgetting the life you’d built alongside Keegan and the others. Even as you now sat tied up and riddled with convulsions, you were thinking about the four soldiers who had become your home, about how to protect them. Any strategizing you did was to discern a method of silent survival for their sake, not yours. Never yours.

You tried to stave off the bitterness that crept deeper into your heart. 

“Conserve your energy. You’ll be needin’ it for what I’ve got planned,” the older man advised, though his sinister chuckle contradicted any notion of good faith. The metal legs of his chair scraped against the ground as he pushed himself backwards and stood to his full height. “And it should go without saying—”

Rorke let the sentence break off and linger in the tense atmosphere. During these sessions, you’d learned that the older man had somewhat of a proclivity for theatrics. The ex-Ghost derived sick pleasure from randomly dropping bombs of intel on you to instigate a reaction, or from watching you struggle to persist in spite of the various mental and physical agonies he had inflicted. 

A true sadist.

“None of those sorry bastards are gonna barge in and save the day, so give that dream up already. You won’t be found. I mean, how’re they s'posed to find what they ain’t even lookin’ for?”

The sound of retreating footsteps meant Rorke had finally taken his leave, marking the conclusion of this interrogation. But, as the two remaining Feds prepared to conduct another bolt of electricity through your depreciating body, you knew that the prescribed torture had only just begun. 

You hung your head and stared unblinkingly at your bound wrists, at your traumatized fingers, still twitching from the aftershocks. Tremors born of fear, pain, rage. Rage at Rorke, at yourself. 

At Keegan. 

In a kinder world, perhaps Keegan would’ve been around to hold your hands in his, to soothe your scorched flesh with a gentle, mindless rub of his thumb. A fierce longing for him gripped your heart, yearning for that Keegan who could glean your emotional state at any given moment as informed by the mere hitch in your breath or the rhythm of your pulse. 

That Keegan, who let you crawl into his arms and steal his warmth on harsh winter nights, no questions asked. That Keegan, who caught the glazed-over look in your eyes whenever certain topics arose in conversation and thus tried to distract you by playing a game of I Spy, your favorite childhood pastime. That Keegan, who had once nearly broken a man’s wrist for daring to grab the collar of your shirt; he’d been the perfect picture of Death-incarnate, a fierce protector with his stone-cold warning and intimidating stare.

This Keegan, however, was all too different.

Because this Keegan did not come to your rescue. No, instead, he had left you here to die.

tbc.

#keegan p russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #cod ghosts #cod x reader #cod keegan #call of duty #whumptober #fic: unearth without a name #my fic

[thee-rat-king]

IDK if I was the only one that noticed, but Tom and Greg’s ✨dynamic✨was barely present in this weeks episode, at least in its usual form. It was obvious in episode one that there’s been a shift between them. A level of stability that didn’t exist in earlier seasons - but in episode two I can’t remember a single moment that read as Tom belittling or dismissing Greg, or treating him as his pseudo-property. And Greg’s obviously much more comfortable and confident around Tom now, but seeing that in an office environment really drove it home.

It’s not just that Greg is becoming Tom, as I’ve seen some people say, or losing that final part of his humanity (that I maintain he never really had) - it’s that Greg doesn’t perceive Tom as a threat anymore. Wether that’s in relation to physical violence, or psychological warfare, or even just general workplace harassment of a superior to an employee, Greg is season 4 is acting as though he is comfortable with the knowledge that he is Safe in Tom’s presence. Something that has never really happened before over the course of a whole episode. And Tom is reinforcing this.

Of course the majority of their shift is dynamic can be attributed to the fact that they are the last of the “working family” (Conner doesn’t count, Roman is up in the air) in the Waystar inner circle. There is not immediate threat of prison or public humiliation, and a financially advantageous deal is near enough to done and dusted. External pressures were at least partially to blame for a lot of their conflict in earlier seasons, although that for sure wasn’t helped by Tom being weird and wrong in Mind Body & Soul, and Greg being the an actual cartoon character come to life. They certainly had their moments of synergy before (“we hear for you”) but never to the extent that they could go a full episode without at least some minor ribbing/workplace harassment/whatever satanic midwestern/Canadian courting ritual they’re doing this time.

There is still absolutely a power dynamic - Tom is older, and Greg’s boss. I couldn’t guess what Greg’s official job title is - in earlier seasons I wouldn’t have been surprised if his pay slips just said “nepotism cousin” on them. But he is functionally in his “attack dog” (no matter how terrible he is at it) era.

But by now they’re the closest they’re ever been the on an equal level, in the family, at work, and it seems in each others estimation. I have no idea if they’re going to kiss each other passionately on the mouth, but either way, they’ve started on mutual respect, and that’s always a good beginning (middle?) to a relationship.

#tomgreg #succession #greg hirsch #tom wambsgans #cousin greg #succession s4 #succ spoilers #thoughts on television #unoriginal thoughts

[iifishizzleii]

sibling johnny mactavish includes

unedited😛

having eight sisters.

this man has ‘younger brother’ energy written all over him. he’s the middle child, but by the time his parents got to having johnny, they were already at the ‘eh, i don’t care what you do just don’t die’ phase parents get at with their kids. which meant that it was up to his four older sisters to raise the boy right.

johnny knows how to read women. and while it’s partly because his sisters taught him well, it’s also because living in a house full of that many women meant learning their language or fucking perishing. this man is fluent in eyelingual. he knows every eyebrow raise, side-eye, narrowed gaze to a pointed look. who needs morse code in the military when you got eyelingual?

