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greenglowinspooks · 6 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

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Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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alexcabotgf · 4 months

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THE MATRIX 1999 dir. The Wachowskis

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electrozeistyking · 3 months

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Tiny Disassembler Tries To Put Himself in Second Food Coma; Girlfriend Won't Let Him

(you better believe that first time was an accident)

#love this lil guy #uzi's like ''YOU CAN'T DO THAT'' and he's just ''AHHHH!''#he can't talk but he can still scream #the struggle of uzi doorman trying to keep her boyfriend from knocking himself out #meanwhile v is laughing her head off... what can i say uzi ''arguing'' with a tiny drone is hilarious #murder drones #murder drones uzi #murder drones n #murder drones v #serial designation n #serial designation v #uzi doorman #tiny n au #nuzi #listen i just make a lot of art and they're all sitting in my files #this was all done with my finger because my old apple pencil gave out btw #TINY N'S HUNGRY LEAVE HIM ALONE #zeisty’s goofs

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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i can’t close my eyes alone ; satoru gojo

synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!

a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33

okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.

it’s not comfortable at all.

maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep.

or someone.

(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)

— nope. you are not going back there.

just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.

your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek.

still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.

it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue.

slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.

soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.

so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —

the light flickers on.

in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub.

the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.

satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.

chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.

”you’re ridiculous.”

the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow.

”turn it off!”

ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.

you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.

you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting.

despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.

and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.

because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.

remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.

(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)

then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.

which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.

and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes.

(he can’t sleep, either.)

”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.

a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”

satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”

”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”

another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic.

”you’ll hurt your back.”

another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him.

”so what?”

a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn.

what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?

god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.

but if you aren’t there, then…

a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”

your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.

it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it.

”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.

satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.

(that should be his chest.)

the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.

satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.

a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.

a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.

”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”

your ears perk up.

shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.

is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.

”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”

…

wow.

okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.

beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid.

clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.

”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”

under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.

god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.

he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.

and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do.

he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.

(without you, he can’t —)

a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.

the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.

so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.

(he knows that you’re tired, too.)

so satoru swallows his pride.

the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.

”… i can’t sleep without you.”

satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.

— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.

(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)

it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help.

with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression.

satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.

then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.

he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.

”… please?”

a second passes. then two.

soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless.

(he’s just too pretty.)

without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly.

and satoru brightens.

it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.

a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue.

”c’mere.”

before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.

almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.

satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.

with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.

satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”

after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.

despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.

and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.

smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.

two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.

he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.

”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.

”… the bathtub was fine.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.

”stubborn girl.”

despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —

but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress.

and satoru stifles a coo.

”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”

before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.

unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.

his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.

”my pretty, pretty girl.”

a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.

he looks so content.

all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.

”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.

satoru notices it, though. he always does.

”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.

averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.

despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.

”… you never take me seriously.”

satoru’s eyes soften.

his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.

(you look so small.)

two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu.

”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”

as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.

tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology.

for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.

nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.

he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him.

”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.

satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”

a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.

and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.

finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.

(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)

#im not arguing w satoru gojo lol . whatever u say princess ! <3 #this is an old piece that i polished a lil (lot) phshdh so the writing might not b anything special but !! i kinda like this toru .#just sleep-deprived n grumpy <33 #gojo has this duality where he can be silly n goofy but then also serious when he needs to be… n kinda gruff….#but then he also has this. Sincere Tenderness to him. that i think would bleed through w someone he loves #hhhhh i love this man w all my heart T_T #usually i make all my fics gn but. smth abt satoru gojo …. callling u his pretty girl………… yeah. sorry. for being this way #me personally i would fold immediately but i respect reader for trying #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you

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runninguplenorahills · 1 year

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Actually the moment Gaten Matarazzo confirmed that Mike is in love with Will

