#this is the result of me going through every single instance he's had an appearance ever

[heybythepixies]

My Personal Favorite Rocket-Centered Media

—

Rocket Raccoon (2014) — 11 Issues

The one that began the Rocket Renaissance. I don’t recommend reading this one first right off the bat, if only because I think it has a cooler effect if you read the comic after Rocket’s more somber stories, but it is totally a must-read. Rocket has been many different people in many different ways, but it’s important to remember his roots. (He’s so 2014 in this, and the art-style will totally take you out if that’s your type of thing. I know it’s mine.)

—

Rocket Raccoon (2016) — 5 Issues

Rocket’s been through a whole lot of shit up until this point, but being stranded on Earth is the cherry on top. His first solo-story, where his grand Rocket-esque, State-of-Liberty-destroying journey is narrated through absolutely gorgeous illustrations that get him so well. The story is fantastic as well, and maybe not-so-subtlety + amazingly takes a dump on America, sending an important message in general.

If you need further convincing, Rocket runs around in his underwear for about two issues. It’s hilarious. Check it out.

—

Rocket (2017) — 6 Issues

His second solo-story.

One of my absolute personal favorites that left me completely shaken by the time I was done with it. I can’t even really begin to describe it without getting too deep into how fucking insane it made me feel.

If you’re into gritty heist/crime sci-fi plots with a healthy amount of crisp, absurdist humor, you’re in luck. If you totally hate that, you’d probably still like it.

Rocket just has that effect on people.

But seriously, go in completely blind and read this. You won’t regret it.

If you need further convincing, yes, this is the one where he dons the infamous Stinger Suit you might’ve seen before on that one puzzle. He does fill out that suit nicely (not a reference).

If you need context, Rocket takes hiatus from the Guardians and gets tangled up in a whole bunch of shit he didn’t sign up for. He’s a bit of a pathetic meow meow. Totally worth. Also, one of the best styles for Rocket, ever.

—

Guardians of Infinity (2016) — 8 Issues

A really, really cool comic that starts off with Rocket being Rocket, “saving the galaxy” through… materialistic means. His team then runs into another team, who runs into another team. After an obligatory fight, they all find out they’re Guardians of the Galaxy groups from different time-frames.

Then the Collectors swoops in and plans to do something unsavory to our favorite raccoon! Oh no! :D

Really though, the writing for this story is phenomenal, and Rocket’s character is done so well. I love the way he’s portrayed in this one. So badass. So smug.

The comic also features one-shot stories that are a blast as well. He’s so silly. Go check it out.

—

GotG: Rocket and Groot Steal The Galaxy! (Prose Novel) by Dan Abnett

Guardians of The Galaxy: Collect Them All (Prose Novel) by Corinne Duyvis

Onto the novels that ripped my heart out.

Holy shit. If you’re. Well. Genuinely, right away, these two books are a work of art.

I don’t even know where to begin, but I just have to say that Rocket Man by David Bowie started playing over the radio as I finished Rocket and Groot: Steal the Galaxy and I felt something, like, stirring within my soul. I felt devastatingly. Something.

These two:

1. Are so, so criminally underrated and deserve fame. The amount of fucking heart put into these works are tangible with every word.

2. Deserve their own reviews, but I can’t even really begin to express how important they are to me.

So I’m just going to write their synopsis’s.

Steal the Galaxy!

A raccoon and a tree walk into a bar. The universe almost collapses into a Capitalist Armageddon. C-3PO stars as our narrator and MC. Rocket may or may not need a therapist. Groot is badass as fuck.

…Disguise sequence.

Gamora is also there. Hi, Gamora :3

Collect Them All!

How found and family can a found family get? Do people ask that question? If you have ever found yourself asking that question, and if you’ve ever breathed, read this novel.

A book about Acceptance and Love and all of that stuff. Which is honestly such a challenge to fathom sometimes, much less write about, but I suppose the Guardians always get it right.

Both of these books also certifiably and perfectly capture each character. If Vol. 3 left a big, gaping hole in your heart, this might help you or possibly make it worse. In a good way, of course.

If you don’t read anything else, if you haven’t even picked up a book in years, if you call yourself a GotG fan: read these novels. You don’t even have to know one thing about these characters to feel attachment by the time the journey is over. It’s a threat and a promise.

—

Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy (Game, 2021)

I asked, how can found family can a found family get???

Some-fucking-how, GotG just. Defies all odds every single time . !

Please for the love of god, if you haven’t played this game, play it.

The tragedy that is the fact it was criminally overshadowed at the time of its release is just terrible. It’s genuinely, outside of my obsession, one of the best times I’ve ever had playing a video game in a long while. And it’s on sale often. Just experience it for yourself. It’s something so incredibly special.

—

Guardians of the Galaxy (2013), specifically #20-23

Venom attaches himself to Rocket and it’s fucking awesome. Also, I love the art-style he had under Valerio Schiti. He always got him right.

———

Get your hands on the comics however you desire, but the method to reading the novels for free is on Archive.org (where you can borrow books). Just be cautious, as only one person can borrow a book at a given time.

#rocket raccoon #gotg #rocket gotg #gotg3 #might add to this later #this is the result of me going through every single instance he's had an appearance ever #Sanely

[costwedge38]

20 Life Can Be Fun For Anyone

Thanks so much for writing this write-up. With any luck you will definitely observe an option to view how a tiny but crucial section of this file will definitely go with in your analysis (just like how numerous other files carry out) and probably help make your analysis a lot more knowledgeable concerning the relevance of the problem and the importance we possess to have in the conversation of the problem. I wish you have appreciated today's document. I’ve been identified with bipolar and have been dealt with along with medicine alone. It appears like my situation is not also dreadful and I am in continual interaction along with all my moms and dads, consisting of my sis. And my ideal good friend, who works outside the residence and does the laundry at the house, is depressed and need to have to leave behind for a couple of holiday seasons. I have to try to get some kind of help from my family members and some kind of therapy or medication. The side effects of the medication has left me with a lot of bodily medical issues. My loved ones is going through for years due to the side results. My physical body is no a lot longer using its best resources to strengthen my health and wellness.". The Daily Mail stated that Mr Cameron has been "in dialogues with the pastor over the achievable impact of this medicine.". On Mental Health Services , Mr Cameron stated he would "completely not talk about" it along with the health and wellness minister, Peter Bone. The thought that I can greatly lessen the variety of drugs is life modifying. I are going to take these medications daily and carry out what I possess to to make it through. If I go to a detox, it is my last respiration or my final activity. And to presume that I am going to provide myself to take up cigarette smoking, a long day, an whole week of job and then take the same drug once more is mindblowing.". "Every night I receive a definitely heavy heart, I can easilyn't focus. Traditionally mental sickness has been ‘dealt with’ in a multitude of unsafe and often horrifying ways. It's like throwing available the door to a hazardous condition (some clients have been thrown from the property because they maynot take a breath). Many patients who have had psychological bad health concerns have been the victims of those in the very most violent and harassing of methods. While not all clients are going through from mental ailment, some in the populace commonly don't seem to be able to obtain the treatments they need to have. All around 7000 years ago trepanation was the treatment de jour. There were three major styles within a single manual: religious beliefs and warfare. But to our found understanding, that's a little as well much. It indicates a belief device that has come to be saturated with religious beliefs and its teachings, along with concepts concerning the right pathway, regarding God and guy. The factor is not that one has actually to be entirely uninformed of religions as an abstraction. We have to be capable to produce one's personal. It was assumed that mental ailment was resulted in by heinous sens and could possibly be cured through drilling tiny holes in to the human brain. Such experiments are not took among neuroscientists anymore, but through much the most realized instance of an efficient treatment for a range of ailments is human brain stimulation in a man who has actually epilepsy. Mind stimulation, not mind-altering drugs, has been shown to be valuable in dealing with neurodegenerative illness. This suggests that it can be the 1st widely utilized cognitive behavioural therapy. While trepanation and other operative strategies such as lobotomies have unsurprisingly fallen out of benefit, there is actually an additional technique – one that has been both celebrated and rejected over the last century: Psychotherapy. In its 1980s form, Psychotherapy became the formal health care designation of the United States after medical doctor Dr. Theodore Gaskin coined the condition "psychotherapy," which he felt would ended up being the formal health care occupation's standard. Speaking as a means to manage mental grief is as old as the account of humankind. What's necessary to take note listed here is that it has occurred over the previous few generations, and there's little bit of question that we are currently going with a phase of profound psychological and mental transformation. The question is whether this is achievable for the a large number of us, or just a minority and not an oppressed group.". As the discussion concerning psychological wellness proceeds, there are actually likewise some issues that need to be ironed out.

In 300 BC, Socrates engaged his pupils through profound group conversations. A lot of dialogues, and also a lot of public ones, were defined by discussion through his pupils, and the trainees' point of views (in numerous of those cases, viewpoints) additionally demonstrated the educational institution's personal sights about the attributes of the subject matter and its central teachings. Certainly, Socrates's viewpoint of mind was thus strongly opposed to any kind of private or social or ethnological oppression that he was forced to retreat to his personal individual approach to handle with it.

#Family Counseling #Marriage Counseling #Mental Health Services In El Paso #Relationship Counselor

[rcksmith]

Mine — Kaz Brekker

(photo not mine)

Requests: “9 from the fluff prompts with Kaz brekker please? It could be where they're keeping it a secret and it slips out? Thanks”

“Could you possibly do a kaz brekker and reader imagine where they are both like in their mid twenties. Number 9 from the fluff prompts “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" "No, that girl is my wife”, I could just imagine him with the smuggest grin saying it. Your a very good writer and thank you if you decide to write this.”

“Could I get a kaz brekker x reader secret relationship with fluff prompts 5, 7, 12, and 14 please?”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

7. “I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

12. “I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!”

14. “I don’t like to pretend we’re not together.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of fights, mention of post-traumatic stress, fluff too.

Word count: 2k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like. I changed some details a little, hope you don't mind

Normal Rules. Smut Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — —

Fissure. That's what mercenaries, thieves, assassins and his enemies were looking for. A fissure to drive Kaz Brekker to ruin. Burn his empire, wood for wood, until there is nothing left but funeral ashes swept away by the winter wind. Even the most infinitesimal fissure would ensure that his enemies infiltrate, like hungry parasites, into the heart of the dungeon of his deepest secrets. Swallowing, absorbing, any hint of what could do the infamous the Bastard of the Barrel down to his own knees.

And Kaz Brekker feared that if they looked into the most secluded corner of his dungeons, where it was reserved to hide the greatest truths of his soul, they would find the one only thing to beg on his knees for would be something he would do without hesitation.

You.

You were like the last summer solstice in a world ruled by darkness, cold and empty. Which he kept in a chest locked with seven chains.

If he had to describe you with the five senses, Brekker would remind that, when he was in the bitter cold of the ocean, clutching the stiffness of dead and putrefying flesh like a lifeboat, a ray of sunshine, warm as the summer, it opened up through the thunderclouds and came down to his face, warming that spot of skin like a kiss from the sun.

And it would be with that memory that he would describe you.

Kaz Brekker shouldn't have fallen in love with you. He was the person who most understood the disastrous consequences if he let himself get carried away by the way his heart sped up whenever he saw you. If he allowed herself to taste the way all of your heat radiated into his body and made him feel alive. But he fell in love.

Everything was all too much. The feeling of life every time you said his name, like a devotion, something religious, lyrical. The sweetness in your eyes, the warm voice. Everything had been too much.

And what should he do? Tell you he missed you every time you went on a mission? Saying that he were jealous and envy of Jesper because the man managed to make you laugh with a silly joke and hug you tight, something Kaz still hadn't been able to do? Tell you it was almost religious the way he venerated your smile? Of course not. Because all these things would have been sensible, and Kaz couldn't do anything sensible around you.

Because when he saw life offering him, with such joy, the one thing that had been denied him all his life, and that he swore never to crave, his first impulse was anger. Stupid, irrational anger.

So, for the first few moments, his entire reaction to you had been cold, distant, almost avoidant. Because the way his whole body shook in hot spasms when, in that summery tone, you called his name, it was too much for Kaz to handle.

“Kaz!” You call, one night.

He heard your voice from across the crow club, and had to close his eyes tightly at the way his heart leapt in his chest.

"Hey, hey." You appeared beside him, your cheeks chased away by coral red, the happy smile and the sparkle in your eyes as someone who have the path to true happiness. "Jessy said you were wanting to find a new way to invade that bank."

Oh perfect. In the same way his body exalted when he heard the sound of your name and your lips, hearing you call Jesper by that infernal nickname had a much more destabilizing effect. And fierce.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at you, in a nonchalant gesture but inviting you to keep talking.

“I happen to know of an underground path.” For an instant, the pride in your smile made Kaz want to smile too. “You and I can put together a map today and we'll be right tomorrow to go.”

That was one of the times Kaz should have made some dry, disinterested, trivial comment, something that made you not want to spend time with him, something that made you turn around and walk away. He should have turned around and left. He had done this over a thousand times with other people and knew it to be one of the best outings.

Still, the acid comment didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

So, like the idiot he became whenever it came to you, Kaz couldn't help but spend an hour in your company. Even if it resulted in him lying in bed at the end of the day, alone and feeling the guilt gnawing at him more and more.

So, before he even knew it, Kaz was already in his office with you, listening to you chatter about things he knew he should have been paying attention to. But the way the crackling of the fire flames in the fireplace flashed across your face was a distraction of unimaginable proportions.

“Jessy and I…”

“You want to stop.” He found himself saying before he even realized it. “That nickname is already exasperating me.”

“Why? Jealousy?” You joked, oblivious to the truth.

Kaz looked at you like your comment was the most pathetic thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to screaming: ‘I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!.’ But he didn't. Instead, the words that came out were:

“No. It's childish and immature, and it doesn't fit with...”

"What if I call you ‘Darling’?” You rested your chin on both palms of your hand, your elbows resting on his desk in his office.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat.

“That way you won't be jealous of Jessy's nickname and…”

“It's not jealousy!” He countered, and too late realized that he didn't disagree in the first instance about the nickname, but about the green color that emanated from his body.

And you didn't let that go either.

Your eyes took on a caustic gleam that you quickly hid, turning to the map on the table and going back to drawing the paths. “Okay, Darling.”

After that night, Kaz's self-control began to crumble.

He gave you death glares whenever you called him that nickname, but he never dared contradict or scold you. Much less deny it. The truth was, the core of his soul wanted this. He wanted every part of your caress warm as summer. He wanted to appreciate how perfect you looked when you called him that way. As if that nickname was born just to be used between you.

Something unique.

Over time, his body's physical reactions began to be stronger, coercive and overwhelming. Kaz felt dry, burning, and you soothed and inflamed him at the same time. You were the breath of peace, and also a glass of hot brandy.

And everything that he once felt dead, frozen or putrefying, slowly began to blossom, reborn and shine.

"Darling." You said, going behind the chair Kaz was sitting in, submerged in the Krisha security system sheets in front of he. “You've been there for hours.”

He ignored you, though his body was all too aware of yours behind him, the way your breath hit the top of his ear, how your heat hit his back like a high summer breeze. Kaz swallowed hard, ordering his eyes to stay on the pages.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice rang out from the top of his head, and Kaz felt his heart race into a cardiac arrhythmia the second your hands went to the back of the chair and your face tilted, chin hovering millimeters from his shoulder, your nose almost brushing his cheek.

Fucking Saints! You were hot! It was as if you had sun bathed, swam in the flames of fire, and been born into the summer.

Kaz lost his breath. His sanity. His soul.

“Do not do this.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

You looked at him, the furs not touching but breath hitting each other's cheeks. Kaz followed your gaze, and suddenly the world subtly turned hot. Pulsing and muffled.

“What?” You whispered, your heart so fast.

This was the time for Kaz to use the touche in a very valid argument. To make you move away as fast as you approached. To nip in the bud any path this interaction between you could take. He should have said about the touch. But he didn't remember. Kaz didn't remember his limitation, his traumas, his demons.

In that second, of insanity and magic, you couldn't do that just because…

"I feel like I cant breathe when I'm around you." He said.

After that day, Kaz realized that life no longer made sense without having you by his side to share it. Money didn't have the same value anymore if you weren't there, the robberies didn't make sense anymore if he couldn't tell you how it was at the end of the day, or have you by his side to fight.

Very quickly, Kaz Brekker realized that he had lost the battle against his own feelings. Loving you was inevitable. And having you close to him was made as essential as breathing. That's when things between the two of you developed faster, more solid, more right. The weeks turned to months, the months to years, and your relationship fortified as gloriously as the hilt of a sword.

Kaz still had very difficult moments with touching, days when a single brush of fur was unbearable and the mention of a kiss was impossible. But you stayed there. Firm and unshakable. Giving your summer smiles,your warm winks, and his nickname that had the power to soothe every nerve in Kaz's body.

However, the more Kaz understand that he was need you to he still live, the deeper he hid any trace of public affection for you. Any clue that could sparked the theory in someone that you were the reason, for Brekker, for the sun rose every morning. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Never.

Kaz Brekker became very aware that his soul was harnessed to yours. And there was nothing in the world that would take you away from he. Not while he lived, and even seven feet from land, Kaz would still find a way to fight for you.

It was a logical decision when he said you two should get married. Kaz was still trying to maintain his serene posture as his soul burned in a fire too eager and excited to make official anything that said you were his. That he had finally managed to have that ray of sunshine in the midst of the atrocious ocean. You, unlike him, exhaled your happiness in excited squeals, little jumps of joy and a passionate, quick kiss on the man in front of you.

And Kaz understood, as perfectly as the sky are blue, that he would do anything, for the rest of his life, to be worthy of that overwhelming happiness that sparkled in yours smiles.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said, feeling himself smile because your happiness for the wedding was exorbitant.

And you, like the little tease you were who loved to make him piss off, smiled even more and hugged him. He love you. Unconditionally.

But, just like the ocean waves, Kaz and you have had your ups and downs. He wasn't a man who had a lot of patience, and you weren't the most obedient, calm woman in the world. You found him exasperating and he found you as stubborn as a door.

"I already said you can't do that!" And there he was, once again, lecturing you because you showed too much affection, in his mind, for him in a public situation.

And, as Kaz fucking Brekker liked to point out, ‘all walls have eyes and ears’.

"We've been together for six years, Kaz!" You tried to keep your blood calm, but you weren't a person to put up with sermons. “Is this going to be our life? Living as if we have the same connection as a boss and an employee?!”

“And what do you want, Y/n?!” He placed both hands on his office desk, looking at you from the other side “Want us to have a party and tell everyone?! Or do you prefer to hang a red target on your chest?!”

"I did not say that!" You were starting to get really angry. “I'm not asking for a billboard saying we're married and you know it! The only thing I'm saying is that you let me choose to sit next to you, take your hand, or tell you I love you when any of us go off on a dangerous mission!"

Kaz shook his head, impassable, his gaze flashing with anger. How did you not realize he was trying to save you?! Save everything you two built, your lives! And all this for what? Walking hand in hand on the street? It was ridiculous!

“This is indisputable!”

“Kaz…”

“I said no!” He slapped his hands on the table.

A less brave woman would have cringed. But not you.

“I don’t like to pretend we’re not together!”

“And I don't like a fucking girl who complains all the fucking time about something I do to save her! But it feels like I've been put up with it for six years, doesn't it?!”

The words hit you like a slap. Crackling, burning and electrifying. You felt yourself holding your breath and your shoulders instinctively tightening back. The room was silent. Loaded with tension, as if lightning had just hit the ground.

You looked at Kaz in amazement. And he pursed his lips when he realized what he'd said.

“Put up with? And you call me ‘fucking girl’ ?” You repeated, your voice low, serious and in a mixture of hurt and outrage. “Good to know.”

You turned your back, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind you hard, making the thud reverberate through the corridors of Kaz's soul.

"Y/n!" He called you, striding to the door "Y/n!"

But when Kaz pulled the doorknob and took a few steps down the hall, it wasn't you he bumped into. It was Nina, trying to hide, in a very terrible way, her curious and shocked expression. In female hands she carried a small stack of documents, probably something important that Kaz needed to check.

He had to check that out. But his eyes, restless and quick, wandered the great hall of the crow club below, watching your figure pass between the bodies, advancing towards the exit.

"Sooo…" Nina started, even though the attention wasn't on her. "Couple fights, right?"

But Kaz didn't think before nodding, trying to get past Nina to catch up with you. But of course the girl wasn't going to let Brekker get away with it that quickly. She was betting with Inej how long you two would pretend to have nothing. And now she was going to get the truth!

"So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" The smile of shock and excitement was wide open on her face.

Kaz muttered a curse, gently pushing the girl aside and moving towards the stairs, aiming to catch up with you. But not before answering:

"No, that girl is my wife!"

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz x kruge #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz x jesper #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #freddy carter x you #freddy carter imagines #freddy carter fluffy #freddy carter x reader #freddy carter

[robininthelabyrinth]

for the prompts: NMJ/JC - Everyone with a functioning brain cell can see that JC just needs someone to tell him he’s doing a good job. And if WWX isn’t stepping up? Well, NMJ definitely will. (Preferably smut and/or fluff) Thank you! ❤️

Compliments - ao3

It started in anger, out of spite.

Traditionally, the world took this to be a bad thing, but in all honesty the vast majority of projects in the Nie sect were started that way – they inherited fiery tempers and spiteful personalities from their ancestors along with their saber cultivation traditions – and it didn’t always turn out badly. There were any number of buildings, techniques, or technological innovations in the Unclean Realm that had started life as a furious fuck you to someone and only turned into something worthwhile about halfway through, once the person involved had calmed down enough to think about what they were doing, realize they were already committed, and then shrug and carry on forward because there was no point in stopping a charge midway.

What Nie Mingjue meant was: there was precedent.

He liked to think it started with Jiang Fengmian, but if Nie Mingjue was being honest with himself, it started back in the Unclean Realm when Nie Huaisang had told him, quite casually over dinner, that he thought that the female cultivator in his class was very pretty and that he’d be happy to marry her.

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue had said, very intelligently. “Huaisang, you’re seven.”

Nie Huaisang had not seen the problem. Instead, he explained very forthrightly that it was only right that he start thinking early on about his marriage, as getting married and having children would be his great contribution to the sect on account of being useless good-for-nothing unfit for anything else –

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue said. “Who told you that?!”

Nie Huaisang claimed he had deduced it.

Nie Mingjue claimed that Nie Huaisang was full of bullshit, and also that he wasn’t good-for-nothing even if he wasn’t good at saber, and anyway even if he was a total good-for-nothing he was still Nie Mingjue’s good-for-nothing and no one had better say a single damn word against him or Nie Mingjue would bite them.

“I meant stab them!” he explained, far too late; Nie Huaisang was already rolling around laughing to the point of tears. “I have a saber. I can stab people! I’m actually very scary, you know!”

Nie Huaisang hadn’t believed him one bit and had carried on, seemingly at peace and forgetting everything, but Nie Mingjue had gone seeking advice from all of his elders and counselors and the more dependable senior disciples of his sect, abruptly terrified that he was permanently damaging Nie Huaisang by raising him the wrong way or something. Didn’t children need encouragement at that age? Weren’t they all young and tender peaches liable to be bruised at the slightest glance or young sprouts that needed to be sheltered from the harsh wind lest they grow up crooked?

Everyone assured him that children were hardier than they appeared, flexible and capable of bouncing back from just about anything. He'd pressed, though, pointing out that even the most flexible wood would eventually form a crack in the face of a vicious hurricane, and in the end they'd admitted that it was better to avoid applying too much pressure at too young an age, that a child squeezed too hard or not hard enough might develop neuroses that would hinder them in the future.