being a big character

because when you learn the language, of course you’re going to want to learn the culture as well. and johnny mactavish has been submerged in women culture all his life. which means three things:

one, he knows how to play the long game. whether it comes with petty revenge or simply asking for something from a higher power (his oldest sister), johnny is the king of waiting it out, finding the sweet spot of those moments and taking it. it’s the reason why only he, out of the entire task force, can get away with so much shit when it comes to laswell.

two, johnny knows how to be mean without being rude. thanks to the second and third mactavish daughters, his sisters (bless their heart), johnny knows how to kiss a person’s cheek while stabbing them with verbal cues. his sisters would do it all the time to each other and to guests that came over that they didn’t like. and it paid off being the brunt of so many passive aggressive comments because johnny’s work sometimes requires being civil, but that doesn’t mean he has to be a gentleman.

and three, johnny knows how to play dumb. really. it’s almost scary how quick this guy can go from playing with sticks and making dumb jokes about mud, to building a bomb made of sticks and mud. and it was his younger siblings, surprisingly, who taught johnny that being as pretty of a family that they were (because let’s be fr, soap is gorgeous), nobody expects them to know how to think. it makes getting out of certain situations and receiving special treatment so much more easier, too, when all you gotta do is give a charming smile and bat your eyelashes (ghost has been at the receiving end and has fallen for this act far too many times to let anyone else know).

having really thick skin

a lot of people think having an older brother is tough. and hey, it is! ghost would argue its a lot meaner than having a sister, because sisters are naturally more nurturing, nicer, and kinder than brothers are.

and for the most part, that was true. all of johhny’s sisters are good people. they’re kind, yes, and helpful and overall worthy of their spots through the pearly gates. but they’re not fucking nice. the fuck.

the amount of times johnny was dragged out of bed to take out the trash at the crack ass of dawn is ridiculous. he should have brain damage now from how many times his head hit the floor. but, he was the only boy, so all the ‘manly’ jobs like mowing the lawn, washing the cars, bringing in the groceries, all of those were johnny’s chores. (but, even then, most people would pass their home and see several girls—blondes, brunettes, and gingers— washing the porch, the family truck, and tending to the yard. johnny was j

and that’s not even to mention the psychological warfare. mactavish’s are infamous for their temper, so when you’re living with eight other land mines dressed in heels and lashes just waiting to be stepped on, everyday was a different fight blowing up in the house. and when you got insulted by your sister, johnny learned that the only way to deflect is by hitting them with something meaner a lot more quickly or you’d cry.

like that time johnny blamed the wet floor in their bathroom on all of the leg hair his younger sister kept shaving and getting stuck in the drain so the water flowed out the tub and soaked the tiles. and she automatically replied with, “or maybe it’s all the grease from the back of your fat fucking neck dragging on the ground that’s making the tiles wet”. (it was their other sister’s fault it turned out.)

loving the hard times

because as much as johnny could give his family shit for all of the bad days, none of them could compare to the good ones.

the mornings where he woke up to the smell of sourdough pancakes and sizzling bacon.

when his sister would pull him out of school early to go shopping at the mall, and she’d buy him a new toy or cool shirt.

when he did one of them a favor and later that week she’d taken johnny to get some greasy fast food with her to eat at a park because she wasn’t trying to buy food for the whole house.

when his younger sisters spent their first daddy-daughter dance standing on his church shoes and holding his hands because their real father wasn’t around anymore.

when they spend the rest of the day outside spraying each other with the water hose after washing the cars because the house was too hot, and sandwiches with premade lemonade under the tree was lunch.

when the winter winds were so strong they broke the heater, and the family spent a week having a slumber party in the living room to keep warm.

when they all got matching tattoos on the ankle, a roman numeral for each sibling.

when johnny went off to join the army, leaving his sisters for the first time, they all went to the airport to see him off.

#call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #call of duty mw3 #mactavish family #sergeant johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish has siblings #specifically sisters

[arc-misadventures]

Can we get more of "her most holy saint" and whats the faculties thoughts on jaune also this AU is hilarious

Status Update

At the top of Beacon Tower in Ozpin’s office.

Cinder: Hello, Headmaster Ozpin, Deputy-Headmistress Goodwitch, General Ironwood… Qrow.

Qrow: Why do I always get the cold shoulder?

Cinder: I could set it on fire if it would make you feel better?

Glynda: Not now, Miss Fall. Perhaps later though.

Qrow: Later?!

Cinder: Very well.

Ozpin: Pleasantries aside, how goes your progress with the, Saint; Have you made any headways?

Cinder: Not as many as we would like, Headmaster.

Ironwood: Explain?

Cinder: As per the mission statement: My team are trying to show the, Saint a more realistic view of the world so she made more accurately help the people of the world, rather then in her current state of a blind optimist. Myself, and my fellow teammate, Emerald Sustari have infiltrated the Saints clique in an attempt to spy on her, and her followers from within. Neo Politian, our third teammate, is currently spying on the various members of her clique, and eves-dropping on other random students to gain their opinions on the matter of the, Saint.

Ironwood: Are you gaining any information that way?

Cinder: Mostly the hidden thoughts, and opinions the various students have about my Team Leader, Jaune Arc’s actions taken towards the, Saint. They are less likely to say them to me, and Emerald because we are, Jaune’s teammates.

Glynda: Have you made any headway with, Arc’s rather… striking verbal remarks.

Cinder: It’s hard to say: From what I’ve seen, Jaune’s remarks have impacted her somewhat, but her clique is always around her, showering her with praise, and reassurances the moment he says them. They have become our most strenuous obstacle to overcome thus far.

Ironwood: Makes sense, it easier to make anyone feel terrible, or worthless when they are alone, then they are surrounded by friends, and family.