I will never get over this lmaoo

#byler #okay but imagine the fucking cafeteria scene #the duffers be like #CUT! OKAY. FINN CAN YOU LEAN IN JUST A LITTLE MORE INTO JOSEPH? YES JUST LIKE THAT!#AND GATEN YOU GOTTA LEAN A BIT FURTHER AWAY FOR THE CONTRAST. YES! PERFECT!#NOW LET’S TRY THAT AGAIN!#lmaooo #mike wheeler is gay and naturally the whole main cast knows #this is about how some people used to argue that no one knows about mike being in love with will #not even finn?? and i’m like?????#guys #they were there when the scenes were shot💀#everyone fucking knows #stranger things #gaten matarazzo

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asteroids-and-tractorbeams · 1 year

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Everyone saying “boo hoo if only Anakin had a therapist” sure is forgetting that scene with Yoda where he was trying to figure out if Anakin was okay and he completely denied that there was anything wrong at all

#not to get into any discourse BUT #Anakin didn’t let any of the Jedi help him #you can argue that they should have tried harder to help him but he was trying to act like there wasn’t anything going on #and then when he DID ask them for help (mace windu specifically) he turned around and picked Palpatine #revenge of the sith

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courtofterrasen · 10 days

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Alright, clearly some of you guys are just not getting it. So no more emotion from me; I am simply going to write in factual terms.

It takes a VAST amount of work to go into creating a series like Bad Batch. You have to go through writing, scene painting, 3D modeling, rigging, lighting, SFX, voice lines, editing, final production, etc; just to name a few. It takes hours upon hours upon hours of work for those animators to create all of the nuances in a scene, let alone in Bad Batch where there is an extremely high level of attention to detail. It’s not like anime where a character and background are mostly stationary while they talk. There’s constantly stuff happening in the background and they intentionally make choices that provide extremely little to the overall story and, in all honesty, take up a significant amount of their time and can be argued that they’re wasting their time and money and effort (I don’t think so, but I’m sure people could argue it if they thought that effort should be allocated elsewhere). But they do it because it provides a deeper sense of realism to the story as a whole and make it feel like a living, breathing world. For example, when a character trips a little bit or they animated them doing something slightly harder than it would have been otherwise or eyes darting around and studying someone. These are all very little things that take them hundreds of hours to get perfect. And those are the kinds of things that go unnoticed by the vast majority of people watching the show. Either because they don’t noticed the little detail that was put in at all, or they don’t understand the level of work that goes into creating little minute decisions like that. And all of those decisions that they make, both big and tiny, are given to them in specific instructions by the directors. When you think about the insane amount of work that goes into creating a show like Bad Batch, you realize that every single little detail that they choose to add in is intentional and was given to them via specific instruction. It’s not like in live-action shows where the actor can choose to make a subtle decision on the fly. There are hundreds of thousands of hours of work that go into this and every choice that they make is intentional. The lighting dept. has even confirmed this for us, saying that all of the lighting that they did was done very carefully and intentionally and to pay attention to what’s happening in the scene. Because there’s an extremely high level of detail that’s put into the show, based off of very detailed instructions that were presented to them.

Now. Taken all of these points into account, it’s critical to look at all of the little choices that were made when it comes to her character and the way that both she interacts with the world and the people around her, as well as how they, in turn, respond to her. Because, like the lighting dept. has already made very clear to us, every design choice they has been made in the creation of the show is 100% intentional. Even if that’s not something that they had said or wasn’t something you were aware of, when you focus on the aspect of animation, it’s sometimes hard to get a clear grasp on just how long it takes them to do these things. And that every little choice that they made was carried out under specific instruction. And that’s not even getting into the nuances of voice acting and understanding the subtle distinctions in the way someone talks and being able to discern the meaning behind their words based on dialect and the instructions they were given. And for someone who just casually watches the show, absolutely none of these are important. They’re watching it to watch it and no further thought is put into it. And there’s nothing wrong with that. People are allowed to watch things at a surface level and get enjoyment out of it.

For every character, they can be broken up into various parts:

•Their visual appearance

•Their behavior

•Their interactions with others and the world

•How others respond to their character

•Their small, subtle behaviors (such as a particular twitch or repetitive body movement that can be used to convey a deeper meaning)

•And their internal motives

In that order from the least to most complex. And these topics can also be used to understand the complexity of a character. For someone like Cid, all of these topics are touched on in a variety of ways.