They mostly tried not to look at him when they said that, presumably thinking to themselves that Nie Mingjue was little more than a child himself and had already been subject to the worst pressures possible, which would undoubtedly result in who knows what future issues, but he hadn’t paid that part any mind. As far as he was concerned, his life was already a loss – he had sworn to take revenge for his father, to make that ancient monster Wen Ruohan pay with his life for what he had done and furthermore he'd sworn to pay back the blood debt in full before any of that burden passed to Nie Huaisang.

Letting Nie Huaisang grow up happy – that was what mattered.

Letting him be insulted when Nie Mingjue wasn’t looking played no part in that plan. If Nie Huaisang were going to be insulted, let it be by outsiders who he wouldn’t need to care about! Within their Nie sect, at minimum, he should be doted upon and honored, or else those responsible would have to explain themselves to Nie Mingjue.

Those dark thoughts still lingering in his mind, he had gone to the Lotus Pier for a discussion conference, and that, perhaps, was where it really started.

Rumor had already made the entire cultivation world aware that Jiang Fengmian had found the orphaned son of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, and that he had taken him into his home as his ward, allowing him to become a Jiang sect disciple – treating him almost as one of the family, even. That much was known, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Jiang Fengmian proudly introduced him or even more proudly showed him off, praising him to the high heavens.

What did come as a surprise was how little he praised his own son standing beside him, despite them being only a few days apart in age. It was as if Jiang Fengmian had simply forgotten that such a creature existed, much less that he had himself contributed to its spawning, and the constant looks of hope – invariably crushed – the child sent him made it clear that the present situation had been going on for some time.

Fuck you, Nie Mingjue thought, seeing red, seeing instead Nie Huaisang in his failed saber classes, struggling so desperately to keep up with the rest even though his body wouldn’t allow for it, being told he was useless and a good-for-nothing and fit for nothing but marriage. Fuck you, Jiang Fengmian.

He couldn’t say that, of course.

So instead he said, “Excellent stance,” to the child, who'd received the courtesy name Wanyin but seemed to be universally called Jiang Cheng. “Do you know the others in the set?”

Jiang Cheng, staring at him, very slowly nodded, and demonstrated them.

“Absolutely perfect,” Nie Mingjue said loudly, drawing attention to himself with his over-loud voice that everyone would automatically forgive on account on him being both a Nie and a young man. “You can see how hard you’ve worked at it, and it has paid off handsomely. You are very lucky in your son, Sect Leader Jiang.”

“…thank you,” Jiang Fengmian said, a little bemused at being interrupted. He’d been talking yet again about Wei Wuxian’s brilliance at picking up the sword again after years of living on the streets without practice, even though at the moment the smiling boy's admittedly impressive skills were still largely wild and undisciplined.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and said: “When exactly did you say the opening festivities would be starting?”

Jiang Fengmian had clearly forgotten about that in his enthusiasm, so he quickly hurried back to the actual subject at hand and the discussion conference was started in earnest.

It was almost enough to allow Nie Mingjue to forget the matter and put it behind him.

Or, it would have been, if only Jiang Fengmian hadn’t continued to insert praise for Wei Wuxian at every possible instance – it was as if he were the man’s first-born son, rather than another person’s child.

Irritated beyond belief, Nie Mingjue started complimenting Jiang Cheng every time Jiang Fengmian said something nice about Wei Wuxian, and he made sure to keep his compliments accurate: he was a hard worker, dedicated and sincere, thoughtful, clever, not overly arrogant…

“Wei Wuxian came up with his own ideas for a sword style already,” Jiang Fengmian claimed at one point. “You can see him on the training ground now, practicing it – take a look!”

Nie Mingjue picked up a stone and flicked it over with his fingers, making Wei Wuxian jump half a chi into the air and nearly fall on his ass.

“Weak foundation, and he over-commits,” he analyzed dryly, because it was true, and because no one else was saying it. He didn't make it any harsher than it had to be: he had nothing against the boy himself, of course; it was only that he knew from experience that it was much easier to be the one being complimented than the one not. “He’s got his head so high in the clouds that his feet are barely touching the ground – the weakest fierce corpse would knock him flat as a pancake with a childish style like that. He’d be better off sticking with orthodox or he’ll end up in real trouble one day.”

“Sect Leader Nie, really,” Jiang Fengmian said disapprovingly. “He’s only nine.”

“Old enough to pick up bad habits,” Nie Mingjue retorted. “Your son’s the same age and he’s as steady as a rock. If Jiang Cheng keeps going as he is, he’ll have a strong enough base to outlast the fiercest storm.”

“A rock has no imagination,” Jiang Fengmian said, and was he actually arguing that his son was inferior? Out loud, in front of outsiders? Did the man have no shame? “Mingjue, you’re young, but you must know that my Jiang sect prizes freedom and creativity as the highest virtue –”

“Would you rather build a house using a firework or a foundation stone?” Nie Mingjue asked, doing his best not to outwardly bristle at the condescendingly intimate use of his name by someone who might be technically his elder but legally his equal. “Tell me, Fengmian, does your Jiang sect’s acclaimed ‘freedom’ only allow for people to be as fluid as the river and not as steady as the earth?”

Jiang Fengmian faltered, clearly not knowing how to answer that.

Nie Mingjue raised his hands in a sarcastic salute: “As the leader of a sect whose style is based on a grounded foundation, I would be very happy if you would educate me in your wisdom. No doubt my peers would benefit as well.”

Perhaps it was at that point that Jiang Fengmian realized that his words could be misinterpreted as an insult to all the sects whose styles were less free-flowing than the Jiang – just about all of them except for maybe the Lan and their subsidiary sects, given their preference for techniques modeled on the wind over the water – and moreover that this was a discussion conference, where every word was political, and that a great deal of people were glaring balefully at him. He hastily moved the conversation onwards, and left the subject of his sons for another day.

Later that evening, Madame Yu came over to where Nie Mingjue was nursing a bowl of very fine wine that he didn’t especially feel like consuming. Before he could start worrying about the Purple Spider’s intentions, she said, voice stiff, “Your words regarding my son are too kind. His skills are still inferior; he has a great deal of progress yet to be made.”

“He’s only nine,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling mortified that she’d noticed his little temper tantrum, which he had belatedly realized was probably extremely obvious. “Anyway, I wasn't lying. He has a good foundation; he’ll be a fearsome cultivator one day, there’s no doubt. I only said what I saw.”

“You didn’t comment about Wei Wuxian,” she said. “You must have noticed his genius.”

“Geniuses don’t need to be praised overmuch,” Nie Mingjue said. He himself had been termed a genius by his teachers, and he’d hated every single moment of it – couldn’t he just be good at things without having people fall all over themselves to compliment him? He’d enjoyed it at the start, but after a while it had started to wear on him; he was expected to be a genius in all things, and being simply ordinary was suddenly seen as failing. “It’s the ones that have to work hard that do, or else they’ll be discouraged…comparing someone to another person’s child works as a spur to a certain extent, but after a while it loses its potency as a tool.”

Your husband is a fucking idiot, he didn’t say. It’s his own son! How could he speak like that about him? Shouldn’t he be holding him in his palms like a gentle flame, protecting him from the wind and rain? How can he bear to scold his son when he hasn't shown that the scolding is meant for his benefit?

“Perhaps,” Madame Yu said, but it was clear on her face that she wasn’t about to start taking parenting advice from a half-grown sprout like Nie Mingjue. “Nevertheless, your words were kind.”

She swept away after that, much to his relief. He shook his head and daydreamed about a magic tool that would make this whole nightmarish experience go by that much quicker.

In the end, it went by at the same speed it always did. It could have ended there, but Nie Mingjue kept up the habit of blatantly complimenting Jiang Cheng in future sect conferences as well, if only because it clearly irritated Jiang Fengmian – less because Nie Mingjue was praising his son and more because it was so obviously meant as an indirect critique of Jiang Fengmian’s skills as a parent or sect leader, and moreover it reminded all the other sects of that unfortunate interchange and made them less inclined to listen to him – and of course, because, well, once you’ve started a charge, you had to finish it even if you came to your senses about halfway through.

He made sure to keep it proportionate, of course, since there was nothing worse than false praise. He didn’t really mean anything by it, other than the half-formed thought that someone ought to be doing it – that the boy should know that someone looked at him and Wei Wuxian and remembered to praise him first. Nie Mingjue praised Wei Wuxian too, of course, since the boy often deserved it; it was only that he made a particular point not to forget about Jiang Cheng, either.

(He also made sure the other sect leaders saw how well the technique could be used to fluster Jiang Fengmian, an intrusion into his personal life that could be masked in perfect politeness, and several of them picked up the same tact, though less consistently than Nie Mingjue – Sect Leaders Jin and Wen, naturally, always looking for a weakness, but interestingly enough also Lan Qiren, who was normally above such petty maneuvers. Possibly he was actually just complimenting Jiang Cheng because he sincerely approved of him.)

He didn’t think much of it.

Nie Mingjue didn’t think much of it during the other discussion conferences, or when he came to the Cloud Recesses to pick up Nie Huaisang, who had – amazingly – actually managed to pass this time, although the expression on Lan Qiren’s face suggested the pass might have more to do with the other sect leader’s desire to never see Nie Huaisang haunt his classroom ever again.

“You know what, don’t tell me. Tell me….hm…how did Jiang Wanyin do?” Nie Mingjue asked, hand over his eyes as if it could forestall the headache. “He’s a bright boy, and knows how to put his mind to something when he wants. Tell me about him instead, it’ll be less depressing.”

“He’s very bright,” Lan Qiren agreed. “Very thoughtful, and very thorough. He sometimes errs towards conservatism out of fear of giving the wrong answer, but that’s just a matter of confidence; his thinking is very good. He’s very clear-sighted as long as the matter is logical, rather than emotional.”

“No surprise,” Nie Mingjue grunted. “He’ll be a sect leader worthy of respect, in his time.”

When he’s rid of that father of his dragging him down, he thought ungraciously, and he saw Lan Qiren bob his head in a sharp nod of unspoken agreement.

“All right,” he said. “I’m adequately fortified now. Tell me about Huaisang.”

Lan Qiren gave him a look of profound sympathy.

It wasn’t until much later, during the Sunshot Campaign, that it was first called to his attention – by Jiang Cheng himself, oddly enough.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he hissed, having stayed behind after one of their meetings.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Doing – what?”

“You – you said – about me…!”

Nie Mingjue tried to recall what he’d said during the meeting just now. “That you – were doing an excellent job while facing much higher level of obstacles than everyone else?” he hazarded, because he had said something like that. “Or was it the bit about how if any of them had needed to rebuild their sect and fight at the same time, we’d all be doomed because they couldn’t multitask for shit?”

Yeah, it was probably that one.

“I didn’t mean any offense by referencing what happened to your sect,” he said, hoping to explain. “It was only –”

“I didn’t take offense,” Jiang Cheng mumbled. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but – it happened, everyone knows that it happened, not talking about it isn’t going to make it not have happened. That’s not what I meant…why do you keep saying such nice things about me?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Because they’re true?”

Jiang Cheng’s cheeks flushed red. “You’ve always said nice things about me. Ever since I was a little kid – every time you saw me, at the discussion conferences, or the Cloud Recesses, or even in your letters to my father…”

He had in fact done that.

“I just want to know why. Is it – my father’s not around, you can’t be doing it just to piss him off, even though I know that was part of it. Why me?”

Nie Mingjue coughed a little, having not realized that Jiang Cheng had noticed. Or possibly even overheard, in regards to the Cloud Recesses. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of the other person’s child,” he said, and Jiang Cheng nodded his head sharply, clearly thinking of Wei Wuxian. “You’re Huaisang’s.”

“Me?” Jiang Cheng seemed unduly vulnerable when he asked. “You compare him – to me?”

“It’s amazing he tolerated you at the Cloud Recesses,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. In fact, his brother had all but declared war on Jiang Cheng in absentia on account of all Nie Mingjue’s comments, only for his first letter home from the Cloud Recesses that year to be I see why you like him! He’s cute! A perfect match for you! because he’d apparently decided that Nie Mingjue had a crush on the boy.

Which he certainly hadn’t – at least not when he’d been that age, anyway. Jiang Cheng had grown up to embody every single one of the compliments Nie Mingjue had paid him when he’d been younger, especially with the maturity and natural aura of command that came to him after his personal tragedy.

“But why…you knew Wei Wuxian about as well as you knew me.”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “And that would have helped Huaisang how, exactly? If I wanted to compare him with someone who picked things up the first time they saw it, I wouldn’t need to go outside the Nie sect for that – I was also considered a genius when I was young. It’s no failing to be born without a vast and unending natural talent; Huaisang’s issue has always been his unwillingness to put in the effort.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him.

“Anyway, your father was so blinded by his adoration for Wei Wuxian that he overlooked your merits, which are different but no less impressive,” Nie Mingjue added. “As someone who was trying to figure out how to raise a child, it irritated me; I thought someone ought to make it clear to you that you were seen.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice strangely hoarse. “Yes, you – you succeeded.”

He paused for a moment, meeting Nie Mingjue’s eyes intently, and then abruptly said, “I’ll be leaving,” and dashed out.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure if that meant he should stop or not. Jiang Cheng had said he wasn’t offended…anyway, it was a fixed habit by now. He’d been doing it for over half his life! He couldn’t stop that easily! It would be like trying to stop his temper, or a charge – there was nothing for it.

Jiang Cheng would just have to live with a few compliments.

“Wow, you’re an idiot,” Nie Huaisang said when he told him about the incident, months later while he was lying in bed, recovering from the disaster that had been the end of the war. “I’ll fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“I’m going to tell him you’re dying,” Nie Huaisang decided.

“You’re going to do what?!”

“Stay in bed, da-ge! Doctor’s orders!”

The Nie sect chief doctor was an extremely terrifying person. Nie Mingjue stayed in bed.

Some time later, Jiang Cheng stormed in, face pale.

“Huaisang’s a rotten liar and I’m going to be fine,” Nie Mingjue said at once.

Jiang Cheng stopped mid-storm, and abruptly deflated. “Really?”

“Really. I would’ve stopped him, but I’m stuck in bed for the moment.”

Jiang Cheng took a seat next to him. “That sounds serious. You shouldn’t underestimate war wounds, especially given your sect’s tendency towards qi deviations...”

“Compassionate as well,” Nie Mingjue teased. “I’ll have to add that to the rotation of compliments.”

Jiang Cheng flushed red. “You’re…planning on continuing?”

“For the rest of my life, however short it might be,” Nie Mingjue said, because he was an honest person, even when it was inconvenient. He was going to explain about the habit, and the concept of stopping mid-charge, but he didn’t manage to start before Jiang Cheng grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up into a kiss.

After that, he figured that maybe explaining that part of it wasn’t necessary. He might be slow on the uptake, but he wasn’t actually stupid.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #jiang cheng #jiang fengmian #lan qiren #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #compliments

[fanmoose12]

after death do us apart

Summary: Levi thinks his house is haunted.

Levi is in his kitchen, busy with a very important task of measuring leaves for the tea when he hears a loud, obnoxious thud, coming from his living room.

He softly curses, grabs his cane and rushes, as fast as he can with his body not as strong as it was before, there.

When he arrives, he sees that everything else is in order, except a picture frame that is now lying on a floor.

Levi's blood boils, an annoyance bordering on anger rushing through him. This picture - that one that now lies on the floor like some kind of useless shit - is his most priced possession. It is the only thing that keeps the memory of them alive, the one thing that reminds him during cold and dark nights that he might be alone right now, but there was a time where he wasn't.

It's a picture of him, Hange, Erwin and Mike all standing together with their arms around each other. He doesn't remember if that had ever happened, but that's what he had found in one of Moblit's notebook and after he made that discovery, he just couldn't leave it behind.

No picture of them exists - Mike and Erwin were gone even before they found out what a photo camera was, and in her last years, Hange was always too busy to take a single photo.

He regrets it now, not pushing her to take it, but Moblit's picture is vibrant enough. He doubts a photo could capture their essence quite like his sharp eyes and skilfful hands could.

Onyakopon tells him there are more pictures of Hange now. There are portraits made by talented artists that paint Hange as the last Commander of Survey Corps or during her last moments on Earth.

They're hanged in museums and various memorials but Levi doesn't wish to see any of them. He doesn't care about them, those pictures - they were drawn by talented artists, and Levi doesn't doubt that.

But they never knew Hange, not like he did. So how could they come up with something worthy of the light she bestowed on this world? How they could ever hope to put it on paper?

Levi crouches down, his bones and protesting, and picks up the picture frame.

Thankfully, it is still intact.

But just as his old, broken heart swells with relief, there is another thud. This time, the book falls down, nearly missing Levi's head.

He curses again, loud and vulgar, letting out the best of profanities the Underground taught him.

He whirls around, his eye searching for the offender. The room is empty, though. It's mostly silent too, the only sounds flowing around are those from outside his window. But then he hears it, a faint, feeble murmur that sounds almost like "sorry".

His heart clenches, his hand gripping the cane to keep himself grounded.

He knows that particular sorry. Heard many times many years ago - ehen he stumbled over the barely conscious, sleep deprived body, when his shirt got soaked in tea, soup or some kind of possibly dangerous chemicals, heard it repeating over and over as gentle, trembling hands inspected his injuries and wiped away the blood.

It was sometimes accompanied by cheerful, loud laughter, other times - with quiet, broken sobs.

He couldn't hear that sorry. He couldn't.

It was just a trick of imagination, nothing more, nothing less.

I am not old enough to go senile yet, he thinks as he puts the picture where it belongs to.

It was just a trick of imagination, he repeats and leaves the room.

He goes back to the kitchen and resumes his task. The skin on the back of his neck is prickling, like someone stares intently at it, but Levi chases that feeling away, convincing himself that he's simply being paranoid.

He pointedly ignores the quiet sound, the one that resembles a sigh of disappointment and the one he heard too many times too, during long nights at the lab and inside Commander's office, as well.

***

It's not the first weird (unexplained, she would say) thing that happened in his house. There are instances happening all over the place, each of them brings a different degree of strangeness

Windows and doors - close and open on their own volition, lights turn on and off, books, his clothes, kitchen ware - disappear for hours only to appear in the most random of places, bangs and knocks sound at all times of the day, merciless to his sleeping pattern.

Logically, he knows that it isn't normal. He also knows that he probably should talk about it with someone. But he was never good with that thing - talking. All the people he was somewhat comfortable sharing his troubles are now dead and gone.

He theoretically can discuss it with Gabi and Falco, but he doesn't want to, because, well, no matter how big they think they are, they're still children. Onyakopon is out of question too, because he might just get too worried and then send him into that building on the edge of the town - mental institution, he calls it.

And Levi might be old, but he's not senile. Yet.

Probably. He hopes so at least.

His mind is still his own, broken but not shattered. He knows right from wrong, sees the difference between reality and a dream.

He still functions properly, and yet those instances don't back away.

He'd ignore it, write it off as a product of imagination or strange coincidence. If only it happened once. Or twice. Three times even. Three weird happenings in a row is hard, but possible to ignore. But when it happens every damn day, for almost dozen times, it's not just hard to ignore. It's fucking annoying too.

He knows a name he can put to describe it all, of course. Born and raised in the depth of Underground, how can he not? Stories like this were well known and greatly appreciated down there. They were children of the dark, after all, friends with shadows. Everything dark and scary, anything feared above their little world was welcomed and encouraged.

Isabel used to warn him about enraged, vengeful spirits that hunt those who wronged them or those who disturbed their resting place. Kenny - when he was in a less shitty, kinder mood - used to tell him about souls that die without fulfilling their purpose and were destined to roam through the land of the living for all eternity, unable to sleep with their business unfinished.

Before putting him to bed or whenever she felt especially sentimental, his mother used to speak of those unlucky ones who died before their loved ones did.

"They cannot find peace even in death," she said. "And so they come back to our world and stay close to the ones they still cannot let go, watching them until they are able to reunite."

He never believed in those stories, though. Perhaps, he was born and raised in the Underground, but he got out of it, lived his best years with the sun shining on his face and wind blowing through his hair.

He thought ghosts doesn't exist.

But now that his best years are behind him, now that he has seen enough shit to know that anything is possible, now that some days he himself feels like a ghost, he starts thinking of them more and more.

Hange is gone, he reminds himself, she's gone and even though you miss her like crazy, it won't bring her back.

Hange is gone, and none of it is real.

But, god, does he really wishes that it was. *** It is the middle of the night, and Levi feels a presence behind him. It's not ominous like in that book about ghosts he recently found. It's quite soothing, actually. It makes him almost content.

It's not looming or hoovering over his form either. It's right next to him, as though this something - or someone - lays on a bed close to him.

It doesn't bother him anymore, nearly not as much as it did before. It brings him comfort, in some sort. It reminds him of-

No. It doesn't.

The presence behind him shifts and Levi feels the blanket slip from his legs.

No, that won't do.

He tugs the blanket back, but either he's getting too weak with age or that presence, ghost or whatever is so much stronger than him, but he can't get it back. They fight for it for a while, each struggling to get the upper hand. Levi yanks it back, applying all the force that's still left in him, but bears no result. He grits his teeth, sweat gathering on his temples as he pulls the blanket.

"Give it back, you little sh-"

He doesn't get to finish.

The loud, snapping sound of ripping cloth cuts him off.

"Fuck!" Levi yells, frustrated. It was his favorite blanket. "Is this so funny to you, you piece of shit? Why do you keep tormenting me?"

There is a bit of silence, and then lights in his room turn on. With wide eyes, Levi watches the paper levitate from a small pile on his desk. Pen appears next, and it hovers above the paper, the sounds of furious scribbling filling the dark room.

Before he can say anything else, shout more profanities or threaten the invisible fucker to get out (he may not be as strong as he was before, but he has a cane and he still knows how to use it effectively), the paper starts flying, catching him right in the face.

Levi takes it in his hands, squinting his good eye to see what's written there.

It IS funny, but i didn't wish to torment you. You know that, right?

Something resembling a sob escapes from his lips. Levi fists his hands into sheets below him, but eight fingers is apparently not enough to ground him and keep him from falling.

"Who are you?" he asks shakily, his voice breaking.

The pen starts moving again, flying over another paper. This one isn't thrown in his face. It's gently laid next to his thigh. Levi takes it, and his hands shake so much it gets hard to read. Words swim between his eyes, but Levi persists, laying the note on his lap and bending over to see better.

His whole world shakes when he finally deciphers the words.

Haven't you guessed already?

He closes his eyes and some sound escapes past his lips, he's not sure if that can be called a sob or a chuckle, or a combination of both, but his whole body is trembling as he tries to fight strength to whisper,

"Hange?"

From somewhere close to him, on his left side where she always used to be, he hears a delighted, happy laughter.

He looks around the room, his eye shifting, desperate to find her, but he sees nothing.

Fear grips at his heart.

So just a hallucination then? Simple wishful thinking?

"Where are you?" he murmurs, giving it all another chance. "Hange-"

"I'm here," a warm sensation travels up his forearm. It doesn't exactly feel like an ordinary touch would, but it's there, it seems real and it fills his chest with hope. "Right here, a little to your left," she continues. "Just look at me, Levi."

He does, immediately he does. But there is no one next to him. The gentle sensation doesn't fade, gets more persistent if anything, but Levi still can't see her.

"You need to look a little bit harder," Hange murmurs. "If you can hear me, I'm sure you can see me."

Levi stares, his eye focused on the empty place next to him. He strains his vision, moves his gaze up and down, huffs in frustration and then finally, finally, he sees something.