Qrow: Words of experience there, Jimbo?

Ironwood: Basic, Psychological Warfare tactics, Qrow. Nothing more.

Glynda: How is, Mr. Arc holding up; I assume for someone such as himself, acting like such a villain is hard on him.

Cinder: It has been hard on him… Jaune’s a sweet boy… Jaune, just like everyone has a dark side to him, but for him to hate someone, to truly hate someone he needs a reason, a personal guttural reason to hate someone. Hating someone because he has to is the complete opposite to his personality. He’s trying his best, but it is getting to him.

Ozpin: So we are nowhere closer to our goal than before… We’re running low, on time here.

Glynda: We need to isolate, Ms. Nikos so, Mr. Arc gains more opportunities to antagonize her, and to curb away her support group.

Ironwood: That sounds easy enough, but it will be hard to accomplish.

Qrow: Just change their schedules so they can’t stay as close to one another as they would like to.

Glynda. Impossible, they are all first years, their schedules are all the same, any alterations we make to them will have little to no effect upon them.

Ozpin: Hmm… Is there anything else you would like to report, Ms. Fall? If so, you may leave.

Cinder: Actually, Headmaster there is one thing I would like to tell you about, Jaune, and the Saint’s most recent interaction.

Ironwood: Why didn’t you mention this before?

Cinder: I am… unsure what do do with this latest revelation, Sir.

Ozpin: Did something happen?

Cinder: The Saint cornered, Jaune, alone because she wished to speak with him, without the presence of her clique.

Qrow: Didn’t want her little following to interrupt her?

Cinder: Correct. She wanted to have some words alone with, Jaune without their constant interruptions. Jaune thought he could capitalize on this opportunity to be particularly cruel to the, Saint to which he did.

Glynda: What did he say?

Cinder: The, Saint wanted to know why, Jajne hated her as much as he did, Jaune simply replied he hated her because he hated her.

Ozpin: A simple enough reason.

Ironwood: Considering its Mr. Arc, that was the best answer he could possibly give her. He would never tell her he hated her because he had to hate her.

Cinder: Precisely, so with this, she started to press him harder, and harder until, Jaune snapped and… slapped her…

Ozpin: H-He what?

Cinder: Jaune slapped the, Saint…

Qrow: (Whistles~!) That’s pretty ballsy of him.

Glynda: How badly was she slapped?

Cinder: No visible mark was left behind, Ma’am.

Ironwood: But, what was the mark he left behind?

Cinder: W-Well… That’s where things get… complicated…

Ozpin: Complicated how? She didn’t call for her followers to take up vengeance did she?

Ironwood: Would that even happen? Nikos isn’t the type who would do such things to another.

Cinder: I would have certainly preferred that…

Ozpin: And, why is that, Ms. Fall?

Cinder: The, Saint… Ms. Nikos asked, Jaune to… To slap her again…

Ozpin: …

Ozpin: Excuse me?

Cinder: Ms. Nikos wanted, Jaune to slap her again…

Ironwood: She wanted him to what…?

Cinder: H-Harder this time though…

Glynda: Don’t tell me…

Cinder: We believe, Ms. Nikos to be a masochist…

OGJQ: …

Qrow: DAMN!!! Ahahaha! Little miss perfect and so saintly now is she?!

Glynda: Considering her background it makes sense, but… seriously?!

Cinder: Jaune was very descriptive in how depraved, Ms. Nikos face was when she was begging him to, and I quote… oh gods… I quote: “Make me your bitch, Master…”

OGJQ: …

Glynda: And… And, where is, Mr. Arc, right now, Ms. Fall?

Cinder: Jaune is currently hiding away in our dorm room, under a pile of blankets scared for his life as the rest of my team is trying to consul him, to help him get through… this…?!

Ozpin: I see… Uhh… Qrow…?

Qrow: Yeah, Ozzy?

Ozpin holds his mug out to him.

Ozpin: Top me off will you?

#rwby #jaune arc #cinder fall #rwby neo #emerald sustrai #pyrrha nikos #james ironwood #qrow branwen #glynda goodwitch #rwby ozpin

[nananarc]

Let's talk about that one token Vietnamese mission in Cyberpunk 2077. It's cultural appropriation.

How do you know this is cultural appropriation? Pretend the character is American. If the story still works in exactly the same way, then it's cultural appropriation: our culture never even mattered.

Culture is meant to be shared, but appropriating our culture without a sliver of understanding on what, and who we are, is just unethical. Lemme explain and it's gonna be a long post.

Mission Summary

So basically it's a cyberpsycho mission about 2 sisters who are reality show celebrities like the Kardashians and one of them turn cyberpsycho after a really horrible "prank" gone sour. One sister drugged the other, put her in a coma, besmirched her looks by giving her clownish implants, and steal her fiance after she was humiliated by that sister in the past due to a similar equally mean-spirited prank. The cyberpsycho found out and killed her sister, her husband, and a lot of people, including the crew, at their wedding. Everything is scripted except for the real deaths. The physical and mental damage done to them was also real.

Sounds kinda ok, typical American reality show and exploitation in the show business. All are good until you realize the sisters are Vietnamese.

Problem Checklist

Reality TV shows aren't that popular in Vietnam. We do have a few shows here and there, and all of them are concepts bought from America, for example, Next Top Model, Masked Singer, and The Voice. And you can see from those 3 most popular shows that they are talent shows, not family feud shows. Vietnamese people don't watch family feud reality shows, and tho we might know of the Kardashians for their scandals and makeup, we don't watch them. Generally, we don't really have that reality show culture here. This is a very American thing. Additionally, such anti-family values, hyper-individualism, and anti-tradition sentiments as of the Kardashians usually will get censored and denied by the government.