•She’s different from them

•She’s gruff and money hungry

•She speaks to the Batch like they’re a bunch of kids and she knows better than them

•They never fully bring themselves to trust her and, at times, they see her has a burden

•Towards the end of their time together, she gets snappier, and whenever she’s around them her movements slow ever so slightly and she furrows her brows slightly a lot more than in the past

•And in the end, she betrays them

And that’s putting her character into a single sentence for every bullet point, which, for well written characters like Cid or Hemlock or Rampart or Nala Se, cuts a lot of things out.

When it comes to the way that Phee is written and what she contributes as a whole to the show, she is not a very complex character. I’m not going to go into every single scene with her, but I am going to touch on a few. And if I need to continue the discussion further to cover more scenes, then I will. On multiple instances, she puts the Batch into very dangerous situations, and overall appears to care very little for them as people unless it gets her something that she wants. This is made very evident when, for example, she gets Omega, a child, excited about a big grand adventure and Omega then convinced the Batch to go along with it. Even though they were very adamant about not doing it. This is said with both their words and their tense body language. They don’t want Omega to get hurt and they know it’s a bad idea; but in the end she’s able to convince them. Then, when they get to the site, she shows clear lack for them or their safety and proceeds to put them in a very dangerous situation where someone could have gotten seriously hurt or killed. And she shows no remorse for it. Her language, both verbal and bodily, are very loose and nonchalant, assuring them that she had everything under control and that they were able to handle it, despite their very clear frustration. This type of behavior is shown again and again and again as they continue to interact with her. Her actions relay to the viewer that she does not respect their boundaries, or arguably, them as people. Her words are designed to be rocks with a pretty bow on them. And again, this is not personal opinion or speculation. Every single word and action was carefully designed by the team. All the tensed muscles were created by a team of people working very hard to convey that to the audience. Every thinly veiled word was guided by a director when the VA came in to record the sessions. Every single choice was intentional for a very specific reason.

Tech likes things in a very specific way. He likes his ship to be in a particular order and takes very good care of its maintenance and upkeep. He prides himself on being able to maintain a good ship. He spends a lot of time on his data pad. It’s how he was designed on Kamino. That’s his link to his role in the group. He can do everything he needs to from there and, in certain scenarios throughout the show, you can see it provides him with a sense of comfort and stability. You can see this, not only in his subtle body language, but also in his fairly obvious body language with how he hunches over it. It’s reminiscent of a child hunching over a toy to bring it closer to them and protect it. It comforts him. You can also see, when he interacts with the rest of the Batch, his aversion to touch. It’s not significantly often that you see it, given that the rest of the Batch knows him better than anyone, but there are still times when physical contact or even just very close proximity happens and he either has a reaction by tensing up slightly or leaning away from it, or sometimes he doesn’t react to it at all and almost seems to not register it; such as when he’s focused on his work. Every little reaction that he has with his brothers was scripted and orchestrated for a very specific purpose. It conveys the nuances of who he is as a unique and individual person.

