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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

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Peter comforting Tony's daughter at the funerals please I need this

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

No one who was present will ever forget the horrific scream that came from you when Pepper told you the tragic news: your father, Tony Stark, was dead.

You hadn’t been able to say goodbye to him. He had already taken his last breath when you arrived on the scene. All you were able to do was crumble by his side and cry all the tears in your body until someone forcefully took you away.

A few sleepless nights later, you stood by Pepper and Morgan on the wooden deck, watching the wreath floating adrift on the water. Proof that Tony Stark has a heart, it reads.

Beside you, Morgan didn't seem to understand what was going on, why everyone was dressed in black and watching an arrangement of flowers float away. Mostly, she didn’t understand why her dad was not there. It was sad to see.

Happy was right behind you, followed by Rhodey and Steve, then May and Peter. Peter. He was holding his tears, pained from losing his mentor.

When the wreath was no longer in sight, people slowly dissipated, heading back inside the Stark residence. You stayed, unable to move your feet, your eyes were glued on the water before you. Why did you leave me? Why did you sacrifice yourself?

You didn’t hear the footsteps behind you as Peter approached. You and him hadn’t spoken since the last battle.

He cleared his throat. ‘’Hi. I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m sorry for your loss, Y/N.’’ You didn’t turn around, but Peter knew you were listening. ‘’Your dad was an admirable person. I’m not talking about his sacrifice. He was— He’s been an excellent mentor to me. And, in a way, a great father figure in my life.’’ Peter breathed in. He was about to tell you something he hadn’t told anyone. Not even his best friend Ned, who he always tells everything to. ‘’I was with him when he died. He told me—'' Peter stopped himself, feeling choked by the emotions in his throat.

When you arrived on the scene, you didn’t acknowledge Peter or anyone else around. Your eyes were focused on your father laying on the ground, unalive.

''Want to know what he told me?’’ Peter continued, not waiting for your answer. ‘’He…he said to go to you and feel the feelings he once forbid us to have.''

After a lot of deep thinking, Tony had come to the realization that forbidding your relationship had been wrong of him. He didn’t like it, but Peter was a good guy. He was kind, caring, honorable and very protective of the ones he loved. If there was anyone Tony could trust to take good care of his daughter, it was Peter.

Slowly, your eyes traveled to Peter. They welled with tears again, but this time Peter was there to wrap his arms around you, pull you against him and provide you comfort. You buried your face in his chest, staining — and ruining — his shirt with your mascara-tears, but it was the last of his worries.

Your slim fingers grabbed his white button up, clutching at it as you cried.

Your father’s words meant so much to you — you and Peter. You remembered the look of rage on his face when he caught you kissing in the lobby. It had just been a simple kiss goodbye, but Tony reacted like he had caught you doing something compromising in bed. He had yelled at Peter and banned him from the tower for weeks with a threat of kicking him out of the Avengers if he were to kiss you again.

Like any angsty teenager, you told him you hated him and blasted Taylor Swift’s Love Story in your bedroom.

You never thought he would change his mind about Peter, but Tony Stark was a surprising man.

Peter kissed the top of your head, holding you tight.

—

Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife @amithesimpoffandoms @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation @aabananaa @starrrslove @angeliod @nmedina8611 @1stevelacyfan @yourfavdummy @laylasbunbunny

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!peter parker

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beauspot · 1 year

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ok i’ve had time to sit with this viewing of wakanda forever and im only going to try to add things i haven’t spoken about before UNLESS my opinion on something has changed. i do have namuri and okoyuma brainrot so excuse any shipper nonsense you don’t care about 🥴

L O N G P O S T 👇🏾

Small Details I Noticed:

as t’challa was being carried to the city of the dead after the funeral two wakandan ships cross in the sky like they’re doing the wakandan salute

when ramonda meets with the united nations she wears purple and gold symbolizing how she’s “taking care of business” like killmonger

the color red is associated with tradition in wakanda and everything new is associated with the color the blue and blue typically is associated with what element? water

aneka and ayo are so cute 😙

the shift from background music to it being diegetic sirens was masterful

i couldn’t figure out why namor said shuri was the first surface dweller in talokan but he had a suit. then i realized duh it was from the start of the movie 🥴

Why does no one go for the Talokanil masks

t’challa falls in love with a river tribe girl, ramonda finds comfort by sources of water I don’t find it coincidental at ALL her whole family has ties to water.

every time he issues a threat Namor is looking at Ramonda but when he sets the shell down to ask them to call? he looks at shuri.

shuri wears white while she’s working in her lab because she’s still in a mourning period.

shuri’s tribe wears red namor is represented(partially) by blue and what color does shuri wear when she’s taken to his domain? purple.

I JUST REALIZED T’CHALLA JR IS THE KID THAT WALKED UP TO RAMONDA

NAMOR IS NOT THE VILLAIN. IMMEDIATELY AFTER HE TOLD SHURI THE SURFACE WOULD ATTACK THEY CUT TO A SCENE OF THEM PLANNING TO ATTACK WAKANDA

attuma is down horrendous he ain’t even join the fight in wakanda he just went looking for okoye. STAND UP.

namor and shuri pausing to stare at each other before she shoots cause they really don’t want to fight 😐

people keep saying ross’ scenes weren’t necessary and yet fully missed that namor was proved right by his scenes

N’Jadaka TOLD YALL ramonda gave her life to save riri. (doesn’t justify namor’s actions but don’t take away her agency)

shuri’s panther ears on her helmet point down like she’s ready to pounce whereas t’challa’s pointed up showing he was docile

shuri’s actions fully show us namor’s origin and how he ends up as adamant and stubborn as he is. their hatred turned them into warmongers shuri is just able to stop herself before she does something truly irreversible.

namor is such a loser he really thought shuri was finna call him on his shellphone.

in the midst of everything she remembers holding hands with namor as they watched the sunrise…hm.

Random Thoughts I Had During the Movie:

That chairman who introduced Ramonda was fine as hell

That french lady shook her head like her men ain’t break into that lab that’s wild.

Attuma’s first entrance (on the ship) had me grinning from ear to ear like “HEY BIG DADDY!”

Namor can really be brutal as fuck. The way those agents were screaming as their helicopter was spun into the ocean was scary as hell! (i’m still on his side tho ✋🏾🫱🏾liik’ik talokan)

hi anderson cooper!

i wonder why ramonda cut her hair

when shuri told her mother K’uk’ulkan was covered in vibranium he looked at her like “oh so you looked me over?” 😁

the jibari are hilarious

mbakus very silly but he has a big heart and is clearly very wise

nah okoye is right the midnight angel suit is u g l y

i cannot fully express how annoying i find de fontaine

riri my darling baby girl i love you

okoye don’t look ashy and i’m tired of them coming at my good sis

okoye is so funny 😭

the car chase scenes are always the best in these movies

i need the wakanda forever script

attuma GROWLED at okoye just kiss already

i like that attuma got his own whale and everybody else gotta share

ross is such a smol little guy who’s scared of him 🥴

angela was acting her ass off we know this but you know who else? danai. yup. i should watch the walking dead

everybody in this movie fine as hell

nakia should be in more avengers movies

nakia grew them dreads fast

their shaman was fine too everybody is HOT

why is de fontaines hair purple she looks twelve

if namor got in my face like that i’d kiss him idk

shuri fully forgot she was wearing that man’s bracelet until it was pointed out to her

mbaku’s face when he saw that whale underwater took me out.

see namor dodging shuri’s fire makes no sense he literally stands still when he’s being fired at initially and then hits the ship fire out of the air with his spear.

riri don’t listen cause ramonda definitely told her ass to run

i just-don’t get namor sometimes because he fully could have killed the scientist and shuri and he clearly doesn’t care about eternal war he just DOESN’T DO IT.

Nakia’s funeral outfit is beautiful

i will fully admit that the beauty of tenoch blinded me to namor’s brutality. that man is vicious.

aneka is so funny

iron heart has such a cute anime suit i kinda love it and hate it

we’ll probably see a different one since she can’t take it home though.

there’s something so silly about the way shuri and mbaku start to arm wrestle

the way he said “princess” and stared at her on the ship…he wanted to fuck so bad omg.

the lighting when shuri gets stabbed is insane, it becomes less saturated and green and i really like it 😗

namor’s little butt jiggle as he fell?? lol

the dissenting wakandans and talokanil are going to be a problem moving forward. they’ve each lost people and they’re not gonna let that slide.

WHY SOMEBODY BOO WHEN ANEKA KISSED AYOS HEAD. FUCK OFF HOMOPHOBE

Final Thoughts:

I really love this movie obviously but i think Tenoch being hot kinda blinded me to how cruel Namor can really be. Cause the whole time i’m thinking, he’s hot and he’s right i’m on his side. In general he doesn’t use excessive force and he gives people ample opportunities to stop fucking with him before he really goes off tho.

I still stick with my assessment that Namor isn’t a villain and you’ve missed the point if you think he is, that his actions weren’t justified but i understand he needs to protect his people so it’s not without reason.

I don’t understand why people think shuri shouldn’t have been the black panther okoye is in the dora, nakia is a spy who else was gonna be the panther?

i don’t know exactly why but this movie excites me and i am growing to love it more than any other marvel movie. this is most likely the last time ill see it in theatres since i don’t want to make myself bored with it but i’m really thankful to ryan and co for putting this out they did chad justice

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aspen-in-the-forest · 1 year

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Ahsoka Tano is six years old and she has the most scars out of everyone in her class.

She shows them off proudly when people ask. The one on her knee is from climbing the trees in the temple gardens, she says. A thin white line wraps around her forearm from a mistake in saber training. Various scrapes and cuts cover her hands, and she rolls up the sleeves of her robes to show them off. They are badges of honor.

At ten years old, she is placed in the advanced saber classes with the older students. She meets a girl named Barriss Offee, the padawan of a high Master of the Jedi Counsel. Barriss is everything Ahsoka would expect her to be. She is calm, yet stern, and a master of soresu. She is the ideal padawan, a role model for the younglings that look up to her. She is everything Ahsoka wants to be.

Ahsoka is fourteen when the war breaks out.. 212 Jedi fight in the arena on Geonosis, fighting and dying for their republic. Ahsoka attends the funerals, as do all the other padawans. She watches the pyres bearing the crest of the Jedi order burn as the bodies return to the force from which they came. She scans the crowd until she finds Barriss, one of the 30 survivors of the massacre. She has her head down, firelight glinting off of the tear tracks on her cheeks.

A month later Ahsoka is sent out, apprenticed to the newly knighted Anakin Skywalker. She wasn’t stupid. She had heard all the rumors: that Skywalker was the chosen one, that he had joined the temple at the time he became a padawan, that he would save the order from darkness, and that Anakin Skywalker would end the war. She adjusted her saber on her belt as the gunship took her down to Christophsis. She cooly walked down the ramp and introduced herself.

Anakin Skywalker was… underwhelming.

He didn’t command her to silence with his voice, or stand proud at attention. He slouched, and he whined often. If this is the Hero Without Fear, Ahsoka thinks, then he will need all the help I can give him.

Ahsoka is in battle the day she turns fifteen. They are pushing the separatists back toward the northern end of the city on an occupied planet in the outer rim. Ahsoka slashes and cuts, ducking under droids; weaving in and out of the fray. Her free arm drifts far from her body, covered in bandages from all the times she has forgotten to cover it. At the end of the day, she receives a gift: materials for a new lightsaber and a promised trip to Ilum.

She adapts to her new lightsaber quickly, like a limb she was always missing. Soon, she is spinning and slashing so quickly that it is impossible for the untrained eye to tell limb from saber. She throws herself into battle with all the ferocity of the akul whose teeth now decorate her headdress. It is a mark of honor, she reminds herself, and preens with pride.

Ahsoka Tano is sixteen years old and she has the most scars out of everyone in her class. She no longer remembers the now faded scar on her knee from climbing in the temple garden. She can’t tell you where her new scars come from either. On rare occasions between battles, she returns to the temple to study. Her classmates stare at her; revere her. She is the padawan of the Hero Without Fear, she has fought beside the great Jedi masters, and she can beat any one of her classmates in a fight.

They notice she’s changed. Where she was once unsure, there is now cool confidence in herself and her comrades. She no longer boasts or shows off to her classmates. She is extraordinarily kind to the younger padawans, who all look up to her.