The whole story doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard in Vietnamese media or real-life stories. We have our fair share of family feuds and love drama tropes, but this is not it. We are a communal society as opposed to individualism. This means we tend to avoid direct conflicts and over-the-top gestures. Couple that with a high-context communication style, conflicts and solutions often come in the form of scheming, indirect influence, psychological warfare, long term, and done in a group. Not to say the thing in the mission never happened ever, but it's not typical of Vietnamese culture.

Sure, the characters are Vietnamese diaspora in the US so they are influenced by US culture. Even so, this is not a relatable story for the Vietnamese diaspora, there are a lot more relatable and impactful stories than this for the Vietnamese diaspora. More on that later.

"It's not typical Vietnamese means it subverts stereotypes and it's creative. This is a different view that you just don't understand because not all Vietnamese are the same!" It subverts so hard it's unrecognizable by a Vietnamese. Sure people's experiences are diverse and the Vietnamese people are diverse and there are a lot of interesting new ways to write our experiences. But this story is nothing really new, creative, or interesting? Sisters backstabbing each other and fighting over a man on a reality show for clouts and it backfires is just an American drama trope. You can see this trope on Mean Girls, the only 2 Vietnamese girls there is exactly like this, and the actresses doesn't even speak Vietnamese. Why not just write them as Americans? Because the fact that they are Vietnamese contributes nothing to the story. If anything, it feels degrading because Vietnamese people are turned into exploited laughing stock for the Americans.

Furthermore, it IS stereotypical. The name of the reality show is Saigon Sisters. It evokes the image of Saigon queens or Saigon call girls, ie. exploited sex workers in South Vietnam during the American Resistance War (aka Vietnam War as the American calls it) who serve the colonizers and the puppet government officials. Believe it or not, Vietnam is not that war-torn, colonized, underdeveloped, and humiliated state. We are a culturally rich country with thousands of years of history bravely fighting off all the superpowers in the world. We have skyscrapers, we have highways, and our cuisine is arguably one of the most diverse and delicious cuisines in the wort. So it's interesting the devs decided to go with a stereotypical name that carries a sense of misogyny and colonialism with it. I doubt this is a conscious choice to portray colonialism, considering all of my other points proving that they don't even know who we are.

They got the name wrong. There is no excuse for this. The sisters' names are Dao Hyunh and Linh Hyunh. The first names are correct, Đào (anglicized as Dao) is not a common name but it exists; Linh is a very common name. The last name Hyunh is wrong, Huỳnh (anglicized as Huynh) is the correct one.

In conclusion, if replacing the character's ethnicity with American does not affect the story in any way, this representation is incredibly bad. I really prefer they have not mention us in the first place.

What It Should Have Been?

First let's talk about the common themes in the stories of Vietnamese culture. I take inspiration from the presentation by a wonderful artist Stephani Soejono (ig @stephanisoejono) and others in Xiran Jay Zhao's compilation video essays of analysis did by South East Asian people on the movie Raya & The Last Dragon.

Strong communal aspect: clash of expectations from community to individual's dreams and passion, conflict avoidance, friendships and family relations.

Living close with nature and the philosophy of go with the flow: Unexpected things happen but adapt to the environment and situation, embracing the negative because its yin and yang to make balance.

Supernatural and Spirituality: Fated meetings, coincidences, the unchanging wheels of fates, spirits and demons, shamans and witches (who are not feared but respected), deities and saints. One of the most interesting worldbuilding aspects of Cyberpunk 2077 is the blurred line between Spirituality and Technology, so there could have been so much to explore here.

Based on the above mentioned, I can easily come up with many interesting, relatable and impactful stories

A person who acted disrespectful towards a family, religious beliefs or a Vietnamese shrine and got hexed to turn into a cyberpsycho. (You will hear stories of this everywhere in Vietnam)

Vietnamese Shaman got possessed by daemon from beyond the Wall.

Vietnamese immigrant struggling to adapt and survive in America and couldn't take the pressure anymore. (Just ask any immigrants)

Overachiever kid who are pressured by their parents to be perfect student and perfect citizen, they use implants to be more perfect and finally snaps under the pressure and become cyberpsycho (I can assure you, this actually happens a lot irl, source: I am one; also search for the case of Jennifer's Solution)

and so much more!

Conclusion

I know this is mission is quite passable and small compare to the grand scheme of things, but it can't help but pisses me off. Asian representation is already a rare thing and rarely done well in western sphere, let alone South East Asian, let alone Vietnamese representation. I'm not even gonna repeat the affect of misrepresentation and under-representation in the power dynamic between western superpowers and a small country like mine. I am not unfamiliar with how most countries especially in Europe and American sees us, they still think we are this fragile, poor, rural, colonized and war-torn country like 50 years ago. This is reflected in how we are portray in the few and far between instances in western media especially Hollywood. For a studio based in Poland, a country with a relative good relation with Vietnam and a large community of Vietnamese diaspora, this is a piss poor portrayal of our people.

The Vietnamese market is probably too small for you to even care, and it's true that most Vietnamese player doesn't even give a shit. But it does not mean no Vietnamese care, at least I know I do. And this is not a new phenomenon, this has been happening for forever in western media, and someone's gotta tell people about it.

Let's end this extremely long and angry post with some beautiful images of my country. On tumblr, you can find a lot more of beautiful images like these curated by the blog @lotusinjadewell. And I'll be creating a personal blog to post my photos I took of my home country soon so there!