It's vague, indistinct, barely visible in the dark, but he makes out the outline of the body. He can see the mop of brown hair, and they're messy as always, can see strong arms and wide shoulders, that long, prominent nose, that rosy, soft lips that are stretched out in a hopeful smile, those brown, sparkly he missed so much.

"Hange," he breathes out, his voice barely above whisper.

He wants to touch her, god, he wants to touch her so much, but when he puts his hand above hers, it goes right through her.

"The situation is not exactly perfect," Hange laughs. "I don't think you can touch me, and I can't exactly touch you as well."

"I don't care," he shakes his head and moves his fingers, until his and Hange's are close. He doesn't feel much, but something warm is still there and it still makes his breath stumble.

Hange is here, she's not gone, not completely, she's here, with him. It is more than enough.

*** They fall into a sort of routine after that. It's easy with Hange, as it always was.

She disappears for short periods of time, refusing to tell Levi where she goes.

"They asked me not to tell you," she says enigmatically, and doesn't ever elaborate, no matter how many Levi asks.

At first, he still worries he's going crazy, but then Falco, Gabi and Onyakopon show up. They all sit down around the small coffee table in Levi's living room, chatting amongst themselves and sharing the last news and gossips.

"You look healthier," Falco remarks, as Levi brings the tea from the kitchen.

As soon as he puts the cups down, the chaos begins.

The door shuts with a loud bang, the windows rattle and chandelier above them starts to dangerously tremble.

Levi also notes that Hange is careful not to make any mess, but she still acts so damn loud. And dramatic. He hides a sigh as he continues to sip on his tea and watch Onyakopon, Gabi and Falco lose their shit in front of him.

Gabi ducks behind an armchair, Falco close on her heels, curling around her. Onyakopon keeps frantically looking around, his breath quick and shallow. Levi can almost hear the sound of his panicked heartbeat.

"Stop it, four-eyes," he murmurs, too softly to everyone else to hear (not that they could pay attention to him amidst all that clutter anyway).

Everything stills immediately. Silence washes over his apartment, interrupted only by Onyakopon's gasps.

Hange snickers beside him, but Levi is the only who can hear her.

"This was fun," she giggles, running a hand over his shoulder.

Levi can't disagree with her on that one.

"What was that?" Onyakopon exclaims, clutching his heart. "Was it-"

"A ghost?" Gabi cries out, looking both horrified and excited.

Levi glances at Hange, silently telling her 'she looks just like you'. She waves him off and turns back to Gabi.

"Is is the first time it happens?" Falco asks.

"No," Levi answers, shrugging. A week ago, he'd be as disturbed as his friends are, but now he moved past disturbance to acceptance to delight. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"You aren't safe here," Falco, bless his young soul, looks genuinely worried, down to the deep crease on his forehead. "We should look for another apartment."

"Don't bother. I'm quite comfortable here."

Of course, he's comfortable. Hange is here with him, after all.

"But!" Gabi tries to protest, but Levi silences her with a raised palm.

"I'm not injured or unwell," he gestures on himself, as if to illustrate his point. "And, besides, it gives house some character, don't you think?"

"A very scary character," Onyakopon notes.

"Well," Levi almost smiles, hearing Hange's laughter behind his back. "The house is not very different from its master then."

His guests leave soon after, but not before Gabi and Falco make him swear to call them if anything 'more dangerous and scarier' happens.

As soon as they're out, Levi sits down in his favorite armchair. Hange flies over to him.

"So," she looks up at him, and the bright sparkle in her eyes, even though it is still a bit indistinct, sets his heart racing. "Have I convinced you that you're not going crazy?"

He wants to ask how, opens his mouth even, but then promptly shuts it closed. Of course, it is Hange. She knows his thoughts better than he does.

And if he had any doubts about her realness, they've disappeared right in that moment.

*** Hange is almost always next to him, hovering over his shoulder and constantly chatting into his ear. It almost feels like the good old days.

Although now he can't kick her leg whenever she starts teasing or rambling too much. His trademark glare has to be good enough, though.

He brings Hange books and introduces her to all kinds of new technology. She is beaming like a child at every new thing he shows her, and Levi's heart is so full of love for that weirdo, he's afraid it's going to burst.

Hange accompanies him on his strolls too, and his poker face has never put to trial more than during those moments, when Hange starts joking or fooling around, making him almost lose all of his composure.

He can't laugh or even berate her in public, and she knows it, goddamn. And uses it for her advantage, the asshole.

Levi gets his revenge when they're back at his house, refusing to give her new books until she swears to behave.

She swears every time, hand on her chest and all that. And she breaks that promise the very same day. Levi can't stay mad at her, though. He never could.

*** "You know, I thought you were a vengeful spirit at first," he shares with her one evening.

He sits in front of the fire, his legs outstretched to the source of warmth. Hange is laying on the floor, book hovering above her. She closes and turns to Levi.

"I could be," she says. "But, unfortunately, the people I'd like to haunt are long dead as well. Floch is gone, Eren is too..." Hange scoffs, shaking her head. "And I can't very well haunt every bloodthirsty soldier back in Paradise. Too much work for the old, frail me."

Levi lifts an eyebrow. "You don't look that old to me. Especially, when compering with me..."

"Oh, Levi," Hange rises and gets closer to him. She sits down on his lap, and Levi feels warmth spread through the skin of his cheek as Hange puts her hand on it. There is a smile on her lips, the one that Levi knows too well. The one that means that Hange is going to say something very, very stupid. She opens her mouth and proves him right once again. "I was always more attractive than you," Hange murmurs. "Nothing changed since my death."

He rolls his eye and laments that he can't flick her nose.

Hange is still smiling, and when she leans in, he can almost feel a ghost of a kiss on his lips. *** "Don't you ever feel regret?" Levi asks one day.

He is sitting in his wheelchair, looking at the bright setting sun from the small garden near his house.

Hange is on top of him, her long legs dangling from the wheelchair. As he speaks up, she turns to him, and the happy expression turns into something more thoughtful.

"Regret?" she repeats, frowning. "What can I ever regret?"

"This?" Levi gestures around. "I know, you're still here, but don't..." he frowns, struggling to find the right words. "Don't you wish for something more? For us to have a proper chance?"

Hange looks up at the sky, and for a moment she's quiet. Levi thinks if he should take his words back, change the subject completely but it's something that's been bugging him for a long time. He's happy, so happy, that Hange can still be with him. But there are moments when he wishes for... more. To be able to hold her hand and share meals with her, to walk with her through the streets without worrying that someone might think he's some drunkard or lunatic who talks to himself.

He knows it's selfish to even think about it, he already received so much more than he deserved, but isn't selfishness an inherent part of a human?

Sometimes, he just can't help but long for something more.

"I'm sure you know what a method of trial and error means," Hange begins, looking back at him. Her words confuse him, but before he can open his mouth, Hange shushes him and continues. "Remember those days at my lab? Nothing ever worked out, every experiment turned into an ever bigger disaster than the previous one, and I was so frustrated I wanted to crawl up the wall. But there was a certain beauty in it all - I tried, I failed, I tried again. Over and over, until something good came out. And, boy," she chuckles. "When something worked, it worked perfectly. And, maybe, all of this, all of us," she swiftly runs her fingertips through his brow and Levi shivers at the warm, gentle feeling that spreads down to his soul. "As a failed attempt. We tried, it didn't work," she pauses, and her eyes are bright, much brighter than the sun behind her. "We can try again."

Her words stir something inside, a long forgotten feeling of hope. But he still can't accept it so easily, the cynic in him fights to make himself known.

"But you're already dead," he protests.

"And that means this attempt has failed. Not as spectacularly as that time when my experiment blew up and burned Moblit's eyebrows, but... not a perfect success either. We can try again, though. We can say goodbye, walk from each other and then meet again, in some other place and time."

"And what if we fail again?"

"Then we try again. And again, and again, until we can get it right. And when we finally do, oh boy!" she exclaims, flailing her arms into the air. "Wouldn't that be spectacular?"

She laughs, so happy and free, and Levi wishes to gather her in his arms and never let go. All he can do right now, though, is circle his hands around her waist, imagining that he's holding her.

Just like always, he trusts Hange.

They will meet again, and, maybe, it will all fall apart in a disaster worse than this one. But they can try again. They can keep trying, until... forever.

And, perhaps, that's the true beauty of life.

#not me ignoring all of my wips to write another barely comprehensible oneshot #ghost hange though! #we need more ghost hange lmao #levihan #levihan fanfiction

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

i saw your post about Charles and what his personality past and part in the story line so i was wondering if u could do the same for vlad? :)

Ah, well, I can at least let you know what I’ve seen so far? I haven’t delved too far into Vlad, and some of his general impressions can be confusing, so I’ll do my best to make it sensible and unbiased! Here you go lovely <33333

Fair warning, there will be mentions of a lot of JPN app content since Vlad and his boys aren’t around much in the ENG app yet.

My general sense of Vlad is basically discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha.

What I mean by this is to say–according to what I’ve read so far–his clan/family were murdered by vampire hunters in cold blood when he was just a young boy. Presumably as a result of that traumatic event, he harbors a sizable enmity towards humanity and kind of lashes out on them in weirdly specific moments of violence. Another aspect of his motivation is something that’s mentioned within Comte’s route; which is that Vlad went through the timespace door on his own one day and allegedly saw a devastated future, where nothing remains of life on earth more or less.

I guess the reason I find him to be so perplexing is that he speaks about his actions in terms of efficiency, while most of the things he does just feel like unhappy outbursts (v often a product of unresolved trauma symptoms, I’d wager.) I also say this because he appears to have no larger pattern to his fury beyond the original event of his loss. Most of the human beings he attacks aren’t much of a threat to him and hurting them really doesn’t bring him any dividends beyond revenge.

For instance, he insists his disdain for humanity and insistence on controlling them is for the sake of ensuring they do not destroy the future–the horrifying wasteland he witnessed when he traveled through the timespace door. However, I’m not really sure how his current movements really speak to that goal? I mean sure, maybe he’s relying on Faust to create an immortal human so that humans will be forced to care because it will be their future too, but he doesn’t allow Faust to draw his pureblood blood for experimenting. (One can most certainly argue this was more about a lack of trust, and perhaps for plenty reason: Faust is vindictive enough to try to turn the tables and exert control over Vlad, or act on his own whims with his findings.) But if that’s the solution he’s waiting on, turning the rivals of the men in the mansion doesn’t really bring him any closer to that vision either? I mean, what good does it do to bring back Gilles de Rais–a prominent French serial killer? How would unleashing him on the populace help humanity “realize the error of it’s short-sighted and wasteful ways” and move to a brighter future?

Can’t help it, I ask these questions as I read.

In Comte’s main story, Comte hammers home that Vlad is not somebody to be taken lightly. One day when MC goes out to buy flowers, Vlad poses as a human florist to sell them to her–which is how Comte finds out he’s in France, and that he’s made contact with MC. When prompted, Comte describes him in a very particular way; and I think people really overlook this when they talk about their relationship. He says that Vlad is frighteningly pure in terms of the way he thinks and acts. The way I understood his description (given what I’ve seen of Vlad) is that Comte really does mean it point blank: Vlad is very simple in terms of why and how he does things. The issue with this is that nuance and context are lost on Vlad as well–and that’s where the problems start to flood in. Vlad is angry at humanity for what they’ve done to him. Baseline? That’s fair, they killed his damn family. However, Vlad thinks that by extension he has the right to decimate the general public and attack people completely uninvolved in his hurt.

And that isn’t right either–it’s ignoring so many factors here. He’s ignoring how much vampires use and toy with humans as pawns, it’s ignoring the massive power imbalance between him and his victims (this really isn’t a case of self-defense most of the time, nobody but Comte/Leo is a sizable threat to him), and he’s ignoring whether or not a person even did anything to deserve his retributive violence. While murder is never okay, it is perhaps more understandable when we see Jeanne’s frenzied and violent belligerence in response to a man who murders a boy’s mother for the sake of his own amusement/convenience. Vlad literally sees almost every single one of the rivals he created begin to heal/improve and murders them in cold blood because they are no longer of any use to him. That’s uh……..that’s a little messed, not gonna lie to you chief.

While part of me understands the efficiency here–he doesn’t want to leave any traces of his involvement, he doesn’t want any loose ends–it’s also just kind of foolish and cruel ultimately. From my understanding of the narrative, all the people he turned had some visible sign that indicated their origin to Comte. So even if he claims it was for the sake of concealment, it was more likely about his personal convenience. Which…..also yikes.

[Comte clearly does not trust Vlad to be reasonable, and I think there’s plenty of good reason enumerated above, but I actually don’t sense quite so much hatred? I think he’s just given up on the idea of Vlad growing up, even if he doesn’t like giving up on people. And considering Vlad’s behavior, I think it’s overkill to say that Comte just abandons him because he doesn’t care lmao. Even when Comte expresses real anger at the end of his own route, it was more because Vlad was fine with endangering MC’s life just to get back at him. I think Comte’s unhappiness with Vlad has more to do with Vlad’s treatment of human life as meaningless and worthless. It’s fascinating but also kind of sad? Vlad’s traumatic experience results in behavior that is a direct exacerbation of Comte’s trauma, and as such--no matter their potentially fond history--they can’t stomach each other.]

In Comte’s route, Vlad also has Shakespeare abduct MC and take her to the cathedral. Later on in the castle, we see an immediate display of Vlad’s shocking powers: he has the ability to manipulate people’s desires/thoughts. I’m not exactly sure how this works, but he is able to give MC visions of the mansion and Comte coming on to her–which shocks her into realizing it’s all just a dream. It’s not reality; it’s all manufactured by Vlad.

After that...weird introductory note...Vlad gives MC the rundown on his life together with Comte, which as always is subject to a question of bias. My assumption is that he did not lie, only because he was trying to convince MC that he was “right.” Furthermore, he does not omit the most damning evidence of his erroneous judgement, which suggests a continued inability for him to see where he went wrong.

We get a series of three flashbacks. The first is them as young kids. I don’t know if Vlad had already experienced the horrors of his family being destroyed, but this particular flashback focuses on Comte. His parents, in an effort to teach him that vampires and humans have no ability to co-exist, send away all of his teachers/mentors/nannies/the servants--pretty much everyone and anyone he was closely bonded to. Think about it this way: we can see that Comte is very sociable and affectionate by nature. He was living in a house full of people, all of whom cared about him and looked after him in their own way. Now the house is entirely empty. Naturally Comte is very very upset, and Vlad appears to try to cheer him up with little success. 

[When I look back on this scene I don’t think I initially registered the sheer dissonance of Vlad’s reaction, versus Comte’s catatonic misery. There was a very solemn feeling to that memory, and the correct choice in terms of extending comfort is to hold his hand believe it or not. There is a sense that he feels very alone. When young boy Vlad enters one can argue that it was the proper thing to do; he was trying to cheer up his playmate and friend. But at the same time, I think I need to double check. Because I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong. What if Vlad was happy to see someone as alone as him, and that joy is accordingly dissonant for that reason? He can’t see what Comte needs or how he’s hurting because he’s so glad he isn’t alone anymore in a way.]

The second flashback is the war nurse scene that I have spoken at length about. The important thing to focus on here is Vlad’s surprise that Comte would opt out of turning her out of respect for her wishes. The way Vlad frames the situation is starkly different from Comte’s. Comte sees himself as an outsider, somebody who invaded her life as a result of the timespace door and therefore has no right to suddenly change the course of her fate. He had no idea if she even wanted to live (considering the horrors she’d have to cope with and remember) or leave that time period at all, for that matter (considering the only thing keeping her going was helping the wounded/victims). Comte really was listening to everything she had to say, and he was taking her concerns and motivations seriously. 

Vlad simply says: if you want her, take her. It’s as simple as that for him. And in one way that’s not entirely wrong--assuming Comte would have every intention of looking after her and actually cares a lot about her. But what’s being ignored here is her agency and the fact that they really don’t know each other that well? Something like that could begin and be rocky, if it doesn’t end in complete disaster. Worse, I get the feeling Vlad is perfectly fine with the notion of turning her and if things don’t work out, just kill her or get rid of her. Again, the simplistic thinking comes into play here: it ultimately comes down to Vlad being self-centered. He’s thinking only in terms of satisfying his needs, he doesn’t seem to have any concept of a larger pair or group feeling. There’s an inability to bend/be flexible for the sake of maintaining a greater harmonious feeling. 

[For the record, I don’t think this makes him irredeemable? Only that it makes it very hard to live with him or love him, probably. There’s an inability to live at a joint pace? It’s always answering to what he wants without room for anything else most of the time, which to me is not living and it’s not love ;;;;]

Following their escape back to their own time, Vlad explains how he wants to use the door to turn geniuses and control humanity. He eventually wants to create a surveillance state, which would mean everyone is forced to move with his explicit approval, more or less. (He almost reminds me of Louis XIV, can’t tell if that’s what they were going for.) I have my doubts that his abilities could extend that far, but human history shows us that we are plenty susceptible to fascist and totalitarian rhetoric. In a shocking display of anger, Comte draws the line at controlling humanity and forcing them into a regime in which, and this is Vlad’s description not mine, “we (purebloods) would be like kings.” There’s definitely a concept of evolutionary superiority at play here, which echoes what I mentioned earlier; vampires seem to have this awareness that they’re apex predators in a sense, and enjoy the power that comes with that. Unfortunately, that probably makes for a fairly toxic/uncomfortable larger species culture, which is exactly what Comte and Leo hate lmao.

Vlad does not seem to find any issue with this sort of outlook, and asks MC to decide which of them--Vlad or Comte--is right. Who is more realistic, who best understands the future? As expected the MC replies that it's Comte, and Vlad goes from beseeching to big mad at record speed. He's p much that gif of the teddy bear that smacks its head down on the tables and then has the angry eyebrows.

This is where Comte intervenes, firing a warning shot that grazes Vlad's cheek and demanding he let MC go. In response, Vlad shoves MC into the turbulent timespace door--p much guaranteeing MC's death. (Essentially timespace is a void of sorts, a human being could never survive in that environment for long. Vlad fully knew this, and yeeted her anyway.)

So uh, yeah. Disagreement? Death. Moving on? Death. Nuanced approach to reality? Death. Beginning to think he doesn't really have a lot of patience or open-mindedness or any other kind of problem-solving approach. 

He raises flowers and gardens like a fiend, and he openly plucks any single flower with a blemished leaf. Even if a single petal is slightly damaged, it will be removed and destroyed. So one could argue his extremism reflects a kind of perfectionism as well. No room for errors or troublesome dissent. No ugliness of any kind. I mean in all of his interactions with Faust and Charles this is the overt undertone. Don't ask more of me than I'm willing to give. Behave like good children, mommy's busy. Is that insubordination? boss music begins

One thing I actually don't understand very well is his decision making in Dazai's route. Dazai finds out about what Vlad's doing in a nanosecond when he senses MC is in danger, and yet Vlad makes absolutely no move to eliminate Dazai? He just watches from the shadows. Even when Dazai grills Charles about his loyalty to Vlad, no retribution.

My best guess for this specific situation is that Vlad does derive some level of satisfaction thwarting the future of human beings/former humans. Dazai--being somebody with no great desire to live, no rivals to speak of as far as we can tell, and no larger aspirations--is a life that is easily extinguished. There's no satisfaction in it. When Vlad's clan was murdered and he saw the future decimated, it could be that he felt humans had invaded and eradicated every potentiality that was important to him. Where he might have lived happily with his family, that future was ripped from his grasp. Where he might enjoy his flowers and the creation of an immortal for the rest of conceivable time, that too was ripped from his grasp with a desolate future. 

So much about who Vlad is is about control, so it's very possible his lashing out is an extension of that. Dazai does not awaken any of the disdain he feels, and he does not succeed in overthrowing Vlad's control over Charles, so Vlad simply lurks in silence.

And last but not least, I've seen the preview to Vlad's newest birthday event story. The contents are incredibly revealing, in that MC wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a gift has him saying that it was "the best birthday ever." Granted idk if that’s sweet or just...beyond sad, but here we are. It’s only compounding my curiosity about the wound on his chest--I really do wonder if he was attacked and locked away by vampire hunters or hostile human beings or something. I say that only because that line speaks to a lot of isolation, and given how little he seems to care about turning people/subjecting them to his whims it feels odd. Why the isolation or lack of people who care about him? Is it a perceived lack where his actions alienated all the people who wanted to be close to him, or is it a more involuntary lack?

When she says let’s celebrate again next year, he seems a pleasantly shocked by the notion, and remarks “Ah yes, it’s a promise c:”. The preview was also mega horny: “You make me feel so loved, I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight. If you enjoy it so much, then I won’t stop. I want to see you completely lost for me. I’ll teach your body what it means to be loved by a pureblood.” Aaaaaand pretty sure the CG was alluding to him licking the good stuff from her basement, though not entirely sure given it was only the preview. 

The brief POV they give us is also very revealing:

“You always keep your promises, and I think I underestimate all the time how much you saved me. You are good, only you are good in this world.”

“Will we continue to make promises to each other in the future? Well in that case--you will always, always be mine, my vampire.”

Tbh he’s...v sweet? In his own way? Honestly he feels like a crabapple that is just so sick of the world and wants softe wife to take comfort in. While granted that’s not really my thing, I know a fanbase appeal exists for these types--so if that’s your thing, have at it!

So now that we have reached the end of my ridiculously long analysis (when am I ever brief, I’m so sorry. If you made it all the way here you deserve a cookie at the very least, if not the right to chase me with a bat) perhaps it’s more clear why I said discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha? “My clan is gone, every other second I’m going to be in retraumatization insanity, when I’m not I’ll be seeking power/hobbies, planning the demise of people who wanted the best for me, building a team to my advantage and unquestioned control, and eventually settling for a lifelong love who sees the best in me despite my more difficult moments and perceived hollowing loneliness. Not the most ideal comparison, but I will say if Vlad was not already named the historical figure, would have pointed and yelled Uchiha.

That’s all from me folks, hopefully this was a fun way to get introduced to him? And again, hope I didn’t alienate--I fully respect what people do and don’t enjoy o7

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp meta #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp dazai #i hope this was helpful! #i had too much fun writing it jkahlgkjhgdf i love meta #but thank you for submitting <33333 #oh discount vampire sasuke uchiha we really in it now #rambles #not incorrect quotes

[dragonheartftherpays]

Twi’lek Skin Color Genetics

Hello naughty children, a few weeks ago I spent five hours or so hashing out how Twi’lek skin color works genetically, and now I’m here to make that everyone’s problem. This is going to be a very long post, so I do apologize for that, feel free to hit J on desktop to skip. But it’s interesting, and it’s actually worked for every canon Twi’lek family I’ve tried it for so far (not that there are many to try), so here we go!

And yes, I made APA citations for this. Because I’m a nerd.

How Does Twi’lek Skin Pigmentation Work, Anyway?

Because it’s not as simple as humans. After all, Twi’leks come in a huge range of colors. The first challenge I had to deal with was figuring out how exactly Twi’lek skin coloration works in terms of pigmentation, before I could even start to figure out the genetics behind that.

See, in Earth mammals, most if not all pigmentation comes from melanin. Melanin comes in two forms, eumelanin (black/dark brown) and pheomelanin (reddish), and between the two of them in various concentrations melanin can produce colors ranging between black, brown, gray, red, yellow, and tan (Douma 2008).

Problem: Twi’leks, obviously, come in a lot more colors than that. See, mammals don’t generally produce blue or green pigments. However, you know what does produce green and blue colors? Reptiles and amphibians.