She still drums her fingers on her desk, looking for all the world as she would rather be doing more important things than sitting in a classroom. She still spaces out when others are talking to her, but everyone has noticed the way she is quick to draw her sabers, always sitting on the edge of her seat, always looking past her classmates as if searching the horizon for threats. Yes, Ahsoka Tano has changed.

She is still sixteen when she thinks she loses everything.

She is seventeen when she does.

Ahsoka Tano is eighteen years old and she stands vigil for a home she will never be able to return to.

#please excuse my grammar #I’m using commas like salt #there’s never enough until there’s suddenly way too much #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #ahsoka tano #barriss offee #anakin skywalker #jedi order #drabble #writing practice

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deadsnothere · 1 year

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End of the barrel

Synopsis - Instead of Lockwood and the end of Fairfax's gun it's Alias?

Masterlist

WARNINGS! - Involves threats with a gun, talk of experimenting on people, and death of a family member.

Request - No! BUT PLEASE REQUEST!!!

Word Count - 2k

Speak Ali! - I started writing this two weeks ago finished it at an craft fair for my aunt. I'm dying i'm so exhausted.

I, Alias Kipps, am not scared of death.

I've been surrounded by it since I was young, I've been to over 20 funeral’s in the 17 years of my life. I've seen and witnessed the most terrifying deaths from touching sources as someone else's test subject.

so when Fairfax held a gun out, with me at the end of the barrel, I could say I almost felt free.

This situation was interesting to say the least, Lockwood was hiding behind a table along with Lucy, while George was hidden behind a chair. Hopefully, None of them had been seen when Fairfax himself caught me. “You know it's dangerous to be “alone” in a house like this, Alias, But to be fair in this house you're never alone, are you?” His assistant stood tall beside him. “You! You broke into our house to get the ring!-” we’d just figured that out not long ago. “And by the way bitch- Get better perfume, with a job with a man like that, I know you can afford the good scents-”

All in one sudden moment, Fairfax had shot a gun he pulled from his back pocket. “Woah buddy be careful with that thing you might just get hurt-” I chuckled as he pointed it at me, “Where is the ring Kipps?” I put my hands behind my back, smiling at him. “Wow, last names? how formal for a man I've known my entire life.” He laughed right back at me. “I still remember how sad you were at my wife’s funeral…to bad I killed her.” On the inside my pulse was beating, my heart was going miles in seconds but not because a gun walked with me as I paced, but because I could see Lucy holding Lockwood back in the corner of my eye.

“Really? You cried with us and everything! shocking honestly.” Well now I see why he was in show business. “Ya know John we’re not too different. I'm about to be in a musical as a “bad girl” and you're going to be in jail with your name in the paper writing you, rightfully, as the bad guy!” I spoke enthusiastically, he rolled his eyes and scoffed at me. “Oh please, Kid we both know you don't wanna die so just give me the damn ring!” I raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I have the ring?” He laughed right back at me. “No one is stupid enough to leave something at home after someone has attempted to steal it already, so hand me the ring kid. Or I will shoot, and I'd hate to shoot my test subject.”

I laughed along with him. “See John you have almost everything right up until one little underestimation.” I let a smile twist onto my face again. “What is that, little Alias?” That nickname made me want to hurl, but I couldn't show it. He always called me that nickname after he would experiment on me. Put me in rooms with type 2’s and 3’s to see if I could survive, he went too far one day, and it all happened because I was selfish and scared of death.

I walked towards him, slowly. Taking my rapier out of its sheath and flinging it in the direction of George watching it hit the chair sticking inside of it, George hopefully a-ok on the other side. The closer I got the more nervous you could visibly see Fairfax get, But it all had to be an act. I stopped once The gun touched my forehead. “I'm not scared of death.”

He cocked the gun, “bye bye, Little Ali.” I turned around facing the other members of the agency, a bright smile on my face, as I could feel the shake of him pulling the trigger. The plan here was to flip around before he could pull it and unarm him, but it never happened. “HEY FAIRFAX-” Well that plan went out the window…

Lucy shot up, She was the one who had the locket with the ring inside it, I know she did because she slept with it on at night and dropped it, (And I gave it to her) I already knew what it was of course, i'm the one who designed the locket, and put the ring in there. “Lucy, let me handle it!-” I’m sure if any of us were thinking straight, we would’ve been freaking out but I felt great!

“You want the ring?- Take your damn ring.” she threw down the locket and watched it crack open as it slammed onto the floor, the ghost of Annabel screaming out.

I wish I could remember the rest but…all I can remember is the feeling of someone's hands on my head after I fainted. The weight of the explosion finally kicking in.

–

“Alias!- Alias we need you to sign this?!- Alias wake up.” I don't remember much from this either, Mostly the feeling of the cold van on my body, except for my head it was laid on Lockwood’s lap. I signed some papers with hopefully my signature, and immediately went back to sleep.

–

When I woke up again, I wasn't sure what had happened. I was incredibly confused and had a huge headache. The sunlight was beaming down on me in- LOCKWOODS CLOTHES- Wait wait wait- Now that I got a proper look around the room I realized, I was in Lockwoods room.

“So you finally woke up?” The door opened to a tall man standing in the door way, Anthony. I nodded with his words sitting up in the bed. “Yeah…so- What happened exactly?” he shook his head at me, almost like he couldn't believe me. “Alias, I almost watched you get shot in the head. Can you remember that..?” I went quiet playing with my hands. “I-I’m sorry. it's my fault I know..and I should've told you guys I knew him before- just please…anthony, don't run away now.” I sound pathetic, but words were slipping out of my mouth like water glides with sand.

“What?” He was confused, you could tell by his facial expressions and his hand movements. He always played with the seam of his pocket when he was nervous. “Don't leave me please.” It was quiet coming out of my mouth, but the words spoke so much more. “Alias why would-” I cut him off. “Please anthony. Just say it- Say you won't leave me.” He finally got close enough to stand beside me. With a closer look I could see how distressed he looked, Tousled hair, eyebags deeper than a soup pot, and oil stained casual clothes on. (my fault)

I grabbed his hand and put it to my heart. “I need to know if I tell you why, If I tell you what happened with Fairfax as a child. You won’t leave me.” It's happened before, my last lover. Anthony looked at me with pure feeling in his tears eyes, which I can't tell but it was there. “I promise you Alias, I will not leave you. I will sit here and listen to your story and I won't pity you.” I can't say I'm shocked, I think I’d be more shocked if he didn't say it. “I’d sit down..and this is your own bed, so come on-” I patted the spot beside me, letting him sit down and get comfortable, his hand immediately moved to my waist to give us both some comfort.

“When I was young, my parents and Fairfax had a deal, if I gave up myself to use as a test subject I would be someone with one of the best touch abilities in years.” Which obviously didn't work well. I leaned onto Anthony, his arms were hesitant to pull me closer but they did.

“He would put me in this ghost room, where they’d slide a source in and uncover it after it was secure in the room. I have so many cuts and bruises from that room,” When around the house I normally wore long sleeved shirts or jackets to cover up my arms, no one asked questions so I never told. There were many scars on my arms. Big, small, wide, thin. And a long one that went down both of my arms and across my chest. Anthony's hands traced the scars like they were art on canvas.

“Four years of pain and torture…but when I turned 10, He put a type three in there with me, it was a normal experience, at first I’d scream and cry but soon I’d just finish the job. What they failed to tell me was they’d also be adding my sister to the experiment-” Anthony wanted to throw up the second I said it, He looked like he did at least. And when he looked at up at the ceiling I could tell he was trying not to cry., but it wasn't out of pity, it was Sympathy.

“She was pushed into the room and I did what I normally did hiding behind the bed, but she wasn't scared. She was too young to be scared.” We both wanted to throw up now. “I was too scared to help her because she was too reckless. I was terrified of death and because of that, she ended up where I was scared I would-” He drew his arm around my shoulder putting his mouth to my temple softly. “-She died, Anthony. And I could've prevented it because I was supposed to protect her, I was her big sister-” We were close, she always said it was stupid of mom and dad to hurt me like they had. To make her watch, She was right, she was always right. “meant to be, forever and always.”

“Are they going to hurt you Ali?” Lainey was holding onto my dress for the life of her. Scared of the man standing in front of me, shaking my parents hand. “No Lainey, they don't hurt me.” I knew she didn't believe me but I had to keep it up. “Then why are you crying?” I tried my best to laugh it off. “Because I'm just so happy it's me and not you, Lain.” She stood up tall, finally letting her grip go on my dress. “Alias, are you always gonna be able to protect me?” … “Always and forever Lainey.”

“She meant the world to me.” Neither of us spoke for a minute. It was a minute exactly, I counted. “That's why I'm not afraid of death.” It was a simple statement that made Anthony flinch softly. “And maybe when I saw Fairfax pull out that gun I wasn't scared, because me and Lainey would be dying to the same hands.” Anthony finally looked me in the eyes, We we're holding eye contact for second. A tear prickled down my face, I didn't even realize I was crying.

“I love you Ant.” He didn't say anything until I went to stand up. In one quick motion he stood up and grabbed my hand. “I love you to Ali. I've been in love with you long before you moved in with me, I was in love with you when we were kids.” He looked almost relieved. “I've loved you since I moved in. You said I always had a spot in your bed if i couldn't sleep and I think right then I wanted to pass out-” …We both started to laugh. “Ali..can I kiss you?”

“Of course Ant-” We got close quick, my hands were on his shoulders, his are on my face. We both closed our eyes it was magica- “Oh i'm so sorry!-” Our noses bumped eachother, us both bursting out in laughter. “Wanna try that again?” I nodded back, still giggling. This time we succeeded our faces slotted together perfectly, our hands played together the tips of our fingers played together, and so did our lips. Now this was magical, absolutely magical.

“...wow-” I started to giggle again. “Wow?” He questioned. “Yeah wow- that was amazing.” He laughed at me. “Better than our first kiss?-” “That was not a kiss!” when we were kids we accidentally fell into eachother bonking our heads together and making us kiss. Anthony said that was his first kiss, I said it didn't count.

“I kinda want some tea?”...“We should make some tea!” I was grinning lazily, almost as if I was high. “Making some tea with my boyfriend…i'm so cool.” Anthony raised his eyebrow. “Boyfriend?” I nodded. “You have no choice! Love confession = boyfriend!” we were giggling at each other, He never disagreed so as I see it, he's my boyfriend. We finally walked out of the room to make ourselfs some tea.

I'm dying :D Pls request more guys, I need motivation 🫶🏼

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co dr #speak ali!!#mentions #lucy carlyle #george karim #the chronicles of alias forman #reader has a name #anthony lockwood x alias foreman #self shipping #selfshipping #self insert x canon #self insert

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twistedtummies2 · 3 months

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Year of the Bat - Number 13

Welcome to Year of the Bat! In honor of Kevin Conroy, Arleen Sorkin, and Richard Moll, I’m counting down my Top 31 Favorite Episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” throughout this January. TODAY’S EPISODE QUOTE: “Without Batman, crime has no punchline.” Number 13 is…The Man Who Killed Batman.

In contrast to our previous pick, “Appointment in Crime Alley,” this is one of the most comedic and quirky episodes of the entire series. It almost feels like a dark comedy you’d see in the 80s, more than anything else, and that’s part of what makes it so great! The plot revolves around a wannabe gangster called “Sid the Squid,” voiced by the marvelous Matt Frewer, of all people. The story begins with Sid going to his employer, crime boss Rupert Thorne, seeking help. When Thorne asks to know what’s going on, Sid begins to elaborate on his story, and most of the remaining episode plays out in flashback.