If you wanna support Vietnam, please consider give a shout out and/or donate to these organizations:

ISEE: Minorities and LGTQ+

CSDS: Youth Empowerment and Sustainability

ICS: LGBTQ+

SOS Children's Villages Vietnam: Orphange, Underprivileged Children

CHANGE: Environment and Sustainablity

GreenID: Environment and Sustainablity

Hà Nội – Một thành phố trong nhiếp ảnh Exhibition in Hà Nội

Photographer: Alexandre Garel, Khổng Việt Bách, Diego Cortizas, Lolo Zazar, Peter Steinhauer, Sébastien Laval, Veronika Radulovic, Ben Reich, Bert Danckaert, Nguyễn Hữu Bảo, Nguyễn Thế Sơn, Lê Thịnh, Lê Xuân Phong, Nguyễn Duy Kiên, Maika Elan, Phạm Tuấn Ngọc

Curator: Nguyễn Thế Sơn

Lotte Tower in Hanoi | Skyscrapers in Hanoi

Photographer Unknown

Ta Caphe Shop in Hà Nội

Photo by WhereInHanoi

Mid Autumn festival themed photoshoot

Photographer: Lê Giangg.

H'Mông Fabric Seller

Photographer: Michel Arnault

High Fashion designs inspired by Mông people's traditional clothes

Left: Dạ Minh Nguyệt | Right: Nguyễn Đặng Khánh Linh

Modern side of Saigon

Photographer unknown

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 meta #vietnam #vietnamese #vietnamese culture

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Reaper Headcanons: Mental Warfare

#Headcanons #Yandere #Overwatch #Reaper #GabrielReyes #YandereReaper #YandereGabrielReyes #YandereOverwatch 

[Hello My Sexy Muffins, I am here with a new chapter and in this chapter, it is base headcanons for reaper so I can prep for his request. Please enjoy this chapter, and thank you for your patience.]

Side note this is reaper not when he was Gabriel Reyes. If you want base headcanons of Gabriel Reyes as a yandere before he became reaper comment.]

-Base Yandere Headcanons with Reaper.

.Reaper is a lost man.

.He lost himself and now is a new version of himself.

.He lost most of his compassion and softness when he became Reaper.

.With you he falls for you hard knowing you are the love of his life.

.He will very much stalk you for months, even years. Watching and waiting.

.If you have a family he will make ways for your partner and possible children to be eliminated without you connecting it to him.

.He is going to be your partner and the love of your life.

.You will be the parent to HIS Children.

.He still has the same big family values he had, had in his human life.

.In which he wanted a family a large one at that.

.He will make a family with you may you are able to carry kids or not.

.He is not the softest yandere.

.Would physically restrain you, drag you along and pin you down.

.He is not a nonsense-taking type of yandere.

.He is no-nonsense do as he says cause you are his and he knows what is best for you.

.You clearly do not know what is best for you, at least in his eyes.

.His confession happens after kidnapping you.

.He is not going to let you get away from him so it is safe to tell you how he feels

.He would physically restrain you and carry you off home.

.He will punish you most likely with spankings and overstimulation if he deems that it is needed.

.Breaking you down psychologically to build you up is one of his main tactics against you.

.He will not lash out at you in anger by hitting you but will grab you by the throat and squeeze a bit.

.He deals with rivals easily, by killing them.

.He knows when he needs to get rid of them and how to do it.

.He can get away with it very easily.  

.He is a bit romantic and will do his best to romance you and keep you by his side.

.It is the small things in which he takes care of you, the sweet words, snuggles, or him making your favorite meal.

.These things are small but slowly they break you down that he does care.

.He breaks you down until you accept his love. He had done full-on mental warfare.

.And he did win.

."I know this is not ideal, but I do love you and I promise you, you will be so happy with me. I will make it so."

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done, I hope you all enjoyed it and stay sexy!]

#yandere #yandere Overwatch #yandere gabriel reyes #yandere headcanons #headcanons #base headcanons #overwatch #overwatch gabriel reyes #overwatch reaper #reaper #yandere reaper #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes #reader #gender neautral reader

[mooflettes]

Tbh, I think that Pecharunt used to be mischievous but never causing any real trouble. But after being banished, he became a lot more malicious and revenge driven. I’d say he needed the masks so that he can absorb them and be able to see where Terapogas is. Despite all this, he keeps his mischievous side as a facade, as a coping mechanism to forget about the physical and mental pain he has to constantly endure. Almost like a mask if you think about it.

I’d say that Pecharunt renamed itself to ‘Dokutaro’ or ‘Dokuwāro’ to sound more menacing.

Now, I really hope Pecharunt becomes the main antagonist on its own in this fic since most antagonists tend to be evil teams who sometimes controlled legendary Pokémon, in my opinion, it’s gotten a bit stale. So it’ll be interesting to see a Pokémon acting as an antagonist on its own and acting malicious (Pecharunt actually wants to KILL Millie).

So whatever Project Venus is, I can see Pecharunt sabotaging it and using it to its own benefits.

Now, for some headcanon powers, I think that he can release souls that he absorbed to have some kind of hive-mind. To make up his lack of combat skills, he’s a master at manipulating others and a master at psychological warfare. As he was able to manipulate Kieran to do what it wants but leave Kieran in the dust.

He would also kill his victims by manipulating them to kill themselves, since to him, it’s easier to absorb souls this way.

And, by psychological warfare, he does that again and again even at the end of the fic as before he unfused and everyone was celebrating, he used the last of his power to blast at Carmine as he knew that Kieran would save her. And that does happen. Carmine would be overwhelmed with guilt from that incident onwards. Since Kieran is now trapped in the timeline where the future paradox Pokémon live. Which is why I said this ending has a hollow victory, the protagonists won, but at what cost?