Keeping that in mind, when it comes to the way she interacts with Tech specifically and the Batch, it’s very clear to understand the dynamic behind them when you look close enough. To recall a few instances, there was a time when she was recounting a story about finding a big treasure and Tech says something along the lines of “she changes this story every time she tells it”. He’s conveying to both the people in the show and us as viewers that she is a liar. She is either changing the story to make herself seem cooler, or maybe it didn’t happen at all and she’s making the entire thing up. Which, I will briefly mention again, are traits synonymous with narcissists. In another instance, Tech, Omega, and Wrecker were having a conversation where Tech is reprimanding them for bringing items back from a junkyard that they were in that they thought were cool instead of what he asked them to go find and bring back for him. I’m this conversation, Phee inserts herself and tells Tech that it’s not junk; also, in that same instance, not calling him by his name, which I will get to in a minute. Tech, in that moment, is trying to work, and his conversation with the other two was interrupted and fizzles out as Omega gets excited about the idea of a treasure map. A third is when the group is on Pabu and Phee is trying to get Tech to converse with her. His body language is hunched, tense, and he averts eye contact with her. When she prods him further, he is unsure how to engage in the conversation. And when he doesn’t respond in the way that she’s wanting him to, she talks about him to the rest of the Batch as he stands there around him and says to them how he “doesn’t know how to have fun”. And then they proceed to laugh at him. And again, you can see in his body language that he is confused as to why they’re laughing at him as well as uncomfortable being in that situation. And going off of that for another small fourth instance, there is another moment when they are getting ready to leave Pabu and she approaches Tech, who is working alone and trying to avoid contact with anyone, and says to him “So you’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?” His body language immediately tenses, he hunches further in on himself around his datapad, and his words make it clear he is both unsure and unwanting of the conversation. And when he does not respond in the way that she wants him to, she moves the datapad away from him to make him focus on her. She removes the item that brings him the most security to force him into engaging in a conversation he is uncomfortable with having. And again, these are all very intentional choices. They are not left up for interpretation. They are there to tell us what the character is feeling in that moment. They are trying to convey to us that he is uncomfortable. Not that he’s shy around a girl he thinks is pretty. And given on other scenarios that have happened throughout the show, it’s very clear that interpersonal relationships with anyone outside of Omega and the Batch is not something that he’s interested in. If they wanted to convey that he found her attractive, there are routes they could have taken to ensure that that comes across correctly to the audience, such as a faint little blush or rubbing a hand through his hair. But they didn’t do that, and instead chose for him to shy away and hide from certain situations or tense up and keep his head down in others. They are conveying to us that he does not like being around her. Because every single action they made him carry out took hundreds of hours of work to execute, and they would not go through all that trouble for no reason.

Branching off of that, we reach the topic of Tech’s name. When you watch the series as a whole, you can count on one hand the number of times that Phee refers to Tech by his actual name, while she refers to the others as their actual names. This is different from Cid in the way that Cid made that intentional choice to call them different things as a way to maintain distance from them. It’s clear from both her body language and her words that she did not want to get close to them. And really, wanted nothing to do with them unless they made her money. These are intentional choices. Phee’s character is designed to be flighty and unbothered. And she wants what she wants when she wants it. The choice to call Tech names and refer to everyone else by their names is an intentional choice. Him not understanding why she does that is an intentional choice. She does not respect him, which is why she does this. She can see that he doesn’t know what to do about it, so she keeps doing it. Like when a person presses on a bruise. These are all intentional choices made by the directors.

There was also a comment that said she behaves exactly like Crosshair does. And there are a few things I think did not entirely process when they made that comment. The first being that Crosshair was written to be one of the main antagonists for the first two season. I know they appeared in Clone Wars as well, but I’m talking specifically about Bad Batch. He was designed to be a bad guy that goes through a redemption arc; just like Zuko did in ATLA, for those who enjoy it. They both started out as antagonists, had horrible things happen to them, realized along their journey that maybe they were wrong, and are able to redeem themselves in the end and side with, or in Cross’ case, return to, the protagonists. In the beginning Cross was very sharp and defensive and thought he knew what was best. But he grew over time and learned how to care for people and share his weaknesses instead of putting on a facade all the time. And that’s the difference. We are reaching the end of the series and Phee has never had character growth to the level that Crosshair has and softens and opens up to the rest of the group. She hasn’t had any character growth at all. She is still the same exact person she was when we met her. There have been characters who have appeared for significantly less time that her, and if you pay attention to them, they have had significantly more growth than her as well.

The problem that I have begun to notice with people who are so quick to defend her actions is that they seem to be focusing more on her than on anything else. When you focus on just her, I can see how someone could mistake these interactions for being positive. Because all they’re focusing on is someone who’s having fun, and of course that would translate to something positive for him. But for the people who focus on Tech, it becomes very evident that these interactions are not positive. When you watch Tech, and I mean actually pay attention to him and not just watch him, you see all the subtle signs that you would otherwise miss. Him being annoyed and uncomfortable and confused and tired and generally not enjoying being around her. And this, unfortunately, happens a lot in real life too. People don’t take the time to absorb both sides of what’s happening. And since we as humans are quicker to pick up on people who are happy as opposed to people who are not, it’s so easy to miss the signals and just assume that what you’re watching is a happy interaction and put forth no further effort into making sure that’s actually what’s happening.