It's revealed that Sid was suckered into helping some of Thorne’s thugs with a scheme, the idea being the shrimpy little buffoon would distract Batman while the other goons got away. However, this plan works too well, and Batman is seemingly accidentally killed while trying to capture Sid. The runt of the underworld suddenly becomes hailed as a king of crime, but he soon finds his new reputation is more of a curse than a blessing. Things escalate to the point where the Joker himself seeks Sid out, hoping to find out if it’s true that the little weasel has destroyed the Dark Knight. This is where things get interesting, and it’s why the episode is so greatly remembered: when the Joker finds out Batman might be dead, he first tries to prove that he isn’t by staging a robbery…and when he starts to realize Batman may truly be gone…he’s DEPRESSED. The Joker becomes crestfallen, unable to finish the job, genuinely saddened and hurt by the realization that not only has his nemesis apparently kicked the bucket, but that he wasn’t the one who did it! He throws a mock funeral for the Caped Crusader – accompanied by probably the greatest eulogy in fiction, and Harley Quinn playing “Amazing Grace” on a kazoo…no comment – and then tries to kill Sid by dropping him in a coffin into a vat of acidic chemicals, which may or may not be the same ones that turned the Clown Prince into what he is today. (That part is ambiguous.) All this stuff with the Joker is classic, and everyone talks about it; it’s equal parts dark, funny, and surprisingly sorrowful, making for one of the Harlequin of Hate’s greatest scenes in the entire franchise. Indeed, Mark Hamill – the voice of the Joker – has gone on record more than once saying this was one of his favorite episodes, and that Joker’s most famous quote from the story (our episode quote of the day) has always been his favorite line.

As great as the stuff with the Joker is, it’s far from all that makes this episode good! I won’t go into detail on how Sid escapes the Joker, and how the story ends, but suffice it to say, obviously, Batman isn’t ACTUALLY dead. In fact, he reveals he’s been trailing Sid basically all this time, hoping and waiting for the opportune moment to strike at Thorne in the process. (Which honestly makes the stuff with the Joker even funnier, when you realize Bruce was literally trolling the Ace of Knaves behind the scenes. Glorious.) Sid, himself, is actually a big part of what makes the story so much fun: he reminds me a lot of characters like Smee from “Peter Pan” or Kronk from “The Emperor’s New Groove.” In terms of comics, he also reminds me a lot of my preferred versions of Killer Moth: Sid is basically a fanboy of criminals, who wants the prestige and power famous crooks get. However, he’s way too dumb, way too clumsy, and way too softhearted to be any real threat or make a name for himself. This makes the way things end ironic and surprisingly heartwarming, and it keeps him from being an unlikeable or annoying character, because we realize he’s in WAY over his head, and it only gets worse and worse as the story goes on. We don’t exactly want Sid to win, but we don’t want him to suffer, either. He’s another case of an unusual protagonist, and one of the best examples the show ever gave us. Whether you love the story for him, the Joker, or even other reasons, there’s plenty that makes this episode a true classic.

Tomorrow we move on to Number 12! Hint: “Life used to be so placid! Won’t you PLEASE put down that acid?! And Say That We’re Sweethearts Again!”

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leeenuu · 2 years

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We count: the sixth month of the war, when people are streaming on air how the blood flows from our bodies.

The roar of the aircraft is low, prolonged, threatening. "Ours!" – shouts the guy from the next table. The waitress asks – "How do you know?" "They fly low – you can see our trident on the wing!", – he answers proudly. And I think that jets also fly low, when they drop to death.

I prefer to forget how shells are signed: "For Mariupol", "For Vinnytsia", "For Bucha". This is the scariest correspondence – it always has an answer, but no one is listening.

Again we met, when the war was going on. Then, as always, we'll fall in love and break up, and the war will continue. You bring me flowers, but you carry the bouquet like a weapon. I wonder how these hands evacuate the wounded. And then – how they hold kids.

Traffic lights are not working here for the sixth month. My colleague from Donetsk says that's how the war started in her hometown in 2014 – the traffic lights stopped working. Luhansk region is completely occupied, Donetsk region is under threat. In the south – partisans, the liberation of villages in the Kherson region, and again – explosions in Dnipro and Odesa. We speak with a doctor who lost her home in 2014. As calm as a surgeon, cutting me gently: "I hope there will be no occupation. I hope again." Unfortunately, I remember too well this premonition in Crimea: "I'm sure you know the feeling – how the life slowly leaves the patient's body."

Bread, water, military backpacks and uniforms are sold on the empty streets. And also vegetable seeds. It brings me hope that there will be something to grow. Again.

There is an audiobook of Serhiy Zhadan's poems in my phone:

"At the store, along with day-old bread, they sell funeral wreaths. There's no one on the street – almost everyone has gone.

No lines. Neither for bread, nor for wreaths."

His voice fades and I think, how slowly the petals fall from the flowers that you left in my house in Kyiv.

– Julia Kochetova

#war in ukraine #russian world

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heliads · 2 years

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Hello to one of the loveliest people in the universe! Ehe, I’m back, and I was wondering if you could a tasm Peter Parker x reader, except this, takes place after NWH, and like, the reader’s actually spiderwoman in her universe, and she also lost her Peter (who’s basically her universe’s task Peter)? And like they’re very wary of each other at first, but then they realize they’re not threats, and eventually have some fun banter and conversation before Peter says something like “you remind me of someone” and she replies with the same? And like, they realize reader doesn’t really have a place to go, so they go to Peter’s apartment, but she’s starting to hyperventilate because this is *exactly* where her Peter used to live, and so Peter has to remove her mask, and he’s just so shocked and they basically hold each other? Ehe yes torture me with angst please -

ok ily but i have not seen nwh whoops so idk if this makes any sense but i loved the vibe of this req so i simply had to do it

masterlist

The grave is not welcoming as of late, but then again cold stone never is. Your tears don’t quite dry, but then again they never do. You should be used to this now, you think, or at least have found a way to get a better hold of yourself before now, but even after all of this time, one look at Peter Parker’s headstone is all it takes for you to break.

It wasn’t fair, how he died. It wasn’t right. Peter Parker, your wonderful Peter, the one who would walk miles with you to your car just to make sure you would get home safely, the very boy who would watch science fiction movies with you just to critique their realism, should have lived a very long and very thrilling life. He deserved awards, praise, hundreds of friends just as devoted to him as you are.

You’re certain that he did, or at least that all of that came posthumously. You know the funeral service was packed full of people who wanted to talk about him, but all you could think about was that they never managed it while he was alive. Then again, perhaps your ire was misdirected in the hopes of sparing you some of the burn. After all, you’re the reason Peter is dead, aren’t you?

In the end, you didn’t save him when he needed it the most, and that’s on you. As the resident Spider-Woman, it’s your job to take care of those in need, to protect the city and take down threats before they can grow into problems. You’ve managed it for years, but when it came down to it, you couldn’t save your boyfriend.

Distantly, you wonder if he can see you now, if he blames you for what happened half as much as you blame yourself. The fight that day should have been an easy one, just another run of the mill bad guy with some freak twist that decided to make your life difficult yet again.

The problems started when the resident bad guy started showing off his latest inhuman abilities, then Peter stumbled into the thick of things. He shouldn’t have been there, he was supposed to be across town at a conference, but one minute you were ducking for cover in an attempt to reload your web shooters and the next moment you had a picture perfect few of a New York villain bearing down on your boyfriend.

You remember that day vividly, as if you saw it on a movie theater-type big screen instead of with your own eyes. You can still feel the pull of your muscles as you threw yourself across the alleyway just in time to push Peter out of the way. You grabbed him and swung to a nearby alley, and once you were out of imminent danger you were shouting at him about what the hell he was doing there.

Peter had a snappy answer, he always did, but you could tell he was stunned by what had just happened. It was a very close call, and you thought it would be the closest he would get. The issue was that you were distracted with figuring out just why Peter was there instead of how to get him out of there. You were looking him, and you had the perfect view of his face as Peter got hit by an energy blast from the same guy you were supposed to be fighting.

The inhuman had aimed at you, but missed just perfectly and the blast ricocheted into Peter as well. You could feel the heat of the blast just under your arm, but Peter caught it straight in the chest. You watched the light fade from his eyes in one breath. One breath and he was gone, and you were more alone than you had ever been in your entire life.

It destroyed you. That was months ago, and you’re still some fragile wreck who can’t see a happy couple without being swamped by her own devastation. You took down the inhuman that killed Peter, but that doesn’t make you feel any better. The only person left to blame is yourself, and you’ve certainly got enough run time on that self loathing to make it last a lifetime.

One thing and one thing alone can possibly start to make the guilt less severe, and that’s your time as Spider-Woman. You were already fairly active on your nightly patrols, but ever since Peter died, it’s become your life. You go out in your suit morning and night, hour after hour. Your boss complained that you were taking too much time off, so you went out even more and started fudging your times in the logbook. Your family wants to see you more often, you make up excuses. Nothing matters like this does.

It’s not a healthy habit, and you know that, but what can you do? You are nothing without Peter. You needed him in every sense of the way, and you failed him. At least now you can stop people from losing their Peters. At least now no one else has to feel as crushed as you do.

You spend one last moment kneeling at Peter’s grave, then gently run a hand over his name and stand up, tugging your mask back over your head. It’s time for another nightly patrol. Already, the sun is sinking beneath the horizon, which means that you need to be ready to fight until your last breath. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough that you’ll get that end tonight.

You find your next fight within a matter of minutes. There’s yet another robbery happening down yet another street, and it feels like proof that nothing ever gets better in this city. No matter how many hours you spend stopping hijackings like this one, there’s always more.

Still, you have a part to play, and you play it as well as you always do. You’re operating on pure muscle memory by the time you swing into the alleyway, and your words when you ask the robbers to stop and put their hands in the air are a prepared speech. They don’t listen, of course, but then again, that’s kind of what you wanted. You’ve been itching for a fight for a while now. You feel it all the time.

You’re expecting the robbers to run further into the alleyways, but they surprise you and instead start climbing a nearby fire escape to the surrounding roofs. An interesting technique, but not one that will save them in the long run. You just swing up after them, landing on your feet and starting to run the second the soles of your boots touch a solid surface.

After that, your body goes on autopilot. There are four robbers currently running away from you; you take the nearest man down within moments, shooting a web that anchors his ankle to the ground. He stumbles and falls hard. You leap neatly over his body to continue pursuing the others. The second closest suffers from the same fate, easy.

The other two have caught on to what you’re doing and stop running, angling their guns towards you. The weapons appear to be energy based of some sort, and hum and glow like engines. One of them fires at you and you duck just in time, watching as the projectile burns a hole in the brick behind you. Once upon a time, you would have used that as an opportunity for a snappy comeback, but you’ve long since started keeping your mouth shut. There’s nothing funny about what you do anymore, not after you failed when it mattered the most.

Instead, you fire two webs at each of the men, and, crossing your arms suddenly, force the two robbers to slam into each other. They stumble to the ground, dazed, and you pace towards the one on the left. You throw him against a nearby wall, using your webs to bind him to the brick surface.

You took your eyes off of the other robber for too long, though, and judging by the energy projectile that barely misses you, he’s got his hands back on his gun. You whip around and start to fire a web at him, but you can tell that it’s too late. Is this how it ends, after all this time? A dark night, a lonely roofline, one reflex coming a little too slowly? At least you’ll see Peter again when it all falls apart. You wonder if he’ll hate you when it’s the two of you in the land of the dead, or if he’s done what you couldn’t and forgiven you.

The killing blow doesn’t come, though. A net of spider web shoots out of nowhere, tackling the guy to the ground. The web wasn’t yours, though, your fingers are still reaching for your web shooter. There’s someone else here, then, someone who’s got a similar setup as you.

You scan the horizon frantically, and see the guy on your second pass. He’s dressed in a suit that’s eerily similar to yours, blue and red with a black spider emblem across his chest. Even the black-edged ovals for his eyes look like the ones you’re staring out of right now. You stalk towards him like a caged animal, one arm raising by your side to point at him.

“Who are you? Why are you imitating me?”

The other guy rubs a hand over his masked face as if tired. “Shoot. I’m in the wrong universe, aren’t I? They dropped me off in the wrong place.”

You cock your head to the side. “Sorry, I’m not sure I’m following. What are you talking about?”

The guy spreads his hands, fumbling for a reason. “I’m not from here.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I can see that. Still doesn’t explain why you’re dressed like me, though.”

The man chuckles. “If you think about it, you’re the one dressed like me. Listen, have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?”

At your hesitant nod, he continues speaking in a rush. “Good. Great. See, I was pulled out of my universe to help with a problem, but I think I ended up in the wrong spot. You must be the Spider-Man here, right? Same way I’m the Spider-Man in my place.”

You cross your arms over your chest, still not entirely inclined to believe him. “Yeah, I’m Spider-Woman. How are you getting back to your universe, then?”