Kieran would break out of Pecharunt’s control later on by the protags, only to suffer later on again.

Since if I were to put in Pecharunt’s words when asked by the protagonists:

“The world has betrayed me, so why should I play fair?!”

(He can speak but choosing to Poké speak instead)

SORRY FOR RAMBLING ON AGAIN. I have some ideas but I think I gone a bit overboard. But again, you choose to use any of these ideas if you want!

WTF THIS ANSWER GOES HARD!!! I DONT THINK YOU REALIZE IT BUT YOURE A BIT ON THE NOSE WITH WHAT I BELIEVE ABOUT PECHARUNT WOULD IN PROJECT VENUS! Ofc, I wanna keep the twists and turns surprises, so I can't rlly go in-depth with how right you might be or WHO "Project Venus" is.

But I do believe that Pecharunt could absorb souls and release them, or like the toxic chain, chain those souls to itself (Think of how Shinigami gets Yuma to follow her around in Rain Code)

But it is also parasitic, in which it infects itself onto a main host and then that host has most of its power, which it can inflict onto others via zombification, resurrection, etc!

I cant say who or what gets possessed in Project Venus other than the obvious, but I'll say that the idea will actualky be used in canon, soon.

About Carmine...she is HEAVILY GUILTY for how she treated her brother, and in the fic I plan for Carmine and other characters to have tender moments, as pokémon doesn't fully get to delve into the nitty-gritty of family issues like I want them to (ie. Grief, jealousy, tension, etc.) And we already see such an example with Millie and her mother

I wanna cover as many bases as I can without making Millie seem like a "woe is meee" type character. While she is our protag and she has her moments I want to allow her, and many others, to at least gave clarity

ALSO PLEASE DON'T APOLOGIZE! YOUR RAMBLES ARE MUCH APPRECIATED AND IT'S MOTIVATING ME TO WRITE AGAIN! I SHOULD REALLY GET TO WORK ON THE NEXT CHAPTER SOON TBH LOL BUT UT DOES MEAN BUNCHES YOU SHOW GREAT INTEREST!!!

#project venus mystery of the indigo disk #pokémon #pokemon oc #pokemon #pokemon fic #pokemon fanfiction #dokutaro #pecharunt #pokemon au #rambles #pokemon the indigo disk #pokemon theory #pokemon sv #pokemon indigo disk #indigo disk #i love these ideas #you gave me an idea on how i could justify keeping pecharunts name dokutaro #you are a smart cookie KEEP RAMBLING #project venus #project venus number one fan right there

[saintmeghanmarkle]

How Prince William is winning the psychology battle against Prince Harry by u/Mickleborough

How Prince William is winning the psychology battle against Prince Harry TalkTV on YouTube has an interesting analysis of the relations between Harry and Prince William.According to published clinical psychiatrist Dr Raj Persaud (he’d admitted to plagiarisation, but that doesn’t invalidate his analysis), since the publication of Sparse, Harry’s been in some sort of psychological warfare with Prince William. Dr Persaud puts it down to sibling rivalry (which can produce ‘venomous’ animosities) - and thinks William’s winning.Harry and William use different weapons. Harry uses PR to ‘whine’ about his treatment? [‘You are not trying. You are whining.’ Quote from a film which seems apposite here.] The danger is that people can become tired of all this complaining (amen).On the other hand, William’s ‘been deploying a very interesting series of psychological tactics‘: He’s ignored Harry, ‘a very powerful move’; appeared aloof; gone on with his job; and retained his dignity. Advantage: William.The younger sibling is jealous of the elder’s status. (This assumes we’re going with sibling rivalry as a theory.) Harry deals with this by trying to obtain media exposure - the increased column inches make him appear as important as his brother. But is it working? No - Harry did get a lot of attention previously, but this appears to be fading whilst William’s still in the headlines. Advantage: William.Is it really the brothers at war, or is it actually driven by their wives? Dr Persaud offers the view that wars are driven by generals - in this case, the wives. The winning side clearly has the better general - in this case, Kate. And losing generals tend to get annoyed with their soldiers - is that right, Harry? This could lead to a divorce… [Don’t worry, Harry, Meghan won’t leave you unless she finds someone richer - which she won’t.] Advantage: William.Rebel without a cause? Psychologically, younger scions rebel whilst the elder tends to be more conservative - and Harry didn’t fully comformed to royal expectations, even before the advent of Meghan. After Megxit, Harry backed a different horse ’in terms of how to make his way in the world’ whilst William stuck with the Royal Family. The RF’s ’trundled on’ and produced PR opportunities favourable to William, whilst Spotify and Netflix contracts don’t compare with being a paid-up member of the RF: Advantage: William.Never complain, never explain. Dr Persaud refers to a ‘culture war’ between the stoical, stiff upper lip behaviour of the RF and Harry’s approach: the therapy (aka ‘psychobabble’) route. Harry ’said you must always talk about your emotions, you must always express them’ and has engaged with therapists resulting in ‘emotional incontinence’ [great expression]. Harry‘s approach should be winning because it’s more young, modern, of the moment. Yet ‘never complain, never explain’ seems to be winning, mainly because of William’s calm demeanour. Advantage: William.Dr Persaud ends by wondering how long this war can go on, as relationships with siblings potentially are the longest, longer than with parents or spouses.On another note - the memories and experiences siblings share are unique to them. Once one dies, those memories can’t be revisited or relived. Hope Harry thinks this has all been worth it.How Prince William is winning the psychology battle against Prince Harry, TalkTV on YouTube. post link: https://ift.tt/DtCWjH8 author: Mickleborough submitted: November 04, 2023 at 11:19PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