There is no other way to say that these things are all intentional. They wrote, designed, and sent out something that they have spent the past few years creating. When you understand the level of work that was put into it all, there are a lot of things that become very clear. And sure, headcanons exist and people can speculate what happens between the episodes. But headcanons can only go so far before it becomes ridiculous. We cannot confirm that Echo didn’t run off to go have a quiet life with Cid, but that doesn’t automatically mean that it’s true. Inferring things that are not within the realm of possibility is not conducive. Assuming that Phee spent a lot of time talking about her adventures that she may or may not have had with the Batch between the episodes? That’s conducive and we have clear evidence that would support that. Assuming that her and Tech had a very close relationship and she always listens to what he had to say between episodes? As much as some people want it to be true, it’s just not. There is no evidence that supports that line of thinking, and, in fact, there is a vast amount of evidence that would actually conform the opposite; such as Phee talking over everyone and commanding the conversation, not respecting things that Tech says, etc.

I’m going to wrap this up by talking a bit more personally now. There are plenty of people assuming that I’m a racist or a misogynist or that my literacy skills are lacking or whatever, but because you’re upset that someone is calling out the awful behavior of someone you like doesn’t make it any less true. And that applies to both this type of situation and in real life. I know who I am and what I stand for, and you trying to tell me that I’m otherwise changes nothing. And defaulting to assumptions like that shows that either you do not watch the show with a more attentive eye, or that’s all that you see Phee for. A black woman. Both of which are issues.

People are allowed to not like black characters, even if they are black.

People are allowed to not like Asian characters, even if they are Asian.

People are allowed to not like female characters, even if they’re women (or AFAB people).

People are allowed to not like LGBTQ characters, even if they are queer.

People are allowed to not like neurodivergent characters, even if they are neurodivergent.

People are allowed to not like characters that display particular traits or thought processes, even if they share those same traits or thought processes.

People are allowed to not like characters if they think that the character is bad.

Also, for the people saying I’m using my autism as a shield clearly don’t understand how autism works? I don’t say that to be an excuse. I say that to provide context and reasoning behind the things that I say. Like many other neurodivergent people do. You all are getting pressed about the wrong things. If you want to debate the time and study I’ve put into the show because I genuinely enjoy it, then be my guest. But don’t throw out petty insults and waste everyone’s time. At least put forth some more critical thinking behind it and try to figure out why someone could be saying the things that they’re saying

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ganondoodle · 2 days

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correct me if im wrong but im PRETTY sure that for something to be a proper sequel it needs more than literally just reusing the same world and character models and slightly altering their design or adding an ability (that they got somwhere in between which isnt shown nor elaborated on either while previous abilities or interests/knowledge vanish)

made the mistake of saying that really totk isnt a sequel bc it doesnt build on, nor expand nor elaborate nor continue anything from botw, its the same preset of basic things like ... world and character models and tells an entirely different story utterly disconnected from anything botw, which it not only acts like it never happened (aside from like one dialog which is not enough for me when everyone else has literally forgotten everything and tbh feels more like a reference thats actually a slap and laugh in your face) but often times actively contradicts it, like a different version of the same thing

which is called an alternative universe

half of the reasons why i despise totk is bc i wanted, expected and was TOLD its a sequel when it isnt, can you really blame me for being disappointed and frustrated when i was told its a sequel, which should build on established stuff, to a game and its lore i deeply cared about and then get an alternative universe game that has nothing to do with the one i cared about except wear its face and STILL get told its a sequel even just by simply reusing models

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #god everytime i voice a single opinion on twitter i have to reexperience why i stopped saying anything about totk over there #im so close to blocking people just for starting an argument over and over again trying to tell me im wrong thinkging the games bad #even when i dont actually say its bad #just that its not what you were told it is #and still people go OOOOH YOU HATE IT AND YOU ARE WRONG GET ARGUED WITH BITCH #shut uuup #well thanks to tumblr for being more chill about it #at least i can rant here all i want as clearly as i want #can you imagine how mad people would get if i said I THINK TOTK SUCKS ASS AND IS THE WORST ZELDA AND NOT WORTH THAT STUPID PRICE TAG

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muzyoshi · 1 year

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Miles Edgeworth's Secret

This post is purely for documentation purposes, and also to inform anyone who may not be aware. This post will contain SPOILERS for the end of Phoenix Wright: Trials & Tribulations, so proceed with caution.