Spider-Man’s mask twitches over what you can only assume is a grimace. “Wonderful question. I have no idea. Do you happen to be in contact with any multiversal experts? I don’t know, you got any wizards around?”

You widen your eyes slowly. “Wizards? Out of curiosity, are you supposed to be freaking me out more or less? I need to be sure so I can tell you how bad of a job you’re doing.”

The guy laughs. “Okay, you’ve got me there. Let me start over. My name is Spider-Man, I’m from New York, and although I don’t really know how I’m getting home, this place seems nice enough that I might be sticking around. Are you alright with that?”

You consider that. “I don’t know. Don’t you miss your home? Don’t you want to go back?”

Spider-Man lets out a desolate sigh, the kind you’ve only heard from your lungs. “I’ve lost enough people that it doesn’t feel like home anymore. At least here I get a fresh start.”

You nod at last. “I can understand that. Once you lose the right people, nothing feels like it’s worth it anymore.”

He points at you in agreement. “You get it, then. You’ve lost some people.”

You force a smile even though he can’t see it. “My boyfriend. I should have saved him, and I didn’t. Who’d you lose?”

Spider-Man’s hands twitch at his sides, as if reaching for someone he can’t ever touch again. “My girlfriend, my parents, my uncle. Feels like there’s no end to it. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering if they’d be alive here, if this universe’s version of me didn’t become Spider-Man. Maybe I’d even get to see my best friend again.”

You hope for his sake that he manages it. “I guess it all changes based on what we did. It’s funny that there are multiple Spider-People, though. Maybe no matter what, people feel like they need to do something.”

Spider-Man hums in agreement. “That’s what I was thinking about, too. We all chose this path. Why?”

You lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. Guilt, maybe. With great power comes great responsibility.”

You smile sadly to yourself at the quote. Peter had said that to you around the time he first found out you were Spider-Woman, and it helped ease some of the stress surrounding your alternate line of work. At least your boyfriend supported you in it, although look where that got him.

Spider-Man, however, reacts strongly to your words, a quiet gasp emanating from his lungs. “You say it too, huh? ‘With great power comes great responsibility?’ I was wondering if you would. A couple other Spider-guys I knew did the same thing, I think we all hear it from somebody important, someone we don’t think we can live without until–”

He cuts himself off hastily, as of swallowing back some unspoken tide of regret. “Anyway, it’s important. My Uncle Ben said it.”

Your smile fades as you remember the day you first heard it. “My boyfriend was the one to come up with it. Guess that matches the pattern.”

You glance away, and Spider-Man must be able to tell that the conversation is steering into troubled waters, because he quickly guides the topic back to something more palatable.

“It’s cool that there are all these connections, though. More than I expected.” He says.

You nod absentmindedly. “Yeah, I’m kind of curious about that, actually, how many things are similar between your life and mine. I got my powers because I was wandering around Oscorp. My best friend, the guy who ended up being my boyfriend, was wandering around and I was trying to catch up to him. He went right, I went left, and I ended up in–”

Spider-Man cuts you off excitedly. “A room full of spiders? Oh my God, I did the exact same thing. Talk about creepy. I know there was a scientific reason, but why was that room there? And why was it so easy to find?”

You shudder. “Tell me about it. Literally the worst experience of my life. I mean, having powers is cool, but so many spiders.”

Spider-Man laughs, and you swear you’ve heard it before, just out of reach to name. “I’m glad somebody else went through that. Nobody wants me to complain about that part, although I feel like I should. Disgusting. It’s interesting that your friend was there, though. Mine was too.”

You tilt your head to the side, thinking. “Interesting. It’s cool to think about all the different universes that could have been created had everyone made slightly different choices. How many universes are there, anyway? Millions? Billions?”

Spider-Man shrugs. “Infinities, maybe, and then more. There is no end to what the multiverse decides to create. Even if I can’t make it back to mine, I like your universe.”

He glances up at the sky, as if noticing the dark sky for the first time. “It’s getting late. We should probably go our separate ways.”

He turns to leave, but you stay on the roof. You don’t really have a place to go. As it turns out, being Spider-Woman full time is not great for paying rent. You’ve been crashing at a friend’s place for a while now, although you had to leave today because you could tell her patience was wearing thin. You were supposed to book a hotel room today until you could find another place, but you never got around to it.

Spider-Man doesn’t ask about that, thankfully, but he does turn back to you. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind catching up with another Spider-Person. Come back to my place?”

You smile under your mask, jogging to catch up with him. “You got an apartment so quickly? I thought you just arrived in this universe.”

Spider-Man nods. “No, I was surprised too. I got the exact same place I had in my universe, which was weird. The landlord looked confused, said something about how he thought I was leaving, but he let me rent the rooms again. Who knows, maybe the version of me in this universe just moved out.”

You shrug. “Well, I’m glad you got your place. Anything for some sort of normalcy, right?”

Spider-Man shudders. “Tell me about it. Here, follow me, it’s actually pretty close by.”

He leaps off the roof with a delicate movement, as if to him flying and falling were one and the same. He catches himself with a rope of spider web shot to a nearby building, and you follow him, both of you swinging in tandem to the beats of the city. Spider-Man directs you through turn after turn, eventually coming up on a window of a familiar apartment building.

You wait for him to unlatch the window, both of you perched on the fire escape. You look around while Spider-Man fiddles with the lock, and your heart freezes in your chest. You know this exact view, you spent so long looking out this particular window with someone very close to you.

Indeed, when Spider-Man finally gets the window open you all but throw yourself over the ledge. No, it’s true. This is the exact place. This is Peter Parker’s exact place. You swear you feel your breathing speed up to double time, and your head feels as light as a cloud.

A hand descends on your shoulder, steadying you. When you look up, Spider-Man’s regarding you with the best concerned expression he can manage through the mask.

“Hey, is everything alright?” He asks, albeit somewhat pointlessly. You’re obviously not alright in the slightest, but you still find yourself nodding anyway.

“I think so. It’s just– well, this is my boyfriend’s old place. I haven’t been here since he died, and I didn’t expect to be back so soon. This is the same building, the same floor, even. This is where he lived, and–”

And where he stopped living, once you couldn’t save him. This is the empty apartment you had to clean out, where you had to load bags full of stuff into a taxi and take it to his aunt’s home. This is where you had to tell the landlord that he had to cancel the rent, although you were so overcome that you couldn’t even bear to tell the guy that Peter had died, only managed something about how he was moving really quickly.

The landlord. The landlord, which Spider-Man just said seemed surprised to rent the place out again. That couldn’t be, though, because the only reason the landlord would be surprised would be if Peter was back, and–

Spider-Man appears to have reached the same conclusion as you. “Wait, what was the name of your boyfriend? I need to know. What was his name?”

His voice is desperate, just as desperate as yours must be as well. The words come out in a choked gasp:

“Peter Parker.”

Spider-Man rears back as if you’ve slapped him. Then he’s shaking his head furiously. “Who are you? You said you were my friend. Who are you?”

You can’t manage another syllable, so you reach up to tug off your mask. Your hands are shaking too badly, though, and all you can do is scratch at the fabric. He gets what you’re trying to do, though, and takes it off for you. His gasp echoes around the apartment, eddying up ghosts that should have long stayed dead.

“Y/N?”

You know it from the way he says your name, even though it’s no longer tainted with all the memories you’ve made. No one else has ever said those letters in that exact same way, no one except the boy you’ve loved with all of your heart and buried in the cemetery three blocks away.

“Peter?”

He nods, swallowing hard as he pulls off his own mask. The tears start the second you see his face. It’s him. It’s Peter. He’s still the same after all of this, still the boy you love. His hair curls in the same patterns, shines the same way under these familiar lights. You have seen him a thousand times in this exact room, maybe a million, but never like this.

His hand drifts forward unconsciously to wipe the tears from your face. “I can’t believe it. In this universe, you’re the one who had to deal with all this.”

You laugh even as the tears fall harder. “And in my universe, you’re dead, Peter. I didn’t save you. You needed me, and I couldn’t do it.”

Peter shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

You turn away. “How could you possibly know that?”

Peter’s crossing the room hurriedly so you’re forced to look at him. “Because I know you, Y/N, and I know that you’d never give up on a person if you thought you could help them. I know that even in a universe where you’re not Spider-Woman. I know it because I know you.”

You shake your head slowly. “You don’t even love me in your universe.”

It’s a cruel thing to say, especially to this boy who has only ever tried to help you. After all this time, though, you’re still so selfish over him that you’d never want him to be anyone else’s but yours.

Peter, however, just smiles. “I always wanted it to be you. In my universe, when Gwen died, I couldn’t bring myself to love anyone else, no matter how much I wished I could love you. I’m glad that your version of me could do it. At least one of me could do it.”

You reach out a trembling arm and Peter folds you into him. The two of you fit together just as easily as always, even without the memories or the years that shaped you. How long have you needed Peter? Just as long as he’s needed you, perhaps.

When you manage to look up from where you’ve tucked your head under his chin, you notice that Peter’s gazing gently at you, too. Neither of you are able to voice the words aloud, but you know exactly what he’s thinking. It’s what you’re thinking, too: let’s give this another chance, for all of us. For the Peter you lost and the Y/N that he left behind. For all of the memories that have been split between the two of you. At last, you get the do over you’ve wanted for so long.

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes

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kindan-no-kanojo · 11 months

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The Crow Side of Scarlett

As a Ghoul, Scarlett is able to shapeshift into a crow (and we call her Crowlett!), but there might be some crow traits to her normal self as well. Here's how subtly Scarlett resembles a crow, despite not always using her crow form!

The Carrion Crow

The type of corvid Scarlett turns into is the Carrion Crow, one of the most known species. Carrion crows are capable of eating anything they want: from seeds to bugs to fruits, some even steal eggs from other birds' nests and some also feed off dead animals.

Her crow body is around 46 centimeters big, and her wings can reach 96 centimeters fully expanded. Her weight in this form is around 500 grams.

In appearance, this crow has a completely black plumage, with a glossy sheen of green or purple hues under a certain light. Beak and legs are also all-black, and she possesses purple irises, just like in her human form.

5 Shared Facts 🕊 Connected to Crowlett and Scarlett!

1. Good memory

They say you don't want a crow as an enemy. Crows have a great memory and are capable of remembering people's faces for long periods of time, connected to their behavior. In other words, crows can remember good people and be friendly to them, even make them small gifts; but they can also remember mean people and hold grudges. In the case of the latter, they can go as far as to tell other crows about the threat to attack in flocks, so they would have a bunch of crows ruining their day until they're gone.

Scarlett has hyperthymesia, meaning that she has a perfect memory and remembers absolutely everything about her life, from minimal experiences to all the people she's met along the way. Lore-wise, this was given by Karl after her transformation; however, she uses this 'ability' daily to remember people and their intentions to keep herself and others safe, much like crows do. She holds grudges and resentment towards those who hurt her, and is much more friendly and affectionate with those who don't mean a threat, including the gift-giving part. The one difference is that she'd rarely gossip to attack in a group(?), and would rather keep lots of distance or manage to get some kind of revenge herself if the betrayal is too deep.

2. Witty and crafty

Crows have a good ability when it comes to problem-solving and making use of tools, even creating new ones. Additionally, crows can be strategic and plan ahead to always be prepared.

Scarlett's 'tools' may be more abstract but equally functional; like the knowledge gained from her memories and how she applies it to social situations (including seeing patterns in bad-intentioned people, fixing situations that didn't work well in the past, etc). She's very observant overall, keeping in crucial details in order to not be caught by surprise with an inconvenience that could have been avoided.

3. Safety over emotions

It has been noted that when a crow dies, other crows gather around it as though they are holding a funeral for the deceased. While it seems likely, in reality they are scanning the area to figure out the cause of its death and be aware of any potential danger they could be facing to avoid being the next victim.

In Scarlett's case, her emotions always come second, and they come last in dangerous situations. Whether it's a loved one in danger or herself getting hurt, she'd seek safety and getting away from danger first and foremost, by all means necessary, no matter who else gets hurt in the way.

4. Fearless

It's not like they don't experience fear, but crows are willing to harass or fight a larger predator if the situation calls for it. Usually, they would gather in flocks to scare a predator off or attack them in group, but they also do so alone. In fact, they can just tease other animals for their own amusement (by pulling their tail or pecking them from behind).

