#She was never going to be able to make it not matter without having a conversation with him about it
I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.
Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.
I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.
Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.
Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?
She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.
This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.
This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.
I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.
This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.
Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.
Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.
The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!
But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.
She's ready, but Hunter is not.
You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.
But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?
And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.
And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.
Because that's what fathers do.
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is it over now? (was it over then?)
part four
part five: i was hoping you'd be there
Robin managed to keep her shit together for approximately ten minutes after she stopped watching Steve make his way through security and into the depths of the airport. In the ride back to Steve's place, her leg was shaking so much Nancy discreetly grabbed Robin's pinky and held it in the back of the car.
The rest of the trafficky route back to Steve's all Robin could think about was how to fix things. She knew Steve didn't tell her about Eddie so she could fix things and Steve didn't run off to Italy to hide from everything but the situation still bothered Robin. She hadn't known Eddie for a terribly long time but he made her dingus happy so she held him in relatively high regard. It didn't make sense for him to just cut tail and run without leaving some sort of door open for a resolution and Robin was going to her darndest to figure out how on earth she could find that crack.
When they got back to Steve's apartment, Nancy didn't let Robin go long without asking for an explanation.
"Robs, babe, what is going on?" Nancy asked.
"I need to figure out how to solve Steve and Eddie." Robin answered.
"I don't think Steve wants you too. He seemed pretty resolved to close that chapter." Nancy urged.
"I know what he said but that's not what he wants. Also Eddie is a huge dummy if he doesn't realize how good he had it with Steve and also that Steve would never cheat on anyone. Especially not after y'all's whole thing. No offense." Robin continued.
"Okay so we aren't letting this go. What's the plan?" Nancy asked.
"Thanks for your support, love. I just can't figure out why Eddie jumped to the conclusion that you and Steve were together again. I mean no offense but like that ship very publicly sailed," Robin said.
"I'm trying really hard not to take offense but the more often you say it the more I am having trouble not being offended," Nancy snarked.
"Sorry, dingus wormed his way into my little heart long before you so I still gotta give you shit over soulmate solidarity. But back to the matter at hand. Eddie only assumed you would only be visiting Steve if you were trying to get back together when really you were coming to see little old me. So what if I came out. Like what if we came out? And shared some of the pictures from like super early on and thanked Steve for being a great friend for many years when I wasn't ready to take that step," Robin knew she was rambling but, hell, she was on a roll.
"Are you ready for that? I'm happy to take your lead on all this. It's not like we haven't already told everyone who is actually important to us. I mostly write freelance nowadays anyways so there isn't really some big bag corporate overlord I need to worry about. You know Steve doesn't need you to do this? It's one thing if you're ready to come out on your own, it's a whole different thing to do it for someone else," Nancy counseled.
"I really think I'm ready. I'm sick of Steve feeling like he needs to come to everything with me and you're stateside a lot more often and I'd love to go out on dates without the next day having like a million articles speculate if you're trying to move in on Steve. I think it's time," Robin rationalized.
"All right, then. We're doing this. Should we use this as an excuse to make Jon take cute couple pictures of us?" Nancy giggled a little at her suggestion.
"Yes! Perfect. Get him over here. Operation Save Dingus from his Self Sacrifice is a go!" Robin jumped up on the couch to make her point and Nancy immediately had to come to her aid as she wobbled enough to lose her balance.
Robin was excited. She was ready for the next step with Nancy and if it helped Steve get out of his own head and/or convinced a certain metalhead with very few remaining braincells to get his head out of his ass then so be it. Robin couldn't wait to think of all the sappy shit Nancy would pretend to be annoyed at she'd be able to do now. Steve would be back in a few weeks so Robin anxiously awaited Jon's response and started several caption ideas in her notes app.
@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)
it's not quite fixed yet but we are getting so close!!!
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bruised bonus -> six years back
m.list
♪ now playing: pride by kendrick lamar ♪
Her sneakers squeak against the hard linoleum floor as she sprints through the gymnasium, out of breath and the layer of sweat on her skin turned cold.
The evidence of her lost match is all over her: fresh, smudged blood leaving a trail from her nose to the bottom of her chin, her hands and fingers meticulously wrapped in white cotton, her hair disheveled and knotted. It was only on the bus ride from the ring to the gym that she was able to get her gloves off and stuff them into the depths of her bag.
She'll have time to wash the loss off of her later. For now, she sprints through the stands, down concrete stairs, ignoring the cheers and chants of each team's supporters. She only stops when she rams into the edge of the stands at the bottom of the stairs, hands bracing the barrier in front of her.
At once, her eyes find Iwaizumi on the court, and it's only then that she stops to catch her breath. The back of her hand swipes under her nose, wiping away a trickle of blood and smudging it along bumpy edge of her arm wrap. They're at the start of the third set.
She made it. Chest still heaving, she smiles at the realization. She didn't miss it.
She settles there, dropping her bag beside her feet and leaning over the edge to watch closer. Volleyball's not her area of expertise, no matter how many times Oikawa tries to explain it to her. It moves too quickly for her to keep track of, and she can't differentiate the genius plays from the normal ones.