(No, I’m not suggesting Twi’leks are reptiles or amphibians, put that pitchfork down. They can hybridize with Humans, I think it’s pretty solidly canon that they’re mammals.)

So how do reptiles and amphibians produce blue and green colors? Well, instead of their coloration being based solely on melanin like us, many reptiles and amphibians have cells called chromatophores, cells containing certain types of pigments. Chromatophores generally come in three layers, from top to bottom: xanthophores, which contain yellow pigments called pteridines, iridophores, which don’t contain a true pigment but instead contain platelets which reflect mostly bluish light through physical structure and thus act as a blue “pigment,” and melanophores, which produce melanin. The topmost layer can also contain erythrophores, which contain reddish-orange/orange pigments called carotenoids (aka the reason you’re always told that if you eat enough carrots you can turn orange). Between differing amounts of each of these cells and their respective pigments, the three layers of chromatophores can produce a wide array of colors (Douma 2008).

Wide enough to cover all known wild type (naturally occurring, without mutation or intentional genetic manipulation via breeding) Twi’lek skin colors? Let’s find out.

Thanks to Wookieepedia, we do have a list of canon colors Twi’leks can come in, although I take issue with some of them (Twi’lek 2020).

Known wild-type colors: blue, green, tan/pale, orange, pink, purple, teal, yellow Known mutations: Albinism, leucism, red (erythrism?), vitiligo

Cosdra seems to have vitiligo, but it might be paint - it’s hard to tell (Cosdra 2019). Technically, since pink/red eyes do exist as a wild type in Twi’leks, it’s possible Bib Fortuna isn’t actually albino and just happens to have white skin and red eyes, but given how rare white skin seems to be and how he’s portrayed, I’m assuming him to be albino (Bib Fortuna 2020). Leucism, partial loss of pigmentation that most often results in white skin/hair/fur and dark eyes, is also a guess, technically speaking. We see what appears to be leucism in Lyn Me, with “true white” skin and dark eyes, but it’s not confirmed officially; however, due to how rare white skin seems to be, I am comfortable assuming Lyn Me to be an example of a leucistic Twi’lek (if she isn’t, she may instead be an EnEnii genotype with very little melanin production, as discussed later) (Lyn Me 2020).

Wookieepedia claims Twi’leks can have black skin, but it doesn’t have a citation, and I took the time to click through the entire list of canon Twi’lek characters and didn’t find a single black-skinned Twi’lek (”true black,” not dark-skinned). If a Legends character exists with “true black” skin, I feel comfortable assuming that to be an example of a melanism mutation or something similar, rather than a wild type color morph, due to its rarity.

Red being labeled a mutation is interesting, and I believe it’s technically Legends instead of strictly canon material, but I also didn’t find any counterexamples in canon, which leads me to believe it may as well be considered canon (Lethan 2020). I’ll talk more about the “true red” color mutation later in this post.

For now, we have a list of wild type skin colors. Can chromatophores, with variation between the various pigment cells, account for all the different colors Twi’lek skin can take on?

The answer is yes.

I didn’t take the time to chart out a hypothetical melanophore variation chart, since in most phenotypes how much of each type of melanin is present merely affects the saturation and brightness of the dominant color. Anyway, I imagine melanophore genetics would be more similar to human skin color genetics to begin with.

But Dragon, I hear you ask, I don’t see teal on this chart! Patience. We’re getting there. Because in order to talk about teal skin color, we have to talk about the actual genetics - teal comes from two incompletely dominant alleles being expressed together, rather than being a trait with its own allele.

So let’s get into the genetics, then!

The Genetics Behind It All

I’m going to put the Punnett square hell I went through beneath a cut at the bottom of this post for anyone who’s interested in seeing my evidence for this conclusion, and for everyone else I’m just going to put my conclusions.

I’ve assigned each allele an abbreviation, although they don’t display properly on Tumblr because I don’t know how to do subscript and superscript or if Tumblr supports that in the first place:

Ex: Xanthophores (yellow pigment) present. Ee: Erythrophores (reddish-orange/orange pigment) present. En: Neither xanthophores nor erythrophores present/both nonfunctional.

I: Iridophores (blue “pigment”) present. i: Iridophores not present/nonfunctional.

For the purposes of figuring out this system, I actually used a hybrid family, the Lawquanes.

Wait, hold on, why a hybrid family? Well, first off because they’re the ones who started all this, because someone pointed out how the hell did a pink mom and Human dad end up with a teal-and-tan child and an orangey-tan child? So I wanted to answer that question in a way that also fit any other canon Twi’lek families.

However, using this family had another advantage, as I quickly realized: because Cut Lawquane, the father of the children, is Human, we know his genotype for the purposes of the relevant first two layers of chromatophores: he doesn’t have them. He’s homozygous for both non-expression traits: EnEnii. That simplified figuring out the genotypes of the children and his wife a ton - in fact, I’m not sure it would have been possible to extrapolate those answers, if not for the fact that we know his genotype for these traits 100% for certain.

So without putting you through the whole process, this is what I came to:

Suu Lawquane (mother): EeExIi (pink phenotype) Cut Lawquane (father): EnEnii (tan/melanin-only phenotype) Shaeeah Lawquane (daughter): ExEnIi (teal phenotype*) Jek Lawquane (son): EeEnii (orange/tan phenotype**)

* I’m not dealing with the patching Shaeeah has going on because I’m assuming that’s an effect of hybridization on her phenotype, since we haven’t seen markings like that on any canon full-blood Twi’leks. I’m assuming teal to be her “base” phenotype as far as Twi’lek genes go, since teal obviously isn’t a color we see in Humans. ** I’m genuinely not sure whether to call that skin color orange or tan, nor do I know whether Ee or En is dominant or if they even have a simple dominance relationship - more on that in a moment - so I’m leaving that be. The point stands.

So these are the rules of dominance we end up with:

1. I (iridophores present) is dominant over i (no iridophores present/functional). Evidence: Suu Lawquane must be heterozygous Ii in order to have produced both a teal (I phenotype) and tan/orange (i phenotype) child with her homozygous ii husband. Furthermore, Shaeeah would be yellowish-tan if i were dominant over I, since she must be heterozygous due to having a homozygous ii father and yet displaying the I trait as her phenotype.

2. Ex and En are incompletely dominant with each other. Evidence: this is how you get teal children, a mix between blue (EnEn) and green (ExEx). An EeEx x EnEn pairing is capable of producing an ExEn child (Shaeeah), which tracks with this logic.

3. Ee (erythrophores present) is dominant over Ex (xanthophores present). Evidence: Suu Lawquane must be heterozygous EeEx in order to have produced both a teal (ExEn phenotype) and an orange/tan (Ee and/or En phenotype) child with an EnEn husband while still displaying the Ee phenotype (pink) herself. Since she displays a strong Ee phenotype and must also have an Ex allele, the Ee allele must therefore be dominant over the Ex allele.

These rules can be applied to other Twi’lek families, as well - for instance, the Syndullas (not counting Jacen Syndulla, both because he wouldn’t be an interesting addition due to his Twi’lek influence being Also A Green Phenotype and because I will never forgive Rebels for that horrible boring hybrid design) work out to:

Cham Syndulla: EeExii (orange phenotype) Tislera Syndulla: ExExIi or ExExII (green phenotype, not enough data to prove conclusively whether she’s heterozygous Ii or homozygous II) Hera Syndulla: ExExIi (green phenotype)

Because En and Ex are incompletely dominant, neither Tislera nor Hera can be ExEn, and they must be homozygous ExEx because Ee is dominant over Ex. Because Ee is dominant over Ex and his daughter must be homozygous Ex, Cham must therefore be EeEx, showing the Ee phenotype but carrying the recessive Ex allele which he passed on to his daughter.

There is one small problem: We still don’t know for sure the relationship between Ee and En. I just don’t have enough data to figure it out. I went through the entire list of canon Twi’lek characters on Wookieepedia and didn’t find a single family with the right color combinations and enough data to figure it out. I even went through some Clone Wars crowd shots in hopes of finding some, only to discover that apparently the Clone Wars series doesn’t really use child models in their crowd shots, only adults. Maybe someday I’ll go through the entire list of Legends Twi’lek characters in hopes of finding a family with the right genetics to solidify my guesses, but for now, all I have to go on is how common various phenotypes are. Which isn’t perfect, because how common a trait is doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with whether it’s dominant or recessive if it’s an advantageous trait, but it’s all we have. My current hypothesis is that En is dominant over Ee, because blue and tan are both more common phenotypes than purple and orange, but that wouldn’t hold up to the standards of biology by any stretch of the imagination. I simply don’t have enough data to give you a better answer, unfortunately. Maybe some of the new media coming out, like the High Republic series, will give me that - I don’t know. They might not even have a simple dominance relationship; they might be incompletely dominant with each other like Ex and En are, producing bluish-purple, though I find this unlikely given the phenotypes we’ve seen in Star Wars media thus far.

So Why is Red Skin a Mutation?

It’s an oddly specific thing to be labeled a mutation, because you’d think it would just be a variation of the Ee-i phenotype, which normally produces orange or reddish-orange. In order for this to make sense, we have to assume one of two scenarios:

a) Erythrophores in Twi’leks are typically more orange than red, or b) The melanin produced in orange Twi’leks (the Ee-i phenotype) prevents a “true red” from showing as the final skin tone.

In the first option:

1) True red is produced by an erythrophore mutation that causes the carotenoids produced to be more red than normal.

In the second option:

2) True red is produced by a lack of melanin, leaving the final visual color completely dependent on the red/reddish-orange carotenoids rather than mellowing it to orange, or 3) True red is produced by a mutation in the melanophores that cause them to produce only a very red pheomelanin with no eumelanin to balance it out.

Alternatively to both of these:

4) True red is produced by a mutation in the xanthophores in a Twi’lek lacking iridophores (the Ex-i phenotype), causing them to produce a true red pigmentation rather than the yellow pteridines they would normally produce.

Even in Legends, as far as I could find, we don’t have any families of Lethan Twi’leks (Twi’leks with the true red mutation), so I have no evidence to support any of these possibilities (Lethan 2020). However, in any of these cases, the mutation would be rare, not only because the genetic mutation itself is rare, but also because it must occur simultaneously with a specific set of other conditions to produce the true red coloration: 1) and 2) must occur in conjunction with the Ee-i phenotype (and in the case of 1, presumably with melanin that’s light enough to not obscure the true red coloration), 3) must occur either with the Ee-i or En-i phenotype, and 4) must occur in conjunction with the Ex-i phenotype. Since I is dominant over i and seems to be the more common trait, that helps explain why the true red mutation(s) is/are so rare.

Bonus: Why Do Twi’leks Come In So Many Colors, Anyway?

(This section is entirely conjecture and headcanon on my part.)

Because, really, most species tend to consolidate until they’re almost identical color-wise, because the environment tends to select for a given color scheme. However, there are instances in which this is not the case. Personally, my headcanon explanation for this is that Twi’leks as a species tend to have a preference for the unique - if you’re the only person in a group with your skin color (or some other notable physical characteristic), you’re more likely to be found attractive than if you’re in a group of people with the same skin color (or other physical characteristic). This is a form of negative frequency-dependent selection, in which the fitness of a given trait or genotype decreases as it becomes more common (Frequency-Dependent Selection 2020). Negative frequency-dependent selection is itself a form of balancing selection, which serves to actively maintain multiple alleles in a population rather than selecting preferentially for one trait (Balancing Selection 2020).

(What’s the evolutionary advantage behind finding the unique attractive? Who knows. But the point is, it is feasible, and negative frequency-dependent selection is something we see out in the real world.)

In Conclusion

In conclusion, it turns out there actually is a system that works consistently to predict the genotypes and phenotypes of Twi’lek families, with the small exception of not having enough data to determine the dominance relationship in one out of the four allele pair relationships yet. If you know of a canon or Legends Twi’lek family, feel free to try to apply this! If it doesn’t seem to work, feel free to poke me about it, and I’ll see if I can make it work - if I can’t, I’ll have to take another look at the system. (Heck, apply it to your own OCs and see if it works, if you want - or use it to predict offspring traits of various pairings, if you like.) I learned a good bit about chromatophores and pigmentation in animal biology while doing this, and I hope you enjoyed the ride and maybe learned something too. Reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoyed yourself, found this interesting, or learned something! Thank you for reading! (And don’t forget, if you’re interested in reading about the process of how I figured all this out, the screenshots of that are below the cut!)

References

Bib Fortuna. (2020, April 4). In Wookieepedia: the Star Wars Wiki. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Bib_Fortuna.

Balancing Selection. (2020, April 18). In Wikipedia. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balancing_selection.

Cosdra. (2019, September 9). In Wookieepedia: the Star Wars Wiki. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Cosdra.

Douma, M., curator. (2008). Biological Pigments. In Cause of Color. Retrieved 30 March 2020 from http://www.webexhibits.org/causesofcolor/7I.html.

Frequency-Dependent Selection. (2020, April 15). In Wikipedia. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frequency-dependent_selection.

Lethan. (2020, April 13). In Wookieepedia: the Star Wars Wiki. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Lethan

Lyn Me. (2020, April 4). In Wookieepedia: the Star Wars Wiki. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Lyn_Me.

Twi'lek. (2020, April 20). In Wookieepedia: the Star Wars Wiki. Retrieved April 20, 2020, from https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Twi%27lek.

Bonus: The Process

Because y’all deserve to see my screaming in full. This was a five-hour process, do remember. Everything from hereonout has been just copy-pasted from the Discord server where I liveblogged the process of figuring this system out. Some things I said at various points were wrong, because that’s how the process works. Please note that I was also using different notation for the top-layer alleles at this point: E instead of Ee, X instead of Ex, and e instead of En. This did get confusing at one point because I forgot that it was X (Ex) and e (En) that had the more complicated dominance relationship and not E (Ee) and e (En), which was my fault.

#star wars #swtor #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #twi'lek #track this #this has been such a passion project for me y'all #this is not how i expected to use my biology degree but here we are #and i have actually really enjoyed myself i'm very proud of this #i kind of don't expect it to get more than a handful of notes but i wanted to put it out there anyway

[rivalsforlife]

thoughts on aai2?

oh no I don’t know if I’ll be able to think of anything mean to say because I love aai2 with all my heart, it makes me feel so much.

It really feels like a love letter to Miles Edgeworth’s character and really digs into him and his motivations and history and then centers an entire game around that. The central question of “should he be a defense attorney or stay as a prosecutor?” is one that’s probably been on a lot of people’s minds since the first game when he makes that comment to Phoenix, and even moreso after T&T where he pretends to be a defense attorney on Phoenix’s behalf. And aai2 not only comes up with an answer to that but also gives justification for that answer in a way that’s extremely heartwarming and absolutely fits Miles’ ideals of Truth And Justice, as well as showing how exactly he would NOT be fit to be a defense attorney (that one dialogue in the Imprisoned Turnabout where he’s talking about finding the truth of the case and then Kay jumps in and says “but Mr. Edgeworth, remember we’re not just doing this for the truth, we’re doing it to save Simon!” meanwhile Miles... completely forgot about that.)

I feel like anyone reading this should already know that I’m going to be getting into very spoilery territory with this and I will tag it accordingly, so I’m just gonna go for it: Simon Keyes. What a villain. Not only is he a surprise villain but one that you can sort of see coming, his motivations are sympathetic and he’s an excellent foil to Miles (which the game itself points out) plus he is so so so good at targeting everyone’s emotional weakness, which is like my favourite thing from a writing standpoint, when you get to see the villain talking and they make some comment and you shout “YEAH HE HAS A POINT” in the audience. The game tries to brush it over, but I hear you, Simon, and you’re so right. 

“You will focus on the truths most convenient to you to prove your argument?” That’s like basic human confirmation bias, but also something that the games tend to do a LOT, and Miles had done quite a bit of throughout the game. Kay’s found on the roof with all this evidence on her? It must be planted, there’s no way his dear little Kay could be a murderer. But once it turns against Simon, Miles isn’t as interested in saving him, he just needs to keep “turning things around” to fit his line of logic so far.

“You never really cared about saving me, you just wanted to pretend to be a defense attorney like your father?” Maybe Miles did care a bit about saving him, but it’s quite clear he’d completely abandon Simon and turn against him if it turned out the truth wasn’t on his side. Plus, he wanted to explore that history Gregory left him, the childhood dreams he’d been forced to abandon. But he has changed as a person, since then, and he can’t completely go back to the person he used to be, but he can still grow and escape the worst of himself, and take that trauma inflicted upon him and use it to fight against the corruption he was molded to perpetuate!! UGH it’s so good I am feeling things about Miles Edgeworth again.

The new characters are also excellent for developing his character. Ray is the connection to Gregory and as a result Miles’ childhood that Miles hasn’t had in such a long time, and is able to provide him with guidance on his past while challenging him on if he wants to pursue it. (Seriously, get rid of the creepy jokes and Ray would definitely be one of my favourite characters.) Justine is a parallel to AA1-Miles, still believing blindly in the system and thinking it will always dispense justice (just look at how the reveal that MvK forged evidence for a false verdict shakes her) -- she still has a strong sense of justice, but it’s restricted by her faith in the rule of law. Sebastian is like Bratworth, in a way, naïve and being used by a father-figure in order to enact their own agenda, and in the end, is forced to learn that person never had his best interests in heart and learn how to move on from that as a prosecutor, despite that person being the one who put them on the prosecutor’s path to begin with... pretty much figuring out how to reshape their destiny.

And the game doesn’t just focus on these characters, it focuses on all the bonds Miles has with these people, and also explores the various ways a parent-child bond can present itself (healthily, unhealthily, complicated or not so much, biological or adopted) and the influences of that on the children. From Miles+Greg to Sebastian+Blaise, even Franziska+MvK, Kate+Jeff, John+Justine, even Simon+Dogen vs Simon+Gustavia... the game spends so much time fleshing these out and their impacts on the people involved. It’s also just a game about human relationships in general. Miles learning how to express himself properly to say thanks, or say how much people mean to him. Miles showing actual respect for Gumshoe. Gumshoe finding his own reasons for being a detective that’s not just about helping Miles. Franziska learning how to move on from what her father did to decide her own path. Miles and Kay, I hope everyone knows how strongly I feel about Miles and Kay, that father-daughter type bond has a permanent place in my heart now. Kay, who is lost and clinging to this image of her father as a Great Thief and trying to follow in his footsteps to be a hero just like him, and then deciding in the end to make her own path in life. Sebastian feeling lost and alone and abandoned but finding the courage to stand up with the support of the people who care about him. Miles being a pillar of unwavering support for these two kids, who he can see so much of himself in, trying to set them on a better path in life. And I can’t forget Phoenix, who doesn’t ever appear and isn’t mentioned by name, but whose influence you can feel through all of Miles’ actions, as the man who saved him, who showed him the value of bonds between people, who, in essence, taught him how to love and be loved and open his heart to others again!

This game has so much love in it, it’s really about love -- platonic love, familial love, the absence of love and what affect that has on people like Simon, how love can save others from turning down darker paths, the extent that love can drive people to do ridiculous things to save those they care about, how love can change people for better or for worse, how it can be a vulnerability but also a strength. It has one of the things I really love about AA, this focus on bonds that aren’t romantic, because none of the major relationships focused on in the game are romantic but you can still feel so much love that all of these characters have for each other.

WOW this is going on a while I should probably stop. I have a lot of feelings about this game. I just wrote more instances of “love” than I ever think I have before. Um, in conclusion, I love this game? Like it has its flaws (pacing issues... all the jokes Ray makes...) but overall it’s probably the game that makes me feel the most, every single time I watch a playthrough or play it myself (totaling several times now) I just find more to love and it still always makes me feel things. I honestly don’t know if I can be objective about it haha. 

#aai2 #aai2 spoilers #long post #aa rants #? it's not negative at ALL this is like tonally the complete opposite of my others #I feel too much now agh I'm going to need to lie down to process these feelings #asks

[vegetarian-macan]

Macan’s Birthday 2021

As a lot of you know from following me or just watching me go completely off the rails, you’ll know that I’m very fond of Macan as a character. Unfortunately, he’s one of many characters that Lifewonders has introduced with an intriguing characterization that is shelved for the same joke over an over again. You know the one.

This post is going to be exploring that concept, and the ramifications it has on his character and how these beliefs affect him in his Date Quest. All information presented will be from his appearances that are lore-heavy, as well as some of my own inferences. Everything will be under the cut because this is going to be a little long.

And fair warning, I will be getting mentioning topics such as suicide and human trafficking as it is a part of his character, keep this in mind as you read.

First, let’s start with the lore that appears in his character quest (the first one, hoping for a second at some point), as that came first. The beginning starts with Macan speaking about how he woke up one day in a jungle with no memory besides the knowledge to find water, food and shelter, and the belief that if one consumes another, they will live on within you. He soon saw that he was a weretiger, with no recollection of how this transformation happened in the first place. In the scene in Chapter 3 where Macan and the MC are discussing himself, he brings up a theory of how this happened, saying that a tiger may have become human, or a human became a tiger. Either way, two beings were killed, and one was reborn from them.

He was unique in the world of Shangri-La, no one else was like him, as strong as him. He was unlike anything there, which made him truly and utterly alone. He hated what little time he spent as a weretiger in Shangri-La, being unable to speak to others as they were afraid of him, and with no one to talk to, he soon began to go mad. When the past Macan appears in his character quest, and the protagonist and the Macan from Tokyo have to fight him, he has a few lines of dialogue about how there’s no one around to answer his calls anymore, no one to listen to him. How he hates being alone.

After he is defeated, this past Macan cries about how he’s going to die alone, that he isn’t just another beast, he’s Someone. It is implied subtly in this scene that had he not been Summoned to Tokyo Macan would have either gone completely mad or committed suicide. Thankfully, this was avoided, although the result to being Summoned was less than ideal, which I will talk about later.

There is a scene in his character quest, right before Past Macan appears, that is explored in his date quest. While bathing in a lake together in the jungle, Macan brings up that with the protagonist there, being in Shangri-La is different. He’s more comfortable, he has someone to talk with now. He mentions that if he could, he’d want to go back to Shangri-La and live there forever with the MC, before stating that if he dies first, he’d want you to eat him.

As for his date quest, let’s set the scene with some lore provided in-game. It opens up with this: 

A world where the horizon is lost. This is the homeworld of Macan, Shangri-La. It is said that it is at the end of the mountain called Hourai "the end of Kunlun" and "behind Deva Loka". That is, it is "on the opposite side of the never-ending road" where people believe in "Reverse Reincarnation". In a world dominated by this faith, death does not mean the end of existence. They believed that even if the physical body was destroyed, the astral body and the spirit would continue living on in a separate state. They could continue living as long as the body, astral body and spirit were not all destroyed at the same time, which is the eternity that Shangri-La promised. 

Macan brings this fact up when he is introduced; those that he consume live on within him, and whoever shall consume him he will live on in them. This is the faith by which he lives his life. No living being is exempt from this rule in Shangri-La, which is most likely part of the reason that Macan has hangups over consuming animals like fish and livestock. They have no choice in how they die, and he cannot be comfortable eating them like that. 

As you may remember, Macan states, or rather implies, that he has eaten people that have lost in a duel against him before. He is completely comfortable with this aspect, seeing it as a natural result to things because, in his homeworld, it is. This is not shared by the residents of Tokyo and other worlds, however, with characters such as Suzuka and Nomad being put off by this. But there is a reason for why he fights the way he does.