It's not news that Scarlett often challenges a higher, more powerful creature by herself, using only her determination and strong personality in her favor. Likewise, it's not like she doesn't have any fear, but her personal reasons may take over and push her forward. Also, teasing may be one of her favorites hobbies as well—

5. Shiny / Tiny

It was proven that crows being collectors is a myth, but that doesn't mean they are indifferent to shiny things. Their keen eye catches shiny objects easily and it plays with their curiosity, so they pick it up, play with it or hide it from the public eye. It's also usual that they find entertainment with other small things like rocks or bottle caps.

I decided to leave the 'myth' part of this in Scarlett, and make collect the shiny and tiny things she finds. Crowlett loves shiny things because her sight catches them more easily in that form, and Scarlett is more fond of tiny things because she can hold them and feel big and powerful protective next to them. Tiny and shiny things? Pure perfection. She will be fangirling so hard.

While many of these traits can easily be found in anyone, some aren't very 'compatible' with her personality, so they just reference her crow side for the irony only (like no matter how cool she acts, something tiny can turn her into a child (?)). Thanks to her crow side, Scarlett can be more just than a loud, beefy, distrustful and lowkey dangerous Ghoul, lmao—

#scarlett wakahisa #diabolik lovers oc #🕊️. crowlett #she.#.i wanted to make a crowlett vs scarlett post for so long dfjkg #👁‍🗨. about

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groenendaelfic · 1 year

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Young Royals Snippet #5

Convincing people that the monarchy had to be abolished was a lot harder than it should be.

Nowadays people simply no longer saw it as a threat.

At best they rolled their eyes and said, "So what? It's not just the monarchy causing class division and inequality. They don't have any political power, not like that one CEO, you know the one who—"

Most merely shrugged and didn't care, or they pretended not to, while secretly or not so secretly romanticizing the royal family and all their hanger-ons, speculating about their love lives for entertainment, like celebrities, but ones which had to be addressed by a deferential title and who received millions each year to dress pretty and shake hands, their privilege a matter of pride and tradition, a deserved compensation for representing their country on the world stage.

And oh look, isn't the Crown Prince handsome? Don't you just have to feel for him after how sad he looked at his brother's funeral almost a decade ago? How time flies by, the poor dear, so handsome and strong despite his grief, all grown up now, but well, you are probably too young to remember how cute he was as a toddler when he ...

It was infuriating.

It didn’t matter that the monarchy had no more power on paper, was entirely useless in theory, because when the Crown Prince visited an animal sanctuary journalists and random people alike suddenly paid attention to the cause, had an opinion and cared, acting as if the concept of such a thing was entirely new to them, as if they couldn’t conceptualize the importance of animal welfare without the heir to centuries of injustice and exploitation showing up for a minute to shake hands and cuddle a puppy, cameras of course always ready to capture every second and to make the visit seem much longer than it actually had been.

The fact that said Crown Prince looked cute cuddling puppies was entirely beside the point.

Or rather it wasn’t, because that was intentional as well, was another way for the establishment to romanticize the monarchy, to make it seem benign and harmless, and Simon had no doubt that countless teenage girls were right at this moment saving the pictures of the puppy cuddling prince on their phones, dreaming of being his future princess and to one day be cuddled by the privileged waste of taxes in turn, not spending a second caring about the starvation and death his palaces were built upon, about the countless other animals the Crown Prince hadn’t cuddled, nor about the puppy which had most certainly gotten dozens of adoption requests the moment the pictures were posted, completely ignoring the fact that that wasn’t what animal sanctuaries were for, that they weren’t shelters eager to find a forever home for their charges, that this wasn't even a dog sanctuary, that the puppy was just a prop, one which was safer and less divisive than having the heir to the throne pet the actual wildlife there, and it made Simon so angry, because all of that shouldn’t be necessary.

People shouldn’t require pampered mascots to highlight worthy causes, especially not when the only reason said mascots did anything worthwhile was to distract from their own scandals and shady dealings. And anyway, what about all the other causes which didn’t come with a charming photo opportunity or glitzy galas?

Simon hated the monarchy, and the fact that its currently most popular face was objectively aesthetically pleasing and constantly surrounded by an alluring air of melancholy didn’t change that one bit.

Still, know your enemy, or so the saying went, and Simon very much understood the reasons for that, pressing save on the picture he was never going to look at again, because being hot did not magically make one a good person, nor did it make profiteering off of inherited wealth and inequality any less inexcusable, and really, fuck the monarchy, fuck it very much.

and then 30k later wilmon have angry sex

somehow

#in which Simon is a staunch republican campaigning to abolish the monarchy #and Wilhelm is the Crown Prince of Sweden who just so happens to be very handsome indeed #the lady doth protest too much #fics I’ll never write #fic snippet #young royals #young royals fic

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chrysoula · 5 months

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I’m rereading my fic Hollow Sky in preparation for an important chapter. All the Kaeya sequences are pretty intense, but I’m very fond of this one.

A spasm of frustration ran through Kaeya and he put his hands up to his face, his long fingers over his eyes. Klee felt like the last bit of Mondstadt he had with him. If she rejected him, too…

His fingers curled under his eyepatch, stretching his skin around what lay beneath. Just a tug and he felt the rage again, so deep and powerful that it stole his breath away. He no longer remembered if they’d poured it into him or if he’d learned it on his own. He loved Mondstadt, but before that terrible night when he’d made his choice and turned his back on his people, he’d hated it too. Sun-drenched Mondstadt, where there were always flowers and songs, where the adults still remembered laughter and the monsters weren’t allowed to torture people. Mondstadt, where parents protected their children.

We weren’t always like that.

It wasn’t the old man’s voice this time. This time, it sounded like his own.

Ice crystallized in Kaeya’s blood, and he didn’t know if that was real or not. The new voice was too much for him. A creeping cold grew inside, a cold he’d fought like hell for years to resist. Alcohol. Alcohol was good for this. Alcohol was what you had left when you froze everything wholesome in Mondstadt. Alcohol, and him.

He needed a damn distraction. He couldn’t handle that voice, or the ice in his blood, or the incoherent circles his thoughts kept racing in as the permafrost inside him grew stronger. He couldn’t approach Xingqiu and Lumine, whom Klee had run to. She might not hate him yet and he didn’t want to push that. Besides, those two made him uncomfortable now.

Behind him walked Hu Tao and Xiao. But Xiao made the back of his neck prickle. The yaksha was his own ancient story and that was exactly the kind of thing Kaeya had been drawn into too deeply already. Besides, occasionally, late at night, Kaeya suspected Hu Tao could just snap her fingers and extinguish everything left of him. It made no sense via either her fire Vision or her funeral director role, but ‘making sense’ had never been a strong point of late-night terrors.

And then there was Mona. She’d been kind to him recently, in her own way. He could really do with some more of that brand of kindness right now. Somebody warm and willing in his arms was always an excellent distraction from himself. It was a pity they were on the move right now, but maybe on a break — he surveyed the bleak and uninspiring landscape — she’d consider—

He actually focused on her and his line of thought curled up like a leaf in the frost. She walked with her head down and her shoulders slumped. She’d been upset by the sky, of course, maybe more than any of them. But Kaeya had been distracted then too, first by concern for Zielle and Kazuha, and then by Albedo, and most recently Klee. Really, what kind of a friend was he?

He adjusted his pace to match hers and drifted closer. After a moment, she glanced up. Damp eyelashes framed her reddened eyes, but her voice was completely steady as she said, “What do you want?”

He cocked his head. “Wait. Before I say, I have to know. Am I currently at risk of drowning?”

That brought out a brief, small smile. “Probably. I have trouble believing that’s ever stopped you from being a pest before, though.”

“Nah, but I like to know which particular forms of death I’m courting at any given time. Have to dress the part, you know?”

Mona snorted. “What do you wear to be drowned?”

Kaeya bit back the obvious response and just raised his eyebrows at her until she blushed and looked down again. But instead of the threat or counterattack he’d hoped for, she said, “Stop that. Stop…stop flirting with me. I don’t like it.”

Kaeya kicked a pebble along. “Hmm. Well then. I can always listen, instead?”

Mona’s hands went to her face and then she shook her head and glared up at him. “No! Why would I want to talk to an uneducated buffoon like you? I’d get more interesting insights out of… out of Razor!”

Being compared negatively to the barely-verbal wolf boy might have stung at another time but he could hardly be fussed about it now. Still, if she wanted to fight.… He protested “Hey, I’m pretty good at listening. You don’t need a big brain for that.”

With a sneer that didn’t suit her pretty face, Mona said, “Of course you are. Gathering information for all your little schemes.”

Kaeya blinked at her hostility and felt the ice crystals in his blood clink together. “Well, yeah. That’s kind of my job, you know? But you have to admit there’s not much scheming to be done out here.”

Her breath hissed between her teeth. “Yes, and you haven’t been doing much listening, either.”

That definitely would have hurt. But didn’t, because he was not going to let her hurt him. He couldn’t. He might shatter if she did.

Instead, cold billowing through him, he said, “Would you prefer I scheme? Shall I try to guess why this is suddenly about me?”

“Ah yes, the famous Captain Kaeya swelled head.” Mona shot him a scornful look. “Tell me how you think ‘this,’ whatever you mean by that, is about you.”

“Admit it, you enjoyed kissing me yesterday and you can’t stand that. Maybe you even want to do it again. Don’t worry, Meg. It’s a common reaction.”

Kaeya had calculated on making her scream at him. But, although she flinched, she also gave him a jaded look. “That’s all you can come up with?”

“Uh. I thought it was pretty good?” Kaeya hunched his shoulders uneasily. Suddenly trying to cheer up Mona didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. She had enjoyed kissing him, he knew that, and he was pretty sure that the idea of kissing him again would bother her. So what was going on now…?

Mona narrowed her eyes. “You lie nearly constantly, did you know that? Even when you’re not lying to me, you’re lying to yourself. It’s extremely irritating.”

Startled into a wry laugh that skated atop his freezing blood, Kaeya said, “That’s what I’ve heard but a man has to have a few pleasures. Come on, Mona, what’s going on?” He hadn’t wanted to ask that directly, not when the answer was so obvious, but at this point it was far more important to redirect the conversation anywhere else than him.

Her scowl didn’t change. “Why didn’t this cursed sky bother you? It affected almost everybody else, but not you and not Albedo.”

Once again, he did his best to steer the conversation. “Oh, it hit Albedo all right. He just did his big brain thing and then tucked it away. Surely you’ve seen him in action before. Anyhow, now who’s lying? I don’t believe for a minute you’re this pissed because of that.”

“You’re avoiding answering the question. So reliable.” Mona marched along without looking at him and he considered just retreating. Maybe he could drop in on Hu Tao instead.

Then Mona added acidly, “Come on, at least make up a story for me.”

Frustrated, Kaeya ran his hands through his hair and then pulled at it. “Fuck, I don’t know, Mona. I didn’t learn sky stories when I was a kid. The stars aren’t real to me like they are for you.”

Her jaw clenched. “Or you have some… immunity.”

“If I do, I don’t know about it,” Kaeya muttered. He’d looked up at the sky and it hadn’t made sense but what did these days? He’d noticed the moons but they’d been a picture in stained glass and he had a lot of experience thinking around stuff that scattered his thoughts. His ability to explain that to anybody was currently nonexistent. Explaining would require far too much thinking he simply couldn’t do.

But Mona had the look of a woman who wasn’t going to let this go. “I can tell that’s true, at least right now. But how about the you who came out at the Pyre? I want to talk to him.”

Something dark stirred under the surface.

Kaeya stopped walking. “That… wasn’t anybody. Just some childhood training coming back again. Bad memories.”

“A lie,” she said in a sing-song voice as she turned back toward him. “Do you know who he is yet?”

Irritating girl. Go to sleep, Kaeya, suggested the voice that sounded like his own. Go to sleep, just for a moment, and let me deal with this.

“No,” said Kaeya, and then added desperately, “No. I can’t, don’t you understand? I made my choice.”

Mona’s face wiped clean of expression for a moment. Then she shook her head briefly and something like sympathy touched her eyes. “It’s not enough, though. It never will be.”