#SaintMeghanMarkle #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #voetsek meghan #sussexes #markled #archewell #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duchess of sussex #duchess meghan #duke of sussex #harry and meghan smollett #walmart wallis #harkles #megain #spare by prince harry #fucking grifters #meghan and harry #Heart Of Invictus #Invictus Games #finding freedom #doria ragland #WAAAGH #Mickleborough

[cosmicplexus]

Hi cosmic. 😔

I have a very niche question, I have a family member who I have a lot of his planets fall in my 8th house (me Leo rising ) and mine his 12th house (he’s a cancer rising). I notice he constantly projects things onto me. Specifically that I’m judging him and that I’m always looking at him a particular way and that I envy him. He finally came clean that he feels this way. I’m honestly left so confused I don’t do these things. I’m very disheartened..I’ve dealt with these out of the box perceptions by him my entire life.

my question is there a pin point to this type of thing in 8th house/12 house synastry? I know astrologically it can never be just one thing but I find our stellium in these houses notable, and I know 8th house is known for obsession and 12th enemies but never in aspect to families explained etc. 🫶

Hello there🤍✨

Note to community: Pricing catalogue drops soon🤍✨ Responding to the last inbox requests. Thank you all so much for the 💕

Well...

~Trust is volatile with both 12th house and 8th synastry. This relationship has a theme of intense psychology warfare. There could be behaviours subconsciously exhibited from both sides.

The 12th house deals with the theme of projection as there are blurry lines as to what is and what isn't when dealing with Neptunian energy, but it's not all illusion as Neptunian is also energy sensitive so self-awareness needs to be practiced on both sides as some of the energy picked on could in fact be true, but exaggerated by illusive energy.

~Jealousy in 8th house synastry is not uncommon and how it manifests depends on the type of the relationship. In family bonds it could manifest as envy. The problem with plutonian and Neptunian energy alike is we're dealing with states of consciousness that are not easily available to everyday conscious so it might not even be a thing of you deliberately doing things against your cousin, but an unaddressed energy you carry unknowingly. Paranoia is also known to be the sour side to 8th house synastry.

The best resolution is for you to sit down and consider what your cousin said without being temperamental then address it with your cousin while also expressing your feelings. You may find out that there is validity in both your feelings as well as a mutual misunderstanding. If unaddressed it could lead to a cycle of gaslighting from both sides.

Wish you all the best with mending things🤍✨🌻

#8th house synastry #12th house synastry #astrology readings #astrology blog

[msfbgraves]

He already seeks Terry out in his sleep before and cuddles in when Terry protects him (or thinks that what he's doing).:::: wait i thought they slept in separate cabins the whole time/and hotel rooms?? or were they in the same rooms the whole time and terry let daniel come to him for a snuggle instead of going to him and scaring him off? y does daniel think terry is protecting him?

They slept in different cabins, but once they arrived in Sicily, Daniel had already said he would 'do his duty' to Terry as a mate; so they slept in the same bed but Terry didn't try anything else because he knew that Daniel didn't want to sleep with him. He would have if Terry insisted; all of which is simply awful, and, had Terry been the type to insist Daniel would 'do his marital duty' in a time like this, Daniel would have likely still had him killed because that's honestly vile. Still, Daniel didn't want to give Terry reason to say Daniel was being a bad omega. He did everything he did in good times too: he cooked, cleaned, helped Terry dress, let Terry help him dress, went places with him when Terry asked, but he didn't ask Terry anything, gave him no smiles or kindnesses, didn't seek him out, it was brutal psychological warfare. He really wanted Terry to decide to leave. That's what Amanda was referring to in their talk, and what Terry ultimately also told Daniel - you can treat me like dirt it won't make any difference, I'm yours.

And the reason why Terry still had hope was that when Daniel wasn't putting all that effort into freezing Terry out, he still gravitated towards him in his sleep. Terry would have waited years but that would have put an enormous strain on their marriage. What Daniel needed from both Michael and Terry was an apology without any demands from either of them. And that's what he got. Terry first said he'd stay with him however coldly Daniel would treat him, because he loved him, and then he apologised for the whole thing - the way he'd forced Daniel to marry him too. Daniel needed to hear that, he truly did.

With the protecting I'm referring to how Daniel was "attacked" by an Alpha from Apollonia's family. That wasn't ultimately a real attack, but they needed Terry's instincts to kick in, which happened alright. It happens with any mated Alpha, in all fairness, but Terry went batshit on him. Which was a great reflection on the family Alphas. And when he then pulled Daniel close to"protect" him it felt very good to Daniel, because as Daniel said to Amanda, he really missed cuddling Terry.

#silverusso #knights and pawns #omegaverse #mob au

[comradekatara]

which atla character would get along best with which amphibia character? (also hi im the mod for mailee week & cant wait to see what u post!)

ahh thank u for keeping up the tradition & spreading my gospel!! I hope my art doesn’t disappoint

anne would get along with pretty much everyone, but I think she’d especially like aang (because he reminds her of sprig), toph (because she reminds her of polly), and suki (because she is hot and cool and anne is very gay). i also think she’d have a crush on june the bounty hunter

aang and sprig would get along like fire and a thatched roof. they’d run around in the woods and make up silly little games. it would get kind of intense at some point during their contest to determine who can jump higher, but eventually they’d settle on a tie. just two kindhearted silly babie boys with boundless energy and irresistible charm <3333

polly meets toph and immediately they are both like “I have met my soulmate.” get louise bobsburgers in there too for maximum chaos wreaked by three tiny vessels

sokka and marcy would be obsessed with each other. the closest marcy ever got to finding someone who knew exactly how to communicate with her was andrias, and... well.... (okay arguably maddie too, but that’s mostly because marcy was just perfectly happy to let maddie boss her around) but sokka would be able to challenge her intellectually without condescending to her as if she is some innocent little baby. and marcy would make sokka feel appreciated in turn, and they’d just talk incessantly about all their overlapping interests that no one else understands. they’re just in their own little nerd bubble, having the time of their lives