Within Shangri-La there was a cycle that persisted up until the creation of the Macan we know, one that was completely broken by the actions of a single human. This cycle was the creation of the Weretiger King, and is explained in his Date Quest as follows:

The weretiger known as Macan Gadungan is also a believer of this faith [see above]. When a creature like him is created, a human is consumed by a beast. The human's spirit is then reborn in the body of this beast. The name of the magangadungan is known throughout Shangri-La as the king of the jungle where many monsters are said to roam. However, it is the opposite that is true. It is not the strongest magan becomes king, it is that the strongest king becomes a magan. Even the toughest bodies will eventually decay, and so even the strongest man will rise from his chair. But there was still a way in this world to make one's faith eternal. The way to accomplish this is to be eaten by a King and to become their flesh and blood. Even if one's body is consumed, as long as the rest lives on, so too will you. Therefore, it is the former king's fate to be eaten by a new king, and live on.* They will be reborn into a new body. The king of the jungle must then remain the best as well as fascinating target that everyone will want to eat. Until the day they too are consumed, no one can defeat them.

*(I’m aware of the contradiction here, but I will not know the correct translation of this section until it is translated officially)

Macan, or the human he once was, managed to stop this cycle, this loop, in its tracks by turning it on it’s head. The challenger is never supposed to defeat the King, and yet, he did. And so, every past King, every instance of this Weretiger King and the human Macan used to be were fused together, and became a new Weretiger King. One that hadn’t been seen before in that world. 

Soon after, he was Summoned to Tokyo, and sold on the black market run by Daikoku. His date quest explores as well, stating that his time as a prisoner was spent in a cage, shuffled between owners and trying to take pieces of him to use for medicine, leather, meat, anything they could take from him. And yet, he continued to live on, his immortality coming from the jungle of Shangri-La, and the former kings that now made up his existence.

He escaped by mauling one of his captors, and presumably picked up by Claude while he was on the run. Those captors of his wanted his flesh and blood, and it was something he would never give them willingly. 

The same cannot be said for the protagonist, or whoever he is paired with in his Date Quest.

During this quest, Macan’s beliefs are tested when he goes to finally consume the protagonist while they lay on the private beach, and he can’t go through with it. Even with his jaws around their throat, he cannot make the final push. Why?

You see, up until this point, Macan had lived by, essentially, the law of equivalent exchange. Give and take, in equal amounts. The bare minimum was given to him whenever someone interacted with him, and Macan gave the same back. So what happens when someone gives him more than that? What happens when he wants more than just the bare minimum? This part addresses that; his beliefs crumble under him.

Macan believes that he can’t ask for more than the bare minimum from others, their flesh and blood, because it would be going against the nature of the weretiger kings, to want nothing from others and also embracing your own personal desires to the fullest. This was what he learned in Shangri-La, the way to prove that he was alive and existed. It was simple, it was an easy world to live in with this belief. But it wasn’t enough for him, not when it came to the person he loved.

Macan wanted more from them; their flesh, blood, soul, everything. He wanted their time, their friendship, their love and adoration. But something deep in his being told him he didn’t deserve it, that they won’t reciprocate this need. The parts of himself, the human, the tiger, and the one that is neither and both, all want different things, and it confused him. Startled him. Scared him.

In the end, he realizes that if he were to kill and eat them, he would lose them. They would be apart of his existence from there on, but they wouldn’t be there. He would no longer be able to see them smile, sit with them on the beach, fight together with them. Which is a loss he couldn’t take, and was prepared to throw away his entire way of life to preserve that bliss. Were they to ask the same of him, he would give them everything he was without hesitation.

His date quest ends ambiguously, which is fitting. The player gets to decide how Macan and the one he has fallen for continue with their life. To follow one’s beliefs, or stop and reconsider when the price to pay is the one you love.

#macan #macan housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #i love character analysis but this one wrings me out

[shannendoherty-fans]

People, November 9, 1992

Nobody's Pussycat

By Tom Gliatto. Photos by Neal Preston.

Ever Outspoken, Shannen Doherty Defends Family Values, Her Turf on Beverly Hills, 90210—and Her Rowdy Reputation in Hollywood.

THERE ARE TWO ISSUES TO BE CLEARED UP HERE. Both of them are dear to the heart of Shannen Doherty, 21-year-old star of Fox's Beverly Hills, 90210, the Aaron Spelling high school hit that is now in its third season, one in which Doherty's character, Brenda Walsh—who might be described as Gidget with attitude—will break up with that lean-hipped rebel, Dylan (Luke Perry). First issue: Why has Doherty—alone among 90210 costars and teen idols Perry, Jason Priestley, Jennie Garth, Tori Spelling, Ian Ziering, Gabrielle Carteris and Brian Austin Green—come to be regarded as "difficult"? Like, is she, in contrast to the feisty but fairly civilized Brenda, one of those women who rhyme with rich? Is she, as the tabloids have gleefully reported, impossible on the set? Is she a prima donna? Also: After hours, does she party too much? And where was she being driven, in those recent tabloid photos, by rapper Marky Mark?

Second issue: What has become of the youngest of her dogs, a rottweiler named Jake? Doherty has arrived home, at her three-bedroom house in Beverly Hills, expecting to find golden retriever Sally gone (her dad was going to slop by to take her to the vet's), but now only black Lab Penelope is here to greet her. And why is there blood around the hack patio? Unnerved, Doherty phones her parents. No luck. She calls the vet. Gets the machine. Perhaps this is not the ideal moment for Doherty to sit down with a visitor and size up that delicate first issue. She chooses an armless chair in the living room and takes out a cigarette. She smiles, but it is not a happy smile, and her fingers shake as the match reaches the cigarette. "Yeah," she says, exhaling smoke with her sigh, "you've really caught me on a good day."

"People think I'm a bitch," she says with a shrug. "There was a group of four girls at Torrance High, when; we film the show, and they walked by and said, 'Oh, what a bitch!' You can walk away from that, but you really want to turn around and say, 'Why?' " She can give you a couple of whys, actually. "The tabloids make up stuff," she says. "Somebody will call [the tabs] up and say, They're yelling at each other on the [90210] set,' and they will turn around and make it 10 times worse," Doherty says. And maybe, she reasons, the tabloids pick on her. specifically, because "I'm a strong woman. There are still some people out there who can't deal with that."

Aaron Spelling, whose company produces 90210, describes her as "the best young actress I've seen in a long time," and has no problem with Doherty or her manner. "She is a very honest person who wears her emotions on her sleeve," he says. "If you ask her a direct question, she'll give you a direct answer." For instance, Doherty isn't afraid to tell friend, costar and daughter-of-the-boss Tori Spelling if she's wearing the wrong blouse. "Of all my friends, Shannen is the really honest one," says Tori, one of the few 90210ers who talked about her. Doherty's comments are "all meant in the best way," she adds. "But I can see [her reputation] hurts her feelings a bit." If so, Doherty is not about to expose her wounded heart in public. And why should she? Her image hasn't hurt her endorsement power (she does ads for Gitano jeans). "I'm not saying I don't have my moments of bitchiness," Doherty says, not defensively at all, "because everybody has them. But it's never for no reason. I think that life is short, you should live it and be happy. I've always been a ballsy kid," she adds. "I know it pisses some people off, but isn't the end result much better?"

In fact, Doherty, who won her first series role when she was 11 (she played Jenny Wilder on Little House: A New Beginning), thinks her "bitch" reputation started with 1989's cull black-comedy movie Heathers (in which she was one of the three nasty title teens). Doherty says she let a behind-the-cameras player on that film know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't approve of an extramarital affair he was conducting with an extra. "It was the first time I actually saw somebody take advantage of the extras," she says. "He knew I disliked him, and he was the first person to call me a bitch." In the past year, though, she also earned the enmity of prince of sarcasm Dennis Miller when she appeared on his short-lived talk show and embarrassed him by teasing him for not being at ease. (Her photo, tacked up backstage, was subsequently defaced with a devil's horn and goatee.) And would Peter Duchow, who produced her recent TV movie Obsessed, like to work with Doherty again? "How much are you going to pay me?" he asks. He notes that she was late to the set several times ("Professionals," he says, "make an absolute effort to be on time") but then clarifies: "Like a lot of talented people, she has mood swings. Hers are perhaps a lot more exaggerated than others. And any 21-year-old is difficult to work with. She has to learn some lessons that everybody has to learn." Then there was the headline-grabbing flap at this year's Emmys show. The day before the ceremony, Doherty dropped out of presenting an award with John Stamos of Full House and 90210 costar Jennie Garth. "She was a colossal pain in the ass," says Walter Miller, who produced and directed the program. There have been numerous explanations of that pain. Initially a spokesperson said that she was suffering from bronchitis. Miller, who refers to Doherty as "a barracuda," thinks she was unhappy that Garth was given the opening line of Emmy dialogue—even though Doherty would have announced the winning name. But Doherty says she was upset that the entire 90210 cast was not given tickets to the ceremonies. "I just said, "This is ridiculous, our cast can't go,' " she explains. " 'I just don't understand that.' " Doherty's manager, Mike Gursey, says he yanked her from the telecast because "tiny" promises about her role, including what category she would present in, went unfulfilled.

Having offended the gods of Hollywood, though, the young "barracuda" arrived in tears al a luncheon the day of the Emmys, reports Aaron Spelling, "afraid even one would be mad at her." If so, it was a rare display of public insecurity from a young woman who, says her father, Tom, 48, "has always been self-assured." Shannen was born in Memphis, the younger of two children (her brother, Sean, 25, is a USC law student) and, on her mother Rosa's side, the latest in a long line of Southern Baptists. Shannen's conservative upbringing may have something to do with her public displeasure over 90210's Brenda's losing her virginity last year ("We have a whole cast that is sexually active," she complained in one interview); her disgust with that unnamed. womanizing Heathers crew member; and her August appearance at that feast of family values, the Republican National Convention, at which she led the Pledge of Allegiance. ("I don't think Clinton would be any different than Bush," says Doherty, a Jack Kemp supporter, "except maybe he'd do a hell of a lot worse.") Growing up in the male-dominated South, though, had its drawbacks. "I saw how women were treated," she says, "and I wasn't going to be treated like that." In fact, she seems to have a Scarlett O'Hara, I'll-never-go-hungry-again tenacity, developed after her family moved to the comfortable Palos Verdes neighborhood of Los Angeles when she was 6. Her father had bought a trucking firm, but within a few years the business collapsed. "Shannen has seen both sides of the coin," says her dad, now a mortgage consultant. "We lived in a prestigious area, with an ocean view. Then we had the rug pulled out from under us. There was a time when the doorbell would ring and it might be the utility man there to cut off the power." The experience seared Doherty. "People think, 'She's sitting up there in a nice house and has money,' " Shannen says of herself, suddenly irritated. "Somebody said that to me last night, and I got really pissed off. My parents went from having money to having nothing, to eating rice every single day."

As Tom Doherty's company was sinking, his daughter was getting into another business—acting. Initially, Shannen tagged along when Sean tried out for a church production. In short order, she went on to play Sneezy the dwarf in Snow White, also at church ("I hammed it up"), and by age 10 she was doing commercials for Pepsi. Her big break came in 1982, when she did a voice for the animated feature The Secret of NIMH. Then Michael Landon hired her for Little House. "That show changed my life," says Doherty. "Michael Landon was the one who said to me, 'Always slick up for yourself. Never let anybody walk all over you. Be a strong woman.' " The principal of the Baptist school she attended after her stint on Little House paid the price for Landon's advice. "I hated that school," says Doherty, her voice turning sharp again. "It was very repressed. They thought that dancing was evil, and I disagreed. I organized a big dance, and the principal called me in. He wasn't pleased. He had his Bible out there on his desk and told me how God would punish me. I flipped through his Bible and found references to people dancing and rejoicing. I said to him, 'It clearly shows they danced and rejoiced. Just what the f—is wrong with you?' " Her father had reservations about Shannen and show business, but he supported her in her fight at the school, which she left alter a year. She finished her studies at the Lycée Français, a private school in L.A. (by then, the family was back on its feet financially). "Shannen believed in something," says her dad, who didn't know beforehand about the prohibition on happy feet. "She did nothing wrong." The family was less approving when she left home at 18 and moved in with a 31-year-old boyfriend (who had told her he was 28). "I wanted so much to be on my own," she says now. "I wanted to prove I could do things myself". But the boy friend turned out to be involved with drugs. "And I tried drugs and drinking," says Doherty softly. "I was drinking up a storm. Cocaine was something that I tried and didn't really like. It was more the lifestyle I was into. Every single night I was out clubbing and drinking. It was a bad scene." This went on, she estimates, for six months and ended—with a shock—the night her boy-friend struck her. "I just remember one slap across the lace." she says, "and I was out of there." She went across the street to a convenience store, phoned her parents and went home. She has since bought and moved into her own place, but remains close lo her parents. She was there for her father in 1983 and again in 1990 when he suffered strokes (his right side is now slightly paralyzed). "She has done the single most important thing lo help my recovery," he says. "She makes me laugh." It was in 1986. while playing Kris Witherspoon on her second NBC series, Our House, that Doherty first caught the attention of an influential member of the viewing audience named Tori Spelling. Tori also liked Doherty in Heathers and recommended her to her father. Doherty got the 90210 job on a Wednesday, started work on a Monday, and now she's so famous she needs a dog to protect her when she goes jogging.

(The dogs! What about those dogs? Every time the phone rings, Doherty hops up and runs off to answer, only to return with a look of dejection—no news.) Doherty doesn't deny that she may have earned her reputation for being tough in the early days of 90210. "I always stood up for the right causes, but I don't think I was always diplomatic," she says. "But recently I have learned lo be diplomatic." That hasn't prevented the occasional on-set misunderstanding—like the time recently when the day's shoot ran past midnight and Doherty announced (with the producers' permission, she says) that it was time to go home. She suspects Jennie Garth may have resented that show of authority. "I don't think Jennie was very happy," she says. At any rate, she adds, their friendship has suffered—and the Emmy business didn't help. "There's some weird tension there," she says. "We haven't really talked about what happened. But Jennie is a great girl, and this is something that can be worked on." There are no complaints from Jason Priestley, who plays Doherty's brother, Brandon. "All of the stories about Shannen are so blown out of proportion," he says. "She's a very intelligent young woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. I really enjoy working with her. We have a good relationship on-and offscreen."

For the past year, Doherty's primary offscreen relationship has been with Chris Foufas, 25, a Chicago-based real estate manager. They met through a friend of Foufas's (in fact, she was dating the friend at the time). They announced their engagement earlier this year, but now it has been called off. "He is a wonderful man whom I love very much," says Doherty, "but I'm 21, and it's not exactly the right time to gel married. Friendship has taken over the romance.' " Marriage hasn't been completely ruled out, she says. And "if he goes out with another girl, it's [only] because he's bored." Now as to the famous night on the town with Marky Mark. Doherty maintains that they were not on a date—it was just a friendly foursome that included 90210 costars Green and Spelling. Someday, Doherty may have her own rock-and-roll groupies to distract her. A big fan of U2, Guns N' Roses and Pearl Jam (she would love to meet lead singer Eddie Vedder), she enjoys toying with the idea of having her own band. The basic career plan, of course, is to land some movie roles alter 90210, but Doherty says, "I gel into these modes of sitting in my house writing poetry that could be converted into songs."

She pauses to light another cigarette and inhales, turning her head toward the sound of a car door slamming and the scuttle of approaching paws. Sally comes bounding in, and Tom Doherty enters carrying Jake, the dog's back paws wrapped in bandages. Shannen's father explains that when he arrived to take Sally to the vet, he found Jake in the pool. The pup had fallen in and was frantically clawing the pool trying to get out. "He looks so funny," Shannen says. "I'm so relieved!" She pats him on the head, and he regards her contentedly. You will never hear a bad word from Jake about Shannen Doherty.

*** 💜♀️International Women's Day♀️💜

#Shannen Doherty #Article #People magazine #People 1992 #1992 article #1992 magazine #1992 #1992 magazine cover #People November 9 1992 #1992 Quotes #Neal Preston #1992 Neal Preston #International Women's Day #Tom Doherty #Beverly Hills 90210 #Aaron Spelling #Michael Landon #Chris Foufas #Tori Spelling #Jason Priestley #Jennie Garth

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

Goddamn it Kyra I wasn't even interested in the Lego Lokis before, but now that you've so rudely posted pics of the options I'm probably going to have to buy some. So, couple questions: I'm not familiar with the website you linked to (it doesn't help that I'm on my phone lol) - do you get them from that site or just Aliexpress? I've kind of poked around there but I don't think I've ever actually bought anything - do you have links to those ones you bought or any tips for finding them on the site? (or like. using the site in general without getting scammed or something? Idk much about it other than stuff being low priced lol).

😇😇😇

putting the rest behind a cut because oops this got long

OKAY SO the cool thing about knockoff Lego figures is that a) there are a ton of them, so you can probably find multiple versions of most characters, and b) they're super cheap, so if you do end up getting ripped off, you're probably only out a few bucks. plus if you don't get ripped off, you feel like a genius, because authentic Lego minifigs tend to cost way more than they should (and if you get them online, you probably don't have a good way to know that they're authentic) and here you are getting something just as good or better for way less.

the site I was getting pictures from is HeroBloks, which I only just discovered myself a couple days ago; it looks like mostly it's good for tracking your collection (and learning more about bootleg Lego minifigs in general, maybe--I didn't really realize until now how many different companies there are making Lego-like minifigs) rather than buying, with individual pages including sale links that are only mildly useful. like, the extremely sad TVA Loki has an AliExpress search link that apparently just searches for "blocks," which is the least helpful search term imaginable; the eBay link uses "xinh+xh1745+loki (tva)" as the search term and that's definitely better, although it doesn't actually turn up anything. maybe that one's too new to be widely available yet, I don't know. (I hope that's the case. I need him and his sad little face to come and live with me.)

anyway--eBay is a possible source. searching for "loki minifigure" gets me results for several of the new ones I’ve been seeing, and they all seem to be shipping from Japan or South Korea. the problem is they're all selling for $4.99 plus $7.49 shipping each, which is...more than I want to spend on something I know is a knockoff of some kind when I don't know anything about the quality control and I'm not guaranteed to get what's in the picture. (here's another listing asking $40 total for all 8 figures I bought yesterday, which is actually a better price, and I'd probably end up doing that if I hadn't found them elsewhere, but that's because I have a problem.)

this is why I like AliExpress, because the risks are slightly higher but the prices tend to be much lower, even with shipping prices having gone up a bit over the last couple years. as I understand it, the site is basically just a huge marketplace for tons of different sellers in Asia, like if eBay only allowed fixed-price listings and it was based in China. the vast majority of the site reads like it went through Google Translate, because it probably did. you can find...basically anything there. I have no idea if any of it's authentic. (I also don't know anything about how or where any of the knockoff stuff is made, so...there is that.) I would not, for instance, drop $300 on a Hot Toys Loki from here, even though I absolutely would have the option to do so, for the obvious reason that I'm not going to risk that much money on an item that might be a cheap knockoff or could arrive broken. there is, in general, a solid possibility of breakable things arriving broken, because decent packaging costs more. cheap shipping will be slow (by which I mean like...up to 90 days), and most purchases either won't have tracking at all or won't have accurate tracking, so this is absolutely not a place to buy anything you want to get quickly. you also don't want to just buy something and forget about it, because there are (variable but generous) time limits past which you can't get a refund if you don't receive your items. the site's UI is...mostly functional. you often have to get a little creative with your search terms to find what you want (and sometimes you won’t find what you want through searching, but through looking at related items on the pages of things that aren’t quite what you want or are what you want but aren’t a good price). you will, absolutely, come across a lot of stolen art on things like pins, t-shirts, stickers, and phone cases, which you might not realize until you see something you recognize from a fanartist you like, and obviously that sucks. listing photos are nearly always stock photos, so in many cases they won't tell you anything about the item you're actually getting. you know the Wish app, and all the crazy things people get from that? you can find all the same stuff on AliExpress, at similar levels of quality.

however, if you approach it keeping all that in mind, it can be a great resource. I can't make any guarantees about the site's safety, but to the best of my knowledge it's secure and I've never had any weird charges show up after buying something. it's also my understanding that Alibaba, the parent company, is more or less the Chinese equivalent of Amazon in terms of the amount of business it does, which would probably be pretty tough if customer data were routinely being exposed to thieves, you know? I've also successfully gotten several refunds for items that never arrived, which actually hasn't happened all that often--but knowing that it can happen and that the return period expires, I’ll check back on the site if it seems like it’s been an unusually long time and I’ll make a reminder for myself of the deadline so I can contact the seller in time if necessary.

so the way I shop there is, I don't buy expensive or fragile things in general, because I recognize there's a nonzero chance I'll get a cheap knockoff, or something that was broken in transit because the seller tossed it in a box with no padding and called it good, or sometimes nothing at all. but like eBay, the sellers and items have ratings and reviews from customers, so that helps avoid some risk. items with lots of reviews tend to include at least a few customer photos, which are great for getting a better idea of what the thing you're buying actually looks like. I took a bit of a risk last year buying a Hot Toys (or the equivalent, I actually have no idea) Steve Rogers head for about $20, for instance, but I wasn't super worried about it because the customer photos looked good, the seller I used had a lot of sales and a lot of good ratings, and it was still a lot less than I would've paid for an authentic Hot Toys Steve Rogers head--and in fact he got here just fine and he looked fantastic. I also spent about $20 for a knockoff Iron Studios Loki statue, because in that case it was like...yep I’d love the real thing, nope I’m not willing to spend hundreds of dollars on it, yep I am willing to spend $20 on something that doesn’t look quite as nice but still looks good enough for me in the customer photos. well, and I’ve also bought knockoffs I knew would look bad, because they were cheap and I want all the Lokis and I have enough of an addiction that all the Lokis does in fact sometimes mean “even ones that look really bad” to me.

anyway, uh, Lego-type minifigs. this is an especially good area to go knockoff, because--okay, apparently I can’t link to a page of HeroBloks search results for some reason, but it’s the best resource I’ve found for this type of thing that isn’t just authentic Lego figures. but if you go there and do a search for “loki” you’ll get a bunch of results and you’ll see that they come from like...9 or 10 different brands. Lego specifically has only four Loki options: Avengers Loki in black, Avengers Loki in gray for some reason (which, frankly, looks like a cheap knockoff but isn’t), movie-inaccurate Ragnarok Loki with the blue outfit and the full helmet, an ugly Classic Loki, and a mostly green Loki from I guess the first Thor movie (and then I think they’re going to release a TVA Loki, a Sylvie, and a Throg). all those other results--all those different outfits from every single Loki appearance, and different variations on those outfits, nearly all of them more screen-accurate and/or detailed than the Lego versions--are technically knockoffs. they’re better and you can buy them for way less. (I mean, a lot of them are new so I don’t have them yet, but I do have frost giant Loki, better Ragnarok Loki, better Avengers Loki, opera Loki who actually has another face that’s half-Jotun, and at least one chrome-helmet option, and they all look basically like the photos. so I think I can reasonably expect most of the new ones to look basically like their photos too.) 

for reasons that I don’t understand aside from a vague guess that it’s copyright-related, AliExpress pretty much no longer shows full pictures of Lego-type figures in their listings--instead, you have to pick just based on the heads. this is a problem when lots of heads look very similar to each other! luckily, the listings also typically have the actual serial numbers for each figure, as do the HeroBloks listings, so you can cross-reference them to see what you’re really getting. for instance let’s take this listing because it’s cheap and it offers most of the Loki figures that are currently available. say you’re interested in one of the horn-less Lokis. there are...let’s see, five of them, but you have no idea what they actually look like aside from slightly different facial expressions and maybe weapons. however, the first one listed says XH1359 for its color...and what do you know, 1359 is the serial number for this Loki by a company called Xinh. okay cool, how about the last one? the “color” is listed as WM2182--and yes, HeroBloks has a listing for a Ragnarok Loki from World Minifigures with the serial number 2182. (I just ordered all 8 of the new World Minifigures ones yesterday, so again, I can’t personally guarantee yet that they’ll look as good in person as in the pictures--but I think they probably will, and more importantly they cost a whole dollar each.) and if HeroBloks doesn’t have a particular figure, you can probably find something useful just by googling the serial number.