#kaeya alberich #mona megistus #genshin fanfic #hollow sky #my writing #trauma

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possessionisamyth · 5 months

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the previous evening i saw diobrandass make a post about their ship opinions and immediately remembered how much i hate piers, BUT i do love chris so this post will be about all the ships ive seen him in and my thoughts about them ranked, thanks for the inspo 🫡

1. Valenfield (Chris/Jill)

I'm an absolute sucker for long term friendships forged in fire blooming into the romantic. The sheer dedication Chris has to Jill does border on unhealthy sometimes. Refusing to believe she's dead, not letting anyone mourn for her to give her a funeral, and searching relentlessly for 3 years is a lot. In Revelations I we can see how far they're willing to go for each other and in Death Island too we can see how fundamentally he's attached himself to her. She's the one person he lost and actually managed to save in the end. Absolutely love the idea of Jill prioritizing her job over almost everything the exact same way Chris does, but notices that Chris always makes her the exception to the rule. Tasty dynamic right here.

2. Chreon (Chris/Leon)

I started reading fanfiction for this ship after a playthrough of RE4R and continued reading fanfiction for this ship while I viewed the rest of the games and movies in chronological release date order. Spoiled myself for quite a few things that way, but this is said to explain my implicit bias for this ship. Two broken men finding healing in each other that's either super sweet or frustratingly messy. What else can I say? It's good shit.

3. Alofield? Chreva? (Chris/Sheva)

RE5 is a shit show for many racist reasons, but Chris and Sheva were genuinely cute together. I thought it was interesting that unlike Chris' other teams or partner jobs, he keeps giving Sheva a chance to leave. He wants her to survive. It could be a result of the lingering guilt from losing Jill, but I'm not sure about that because he doesn't push her away when she chooses to stay either. There's such an even footing and sense of respect between the two because their experiences are similar, but they went through them separately meaning the threat of toxic co-dependency derived from mutual survival would be non-existent. These are two experienced soldiers going into a slightly unfamiliar warzone, and even Jill gives her blessing when they go to kill the man that's been haunting Chris' life since 98. Poetic in the manner of closing out the past to give a fresh step forward into the future.

4. Chamberfield (Chris/Rebecca)

RE1- no no, not the remake, the original RE1 where Chris was allowed to be funny and Rebecca was genuinely just a rookie where they helped each other. Vendetta was a perfect follow up to show how time and experience reflected upon their maturity. In RE1 Chris had to make himself the pillar so Rebecca wouldn't feel as scared, and in Vendetta Chris is almost so blinded by revenge it's Rebecca who steps into that role to knock some sense into him. This is another long term friendship forged in fire blooming into the romantic scenario, but unlike with Jill, with Rebecca there's a lot more playfulness there. They seem lighter with each other probably because Rebecca isn't out there risking her life in the field nearly as much so maybe Chris can breathe easier as a result.

5. Olifield? Redveira? (Chris/Carlos)

I am the local Carlos whore, and I say this is a good ship. But seriously, both of them sharing horrible fucked up experiences surviving bioweapons with Jill and being disenfranchised with their country's military? There's a lot of common ground to explore here. Despite them never meeting to our knowledge,(totally plausible event after Jill and Carlos escape RC) it just barely edges into my Top 5 because I am the local Carlos whore.

6. Chrisker? (Chris/Albert)

Not a fan, but I get it. For people who like things like Hannibal or toxic love or the "I can make him worse" dynamics, I get it. This ship is perfect for that. There's one sided sexual tension from Wesker with the reveal, betrayal of a trusted companion, the evolution of becoming someone you killed making you wonder if you ever really let them go, and so on. I understand it. I don't like it, but I understand.

7. Winterfield (Chris/Ethan)

Ethan wasn't even a character to me until halfway through RE8, so I genuinely thought this was a "you guys would fuck a fence if it was white" scenario but it isn't! Upon looking at it again, there is something interesting here especially when Chris is placed in the unrequited love position. Chris saves this man, does all he can to give Ethan the tools to protect himself and his family, and then promptly has to shit on it to protect Ethan and his family. In the end he only saves Mia and Rose, but not Ethan who may or may not be the only person he wanted to save the whole time. It's the opposite of Chris losing Jill to save her later, with Chris saving Ethan to lose him later. To discover he never saved him in the first place? That all he'd done is retrieve and fall in love with a corpse of mold? Tragedy lovers this is for you.

8. Sherafield? (Chris/Jessica)

I've seen it maybe twice? Hot girl and work-a-holic boyfriend who pays her bills maybe. I liked Jessica. Would this work? Nope! It definitely wouldn't last more than a couple months but it'd be messy af and funny to watch.

9. Vesterfield (Chris/Raymond)

Where am I??!?!! Why??????!?? What??!!!? Uh, triple agent with a heart of gold because he saved Parker meets Chris??? I'm sorry. They have zero chemistry. Why is it this high at all? I think it's funny.

10. Nivanfield (Chris/Piers)

This is The "you guys would fuck a fence if it was white" ship. Piers in RE6 only serves the narrative purpose to remind Chris he's stuck in this life forever. He's boring as hell. Ship wise, hero worship does not a relationship make to me. Based on all the ships in this list, I don't think Chris wants to be with someone who puts him on a pedestal. He hates being called a hero or a legend, and we've seen him deny this title multiple times throughout the entire franchise. Piers' sacrifice is at the cost of upholding what Chris represents, not who he is. I'm not sure what eats away at Chris more, the loss of another companion or the reason behind it. It would be funny to see Chris sleeping with him once, realizing Piers doesn't see him as a fully realized person and then struggling to get rid of him though. I'd read that. Someone write that.

11. Heisenfield (Chris/Karl)

STOP LYING TO PEOPLE SAYING HEISENBERG IS HOT. I'M PUTTING LIVE ROACHES INTO YOUR HOME. NO!!! NO!!!!

12. Dimifield (Chris/Alcina)

Do not put this giant lesbian vampire milf through Chris' emotional constipation. Like, please don't do this. You want a giant woman with a little man? I can show you some good ones. Come with me. Take my hand.

#resident evil #this is way more fun than re analysis #im gonna do this again with leon ships ive seen #re ships

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vecnasrevengerp · 1 year

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welcome home ARGYLE FUENTES (oscar isaac fc)

hope you brought your tissues with you! be sure to check in at home or to your hotel and don’t forget to always look over your shoulder. this is hawkins, after all.

BASICS

[OSCAR ISAAC, CISMALE, HE/HIM] When’s the last time anyone heard anything about [ARGYLE FUENTES]? Old friends remember them as [OPEN-MINDED & LAID-BACK] but also [BLUNT & OBLIVIOUS], no wonder they’re still known as [THE BASKET CASE] around town. Today, in 2006, they are [39] and some people say they remind them of [the faint ever-present smell of weed lingering in your clothes despite your attempts to cover it up with essential oils and incense of every kind; unexpectedly making the move from ‘token sidekick’ to the trope of ‘genius ditz’; finding fulfillment in the simple things in life; perpetually sore muscles from keeping up a brave face ]. [you know who iam. (threat)].

BIOGRAPHY

TW: DEATH MENTION, GRIEF

Maybe deciding to stay in Hawkins had been the easiest decision Argyle had ever made in his life. Jonathan had been his first real friend in the world, as Argyle would later quote at Jonathan’s wedding reception, his life had… basically started the moment he’d walked into Mrs. Miller’s classroom at the beginning of the year, the second he’d sat down on the only empty seat left in the class and Argyle had turned to him with a grin so big it had made his cheeks ache. Brochachos for life. Trauma-bonded until the end of their lives after that wild fucking roadtrip they’d gone on, spring break of ‘86.

First, though, Argyle had to wait until graduation. He’d promised his abuela on her deathbed that he’d finish school, and he’d sort of promised himself, too. There were plenty of people, loads of teachers included, who seemed to be convinced that, because he indulged in the occasional blunt, he’d never amount to anything, much less academic success. But, ha, he’d show them! (Also, he wasn’t going to start shit with the ghost of his grammy. He may have promised her to stay in school but she had promised him to come back and haut his ass if he didn’t. And she’d already been scary while alive, no need to risk anything. ) Show them he motherfucking did. Walking that stage at graduation with a joint tucked behind his ear, a wide grin, bathing in the gobsmacked stares of all the people who’d thought he couldn’t do it. Take that, Lenora Hills. Take that, Martin from Algebra. Take that, uh…. what was that dude’s name again?

Having successfully graduated from High School, all Argyle needed to before moving to Hawkins was drop out of community college. A predictable move for him, sadly. He’d stuck it to the haters with the 3.8 GPA at graduation. Then he’d proceeded to un-stick it to them by giving up his place at Lenora community. But whatever, there were more important things in Argyle’s life now than studying and drinking questionable amounts of alcohol out of red solo cups. Lenora community would still be there if Argyle ever decided to move back to Cali, and, besides, Hawkins had a community college of its own. So, Argyle could support his best bro and get an education! Two birds with one beautiful, smooth, warm stone. A joint between his lips, Argyle handed in his apron and drove the Surfer Boy van along the coast for one last time.

Life in Hawkins was … different, to say the least, but easier to adapt to than he’d initially thought.The first few months were spent mostly indoors, comforting and supporting Jonathan in any way he could. Movie nights, long talks over a shared joint in the middle of the night. Whatever he needed, Argyle was there to provide it. Whether that was a grocery run, a call to the funeral home to re-negotiate a deal on the caskets. Argyle proved to be a real jack of all trades during that time - a time of mutual comfort during gried, though, because, of course, Argyle wasn’t left completely untouched by the deaths of Will and El, either. He’d known them for as long as he’d known Jonathan, had needed to get used to this new version of the Byers household, as quiet as he’d never experienced it before. The first few months until well after the funeral, Argyle did everything to be as accommodating as possible to Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce.

Oh, Joyce. Bless her heart. Argyle hadn’t been fortunate enough to have grown up with a mom, raised by his father and abuela, and that had been totally fine and lovely! But holy cow, wasn’t it lovely, too, that Joyce Byers had taken him in like one of her own. He’d even called her ‘mom’ by accident a couple of times. But it wasn’t horrific like it was when he’d been so tired he’d accidentally called Mrs. Croucher ‘mom’ in history class. No, the opposite, actually, Joyce had merely laughed, ruffled Argyle’s hair, a distant look of sadness in her eyes she tried to hide by quickly asking him if he wanted anymore mashed potatoes.

It’s Joyce that pitches the idea of a roadtrip to California to him. Arglye quickly pitches it to Jonathan and, after a little convincing, they’re back in the Surfer Boy Pizza van, a big, foldable map spread out across Jonathan’s lap while Argyle happily drums along to ‘Break My Stride’ on the steering wheel. Down the West Coast to California. A trip down memory lane - stopping by the Byers old residence, paying a visit to Argyle’s father and his new wife - with a healthy dose of laying on the sand at Santa Monica beach, sharing a joint while watching the sunset. ‘You know, brochacho’, Argyle would say with a dazed grin, watching intently as the red and orange and blue of the sea exploded into a lovely rose-ish colour, ‘everytime there’s a, like, a super, like, pretty sunset? That’s my abuela saying hi. And Will, to. And your little sis.’ And he would nod to no one in particular, before adding, a little quieter; ‘Sorry I ratted you out to Joyce with the viscious skate attack, little bro. That was actually so badass.’ And they would be quiet for a while.

Once back from their trip, Argyle, having blown through his Surfer Boy savings, got a job at the laundromat. He just sat there most of the time, blazed, talking to little old Dolores about her cat or her husband, he wasn‘t quite sure. Since moving to Hawkins, Argyle had gone on a journey of … finding himself. He’d pretty much sailed through life, couldn’t really name any goal or aspiration he had. Everytime they’d taken one of those career aptitude test he’d panicked - all those things sounded sort of good! But also all of them sounded sort of bad, too… god, how could he ever decide what to do with his life?

One night, he had an epiphany. Having consumed a criminal amount of weed, the idea had suddenly popped into his head, and he cursed himself for not having thought of it sooner. ‘A speak easy….. but, like, for weed, man!’ A buddy of his had gone to Amsterdam in the summer, told him about the ‘coffee shops’ there. But how much more exciting when it was, like, secret! And smoking was still criminalized, at least in Indiana it was. Had he stuck gold here?