During Case 5, Bridge to the Turnabout, while playing as Edgeworth, you are presented the opportunity to peer into Iris' heart. Specifically in regards to a secret she is withholding from Phoenix, someone she was romantically involved with. During which, if the player fails to present the correct evidence specifically for the second Psyche-Lock, an interesting conversation concerning the nature of secrets occurs.

I have seen talk of this dialogue, but no footage or screenshots, so I took the liberty of getting them myself. The full conversation and my further thoughts will be found under the cut.

You MUST present incorrect evidence during the second Psyche-Lock. This dialogue is laughably easy to miss, which is why I could find zero footage of it. (Sorry if the formatting for this sucks)

(Interesting to note: the music stops playing here.)

Incidentally, Iris' secret is that she developed romantic feelings for Phoenix while dating him in college (disguised as her twin sister). Edgeworth affirms her thoughts, confirming that he does indeed have a secret of similar nature deep within his heart and soul; "It takes one to know one." It cannot be said what exactly this secret of his is, but every real plot point behind Edgeworth has been more or less resolved by this point in the series. He found his path as a prosecutor, the truth behind his involvement in the DL-6 incident was concluded, so... What's left? Reading between the lines, this only really seems to lead us to one answer. It has something to do with romantic feelings. I truly can't see it being anything else, even with a critical mind.

Just mere moments ago, Iris had inquired as to what Edgeworth and Phoenix' relationship was. Edgeworth (famously) responds that Wright is a "dear and indispensable friend". Wonder if Iris gleamed something deeper from that comment, then? ;P Keep in mind: she makes these comments directly because Edgeworth avoided presenting Phoenix Wright's profile.

"he just like me fr" - iris probably

Now, just for completion's sake, let's see what happens when you present Phoenix's profile and break the Psyche-Lock.

I have a lot of thoughts regarding this string of text from the two of them. This is a huge reach from an admittedly shipper-crazed brain, but aren't Edgeworth's retorts here... interesting? He does not know this girl, but he knows that the two of them are important to one another. We can assume it's likely that he is pushing for this for Wright's sake, rather than Iris'. At this point it's fair to say that Edgeworth has some basic understanding of her secret (the feelings, at least), and he doesn't benefit from her telling Phoenix her secret. So why is he adamant that she does it? Especially when he's, apparently, holding a secret of similar nature himself? Projecting, perhaps?

"But it's pointless..." "Why would you say that?"

Why indeed.

(EDIT) I was thinking about this feverishly, and I had another thought. What if the "darkness in his heart" and his "secret" has something to do with jealousy? Still in context of romantic feelings... it starts to make sense that this could fit into the puzzle as well. By this point it was already established to Edgeworth that Phoenix and Iris share an intimate connection of some kind, and with all of this pressuring (including the words the two of them share before Edgeworth leaves the Detention Centre), it sort of adds up. "Uncovering the truth" in order to "get rid of the deep-seated darkness in [his] heart" - could this refer to closure? As in, if Iris comes forth to Phoenix Wright with her secret, and there is some level of reciprocation, would this make Edgeworth's own secret/feelings "pointless" to confess? I wonder.

One last note I'd like to make is that this is the first time we view Edgeworth through the 'protagonist lens', and that a great deal of care was put into having the player truly feel like they are Miles Edgeworth in this moment. His mannerisms, choice of words and thought patterns are decidedly very different than Phoenix's when you are in control of them, as I'm sure most people would agree. Therefore, I feel comfortable proposing that a lot of what he says here isn't filler, and in fact is very deliberately worded.

I think this post also deserves a spot here.

Diehard Narumitsu/Wrightworth shippers are likely already aware of this conversation's existence. However, due to the circumstances necessary to see it, I wasn't able to find any screenshots. I hope this was interesting to read, at least... Thanks for reading!

#ace attorney #ace attorney spoilers #aa3 #aa trials and tribulations #bridge to the turnabout #narumitsu #wrightworth #I wanted to write more but I would have gone on a tangent #there's just Too Much Evidence #I'm interested to hear other peoples' thoughts on this #I try not to let the shipper lens obscure the truth too much #but how can you even argue this one...

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