I specifically bought from this listing yesterday because they currently have a bit of a sale going and a deal for free shipping if you buy 10 figures, and I wanted a couple duplicates, so it worked out to be the cheapest option. the same store has another listing for a bunch more Marvel characters, including a couple more Lokis I already had, so it should be pretty easy to get the free shipping so the figures are less than a dollar each and you’re only risking about $10. if you’d rather try one or two and see how it goes, it looks like this listing is probably the cheapest, with figures currently going for a little over a dollar each once you add shipping (although it’s totally possible shipping is more for me because Alaska).

that’s...probably already way more information than you really wanted, but I hope at least some of it makes sense. feel free to ask other specific questions if they come up--I might not be able to give answers exactly, but I can probably tell you what my experience has been, which is better than nothing.

#loki #action figures #lego #marvel cinematic universe #conversations #scintillatingshortgirl19

[popwasabi]

“The Mandalorian” S2 is a power fantasy with mini Star Wars trailers

The term “Plot armor” is often used by readers and viewers to describe the myriad of ways writers keep their heroes away from any real danger no matter what choices or actions they make in the narrative. It’s typically a derisive phrase for the way a writer’s hero seems to escape death no matter what is thrown at him for the sole purpose of moving the plot forward.

In Disney+’s “The Mandalorian” this term takes a far more literal description in the form of our main anti-hero, played by Pedro Pascal, in his beskar armor which seems to be, by all accounts the most indestructible material in the galaxy far, far away.

(I mean, it still looks really cool too, of course.)

The result of this narrative decision in this series is that action scenes often don’t have real tension to them. In another series you might be able to reasonably believe the hero might be in danger with blaster fire shooting all around them but with beskar it’s almost comically not the case at all. Stormtroopers fire laser blast after laser blast at The Mando and each time they bounce harmlessly off him as if he were fucking Superman. It makes scenes feel devoid of stakes and danger no matter what situation they are in.

The show thus becomes a power fantasy, as action scenes serve as extended highlight reels for the Mando. Where season 1 of the show mitigated the power of the Mando’s plot armor by putting him more often in situations where his beskar alone wasn’t enough to save the day, season 2 goes mostly full power fantasy as The Mando rarely runs into a situation he can’t just quite literally walk through.

(“Aim for his armor, men! That’s his weak point!”)

This isn’t to say the season wasn’t without its high moments or even that it wasn’t enjoyable plenty of times but the series’ devotion to fan servicey action and callbacks to “Hey remember ____” makes it a fairly shallow story. At least for myself.

Season 2 of “The Mandalorian” continues the story of Din and his small Yoda-like companion, The Child (later known officially as Grogu), as he looks to complete a quest to return the burgeoning Force wielder to the Jedi. As he seeks to reunite The Child with the ancient Order, he encounters other Mandalorians who are on a quest to retake Mandalore and right on their tail is the nefarious Grand Moff Gideon who is still bent on capturing Grogu for whatever it is he has planned for the Empire.

Let me start this review by saying power fantasies aren’t inherently bad to watch or read. They can be good, cathartic junk food for the soul and can also be compelling, artistic, or even deeply metaphorical in their own way. A movie series like “John Wick” for instance is a power fantasy that aims to reinvent the wheel in action film-making with Keanu Reeves performing perhaps the best gun kata of all-time onscreen. Another film like Paul Verhoueven’s “Total Recall” can satirize the power fantasy to show how ridiculous it is in concept.

So, making your hero an unstoppable killing machine isn’t necessarily always a bad thing if used properly.

(Seriously, this is one of the smartest action films ever made. Don’t @ me.)

Now that that’s established, however, “The Mandalorian” season 2, despite some strong moments here and there, is a power fantasy that lacks these elements for a more interesting narrative. If you believe killing dozens of stormtroopers onscreen while never suffering so much as a scratch for eight episodes equals compelling storytelling then boy does Disney have a series for you.

Through the first four-ish episodes, the new season is mostly just fine and even quite enjoyable. We have the Mando getting a fun side quest with Timothy Olyphant on Tatooine where they get to wrangle a sand worm in a callback to the Westerns that inspired much of the franchise’s aesthetic. The Mando gets to escort a frog lady to her home planet to give birth to some tadpoles and they run into some actual danger in this episode in the form of kyrnknas/space spiders. And we get the return of Bo Katan from Dave Filoni’s “Clone Wars” and “Rebels” cartoon series, with Katee Sackhoff herself reprising the role in a fun Mandalorian team-up episode.

(I’m just so happy to see my girl, Starbuck, again more than anything honestly ;_;)

But the wheels started officially falling off for me in the next episode.

Episode 5 marked the live-action debut of fan favorite Ahsoka Tano, played by Rosario Dawson, and she meets the Mando by getting the jump on him with her lightsabers. In virtually any other situation we have been told lightsabers can cut through virtually anything. Now, beskar has been shown to be plenty durable throughout the series so far but lightsabers? Surely not.

Well…

It is an overall good episode despite this but it marked the point for me where I badly wanted The Mando to just go the rest of the series without it. Obviously, the writers aren’t going to actually kill our hero, afterall The Mouse needs more money and he can’t have it unless we get 50 more Mandalorian episodes and spin-offs, but at some point I gotta feel like there’s a possibility at least that our hero might actually die or at least is in danger. It is actually super funny to me each time The Mando ducks or seeks cover in a shootout when I know, and the viewer damn well knows, he can literally walk right into the middle of it and shoot all these motherfuckers at his own leisure cause his actual plot armor is the stuff of adamantium and vibranium combined.

Episode 5 is mostly good though, it’s a nice callback to old school samurai flicks and for an old fan like myself it was enough to ignore beskar again saving the Mando’s ass.

(This was cool...This...was...cool.)

If episode 5 marked the point in which the wheels began to come off though, episode 6 is where the show really spun out into the ditch for me. Perhaps, this series worst episode, personally, episode 6 reintroduces fan favorite and series inspiration Boba Fett back officially into the fold and the result was perhaps the most self-indulgent entry of the series.

(I mean, it was directed by Robert Rodriguez so...)

Boba arrives to demand his beskar from The Mando who promptly tells him “no” before they are ambushed by a platoon of stormtroopers. Alongside Ming-Na Wen’s Fennec Shand, the three do battle with the stormtroopers with ridiculous ease. I’m aware that stormtroopers exist to be on the highlight reel of our heroes in this franchise and have a long history of not being able to hit the broad side of a bantha but again, I can only watch these guys die by the dozens onscreen over and over again while our heroes get away without suffering even a bruise before it starts feeling boring and repetitive.

It only gets worse once Boba actually puts on his armor. In a sequence that I would describe as “gratuitously” fan servicey, Boba wastes just about every last stormtrooper in this scene culminating with him destroying their two get-away vehicles in a single shot with a rocket. Considering he was killing them with ease just moments before with nothing more than a battle club and a bathrobe, it seemed almost hilariously needless that he donned his iconic armor.

(It would be tempting to say the stormtroopers fought as ineptly as the Putty Patrol here but even the Power Rangers have struggled a few times against these guys...)

I get that Boba is really important to a lot of fans, based on their perceptions of him in the original trilogy and subsequent books and graphic novels that came out in the following years, but here’s a hot take; this series didn’t need him in it. Maybe they didn’t need to keep him rotting in the Sarlacc Pit but this episode, alongside Ahsoka Tano’s feels more like marketing choices for the story rather than narrative ones. I’ll concede that there is a bit more substance to having Ahsoka there to commune with Grogu but their additions to the plot don’t actually show much of anything about the Mando outside physically helping him in a fight.

The way they tease, in both cases, stories that exist outside the internal narrative between Ahsoka’s search for Admiral Thrawn and Boba taking over Jabba’s palace at the end of the final episode, it feels like Disney threw in mini trailers for fans to nibble on at the expense of telling the Mando’s own story and letting it stand on its own like the first season.

The choice to have these characters shoved into this season again appears to be market driven not narrative. Once more, I get that these characters are important personally to many fans, but the appearance of these characters alone DO NOT equal good storytelling.

(Me when a fan tells me “But Boba was such a badass in *obscurely titled EU book that a handful of general audiences have read*! He deserves this moment!”)

The final episode of the season is truly encapsulating of all these issues “The Mandalorian” has, however. Moff Gideon, played by the always sharp Giancarlo Esposito, has Grogu imprisoned aboard his ship. The Mando and his friends plan a rescue mission to save him and, just like nearly every episode before, it is stupidly easy for our protagonists.

The crew of five, again, walk through every Imperial on the ship. I don’t mean this metaphorically by the way, I mean this literally as Cara, Fennec, Bo Katan and Koshka Reeves (played by WWE’s Sasha Banks) without a single moment of real adversity just blast through every stormtrooper on the ship and never get hit once in the process.

A good action scene needs an element of danger, a sense that our hero might actually not come out of this alive even though we all know they will. An action scene without this has no tension and without tension it becomes booooooooring.

(Even John fucking Wick is capable of bleeding, guys...)

The finale had a chance, however, to add real stakes and danger to the scene in the form of this season’s new enemy; The Dark Troopers. These Imperial battle droids were foreshadowed as these super soldiers at the end of episode 4 and seemed to be billed as a real dangerous match for our heroes to faceup against. When the Mando finally gets himself face to face with one he finds they are not as easy to kill as the nameless stormtroopers from before. To see The Mando briefly face real adversity for a change snapped me out of my cynical mood so sharply for a moment I thought I had turned on another series by accident.

But of course, danger never lasts long in this series as The Mando’s armor again saves him first from getting pummeled to death by the droid’s super fists then he uses his plot spear, cause of course he has one of those too, to finish the job.

Danger over.

Moff Gideon doesn’t fair much better in this episode. This villain who had been built up for two seasons as this calculative monster gets stopped rather easily with Mando and his friends barely breaking a sweat. This character feels wasted because of this, even though I’m sure Giancarlo Esposito will return in the next season. He just feels about as much like a pushover as the nameless stormtroopers in this series.

The episode had one more chance though to show these Dark Troopers meant business toward the end as we found the heroes cornered on the command deck with nowhere to run and a dozen of these droids ready to blast and pound them into the floorboards. But help arrives in the form of a Deus X-Wing Machina.

Without having to face even one Dark Trooper, Luke fucking Skywalker arrives on the ship and kills every droid without breaking a sweat. It plays as inspiring in the moment but again I just found myself bored and irritated. A chance to see the series heroes actually use their wits and show their creativity in a moment of true danger thwarted to please fan boys.

I get that Grogu called out to him in episode 6 but creatively this felt like an extremley lazy way to solve the heroes’ dilemna.

(“Hello my name is Jedi. I enjoy doing...*computes script* Jedi things.”)

This season wasn’t all bad. It certainly had nice production value that made each alien world pop and beautiful to look at. Every actor and actress played their parts expertly well, with what they were given, and made for interesting characters at times. There are also nice homages to both Western and Samurai cinema throughout the season that fans of both will appreciate. And Pedro Pascal is just so good on his own, especially in tender moments with Grogu, that you forget that his character is kind of a Gary Stu.

But the main crux of the issue here that I’m trying to get across is the reason you need to remove the plot armor of your heroes is not just because action scenes need tension and stakes, it’s that when faced with danger these scenes reveal who these characters are. I used to believe that the reason Mandalorians and Jedi had such a fierce rivalry in the lore despite the obvious advantages of wielding the Force was because these famed bounty hunters were just that fucking good at killing. That despite being, on paper, normal people they had great martial prowess, athletic skill, and the tactical wit to outsmart people who can literally sense their feelings. But now with beskar and the way this series is written, it appears the Mandalorians were challenging warriors just because they happened to harness the most OP armor building material in the galaxy.

It makes you wonder how the fuck they were conquered to begin with…

(Maybe they just needed more knee rockets...)

This takes away from the mysticism of the Mandalorians for me. It makes The Mando less interesting to me in the way he fights. Yea he can shoot really good too but really it’s the armor that makes him the fighter that he is and I find that kind of boring. We occasionally get this character to remove the armor during the series, including a whole episode that was easily one of the best of the season, and in every case he’s more interesting once the helmet comes off. I get that fans hold a lot of reverence for that armor, yea it still looks really cool, but making it this impenetrable super material doesn’t add anything to the story.

If anything, it takes away from it.

(Plus how could you not love Pedro Pascal when he’s out of armor? uWu)

I wouldn’t go as far as to say I hate season 2, even though I spent 2000 plus words just now lambasting it but I guess I just want to say I am unimpressed more than anything. I feel like I’ve seen better Star Wars be it in the movies, cartoons, books, video games, etc and I’ve certainly seen better action in the franchise as well.

Considering fan reaction so far appears to be overwhelmingly positive, I am definitely in the minority here and you are welcome to enjoy this series as much as you want in spite of how unimpressed I am with the season. But considering all I have seen of this fandom the last few years, regarding complaints about fan service (“Rogue One”), easily defeated/underdeveloped bad guys (“The Last Jedi”), and Mary Sues (The sequel trilogy in general), I have to ask again what is it actually that fans like or don’t like about new entries in the franchise? It’s not that there isn’t valid criticisms there and “The Mandalorian” is enjoyable in sincere ways too but it has many of the issues I hear commonly said of more divisive entries in the Disneyverse. So why does it get a pass?

I’ve been told it’s not worth my energy to talk too derisively about the fans in one of my earlier write-ups, so I’ll leave it at that but it does make me wonder.

(“Rogue One” admittedly has a simarily self-indulgent action sequence though haha...)

Season 2 of “The Mandalorian” isn’t the worst piece of Star Wars media ever created, far from it, and for most part its solid enjoyable Saturday morning cartoon theater but if the series wants to really take steps to become more compelling in the future it might be good to stop bubble wrapping their heroes in plot armor. Literally.

Until then this is the way…I guess…

Me getting ready for the backlash...

#Star Wars #the mandalorian #Mando #Baby Yoda #grogu #Boba Fett #Mandalorians #bsg #Battlestar Galactica #jedi #Ahsoka tanno #The Last Jedi #ROgue One #jon favreau #dave filoni #Clone Wars #Star Wars rebels #Sabine Wren #Breaking Bad #John Wick #Keanu Reeves #paul verhoeven #Total Recall #power fantasy #disney #Disney Plus #TV #review

[440mxs-wife]

Lost and Found

"You want me to work this case with who?" Arthur Ketch asked.

"Relax, Ketch, she's had field experience before, she just hasn't been in the field much lately. Trust me, she'll be perfect for this," Dean assured him.

"This is not a training op, a learn-as-you-go thing, this is a serious case, Dean. I need an experienced hunter to carry off the cover story and perform her duty. I don't think she fits the part, and she's not my type anyway," Ketch complained.

As if on cue, you walked through the War Room on your way to the main living area. You had a book in one hand, which you were reading as you walked. A cup of cocoa occupied your other hand. You reached the living room and settled into a corner of the couch with your favorite quilt.

Dean cleared his throat behind you. Without looking up from your book, you asked, "What do you need, Dean?"

"So, we have a case right now that requires your unique....talents," he started.

You closed your book in annoyance and narrowly gazed at Dean. "To what 'unique talents' are you referring? What exactly do you want me to do?" you asked.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, something he tended to do when he was nervous or about to do something he didn't want to do. "This is Arthur Ketch, former British Man of Letters. There's a case involving a vampire, named Simon Foster. He's hosting a formal party by invitation only. Your cover would involve you posing as a couple with Ketch," he explained.

You knew this wasn't the whole story, so you waited for Dean to finish. "And....you have to dress up, like evening-gown type dressing up," he added.

You took a few moments to assess your potential hunting partner's attributes. You knew that in the past, he had been a ruthless killer for the British Men of Letters. However, you also remembered how he rescued Gabriel from Asmodeus, at great risk to his own safety. He was working with the Winchesters from time to time as a free-lance operative.

Aside from the professional evaluation, you had to admire his broad chest and tall, confident stature. He had sparkling blue-green eyes that you knew had to hold a certain amount of mischief every now and then. He had just enough of a beard to be considered ruggedly handsome and sexy. And that accent made you a little weak in the knees, if you were being truly honest with yourself.

Ketch interpreted your silence to mean that you were refusing to work with him on the case. "As I told you, Dean, she's not right for this mission," he retorted.

"Mr. Ketch, you don't know me very well. And I only know of you what I've heard in the tales of your exploits from Sam and Dean. Maybe it's time we got our assumptions about each other out of the way, and work this case? Hmm?" you replied as you rose from the couch.

Ketch walked over to where you were standing and said, "Well, my dear, since you have dropped the gauntlet, I accept your challenge. Oh, by the way, I do hope you have something appropriate to wear. Flannel and jeans won't fly in this instance, darling," he smirked.

You took one step towards Ketch, close enough so that you could detect the scent of his aftershave. With more calm in your voice than you currently felt, you looked deep into his eyes. "There's more to me than flannel and jeans. Buckle up, Mr. Ketch. It's going to be a fun ride," you replied, making a show of adjusting his tie before walking out of the room.

Ketch looked over at Dean, who was alternating between shock at your actions and outright laughter at Ketch's expense. He turned on his heel and went to his room, which was fortunately in the opposite direction of yours.

You spent the next week and a half preparing for the upcoming hunt with Ketch. Most of the time was occupied doing research, looking through books and poking around on the internet. Otherwise, you could easily be found at the firing range. You felt you were a little rusty, and the extra range time would help increase your accuracy. You also didn't want to give Ketch one single reason to regret partnering with you.

"Research days" were long ones. You made sure to take plenty of breaks to stretch your legs. If you made yourself a snack, you brought one back for Ketch also. Where you had hot cocoa or coffee, you made tea for Ketch. He never asked you for anything, but for you, it was almost automatic to share in your hospitality. It was in these little ways that you were trying to show Mr. Ketch that his assumptions about you may not be accurate.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ketch stared at the glass of milk you brought to him, along with three chocolate chip cookies you had baked the day before. Today, it was muffins at breakfast, cookies in the afternoon and pie with dinner. The woman certainly has her talents, he thought. Maybe she can pull this off after all.

As you nibbled on your cookie, Ketch took a moment to study you. You had greenish-hazel eyes, one of which had a small dark mark in the iris. Your medium length chestnut locks couldn't keep themselves from falling in your face. On more than one occasion, Ketch found himself wanting to reach over and tuck the wayward curls behind your ear. As you searched through the reference books, he could see the look of deep concentration on your face. He had to admit, you may just have the determination to get the job done.

He had followed you one day to the shooting range to see how you handled a firearm. He watched as you carefully loaded the rounds into the clip for your .380 pistol, and inserted the clip. When the weapon was ready, you raised it into position, took aim and systematically emptied the clip. You left the target hanging on the range, so as soon as you left, Ketch went over to check your results. He was amazed to find that all rounds except one hit center mass, just like they were supposed to do. The only one that didn't hit center mass was a head shot.

From what he'd seen, you were more than capable of performing your part in this case. You had already demonstrated to him that you could handle a firearm. This skill likely translated to other weapons as well, so Ketch wasn't worried about that.

You'd also shown him your sensitive side. It was in the way you took care of everyone in the bunker, including him, despite his initial dismissive attitude towards you. It occurred to him that it was partially because of you that the Winchesters' hunting operation was so successful. You made sure everyone was fed well, had clean clothes and injuries were patched. Not just the physical injuries either, but the emotional ones as well that can take their toll on a hunter.

One night, he had a nightmare that left him calling out in his sleep. In his nightmare, he was put on trial by the British Men of Letters. All of the people he had killed were brought in as witnesses against him, and of course, he was found guilty. His punishment was that each victim got a chance to kill him, causing him to experience his own death several times over.

He jerked awake to find you had crept into his room and were sitting on the edge of his bed. You gently laid a hand on his arm to assure him that he was safe and that it was only a nightmare, not real. He tried to be the tough guy, rather than let you see how upset the nightmare had made him. He didn't want you to think he was soft or didn't have the guts to carry out the mission.

You never asked what his nightmare was about, probably figuring that he wouldn't want to tell you. You simply stated that all hunters had nightmares from what they've seen and done, so he was no different, that even you had them. In fact, you'd had one that night as well, and were having trouble getting back to sleep from it.

Ketch couldn't believe that someone so kind and compassionate as you would have anything to fear or regret about what you'd done in the course of hunting. You told him that some of your nightmares were about loved ones being tortured or killed while you were forced to watch. Most of them, though, were about the people you couldn't save, in addition to all of the guilt and helplessness you felt about the outcomes.

When it appeared to you that Ketch was uninterested in the comfort you came to offer, you awkwardly stood up from the bed. You mumbled that if he needed anything, you were down at the end of the hall, then you made your way to the door. As your hand was on the doorknob, ready to leave, he asked you to stay so that he could comfort you. He assured you he meant no funny business, that he was only offering a way for you both to get back to sleep. You looked at him, a little skeptical at first, then relented with a shy smile.

Ketch held up the blanket for you to slip into bed beside him. You started out at the far edge of the bed, your back to him as you laid your head on the pillow. He reached over to drape an arm around your midsection and pulled you closer to him. He accidentally nuzzled your neck with his stubbly chin and breathed in the scent of strawberries from your shampoo. When he exhaled, his breath was warm against your skin, but you seemed to shiver a bit in response. In a shaky voice, you whispered, "Goodnight, Arthur," took his hand in yours and closed your eyes. He whispered "goodnight" and also closed his eyes, a smile etched on his face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ketch was putting the last minute touches on his tux while he waited for you to get ready. He made sure he had the invitation listing both of your names. He also made sure he had his sharpest machete ready, along with some dead man's blood. He was about ready to call out to you to see how much longer you'd be, when he heard the unmistakable sound of high-heeled shoes on the tile floor.

You were dressed in a midnight blue, floor-length gown, with a slit halfway up your left thigh. The A-line gown had a criss-cross bodice that hugged your curves, and featured wide straps that crossed in the back. Embedded in the fabric were tiny crystals that sparkled as they hit the light, reminding Ketch of the stars in the night sky. You wore your silver sparkly pumps to finish your wardrobe.

You chose to sweep your hair up in a French twist. You kept your makeup simple, mostly earth tones, with pink lipstick. You chose white crystal stud earrings and a velvet cameo choker to complete your jewelry selection.

When he saw you, his mouth ran dry, and for a moment, he had lost the ability to form a coherent thought. You noticed that his bow tie needed a little work, so you set your small handbag on the table and proceeded to fix his tie. "There," you said. "Now it's perfect. You look very dashing this evening, Mr. Ketch," you remarked.

"I must say, you look absolutely stunning, my dear," Ketch finally said. "This dress certainly suits you and definitely brings out your eyes," he murmured, so softly that only you could hear him.

"Thank you," you said quietly, a blush rising on your cheeks. At that moment, Dean walked in on the two of you and whistled. "Whoa! Lookin' good, you two!" he declared. "'Specially you in the dress," he said as he winked at you. You looked at Ketch, rolled your eyes and jerked your head in Dean's direction. He chuckled softly at your dismissal of Dean's compliment.

You looked at the delicate watch on your wrist and noticed the time. "We should get to the party, so that we don't miss our chance to take out the host," you remarked.