Argyle’s secret-but-not-so-secret weed speakeasy, the weed sponsored in part by one of the friends except Jonathan he’d made in Hawkins, some super cool dude named Reefer Rick, opened underneath the laundromat soon after. With moderate success among insiders but, hey, success nonetheless!

However, once Argyle pitched the idea to some of his buddies who owned a couple of weed dispensaries in Cali, he had really stuck gold, like, seriously. A place where you could both purchase the goods and consume them, in a safe space, a comfy environment? Genius. Truly. Maybe this had been Argyle’s purpose all along, being a business owner. A true business man. But without the stuffy suits and the, like, cocaine and infidelity.

Suddenly, as if overnight, Argyle Fuentes is, like, rich. Like, filthy rich, or something akin to that. Like, raking in dough, rich. When he checks his bank account for the first time in months - he doesn’t usually do that, money is made up, anyway - he can scarcely believe it’s real. ‘Don’t spend it all at once!’, the bank teller cautions him with a playful wink. Argyle nods, proceeds to by his dad and step-mother their house. He pays off whatever debts they have. Then he withdraws a fifty and leaves. He scarcely, if ever, touches his funds, why should he? He’s got everything he needs. He makes sure Jonathan’s fridge is full, makes sure he’s got snacks in his own, too. Every once in a while, Argyle will pick a good cause to donate some of the money to.

Oh, he buys a cat, too. Garfield. Who … looks nothing like Garfield, but it was the only cat name he could think of. So now he’s rich and he has a cat and he travels for business (fucking business) every once in a while, but truly, Argyle is happiest when he’s lounging on a bench near lover’s lake, basking in the few hours of sun Hawkins got in a day.

During his travels he meets the woman that, soon enough, will turn Argyle into an actual dad. She’s a good buddy, one joint too many and one thing had led to another,a one night stand had turned into a future of co-parenting. No bad blood between them, fuck, if anything, Argyle was stoked! He’d always wanted to be a dad, and this was going to be a challenge, of course, but one he’d happily take on. He’s so happy, it’s ridiculous. The fact that she doesn’t pressure him to either marry her or stay completely out of her and the little bud’s life is a huge relief on him, too.

Everything’s going too good, almost, in comparison to what Jonathan’s going through. When Joyce passes, Argyle puts all other things on hold, rushes to Jonathan’s side. Surely, this dude had been through enough trauma to last a lifetime, and here came another hit. But Argyle is there, and he’s not going anywhere. Fuck, he’s in this for life, no take-backsies.

Argyle put his surfer boy cap - or one of them, the man’s got thousands - in the time capsule, along with the recipe to the famous surfer boy pizza dough (there’s a secret ingredient in there that Argyle can’t even remember now),

STATS

Please distribute up to fifty points among the following stats! Click here for more detailed instructions on stats.

Athletics (How Athletic are they?) 1

Burglary (Can they swipe stuff?) 3

Contacts (Do they know people with information?) 3

Deceive (Are they a good liar?) 0

Drive (like, actual driving ability) 2

Empathy (How much of an empath are they?) 3

Fight (Do they have hands?) 0

Investigate (Can they sleuth?) 2

Lore (Kinda like knowledge) 1

Medicine (First aid essentially) 1

Navigation (How good are they with a map/getting around?) 0

Notice (Is your character observant?) 1

Provoke (Are they a shit stirrer?) 0

Rapport (Are they charming? Can they do it on command?) 2

Resourcefulness (MacGyver scale) 3

Stealth (Are they sneaky?) 1

Will (Tenacity) 2

EXTRAS

pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/edsmunson/argyle/

#accepted #argyle

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scrumptiouslyimpossiblecat · 2 years

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It was Just a Joke: A Sonamy fanfic

“Hey Cream, how’re you doing?” Sonic cheerfully greeted as he rushed by her backyard. “Fine.” Cream said flatly. “Isn’t Amy with you?” Sonic began to ask. “You don’t know?” Cream asked. “Amy’s in jail.”

Sonic’s blood grew cold. “What?” He asked. “It’s true,” Cream said, matter of factly. “Remember what happened at that moment in Babylon Garden? Not even, remember that time you were in jail, and the fight at Grand Metropolis? Some police came by and took her off to interrogate her. That girl’s done for. Honestly, considering how much you hate being around her and everything, I’d thought that—-hey, where are you going??” Sonic zoomed away from the rabbit household in deep concern. Things were about to look grim for poor Amy.

“She was clearly teasing him! Can’t you people take a joke???” “What right minded person brings up marriage on a 15 story tall building and calls that teasing???” “That’s what your kind always says, right before they get caught!” “What’s so wrong with openly showing affection? What’s so wrong with being feminine??” “When it deliberately harms everyone else, that’s what’s wrong! She’s a stalker, pure and simple! She’s a public menace, she’s a threat to society, and I have no idea why you’re defending her so much!!” “She’d literally stand by and watch the world be destroyed for a boy who doesn’t even care about her!” “Are you saying that girls need to resort to hitting people with blunt objects and threatening and bullying to get what they want?? What kind of message is that sending to our children??” “And the worse part is, Sonic constantly has to rescue her from just about everything, the girl’s borderline defenseless, and she’s openly preying on the poor boy like this.” “She is SO not a stalker, can’t you understand??” “I don’t even think she’s a hedgehog if we’re being honest, she honestly resembles a pig…”. “That dress of hers is so tacky…”. “Why does Sonic always save her???”

These were the arguments and debates Sonic observed firsthand on the news, and in the streets as he sped by to the county jail. Sonic could only look on in sorrow as the entire zone seemed to tear itself apart due to Amy’s reckless behavior, on a scale possibly even worse than when Dark Gaia tore open the planet. There were people on Amy’s side and people who were offended by her, and cared for Sonic’s well being. No side was happy. And somehow, he felt responsible for all of it.

Now, Sonic had been hit by much worse than Amy, and he understood that she was a good person, in spite of all her faults, but it would take a lot to convince the general public otherwise. Amy touched a nerve, and was about to suffer a danger that not even Sonic could possibly rescue her from: THE MAN.

Sonic asked the sheriff where Amy was. The sheriff gave Sonic a very skeptical look before showing her the holding cell. “It’s your funeral, bud,” he scoffed as he showed where she was. There she was, in an orange jumpsuit, and handcuffs, her positive and optimistic demeanor near completely erased. Her old hammer had been confiscated by the authorities. Her behavior had finally caught up to her. Her spirits began to lift when she saw him again, but looked away in sadness and fear, afraid of causing yet another uproar.

“Amy,” he said. Amy balled up and turned away. “Just Go away,” she said. “You always run off because I’m a monster, so just run off like you always do.” “But I need to talk to you,” Sonic insisted. “I need to know what’s bothering you.” “What’s it matter?” Said Amy. “That’s my job, Amy, to help others in need, people just like you, so tell me, why have you been acting up like this? You’ve been getting awfully possessive these last couple of months, you’re starving yourself, you’re threatening people left and right, Your face is all over the news, all over newspapers, and all I want to know is WHY?”

“…Cream never invited me to her birthday.” “What?” “Yeah. On her 7th birthday, everyone was invited, Tails, Knuckles, Big, Rouge, her first grade class, even Shadow, was invited, but not me. I was right outside the pizzeria when I found out.”

Sonic began to think back to the party, and the callous remarks people made at Amy’s expense. “Great party, Cream! What, Isn’t Sonic’s “girlfriend” gonna show up soon?”. “She better not,” said another student, “I heard she tried to adopt a robot, and hallucinated her own crush.” “Good thing she isn’t at this party. I don’t want her throwing a tantrum and hitting people, and beating Sonic into marriage. I can’t believe Vanilla let her babysit you, Cream.” “I think Sonic might have a phobia of pink,”. Commented another one. “That’s why he always runs off scared like that.” Sonic hesitantly laughed at their jokes, too afraid to really defend her. “I love being at a party with heroes!” Cried a kid. “Hey you know, Amy’s done some pretty awesome things too,” Sonic said. “I said REAL heroes,” the kid retorted. He then joined the other kids in beating a piñata in the appearance of Amy Rose, rather violent. “Take that, you creepy ol’ stalker!!!” Cried the boy as candy spilled out from Amy’s head, and the children gobbled it up, then tore apart the piñata for good measure, with nasty glee. Nobody was aware Amy was right outside the arcade, overhearing their disdainful jokes. It tore her from the inside out at the truth that she was not respected in the same light as her peers, not even Cream respected her, not enough to even invite her.

“And not just that,” Amy went on, “I don’t have a constant group of friends like you do. at the local gym, after boxing practice, when everyone goes home, I have to watch as many of their friends walk home together, in pairs, or In groups, either going to movies, or parties, or concerts, and nobody else ever does that with me, ever. I have to walk home alone. Nobody ever watches movies with me, nor invites me anywhere, nobody even comes to my birthday party.”

“So, now you know,”. Amy frowned as she recalled the episode. “That’s all they ever expect of me. Nobody really understands me. They trust you, they award you, they praise and respect and adore you, but never me. So, I said to myself, if the world believes and just expects me to behave like a self destructive, obnoxious, horrible fangirl, why bother being anything else?” She began to break down. “I thought by chasing you, and becoming your girlfriend, I’d finally have it all; people would finally respect me, I’d be invited to things, and I’d never be looked down upon again. Now it’s gotten to the point where Cream tries to pretend I don’t exist, and Vanilla wants to send me away to a reform school! I really never meant to harm anyone, honest. I’m sorry for hitting you all those times, before. Now look where it all got me!!” Amy sunk her huge head into her hands and cried her heart away, in remorse of her actions.

It is here that Sonic truly began to realize the importance of his presence in Amy’s life. Nobody else was willing to give her a chance otherwise, and she was suffering without him. Now that he had a better understanding of Amy’s perspective, He began to regret neglecting Amy for so long, and rushing away as soon as she approached him. As much of a handful she could be, even Sonic knew she wasn’t worth this controversy and drama, and wanted to make things better.

“I…like you,”. Sonic said. “No, you don’t.” Amy sniffled, “You’d ditch me as soon as you see my face, I’ve clobbered you so many times, so how could you—.” And that’s when Sonic hugged her. “Yes, I do,” Sonic said, his eyes looking misty. “You poor thing, don’t you know you don’t have to chase anyone to be loved and respected.” “I don’t?” She said. “No,” he said. “You shouldn’t, nobody should, And I wish I’d known what was going on with you sooner, and kept a better eye on you, then this whole mess would be prevented.” “So…you’re not mad?” “Not in the slightest,” Sonic affirmed her, as he held her hand. “There’s nothing you could do to me that would ever stop me from saving your life. Believe it or not, you’re far from the first friend who’s ever assaulted me, Knucklehead comes to mind. You’re a good person, Amy, no matter what the media or anyone else says.” “You say that, but what about everyone else?” “Anyone says otherwise, I’ll personally vouch for you,” he said. “And in fact, when this drama blows over, I’ll try to spend more time with you, so this NEVER happens again. we’re gonna get through this. I promise.” Amy tearfully smiled, reassured by her blue beau’s kind words. They were just what she needed to hear. “Really?” She squeaked. “Yeah, but no more of the creepy teasing and hammer, please. It’s done nothing but harm for everyone.”

Sonic proved even better than his word. When Amy was released, he celebrated her birthday with a private party and brought a cake. It wasn’t even her birthday, but considering who we’re talking about, this was more than a huge surprise for Amy.

At an pizzeria, a lonely Amy sat at a table at the far end of the restaurant while Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Blaze, Silver, all shared a booth at the other end. A waiter was serving drinks over where Amy was. Amy reached out for one, but the waiter rudely yanked the platter away from her and walked over to Sonic, with a biased look on his face. “Entitled pink Degenerate,” he growled under his breath. I can’t watch this anymore, Sonic thought to himself, and walked over to the waiter, and told him, “she’s with me,” pointing to Amy over at the far end. And soon, Sonic approached Amy with a couple of drinks in hand to share with her, much to the shock of everyone in the restaurant. This is OOC, why is Sonic being nice to his own stalker, he hates her, everyone whispered and gossiped. “Why not take a picture, it’ll last longer!” Sonic cried to the audience.