I feel like katara would be the same way around mrs boonchuy that sprig was where she is so desperate to be adopted as her surrogate daughter that she constantly helps out at the restaurant and when mrs boonchuy insists on paying her for her labor katara is secretly disappointed because it means that mrs boonchuy doesn’t see her as family and whenever she’s like “I wish my daughter could be as hardworking and responsible as you” katara is awkwardly like “oh well.... I wish my mom could be as..... alive as you..... hahahahahahaha.......” and mrs b just falls silent. “is there anything you would like to talk about katara”

hop pop and zuko would not get along at first because zuko is wary of cranky old men and hop pop is wary of teenagers with attitudes but then they’d discover that they are both thespians at heart and bond over their love of The Theatre. hop pop is overjoyed that he has found someone who truly appreciates “The Shallow Pond.” even marcy didn’t like that, and she’s into seeds

suki immediately takes ivy under her wing like duh. she teaches her kyoshi form, and ivy teaches her how to hop on lilypads, which suki actually manages to do despite being a human and not a frog. they have a great time causing mischief together

iroh and felicia compare tea in what is ultimately an extremely long conversation. everyone else is forced to leave the room because watching them flirt makes anyone in the vicinity want to puke

mai and maddie bond over having annoying baby siblings and being mistaken for being cold and creepy despite actually being very kind and sweet just because they happen to be interested in the gothic and other cool things like that. mai shows maddie how to throw knives, and maddie shows mai how to enchant her knives so that they can be controlled telekinetically. they have fun

as for sasha, it’s hard to say whether she would get along better/worse with azula or ty lee, since she has things in common with both of them that would make their respective meetings really interesting. but I think sasha and ty lee would actually make for a richer dynamic, bc they could wage intense psychological warfare against each other and it would all be so subtle and underhanded no one else would even notice

I think I wanna see azula fight general yunan. I think that would be an insane and epic fight

this is not a fully formed thought but: appa is to momo what bessie is to microangelo is domino 2 to domino. That is all

#synthesis #frogshowposting #kermitthejew #asks #the gaang and #I have no clue how grime would fit in there bc he’s such an elusive character #I feel like all we know about him is that he used to be a gladiator #mai & maddie intj kweens #also sasha v ty lee war of the century #there can only be ONE head cheerleader / war criminal

[xwendigox]

So what was the purpose of Titan Program? Were the participants willing or was it a kidnapping situation?

👀 OH MI LORDY. Y’all too smart for your own good. Here’s the best response I can give at the moment without revealing too much.

To answer your first question, we first need a little historia lessona. Tehehe. The Titan Program is run by a military specialist group known as V.A.N.G.U.A.R.D. This group has cultivated the best of the best from all military fields, dedicated to training soldiers with expertise in every military field. It is not exactly clear when this group was founded, but it is suggested sometime in the early 1900’s by a group of radical idealists. VANGUARD isn’t apart of any formal military. They are their own private division. Quite literally private. They only started gaining attention and entering the world stage around the 1960’s from their efforts during the Cold War. The Titan Program has also been around for quite some time. The oldest documents on the program date back to as early as the mid 1920’s.

The Titan Program was founded to create the next generation of modernized warfare, to be on the cutting edge.

In the beginning, the subjects of the Titan Program were hand selected. A clean family health history, no ailments, no physical deformities, no psychological issues. They only wanted to accept perfectly healthy subjects. As time went on, and the success survival rate of the program was shown to be poor, they became more lenient in the selection process and accepted most subjects that came their way, and let the program take its natural course of shifting out the crème of the crop.

I refuse to say anymore as I know I’ll end up spilling the beans on this shit. 😤 Gotta remind myself; show don’t tell. But y’all too smart. How tf y’all picking up on this shit and I haven’t even released any information that would hint at such things. But I hope this helps give some more context and fuels the fire in those little genius brains!

#call of duty #cod mw #simon ghost riley #simon riley #wendigo #ghost #fandom #fanfic #handsome male #ghost x reader #wendigo answers #q&a session

[neomedievalist]

look i get that everyone whos finished umineko knows something about kyrie that i dont and i get it i do she is very smart and shes objectively the strongest option here tactically but i am STILL on team eva she is obviously the most dominant figure in terms of social hierarchy in the family and she knows it first of all if you choose kyrie you have to contend with the fact that eva and rosa are forming a united front because eva can manipulate her like rosa and natsuhi are both insecure and eva knows exactly how to get them in psychological warfare though you could make a similar point for kyrie eva has BEEN doing this like shes BEEN manipulating them ALREADY. secondly she has the initiative. kyrie would slay and be very calculating with tactics but eva would just start shooting without giving a fuck. its simply the fact of the other two and their insecurities being points that eva can work with whereas kyrie definitely can see it but its very easy for natsuhi and rosa to dismiss kyrie because shes at the lowest rank in the family and they both think they are above her. also doesnt eva know martial arts so if she gets disarmed she can still defend herself. point being. eva would win the intiial shouting match that turns into a fight which puts the rest of them on unease and it turns to a single shootout between kyrie and eva and kyrie is trying to analyze the situation and eva is not giving her time to do that. But i only just started episode 3. so.

#data #regarding the milf-off