"Agreed. Shall we, my dear?" Ketch asked as he held out his arm to you. You slipped your hand through his arm, and he tucked it close to his side as you ascended the spiral staircase together. As you left, Dean sent up a silent plea for a successful hunt, with everything going according to plan.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You and Ketch walked into the party, hand in hand. Ketch let go of your hand long enough to retrieve your invitation and hand it to the bouncer at the door. You felt Ketch's hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the room. When you reached the dance floor, Ketch skillfully turned you around so that you were in his arms, ready to dance.

"We don't have time for this," you hissed.

"We have to blend in, Love. If we don't, we'll be in some deep trouble before we've had a chance to ID our objective," Ketch firmly but softly stated. "Now, let's dance," he commanded.

You settled into the waltz, allowing Ketch to lead you all around the dance floor. He was an amazing dancer, probably part of his training with the British Men of Letters. Fortunately for him, you had also taken dancing lessons, so you weren't completely clumsy. As you moved across the floor, you kept trying to find your host, the vampire.

"Relax, darling, I've already spotted him," Ketch assured you. "When this song is over, you are going to slap me as if we've just had an argument. After that, go to the bar for a drink. Don't worry, our host the vampire will seek you out. He'll see a beautiful but heartbroken woman. Let him convince you to go somewhere private where he can 'console' you. I'll keep my eye on you both and wait for the opportunity to take him out."

"You want me to slap you, then walk away as if we've had a fight about something? Okay," you shrugged, doing as you were ordered. "JERK!!" you spat out as you turned on your heel and went towards the bar. Ketch stood there, staring after you and holding his cheek. He was left wondering if maybe you enjoyed your part a little too much.

You perched yourself on a barstool and ordered a drink. As you sipped it, you felt a powerful presence approach you on your left side. It's him, you thought. Where the hell is Ketch? you wondered as a slight panic set in. You didn't dare turn around, though, as that may blow your cover story.

"A little trouble in love, hmm?" a deep voice rumbled.

You turned towards the source. "Pardon me?" you asked.

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Simon Foster, and I'm the host of this soirée. But I'm sure you already knew that, didn't you?" he purred, his hand lightly brushing your arm.

You fought the instinct to pull your arm away in disgust. "Of course I know you. Simon Foster: CEO of Foster Industries, head of the second largest shipping company in the world. Desperately clawing his way to being the first largest shipping company in the world. Offices spread out all over the globe, such as in New York, Liverpool, Rio de Janeiro, Sydney, Marseille," you finished.

"Well, I'm impressed. You've certainly done your homework, my dear. But enough business talk. Let's get a little more personal," he suggested.

"I really should be getting back to---" Simon put a finger to your lips. "Let him suffer a bit first. Besides, my sister Cynthia seems to be occupying him," he snickered.

You turned your attention towards where you'd left Ketch. You were shocked to see him with his arms around a gorgeous, leggy blonde woman in a red sequined dress. Simon turned your face back to him, so that you were looking into his eyes. "Come, my darling, let's go somewhere a little more private, and get to know each other better," he coaxed.

You gave him a quick smile and slid down from the barstool. You had only had the one drink and sipped it at that. However, you felt a bit unsteady on your feet, as if you'd had more like four drinks. Simon offered you his arm to support you as he led you away from the bar area to one of the private rooms. Ketch, you silently pleaded. Don't leave me, please.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No sooner had you left to go to the bar, that a blonde-haired woman in a red sequined dress came up to Ketch and asked him to dance. Ever the gentleman, he obliged, but did not lose sight of you. The blonde woman introduced herself as Cynthia Foster, sister of your host, Simon Foster. He engaged Cynthia in conversation, maintaining his cover, while trying to learn anything he could about her brother. The next time he turned his attention towards the bar, you were gone and so was Simon.

You and Simon stumbled into his private study area, where he closed the door and locked it behind him. In one swift move, he backed you up against his desk and started kissing you. As you stuck out your hand behind you to keep from falling over, you cut your finger on a letter opener.

When you examined the cut and the blood dripping from it, you could see the pupils in Simon's eyes grow wide. He took your finger in his mouth and tasted the blood. "Oh, darling. You taste so sweet, just like I knew you would," he growled as his fangs came into view. He pushed your head to the side and sank his fangs into your neck.

You knew you had to do something before you fell unconscious from losing too much blood. You carefully slid your hand down your thigh under your dress to release one of the syringes of dead man's blood you had hidden. Unfortunately, Simon caught on to what you were doing and wrenched it from your hand. "YOU!! You're a hunter!!" he screeched, throwing you to the floor and causing you to hit your head on a table in the process.

From the blood loss and possible concussion, you were finding it hard to remain conscious, let alone fight back. Fortunately, Ketch had burst through the door, wielding his machete. He took two long strides towards the vampire and skillfully sliced off Simon's head. With the mission objective met, Ketch turned his attention towards you. He noticed the bite marks on your neck and placed his handkerchief over it. He told you to hold it there to try and stop the blood loss.

"Ketch....Ketch....Arthur...." you whispered. He turned to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry. I should've....should....should've paid better attention," you remarked softly.

"Shh, try not to talk now, Love. Let's get you back to the bunker and patched up, good as new. I just hope to bloody hell Dean doesn't kill me for this," Ketch muttered. He placed you in the front seat of the car, buckled you in and then he ran around to the driver's side. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Ketch threw the car into gear and sped off into the night, headed back to the bunker.

"I'm so tired, Arthur," you replied as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Hold on, Love, hold on. We'll be there soon, just stay with me. Keep holding that kerchief up to your neck, darling," he soothed. When he didn't hear you respond, he looked over to see that you had fallen unconscious. He mashed down the accelerator in response, and soon the bunker was in his sights.

Once in the garage, he parked the car and ran around to the passenger side to get you. He scooped you up into his arms and pounded on the bunker door. Sam answered and quickly ushered you both in, then called out for Dean to help.

"What the hell happened, Ketch?!? You were supposed to look out for her. Is that what this looks like??" Dean thundered.

Ketch didn't say anything as he carried you to the infirmary to care for your wounds. You had bite marks on your neck from Simon, and a gash on your forehead where you'd hit the table. He placed you gently on the bed and went to the cabinet for what he would need to clean you up. Dean snatched the suture kit out of Ketch's hands and pushed him aside.

"Now see here, mate--" Ketch started angrily. "No, you see here. I'll take care of her. Been patching her up long before you came along, and I'll be doing it long after you leave," Dean retorted.

"Dean," you mumbled, opening your eyes. "Knock it off. It wasn't his fault," you muttered, sitting up a little. "He took out the vamp and his sister, mission accomplished," you said as you fell back onto the bed. "Arthur?" you called softly.

"Right here, Love," he said as he sat beside the bed and took your hand in his.

"Can you please stitch this up?" you asked, pointing at your neck and forehead.

Dean reluctantly handed him the suture kit and then stepped aside. "As you wish, darling," said Ketch. "Can someone please bring me a basin of warm water and a washcloth? I'll need to clean up some of this blood to see where I need to stitch," he explained. Sam left to go get the basin and washcloth.

Ketch looked at you with guilt in his eyes. You could tell that he felt responsible for what happened to you after having lost sight of you at the party. "Arthur, stop it. This wasn't your fault. I know how to take care of myself. It's just that this damn dress is so confining, which is why I'm a jeans-and-flannel kind of girl," you joked. He chuckled and you could see the relief in his eyes to know you would be all right.

"Well then, once we clean you up, we'll let you slip into something, shall we say, less confining and more comfortable?" he teased. By this time, Sam had returned with the basin and washcloth, as requested.

Ketch gently cleaned and dried your wounds. Turns out, the one on your forehead just needed those sterile tape strips to hold it closed, no stitches needed. Your neck was another story, though. Ketch took great care in making the stitches small to minimize the scar you were inevitably going to have. Dean brought back your pajamas so you would have something comfortable to change into. The guys then left the infirmary to give you some privacy as you changed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Weeks went by with no new cases or missions, which gave you time for your wounds to heal. You also felt yourself getting a little closer to Ketch, but you weren't sure if he felt the same way. He would always call you "Love" or "Darling". While not necessarily meant in a romantic way, it made you feel special each time he said it.

One afternoon, you were reading your book when you heard an argument in the hallway between Dean and Ketch. You heard sharp tones in the voices of both men, so you went to investigate.

"So you're just going to leave? Without even saying 'goodbye' to anyone, especially her?" Dean snapped. "After everything that's happened?"

"Dean, you know as well as I do, relationships and hunting don't pair well together. As far as any relationship I may have with her, it would be foolish to entertain such an idea. So you see--" he stopped.

"What's going on here? Arthur, what are you talking about?" you asked.

"He says he's found a case and after he's finished, he won't be coming back to live here," Dean retorted.

You felt the blood drain from your face. "Arthur, is this true? I thought....never mind what I thought," you muttered.

"Oh, let me guess. You thought that there were 'special feelings' between us? Darling, trust me, you don't want to get mixed up with someone like me. Not after the things that I've done," he finished.

"You still don't get it, do you?" you snapped in a rare flash of anger. "I don't care what you've done in the past! That isn't the man you are today, and he's the man that I....I love. There, I've said it. I love you, Arthur Ketch. And if you can't see that love is a gift and that it's worth fighting for....then maybe you should go," you choked out.

Ketch picked up his bag. "Well, I guess that's it then. Nothing more to say, I suppose, except goodbye," he said.

Tears in your eyes, you watched him walk up the spiral staircase and out to the garage. You jumped when the bunker door slammed shut, then you ran to your room and closed the door.

"Damn you, Ketch," Dean muttered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soon after Ketch left, Sam and Dean started finding some new cases to work. You mostly stayed behind to do much-needed research for them. You were still heartbroken that Ketch decided to leave even after you declared your love for him. However, you tried to keep up a brave face for Sam and Dean. You smiled even when you didn't feel like it, just to keep them from asking if you were okay.

One night after a particularly dicey werewolf hunt, you were relieved when the boys finally came through the bunker door. Only this time, they weren't alone, they had someone with them. The man was injured and seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. You told them to bring him to the infirmary while you went to get the water basin and a washcloth.

"Okay, fellas, tell me what happened," you said. As you started to assess your patient, you gasped to see that it was none other than Arthur Ketch. The man to whom you had given your heart, but who didn't seem to want it.

"We found him locked in battle with that werewolf. He was holding his own until the werewolf slashed him across his stomach with its claws," Sam explained.

"A-all right. Let's get him cleaned up then I can see where he needs stitches. Dean, hand me a few suture kits, Sam help me get his jacket and shirt off," you ordered.

"Are you going to be okay with this? I mean, after what happened the last time he was here?" Dean asked.

"Dean, I'll be fine. Strictly professional, just the way he likes things. The sooner he gets well, the sooner he'll be free to leave me again," you said, your vision a little blurry from unshed tears. Dean squeezed your shoulder in support, and you gave him a small smile. Then you dipped the washcloth in warm water and started to clean Ketch's wounds.

After you had stitched him up, you dressed him in a clean T-shirt you had found in his bag. You left briefly to get your book so that you had something to do while you kept an eye on him.

Little did you know, Ketch was aware of what was going on the entire time. He heard the pain in your voice when you mentioned how he'd be free to leave you again once he was healed. Right then, he made up his mind that he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He just had to figure out how to show you that.

As you kept watch over your patient, you noticed that he had started mumbling in his sleep again. You drew your chair next to his bed and took his hand in yours. "I must be out of my damn mind, going down this path again," you muttered to yourself.

All of a sudden, you heard him say your name, and how he was sorry he'd hurt you. Then he said the words you longed to hear, "I love you, and I'm not leaving you again". He's asleep, he doesn't know what he's saying, you told yourself. You looked down and saw that he had opened his blue-green eyes and was searching your face for some sign of your feelings for him.

"Arthur? How are you feeling?" you asked gently.

He reached up with his free hand and cupped your cheek. "I've been better. The werewolf tore up my stomach, but I'm also hurting in my heart. You see, there was this wonderful woman I got to work with a while back.

“She's kind, considerate of others and is the most beautiful creature I've ever met. She sort of wiggled her way into my heart, and well, she never really left. But I left. Like a coward, I left her, which I never should've done," he confessed.

"What are you saying, Arthur?" you whispered.

"I'm saying that I was a fool to ever have left you, my love. I'm hoping that someday you can forgive me. You've helped me to see that love is a gift and it's definitely worth fighting for. I love you," he replied, pulling your face down to mesh his lips with yours. They were as soft as you'd imagined they would be, but firm, as he took charge of the kiss like he did with everything else in his life.

"I'm so glad you came back. I love you, Arthur Ketch," you said softly.

#ketch #arthur ketch #arthur ketch x reader #ketch x reader #spn imagine #spn fluff #supernatural

[spudinacup]

Spinels Character Analysis:

Now that the comic has caught up to this point I can go on a bit of a tangent here and rant about my logic behind Spinels progression through the first seven pages of the SU AU Gone Wrong comic. 

Let's dive right in then, shall we?

Spinel’s Character Break Down and Emotional Complexity: 

This is gonna be one hell of a long rant so putting Readmore here. 

[This isn’t proofread so if there are grammar or spelling mistakes we’ll all have to live with them]

Spinel as a character is rather complex and predictably unpredictable in how she reacts to situations. In Pixar, they have a concept they like to refer to as the spine of the character. This is the basis of who they are and will drive all their decisions throughout the story. A prime example of this is Woody; his spine is to protect his kid and ultimately get back to him. This drives every one of Woody’s decisions. By being separated from Andy he feels that he will be hurt by his absence and as such seeks out a solution to this dilemma. As a whole, Spinel’s spine, so to speak, is rooted in her insecurity; more specifically her insecurity around rejection. It’s part of what made her so appealing to the fanbase and also to the viewers of the film. It almost seemingly justifies her murderous intent and ability to cause such havoc and devastation. 

When looking at the concept of insecurity and abandonment you’ll find articles referring to child abandonment syndromes. TMI moment; but I was abandoned by my genetic parents and have an unfortunately extensive understanding of the sensations revolving around this kind of trauma. Spinel in many ways was a child for Pink, she was a playmate. This doesn’t imply that she had any maternal connection to Spinel but if you compare her situation to that of a child dealing with this kind of neglect it aligns very similarly. Spinel did not choose to be made, she was born into Pink’s service and felt that was her world. She revolved around Pink and was there to please her whims. She was immature yes, but so is a child. 

In an article by Lynne Namka titled, “The Many Causes of Feelings of Insecurity and Abandonment,” she analyzes the impacts and results of this kind of abandonment.

“Some abandonment issues can be related to physical security and fears of survival of the physical body. Rejected children can fear annihilation if their emotional and physical needs are not met. The external rejection and lack of love are internalized by the child along with beliefs of being unworthy, undeserving and unlovable. These children can grow up to become jealous and insecure in their relationships.” 

Everyone at some point in their lives has felt tossed aside or dejected by society or others and this drives home further that feeling of connection to this character. It as a rather smart choice for the Crewneverse to go ahead with such a character archetype considering the themes of forgiveness and friendship in Steven Universe.

The problem with a character that is based so heavily around the concept of rejection is their reactions upon being confronted by it. We see this demonstrated in the film through each of Spinel’s actions. This sensation of being left behind is strong enough that even while dealing with amnesia and being rejuvenated to an earlier state the emotional trauma still rears its ugly head in the form of aggression.

Upon arriving at Earth in the film Spinel proclaims that she is there to kill Steven Universe and even continues to state in the concluding scene that:

 “You know I came here to take my anger out on a bunch of strangers, but now that I know you... I want to kill you even more.” 

This again coincides with the concept of Abandonment Rage. To quote another article of the same name from Lynne Namka:

“Blind rage often comes out of the anxiety and terror of being left behind. Domestic violence expert Donald Dutton defines abandonment rage by saying, “Rage often comes after fears of feeling abandoned and helplessness. A child is made furiously angry by a parent’s threats to desert him but on the other hand, he does not express that anger in case it makes the parent actually do so….the anger of a parent becomes repressed and directed at someone else later on.” Repressed anger then becomes displaced or put on someone else after frustration builds up to a boiling-over point.”

This is the progression of Spinel’s character arch prior to reaching Steven. She has had this melting pot of anger boiling inside of her festering and mixing into a whirlwind of hate and repressed frustrations. Spinel is experiencing a catathymic crisis, a term coined by the Forensic Psychologist J. Ried Meloy. To put it simply, its where the individual's anger becomes a catharsis for feelings of vulnerability. Its a moment of disconnect from one’s logic and instead allows their actions to be driven by this anger lacking any logical perceptions or thought behind it. Webster's definition is as such: an unexpected explosive outburst of impulsive often destructive behavior understandable only in terms of unconscious motivation 

So now that we know where her head was at before confronting Steven, what happened after she killed him?

The Impact of Steven’s Death:

Spinel’s actions with the rejuvenator are rash, fast, and not well thought out. There’s been a few great analysis on Tumblr that follow this line of thought. 

 As a whole, Spinel is playing with the Crystal Gems but her aim is true with her weapon. When she strikes down Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl its with a single slash straight through the middle, it's effective. What better place could you aim to cause immediate results? On the slim, and probably impossible but work with me here, chance that it didn’t work immediately or at the very least didn’t poof them, there’s no walking away from that impact. It effectively disrupts their physical form and forces them to retreat into their gems.

The intention of the injuries inflicted on Steven follows this same kind of logic. Spinel was attempting to cause as much damage as possible as quickly as possible. 

Steven Universe is Pink Diamond, she knows this, or at least he has what’s left of her. Diamonds are difficult to kill as we learned during Steven’s trial. 

So why was she trying?

 In my opinion, it was because she was attempting to remove the obstacles that were in her way to being Pink’s friend. She was envious. Under all the hurt and misdirected anger, she still feels abandonment. While it may enrage her she still longs to be accepted and craves that solace of belonging again. Pink Diamond was her world, she was all she had, that absence has left a void that little can fill.  We ultimately see this envy and desire manifest in the climax of the film as she fights Steven and ultimately crumbles under her own emotional state before the injector combusts.

After removing the obstacles that are the other gems she turns her focus upon Steven. The rejuvenator would revert him back to a prior state. If it brought Pink back, great she’d have the source of her anger. If it reverted his powers and Pink was really gone? Fine, she’d be done with him soon enough. It wasn’t a logical decision, it was an emotionally driven and rash conclusion of her abandonment. 

When she attack’s Steven her first blow takes off Steven’s arm. I wanted this to stand out to the viewer upon their viewing of the comic. It's drastic, impactful and leaves one unsettled by the sensation of having some ripped violently from their person. The arm is in many ways if you look between the lines, an analogy of P!Steven’s situation. He has been lopped off what made him whole and is only half of a person in his current manifestation. There is no way to efficiently reattach that limb with the flesh expiring in his arms.

The second of her attacks follow suit almost immediately following the amputation of Steven’s arm. She attempts to recreate the action she did with the Crystal Gems and cut him in half. Again, this being an efficient and fast way to destabilize him and poof the gem. However, Steven is half-human. So worked up by her own feelings of entitlement to the violence and grief Spinel is blind to the blood that flies from his injuries and only realizes what has happened once she can no longer swing wildly. The second blow ultimately was the fatal one while also what forces his gem out of his body. Amputates his gem, if you will.

Unshown in the comic is Spinel realizing something isn’t right however it was actually the first image I did for this AU shown here: 

The rejuvenator becomes stuck within Steven’s torso, it doesn’t go all the way through him.  This isn’t normal and gives Spinel’s mind enough time for her actions is starting to sink into her. With this comprehension comes with it the confusion of what she is seeing. 

[-credit @thelostmoongazer​ for this illustration.] Spinel has never met a human. Spinel has never been to Earth. Spinel has no concept of what an organic is asides from the small critters from the garden she presumably spent her entire life within. She has been isolated, abandoned, and now she’s thrust into the world blinded with rage that has left her unable to perceive the vulnerabilities of the individual she is facing.

In this instance Spinel panics and throws her weapon aside alarmed by the strange liquid she now finds her body splattered with. She attempts to distance herself from the collapsing Steven, the atrocity she has just committed, and the expanding substance that gushed from his body's fractures.

Gem’s poof, that is our understanding of their forms being disrupted. The Crystal Gem’s had poofed, Steven, however, Steven hadn’t. 

This is when Pink appears:

As a direct result of her attack upon Steven, P!Steven is given space and room to reform himself. This immediately puts Spinel in the position of not only feeling confusion and shock of the situation she’d put herself into as her temper begins to subside and she watches the pink glow overtake the field they stood within. There is a sensation, we’ve all felt it before, its the same one you feel when you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar by your parents. It isn't that she regretted her actions, its that she regretted being caught. 

Not only right after it dawns on her that something is wrong but, as she assumes, the very person she’d been driven to this near insanity by.

She reverts a bit here, tries to resolve some of the issues with the newly reformed Pink. She tries to connect with them and apologize for what they were seeing, for what she had done. Underneath her resentment, she doesn't want to be hated by Pink, asides from that she is almost uncertain what she desires. All she knows in this situation is that things have not happened as they should have and now she has been caught. 

It’s when P!Steven speaks to her however that a switch gets flicked. As I explained earlier in the post, Spinel fits rather well within the box of abandonment rage. She is a character-based within insecurity that reacts with aggression when she feels threatened as a way of protecting herself. 

In these few short panels, P!Steven not only displays disapproval of her, but his change instance implies aggression immediately making her revert to a more defensive state. 

This is what causes her change in tone and ultimately the change in her behavior. She is no longer remorseful because she was caught, she’s being rejected again, by the same gem again. 

Adding a cherry on top, upon realizing that it wasn’t even who she perceived to be she feels tricked and made a fool of. Somehow, he wasn’t Pink. He hadn’t reverted into his beginning state, no, that pest that kept her from obtaining what she selfishly desired was still present. Her resentment for that craving boils back into her insecurities and feeds the explosive desires beneath it. Rather than apologizing further she takes hold of these emotional shelters and dives into what she feels the most comfortable with, her anger. 

Which brings us to today’s page, where we see that beginning to be acted upon. Surely she can fix this, at the very least resolve that judgmental stare that lingers on her. She can make things better for herself.

She won’t let herself be rejected again. 