Sonic began to put in effort to repair their broken bond. Whenever anyone jeered and made the usual stalker criticisms, Sonic clapped right back and defended her, as any good friend would. Sonic began to walk her home from boxing practice everyday, and they watched movies together. They brushed each other’s hair, and She and Sonic began to play soccer together too. It was the least Sonic could do for her. Soon, Amy’s demeanor began to change gradually thanks to Sonic’s constant presence. She became much more humble now, more docile too. Her need to threaten the others was gone. And she felt reformed. Amy was soon approached by the other people now. Sonic himself now had a newfound sense of purpose and belonging. He truly was proud of how far Amy had come.

#Sonamy #this #is my own perspective #just speaking facts #learn to understand other people’s perspectives Amy fans #this does happen in the real world #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sad but true when you think about it #fanfic #spilling the tea

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navree · 1 month

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is it just me who thinks aemond "loving" alicent was only a facade? now he is smug; looks at his mother not with respect or reverence but as if she is someone lower than him because he murdered someone so he can feel better about himself and fuck the others including alicent who was always there for him. like wtf?

So I haven't actually seen the Team Black trailer so maybe there's more interaction in there, but I haven't seen any interaction between Aemond and Alicent? In the promo materials thus far Aemond's on his own or with Criston, and Alicent's with Aegon, Otto, and the funeral scene with Helaena, as well as on her own near various water sources (Ophelia-core, hell yeah). So unless I'm missing something, we haven't really seen any of how their season 2 dynamic is going to be from promotional material yet.

But as to any expressions he's making, I think we need to remember a few things. One, that Aemond isn't actually very expressive visually. He keeps his face pretty neutral at all times, even with people he's close to like Criston and like Alicent. The only time we really see Aemond as portrayed by Ewan openly show emotion is that scene when he realizes Viserys is dead, when he loses his shit at Luke, and during the chase above Storm's End. So it's entirely possible that, whatever he's feeling, he's not showing it on his face (and Ewan has a mouth that appears to curl naturally, so neutrality doesn't necessarily entirely come off that way just based on how he looks). Two, Aemond also doesn't express what he's feeling, period. Storm's End has always been notable to me, from a character perspective for Aemond, because of the fact that it's the only time we see him as an adult actually show how he's feeling. He doesn't show how he's feeling during his training session, during the throne room, during the dinner (seriously, even when threatening Jace or doing the Strong boys speech, his face stays the same, it's just the fact that he's acting at all that appears impressive), during Aegon's coronation, even during something as high emotion as Aegon begging for freedom (while also tenderly cradling his face, the Aegond agenda is alive and well here people never forget that). So I think unless it's a scene where there's a lot going on (like, immediate aftermath of Blood and Cheese levels), he's gonna just not openly express a whole lot.

Lastly, again I never like to knock on people's interpretations of things, but I think it's important to remember what actually happened last time we saw Aemond and what we've seen so far. He didn't murder anyone. He had intent to maim, yeah, at least during his outburst, and he clearly wanted to fuck with Luke, I'm assuming to try and instill a similar feeling of fear and helplessness he must have felt as he dealt with a gruesome, debilitating, and very painful injury at a younger age than Luke due to something Luke did. But the second shit started going wrong and there was clear intent to cause serious bodily injury that could result in death, he's not on board. Remember, Vhagar and Arrax broke control and started acting on their own volition, Arrax by attacking clearly despite Luke trying to stop it, and Vhagar by retaliating to a threat against her. We verbally hear Aemond try to rein it in, and we hear how clearly not on board and horrified he is when it doesn't work and Vhagar chomps Arrax and Luke (earned, honestly, he was super boring and if you can't even bring yourself to apologize for nearly killing another human being for no reason you deserve what you get). And when we see his face, he's very much not happy, and is clearly aware of just how big a fuck up this is and what the potential repercussions could be. Would Aemond be found guilty of, like, dragoncular manslaughter in court for what happened to Luke? Yeah. But did he murder someone and feel good about it? No.

Not to mention, the only in depth thing we've really seen from Aemond (at least in the Greens trailer) is him saying that he has no problem meeting Daemon in the field, which I think is taking place after Blood and Cheese since Criston's hair is shorter and they're clearly putting Fabien in a wig at least for episode one, based on some stills I saw on Variety. And just as I have no issue with Aegon jovially discussing going to war with Team Black after his mother is brutalized and his sister is tortured and his children are threatened with death and rape and his son is beheaded, I don't have much of an issue with Aemond being gung-ho and happy to go after Daemon after he sent men to terrorize innocent civilian members of his family who had jack shit to do with what happened at Storm's End. I'd be skipping and dancing to the opportunity to fuck him over if he did something like that to my sister and her hypothetical family.

TL;DR, I don't think Aemond is "smug" personally, I think he's got resting bitch face and a tendency towards looking neutral, and we also just haven't seen anything of substance from him yet, along with a) not jiving with what we saw last time we saw him and b) a certain cheeriness to violence being a reasonable response to members of his family being grievously wronged.

#personal #answered #anonymous #you bet your ass i'm committing all sorts of war crimes on anyone who does something like what the blacks did with blood and cheese #that's abominable that's beyond the pale and completely disproportionate and i have no sympathy for anyone involved #in the planning of something like that #but yeah sorry anon i don't really agree with that interpretation

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takofoodtruck · 7 months

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A sign on fire, the sign reads:

"Remember

As far as anyone knows

We're a nice normal family"

Growing up, he called it 'the fishbowl'

TW: childhood trauma, descriptions of emotional manipulation.

"You're living in a fishbowl! Everything you do is seen by everyone and reflects on ME"

From as early as I can remember, we had to keep up appearances. The fishbowl speech began when my father started Seminary up until he stepped down from his position due to his own moral failings. And even beyond that for each of us.. we lived by that mantra.

It was awful. Every single thing we did was constantly scrutinized, criticized, you were punished for not performing properly. Wake up, put on the mask, wear the costume, go to church, pretend you're happy. Die a little more inside. "Remember, you're living in a fishbowl"

Make friends, but don't get close. "Remember, you're living in a fishbowl". Don't bring friends over, because dad might start yelling at you or throwing things at you at any time. "Remember, you're living in a fishbowl"

Don't practice your instrument. Dad will get mad. Don't get a girlfriend, and for the love of God, don't tell him you're interested in boys too.. "Remember, you're living in a fishbowl"

Even before the fishbowl, it wasn't any better. It just had a different name.

You told him once that you didn't feel right in your body. That it felt "sorta wrong all the time" he forced you to watch awful charicatures of transgender people in movies while he jabbed you in the ribs and said "you want to be like those (slur)'s?"

You got lucky that conversion camps weren't really a thing yet and you convinced him it had just been from a bad dream.

Age of 10, pack a bag, make a plan. Except mom finds the bag. You can't run away.. you say you were gonna go camping in the 2 acre backyard.

Dad knew.

"You think I'm bad? They're worse" he hisses at you in the middle of the night. After he wakes you up to tell you awful things and make you more afraid to get away.

"I'm never having children. I can't be him. I can't put someone else through this hell." Is a pretty rough thought. Worse when you're 8 years old at a family wedding. You accidentally made a mess of something. He can't hit you right now. Too many people around. But he made the threat

"Just wait till we get home".

He always kept that promise.

Sadly, the only ones he ever kept involved getting hit.

"Remember, you're living in a fishbowl. As far as anyone knows, we're a nice, normal family"

Coming back for his funeral and finding that sign on the wall. I knew it had to go. I'm done with the fishbowl.

#growing up queer #cathartic blog #abusive parent #childhood trauma #healing

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thepatronsaintoffarewells · 8 months

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I lost ten people to suicides and overdoses before I turned 28, some I was closer with, others to a lesser degree, all that I wished that I had more time with. My sister had attempted. My mom had attempted. I had attempted. I had friends that were still using and lovers that made threats. It was very hard for me, at the time, to see a way through it all. I clung to my friends that remained. I wanted to erase all our collective grief and sadness. It felt like no one else wanted that, or no one else saw it like I did. It can be very hard, to love an unwell person so fiercely. It can be harder when that person is yourself.

There's a scene in a Robin Williams movie, What Dreams May Come, where his character journeys through the depths of hell to save his wife who had committed suicide. When he realizes that she won't leave on her own, he makes to stay there with her. I used to think that it was really beautiful to love someone like that. I think in my own life that I always wanted to be the kind of person who could stay and bear it. I didn't want to leave anyone alone. What I found in practice though, was that the more obstacles I cleared for a person, the more room they had to cause harm. They call it enabling, right? It went even further than that though. I wanted to experience it with them. I wanted to be able to let go and really feel things and maybe even wallow a bit. I wanted to get splitting drunk and numbingly high. I fantasized, sometimes, about being so awful that no one would miss me, like it would lessen the blow if I killed myself. But I'd feel so terrible and I could never really do it because I also wanted, so badly, to be loved.

I had a friend that I told everything to. We would go up to the bar and he would drink and I would spill my guts. We talked about really painful things like how when my ex had attempted after we broke up I was struck by the realization that I had never felt so loved. I told him I was suicidal. They say you're less likely to go through with it if you tell someone and I didn't really want to kill myself I just wanted everything else to quit. He cried into my hair after I drove him home that night saying over and over "I love you, please don't die." It's fucked, but it's one of my fondest memories from that point in my life.

I got my shit together, to a certain degree, by learning how to walk away and when to leave. There are a lot of people that I love or had loved that aren't in my life anymore. I had to learn how to let them go, how to say goodbye and be at peace with it. In the beginning, I didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. You make peace at the funeral or you don't. I got mixed up wanting to save people I had already lost by sacrificing my own happiness to the people that were still there. The thought of losing anyone else was unbearable, but I learned that leaving is more than just self preservation, it's a gift to both parties.

People will make their own decisions and possibly find their own happiness with or without you. It's not that you aren't responsible for them (you also aren't) it's that you don't have enough control in the outcome. Picture it like being a passenger in a car. Someone else has control of the wheel, the gas, and the breaks. You can direct them as much as you like, but it is their hands and their feet that are making the decisions. You can beg them to not crash the car, or you can get out of the car and hope they have enough sense on their own not to crash. If you, like me, have been in many metaphorical car crashes it's more than grief at that point. It's an injury. You wont find an end to your grief until you figure out how to tend to your wounds.

Because sometimes you are the driver and it's your own decisions that may cause you to crash. Somewhere in me is still the 21 year old that wanted to kill herself. Sometimes, if I'm not careful, she'll surface. I can't be mad at her for it, I remember the things she went through and the things she did to feel like she had any control. I didn't always love her, but I think I'm learning to now. More importantly, I've learned that it's okay to leave her alone. It's okay to grow beyond her instead of joining her. She did fine, she made it just enough to make room for the person I am today, and I think if she was really here, she would thank me. Her friend had told her that she needed to learn how to hold her own hand, how to be her own solace first. That advice got her through a lot, but I think I would tell her now that it's also okay to let go.

I know you might be in different place and that there may not be as much time and distance between the parts of yourself you haven't yet learned how to love. Maybe you're in danger of crashing your metaphorical car, or a part of you wishes for it. It doesn't make you a bad person. We are all made up of complex experiences and thoughts. The people that love you will give you the space to air the worst parts of yourself and they will be there when you are done. I know because I've done those things and I am still very much loved. I have been destitute. I have been a drunk and abused drugs. I have wanted my own death. I have loved people that did not deserve it and been treated badly for it. I have treated those that loved me badly. When I was going through it, I was unable to see a future in which it would ever end. I thought I would always be grieving, that I would always be lonely. But at the end of all of that there was always something more. My sisters had their babies. It was the perfect day outside. My nieces and nephews were growing like weeds. An old friend had reached out. I had people that loved me, that supported me whether or not I needed them to.

The thing that has taken me the longest time to learn is how to be supported and how to be loved. I had a friend who was once very good at saying the things I needed to hear. He called me out on all my bullshit and, more than that, his love was the scaffolding that helped me repair myself. He told me once that the only thing holding me back was me. I grappled with that for a long time and even as I began to understand it, I was still angry. I hated myself for it, and then finally I looked back at the root of who I was before the loss and the anger and the shame. I found the pieces of myself that I had buried in an attempt to protect them. I found a person in me I could love and I watered her like a seed. Somewhere in you is that same seed. We can water it ourselves, and sometimes if you let the right person in, they can water it too.

#open letter #depression #substance abuse tw #suicide tw #loss #self love #growth #self help #advice

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