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

Sources:

[Insecurity and Abandonment] [Abandonment Rage] [catathymic definition]

[SU AU Gone Wrong Comic Master Post]

#SU AU Gone Wrong #SU Gone Wrong #Steven Universe #character analysis #Spinel Character Break down #steven universe the movie #Spud speaks #long post #Spinel Abandonment #Trigger warning #TW: Character death #Tw: blood #Tw: stabbing #SU AU Gone Wrong Comic Analysis

[luque-moreau]

y'know i think its about time ive refurbished my psychonauts headcanons/theories

what??? me??? rewriting my psychonauts headcanons in a more comprehensible and informed way???

ye

alright, i think everyone knows what im talking about, by headcanons i mean headcanon as in singular, and as singular, i mean my "raz is somewhere on the spectrum of adhd".

so lets just get into it:

what is adhd actually?

adhd by definition stands for attention deficit hyperactive/hyperfocus disorder (yes, let me get into the details in just a sec). it is a nerodevelopmental disorder that is almost completely reliant on genetic factors, however conditions during pregnancy can sometimes contribute to certain aspects of how adhd manifests itself.

long story short, people with adhd have a smaller frontal lobe, and therefore less dopamine in general (even though yes, it is more complicated than that).

theres also a little bit of "chicken or the egg first" goin on here, certain behaviors or personality tendencies can also affect how adhd is presented in one individual to the next, however its still not clear if that is because it is an accommodating for a certain thought process or if someones experiences and personality shape their symptoms of adhd entirely. its a very blurry line, and the answer is different for everybody.

hyperactive type

hyperactive type is probably the closest to most stereotypical depictions of adhd, think the 5 year old whos parents brush off their child’s hyperactivity as something that will “go with age”. however, this isn’t only present in children, adults with adhd have to deal with a constant need for stimuli to make up for the lack of dopamine their current activity is providing them. this results in someone fidgeting frequently in repetitive or predictable motions, unable to hold attention to a specific task for long periods of time, or many other of the symptoms associated with adhd.(i sadly cannot provide more information in this area, i am not knowledgeable enough to...)

hyperfocus type

hyperfocus type is a tricky one, it can look like the complete opposite of adhd in theory. hyperfocus can look similar to special interests or hyperfixation, a great deal of time and knowledge dedicated to a very particular thing (although it is important to note that even though hyperfixations and special interests are incredibly similar, special interests is a term more typically used within autistic-circles, and isnt really the best word to use if you happen to be neurotypical). Think of maybe that kid who knows all the cool animal facts and won’t shut up about them. Its because certain trains of thought or activities might release more dopamine then others, so to get more of that dopamine, someone of hyperfocus type will be mentally unable to stop thinking or doing a very specific task or topic. this results in someone seemingly always spacing out, unable to change subjects or changing subjects too fast or with little to no correlation, or being completely unable to have enough motivation to do simple things.

personally i tend to fall under the category of hyperfocus myself rather than hyperactive, however the two are not mutually exclusive, its more common to find people with both types rather than just one. even myself, i might exhibit more tendencies to place me under the label of hyperfocus, but that doesn’t mean i don’t have any symptoms of the hyperactive type. its my personality that affects my mannerisms, which then makes certain aspects of my symptoms more or less apparent. Thats because im an INTP-T, i just tend to be more to myself and constantly in a state of thinking abstractly. I have trouble communicating and even sometimes recognizing my needs, and get to a point where im unable to do the simplest of things without feeling emotionally drained. Thats just my experience though, everybodys different. 

so what the fuck does this have to do with raz then?

well lets think about it, rather than have it just be me projecting myself onto a comfort character:

raz finds issue with connecting to kids his age

lets be honest. none of the campers really like raz that much. or at least some do the bare minimum to be try and be polite. it doesn’t seem like any of the other campers besides dogen, whos also socially outcasted, are really fond of raz. lili might like him, but that can definitely be interpreted as curiosity in someone new and different from the norm. It might not be that the kids despise him, but nobodys opinionated enough to care whether he is around or not.

social isolation is one of the most damning things i had to experience from an early age and still feel even today. there is a sense of feeling that you are different among your peers, whether that is a good thing or bad thing. it feels difficult to interact with other people you are not familiar with, and can really stunt you emotionally and socially. from a really early age, theres somethin in you that knows something is very different between the experiences of your peers compared to your own, and it can feel incredibly isolating.

raz and his borderline stupidity

time to get real again. raz is a fucking idiot. at least in the sense that sometimes his decisions seem incredibly spontaneous and not really thought through. he runs from home to attend a summer camp, not really thinking about the logistics of how he will get there, how the staff will react, how long its gonna take for his parent to find him, and so on. it doesn’t seem like he over or underestimates his abilities, he just goes for it without considering. that doesnt seem like the smartest thing to do, even though we know hes incredibly intelligent when it comes to larger, abstract situations. its the little details that he misses, small minuet things that seem unimportant that he overlooks, which can sometimes make things harder for him in the end.

i think its obvious that impulsivity is one symptom of adhd. however i cannot stress how difficult it is to think at supersonic speed and still feel incredibly stupid. i mean, thinking faster doesn’t inherently mean you will have better ideas, you can always be stupider faster, but being able to realize stupid mistakes or inconsistencies in your own thought process is annoying as hell. it feels like every time you try to recognize the issue, fix it, and move forward, you only end up not paying attention to another issue that gets bigger and more annoying than the first. Its always two steps forward, one step back, constantly making the same mistakes even though you try everything in your power to avoid them or grow as a person. The simplest of facts, ideas, or just things to remember end up being forgotten, and once youre reminded of them you remember them and feel like an idiot. however, arbitrary things and complex issues are much easier to digest and remember for me, things like history and the whole blame game charade of it all, biology and how every minuet thing has a greater impact on others and intertwines with every single factor of its environment, philosophy and theorizing why we think the way we do and what can be changed. but oh shit, im a dumbass i forgot to do my laundry. shit. god fuckin dammit.

empathy over sympathy

one of the basic themes of psychonauts is empathy. simple as that. raz goes around into other peoples brains, and tries to help them as much as he can, even if his efforts are not always successful in the way he intended. he never demonizes anyone to the point of unredeemability, and can empathize and understand other peoples perspectives. hes open to new ideas and

although some studies out there theorize that empathy is impaired due to adhd, from my perspective i feel like that is simply not true. if anything, i would say the sensitivity that comes with adhd (hypersensitivity) only enhances that empathy. i could definitely see social disconnection being one of the reasons it might appear that someone with adhd is less empathetic, however i would doubt that adhd would impair a persons empathy. adhd tends to also entail heightened emotions, this doesn’t necessarily mean a more outwardly emotional person, however it definitely shifts a persons perspective of their own emotions as well as others. the concept of hypersensitivity also completely contradicts the idea of people with adhd be less empathetic.

miscommunication and disconnect

sigh, the dad thing. yup. raz has that very iffy relationship with his dad at the beginning of the game which is eventually resolved. very abruptly, might i add. but thats not what this is about, thats a topic for another day. miscommunication seemed to be the root of the issue, however we only get razs side of the story. not to mention the severity of his claims and willingness to seemingly drop everything afterwards. kinda sus, ngl.

alright this ones a doosey. this, i feel, cements my theory pretty well. like i mentioned before, social disconnect and hypersensitivity are side effects of the symptoms of adhd.  this means people with adhd are highly more likely to either misinterpret someones words or actions if those in question are not completely transparent, its because they tend to overthink and interpenetrate responses with too much thinkin n such. the social disconnect makes a whole lot of it worse, it can just pile on top of already established feelings of inadequacy and isolation. and oversharing as a poor coping mechanism isnt an exclusively adhd related thing, it tends to be shared within similar neruodevelopmental disorders such as autism or even ptsd. i find it incredibly easy to disconnect myself from my own emotions at times and think critically at what i feel and how it affects me. which is a bad thing. if i dont acknowledge my emotions like they are my own for too long, everything falls apart. its not fun. but, that disconnect can make talking about certain more traumatic experiences or instances that had deep personal effects on my life and development as a person much easier to just share. and not always in an appropriate manner, comedic opportunity can be   v  e  r  y   enticing. this also explains why raz might have been able to drop everything about his dad after he apologized. he didn’t really, he probably still suffers just as much afterwards as he did before. but he probably wont realize that for awhile, since logically, the issue has been resolved. long story short, he has not had the time to cope, and to put that off he detaches himself from those feelings. w a c k

of course i have other reasons why i feel like raz could potentially have adhd, or at least be accurately represented in headcanon with adhd, some minor mentions being:

he uses his camp map as a journal to track his in-game progress, list of goals, and notes/snip-its of information. writing down information on some form of notepad or book is a common tool used by kids and even adults with adhd to help them keep track of minuet, individual tasks. its just using a planner, but with a bit more information. 

just from my personal perspective, the lengths raz goes to pursue his dream of being a psychonaut feel more like a special interest/hyper fixation sort of thing. he can jump between having genuine conversations with his fellow campers and just exploring the campground, to investing himself entirely in obtaining his goal, even when it seems almost impossible. thats some serious dedication to one very specific thing, y’know?

this one isnt as solid as the other but: m̶̖̰̯̫̍͝o̵̦͖̟͈̹̤̥̝͐̿̄̀̀̎̓ņ̶̛̭̠̐̊̆̍͝ķ̸̝͈̺̙̰̊e̶͉͚̼̅̔͗̂͐̍̕͝͝y̶̦̖̼͖̪͎̝̖̠̐̑͋̾̔̑́͐͘ ̵̢̲̘͎͉̔̀͒̄͌͊̀͌̀m̴̲̫̮̪̖̍̐͆̕͜͝ͅả̶͙͚͗n̶̗̳̩̙̘̼̦̦͇͝ ̷̡̨̡͔̗͕̘͍̥̑͒̎̐̃g̴͔̔̈̅̐̏́̌̔̈́́o̶̥̱̽̆̂͌̀͗ ̶̝̩͙͕͛́s̴̛͓̥̲̜͓͚̣̠̆̓̌͌p̶̜̹̯̦̫̯̣̎͐̽̉̾ḙ̴͇̬͑̈́̐̈́͘͠ͅȅ̶̡̗̞̩͔̫̪͈͑̓͗d̵̠͇͎̜͔͇͒̈́́̀̅̈́̒͘y̸̡̦̠̻̖̥̿ͅ. yeah, its the most generalizing reason but look, hes moving nonstop the entire game, climbing and running around the entire goddamn place wrecking havoc. a bit of imp can be found in most people with adhd if you look hard enough.

so thanks for reading this far i guess? im oversharing even right now with this, like an i d i o t but yknow what i dont want to read the great gatsby rn, so ive got nothin better to do. who knows, maybe the second game will give us more info to either support/discredit this theory? gotta wait for pn2 i guess

:^)

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #theory #headcanon #razputin aquato #this is real biased #isnt it

[lelenoir]

pairing: best friend!xiao dejun x reader

contents: angst, fluff if u squint, time travelling, character deaths, deal with the devil, highschool au, demon!hendery

word count: 3.1k

prompt:

"magkahawak ang ating kamay,

at walang kamalay malay,

na tinuruan mo ang puso ko,

na umibig ng tunay"

note: thank you to @jenoir for reading the first horrible draft of this fic 💕

last installment of anthology: the series

It was during prom when Xiaojun gathered up enough courage to tell you about how he felt. He could still remember that day oh so vividly, he could almost feel the weight and warmth of your arms perched on his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. He could smell the scent of your hair just by his chin as you lay your head on his chest, bodies swaying to the beat of an unfamiliar love song. It was moments like these where he couldn't believe he had outlived such a phenomenon. He felt his heart pound in his chest, a rapid pace at such a loud volume. He wondered how you didn't hear it. If you did, then he was glad you never told him.

His arms laid comfortably around your waist, the contact burning his skin. In fact, he felt his whole body burn. Right there, under the dim lights of your school's gymnasium with the majority of the student population surrounding you. It almost felt surreal. The way your bodies stood close and just the sensation of having you with him. It was an insatiable feeling. A thirst that only you could quench.

"Y/n?" He spoke up. The call snapping you back to reality as you looked up at him, a hum ringing out of your throat as a response. He could feel his breath get snatched away at the sight of you. His eyes---an already dead giveaway on what he was about to do---looked at you with so much love. You didn't think you deserve them. "I---"

You pressed your palm abruptly on his lips, cutting him off. "Let's just dance, okay?" You see him nod his head as you retrieved your hand and put them on his waist, holding him even closer than before as your face returns to rest on his chest. His breath hitching a bit at the proximity but not having the intention of pulling away.

That was the moment Xiaojun knew what love was. It was the feeling of your arms around him, pulling him closer until he was only a breath away. It was the sound of your soft voice, humming along the unfamiliar song as if it was yours. It was the addictive smell of your vanilla scented hair that wafted through the air. And lastly, it was the way his arms fit perfectly around you like a puzzle piece. Perfectly cut to match his edges. At that moment, he knew where he belonged; by your side.

He felt content just at the thought that you weren't going anywhere. He lived knowing he was breathing the same air as you and seeing the same set of stars in the night sky. If you'd ask for the moon then he'd gladly give it to you no matter what. If you told him to count the stars then he'll stay up every night just to conquer the impossible feat. You could ask him the most difficult and strenuous of tasks and he'd gladly do them. All for you.

That night he drove you home, a mellow song in a different language played in the background as he maneuvered the car to your familiar subdivision. His hand lay loose on the clutch while the other held the steering wheel firmly, spinning it easily as his eyes remained fixed on the road and nothing else. All his courage seemed to dwindle away from him now as a comforting yet awkward silence filled the space.

It was in the instance he passed by the old park you used to go to when he felt your warm hand on his. He turned his attention to you for a moment, only to see you looking out the window and avoiding his gaze. He shifted his eyes back to the front as he clenched on the steering wheel a bit. A few seconds passed when he decided to gulp down his doubts and move his hands to intertwine with yours. He felt his breath get stuck in his throat as you returned the action, clutching on him like he does with you.

"Magkahawak ang ating kamay,

At walang kamalay-malay,"

A luxurious comfort he could never seem to get used to. The sudden boom of electrifying feelings sparking around him at your touch. Another turn and he realised you were so close to going home. The surge of euphoria leaving him before he could even dwell on it.

By the time he stopped infront of your front porch---his car jerked slightly as he turned the engine off, cutting the music midway---he felt a wave of small regret. The both of you now sitting in pure quietness. Your hands still held on to one another as if none of you wanted to let go. He didn't want to let you go. But the night was slowly fading away and you were running out of time.

The sigh that rang from your lips felt like it was echoing around the car as you finally turned to look at him. Eyes wide and filled with stars, Xiaojun wouldn't mind getting lost in them.

The small sad smile in your face confused him a bit but the feeling of your thumb drawing circles on his skin distracted him from ever questioning it. He let himself drown in the feeling. As long as it's you.

"Goodnight, Jun." You whispered.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow?"

You never answered his question, only smiling and planting a small kiss on his cheek before getting out of the car. Dazed, Xiaojun could only watch as you ran back to your house.

Your figure stopped as you reached the door and looked back to him. A small wave from both of you and you were gone. Swallowed by the red door of your family home.

He snapped himself back to reality, turning the key to let the car roar. He felt his cheeks grow flush as he noticed one house turn their light on at the loud sound but it was mostly because of what just happened. He turned the radio on, humming along the tune as he sped away. A hopeful glint present in his sharp eyes. The sheer feeling of happiness he was experiencing remaining to be uncontainable.

"La la la la, la la, la la, la la la…"

The next day, you were gone. The house he took you to the night before was now stripped out of every piece of furniture he was accustomed to. Not a single sign of being inhabited left as he peered through the window. When he asked a woman passing by, he was greeted with dreaded news.

"Oh them? They moved out last night."

That night, the news spoke of a fatal car crash. A drunk driver skidded across the road, pummeling towards a car occupied by a family of three. The anchorman told them only one casualty was resulted from this accident while the others involved only caught minor injuries. Your name was sprawled across the screen as the unlucky victim. Which, in turn, made Xiaojun's heart drop.

His eyes went wide in disbelief as his mother attempted to walk towards him to comfort him. The moment he felt her touch on his shoulders made him jolt up from his seat. Tears brimmed the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill as he shook his head in denial.

"Jun…" his mother started. But he couldn't take it. Couldn't take another moment in that house. That room where you used to snuggle up to him during your countless movie nights. Where you'd cry your eyes out to him. Or laugh your head off at some cheesy joke he said. That room where so many moments with you were made. Even the sweater he wore reminded him of you and how you used to steal it from him back then.

He couldn't take it. The idea of you never coming back. The thought of never seeing you again only filled his mind with remorse and pure regret. In response, His legs bolted himself away, far away from that dreadful house. He couldn't stand the sight of its walls when every time he does, he sees you.

The air felt colder than usual that night. He could remember it as if he was watching a movie. His legs gave out once he reached an unfamiliar clearing. His increasing heart beat distracted him from the pain for a moment as he panted for air. It wasn't long for the tears to come back. He could feel it brimming the sides of his temples. A few drops of sweat stinging his eyes a bit as he defeatedly knelt down on the dewy grass.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him snap up. A man in a black suit stood in the middle of the forest. His eyes glowed gold and his skin was as pale as snow. Black veins stemmed down his neck to the exposed skin of his hands. The fingers sharpened and black as well.

"Xiao Dejun," the stranger called out. His voice was as smooth as honey, a huge contrast to his unusual and frightening appearance. "I am here to offer you a deal."

Xiaojun sniffed, pulling the sleeve of his clothes to wipe up the last of his tears. "W-what?"

"I am here to offer you a deal." The man repeated more firmly this time, stepping closer and granting Xiaojun the chance to see him fully. "A once in a lifetime opportunity, to bring back---" the stranger lifted his hand up as gold glowing dots appeared from his nails and, like magic, an outline of your face appeared. Xiaojun couldn't help but stare at the image, making the man smirk. "---what you've lost." With a wave of his hand, you were gone.

"What are you?"

"Just a friend who wants to help you. A simple wanderer of this world, just like you. Except, blessed with immeasurable power which I used to help hopeless mortals like you." He answered coolly, stepping closer to Xiaojun until he was merely circling him. "Of course, my kind has been known as many names: fallen angels, monsters, ghosts… demons."

Xiaojun felt his breath hitch. This didn't go unnoticed by the other.

"Although I prefer it if you called me Hendery, it has a nice ring to it. Still, don't misunderstand. Us demons aren't as bad as the movies portray. Don't get me wrong, we do provide our services to you mortals in exchange for something valuable of yours but---and this is one hard but---we only give it to the most desperate of souls. Kind of like yourself, Mr. Xiao." A dark and mischievous glint was present in his eyes as he stared down Xiaojun.

"Does this mean I can have her back?" He asked, voice timid but full of determination.

"Who? The dead girl? I'm afraid that settles a very big price to pay." Hendery answered, examining his nails as if to seem indifferent to the boy.

"I-I'll give you anything." He stuttered. A devilish smirk formed on Hendery's features as he lifted his gaze to the boy.

"You see, Mr. Xiao, a mortal soul is one of the G-man's many divine gifts. Most celestial beings even see it as the most precious. It's simply irreplaceable." He explained.

"So?"

"So?" He repeated it like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. He exhaled in exaggeration, looking at Xiaojun like he was the dumbest creature he'd ever come across with. "The only thing that can replace a mortal soul is another mortal soul, you stupid fuck." Xiaojun rolled his eyes at his words. "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for one girl?"

Xiaojun gulped. Is he? He thought back to all the times you've helped him. He remembered the day you first met. By the swings, in your old preschool's playground. He remembered the time he fractured his leg and you were the only one outside his family that came to visit. You drew flowers on his cast and he couldn't help but admire how pretty they were. That time you lost your dog and he was the first one you came to. That was the first time he saw you cry so much. His heart sunk inside his chest. He realised that day that he didn't like seeing you cry. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because of the unpleasant feeling in his chest of seeing someone cry but thinking about it now, it hurt him to see you get hurt. And lastly, that night. The warmth. The feeling. And just the sensation of being around you. He missed holding your hand. The moment felt like it happened years ago but the imprint, the ghost of your skin on his, felt so new and impressionable. He could still feel your lips on his cheek.

"Yes." He answered with conviction. "I am."

Impossibly, Hendery's smirk grew wider, eyes glowing brighter with it. "Then I guess we have a deal to settle. Tell me, Mr. Xiao, what is your wish?" He lifted his hand out to shake.

Xiaojun gulped, taking his cold hand with his. Hissing as he felt the demon's sharp nails digging into his skin, drawing a small trail of blood. "I want to save y/n from dying."

"And in exchange?"

Xiaojun took a deep breath, helping himself go through the wicked pain. "I give you my soul."

Hendery knelt down on the ground, his free hand drawing symbols on the dirt. Once he was finished, the grip he held on Xiaojun's hand loosened, allowing the blood to drop on what he drew.

Xiaojun watched as the symbols came alive right in front of his eyes. The stars and unfamiliar font swirling around him as both him and the demon were engulfed in a tornado of red flame.

The heat suffocating and the surroundings hurting his eyes the more he looked. A deafening screech was heard around him, followed by the sounds of car honks and a girl screaming. He heard the song playing again as a mixture of sounds invaded his brain.

"Sana noon pa man ay sinabi na sa iyo,

Kahit hindi na uso ay ito lang ang alam ko"

The singer's voice never faded from his head as he now heard the sound of his own.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow?" He opened his eyes to see you right in front of him. Your eyes glowed under the dim light of his car. Like the last time, you never answered him. Smiling once again before planting a kiss on his cheek. Only this time, he wasn't going to let the moment pass him by. His hand reached your wrist before you could even turn around. His breaths came in pants as he savored your presence. He could feel the tears gloss his eyes as he looked at you.

"Jun, are you okay?" God, how he missed the sound of his name on your lips. He snapped himself back to the present.

"I-I'm fine… I just missed you." He said, nodding along as the tears fell freely across his cheek.

You chuckled, "I haven't even left yet."

His hand went back to yours, intertwining them like how it once was. "Then stay."

"I can't." You replied, holding back the dam of emotions you've been carrying. The sigh you let out became shaky as he continued to stare. "I c-can't."

His eyes pleaded---begged you to stay just a little longer. "I love you."

That was all it took to make you break down your walls. The waters seeping through your well built barrier.

"Please." His voice was desperate. Both hands now grabbing on yours, pulling them to his chest. "Just for a little while."

You couldn't say no to him. You could never. But you had to. You had to and you know it. The clock was ticking and before you could say anything the car started.

"Jun?" You called out, watching helplessly as the car roared to life. The hand he held on you shifted the clutch to drive. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping you safe." He answered.

"No Jun, you don't understand---"

"No y/n! Don't go. Don't move away." He turned his body to face you, his hand maneuvering the wheel. "Stay."

You held his gaze longer than you intended to and you regretted it deeply as a truck suddenly hit Xiaojun's side of the car. The impact caused the car to spin around the air before crashing to the ground.

You coughed once the vehicle settled, your focus turning to Xiaojun who was groaning loudly in pain. You quickly crawled out of the car and to the side of your best friend. The window glass was already non-existent as you pulled him out of his seat. His hair stuck to the side of his bloody face while his eyes fought to stay awake.

"H-hey stay with me, Jun." You pleaded, cradling his head on your arms as you desperately kept him conscious. "I'm right here, okay? I-I'm not going anywhere anymore. Please just---just stay awake for me."

Even with dying he could still bring himself to smile softly at you. "A-as long as you're okay." He whispered. Voice already strained with death as he reached up to caress your cheek. "I love you."

You sobbed harder at his repeated confession. Your hand held on to the one he had on your cheek. "I love you too. So much."

He chuckled, the action making him wince. So this was it? He thought to himself, vision already blurry as he watched you cry. His breathing became erratic. He found it more difficult to breathe now as he tried to stay a bit longer until finally it was all too much.

Dying, for Xiaojun, wasn't like what he expected. He didn't see a big bright light. Nor did he have an out of body experience of his soul being pushed out of his being. His life didn't flash before his eyes. The last thing he ever saw was you but after that didn't see a thing. Instead, everything was dark. Really, really dark.

His hand fell from your cheek, laying limp beside him as his eyes slowly screwed shut. And that was the end for Xiao Dejun. It was always supposed to be.

"I told you to save him." You said against the cold wind. Out of thin air, Hendery appeared next to you.

"The boy made a more interesting offer. You shouldn't have stayed in the car with him." He replied, nonchalantly taking a cigarette off the pack in his pants and lighting them with his finger. He took a whiff of the stick before blowing it out. "Sorry, kid. A deal's a deal." He gripped your shoulders at what he assumed to be comforting before walking away.

The sound of the radio distorted but still recognizable as you held Xiaojun close, crying against him like you did the first time.

"La la la la, la la, la la, la la la…"

our hands held each other

without any of us realizing

that you've taught my heart

how to truly love

replay album?

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