But she loves to watch Iwaizumi play.
He plays volleyball the way that she boxes: heavy, forceful, head-on. Though Iwaizumi does tend to be the more deliberate, level-headed athlete. She watches him spike the ball, and it reverbs against the ground in a way that makes her flinch.
Iwaizumi plays in a way that's reliable and intentional. She can fight irrationally and erratically.
Her eyes trail Iwaizumi as he moves throughout the court. She doesn't follow the ball or its path; she stays fixated on her best friend.
In any other game, she’d call out to him. Yell his name at the top of her lungs and let it be known to him that she’s there. But there’s a deep concentration etched into his features, and she doesn’t want to be the one to break it.
Oikawa would kill her.
A few odd looks are tossed in her direction between volleys, people eyeing the bright red shorts and arm wraps and fresh, blossoming bruises. She doesn't really notice. Her time at these games is usually spent talking to whoever’s around her: charming parents of students she’s never formally met, gossiping with Oikawa’s cute fans and telling them the most embarrassing stories she could think of from when they were younger, provoking supporters of opposing teams. But today, her sole focus is on the game before her.
The game progresses, tight and unyielding. She notices halfway through the set the way that she bites down on her lip and tenses each time the ball drifts over to their side of the court. It makes her heart sink when the ball slams to the ground, when they’re blocked, when they dive for a ball that bounces against the ground right in front of them. She finds herself yelling in encouragement without meaning to at every receive, serve, and spike done well.
She doesn’t think she’s seen a game like this one, the grip on the railing in front of her making her knuckles go white. Iwaizumi dives to the ground to retrieve a ball, both desperate and ferocious, and she thinks of his words to her the night before.
I just don’t want this to be it. I don’t want it to be over.
The scores creep up. The ball falls right in front of Oikawa’s face. “Shit,” she mumbles under breath, mouth feeling dry.
It doesn’t matter if she lost today. She’ll get to fight again. More than anything, she wants this win for them. She doesn’t want this to be it for him.
The game continues. Everything seems louder and faster when it does. She watches in a nervous fascination as things occur too quickly for her comprehension. And now she’s transfixed by the back and forth. An exclamation of curses leaves her lips as Oikawa slams into a table, out of bounds, and sets the ball back over to Iwaizumi. Her heartbeat is in her throat as she tries desperately to follow, and she blinks, and then, the ball drops.
And it takes her a second to realize what that means.
Oikawa spots her first, waiting in the hallways outside of the gym, dragging his feet and cursing to himself. He rolls his eyes at the spot of her. “Oh great, you were here to see us lose. How wonderful,” he spits out, voice drenched in agitation.
She doesn’t take it personally. Oikawa’s always like this when he loses. “You played good, Kawa,” she comments, meaning it, but not wanting to say anything further to upset him.
He scoffs, and eyes the now dried blood that stains her face. “Hope you lost too,” he snarks.
“I did,” she shrugs. “She kicked my ass.”
“Well, that makes me feel a little better,” Oikawa mumbles, and then looks over his shoulder behind him. “Your boyfriend got held up by Yuda, should be out in a second.”
The loss is so fresh for him, she decides not to bother correcting him. Oikawa can have this one. She gives him a firm pat on the shoulder that’s meant to be affectionate, but it jerks him forwards harshly. He gives her one last lingering look of annoyance before he steps away.
Iwaizumi isn’t far behind. He turns the corner and spots her, straightening up at the sight of her. “Hey,” he greets, stepping in front of her. Iwaizumi raises a knuckle and gently knocks it against the hollow of her cheek. “Couldn’t at least wash your face before you came?”
“Didn’t wanna miss anymore than I had to,” she tells him. “You played well, Haji.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he counters, brow furrowed. He keeps his gaze fixed on her busted lip and bruised jawline. “We still lost.”
“Who cares? I lost too. Everyone loses,” she tells him, but she doesn’t really believe it. She knows it matters to him. She knows that he’ll care no matter what she says.
“I missed that last one,” he states. “If I had gotten it then maybe-“
“You play a team sport, Haji,” she cuts him off. “Don’t shoulder the entire loss because of one spike that didn’t score. You still played in a way you should be proud of.”
Iwaizumi raises his hand and cups it around the back of her head, rustling her hair and knotting it up even worse. “You sound like Oikawa, you jerk,” he teases lightly, and uses that hand to pull her into his chest. Automatically, her arms wrap loosely around his waist. “Thanks for coming,” he says, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Sorry you lost your match. I was hoping at least one of us would’ve won.”
Just slightly, he goes limp against her, like he’s finally able to release all of the tension that’s built up and kept him going. Her arms snake tighter around him, letting him know that she’s there to hold him up, if he needs her to.
She almost tells him that she would’ve rather he won than her, but she doesn’t it. She knows him well enough to know that it would just piss him off more. “Yeah. I should kick everyone on Karasuno’s ass to make up for it.”
Iwaizumi chuckles lightly against her. “Yeah, that I’d like to see.” He lets go of her then, and he takes a step back to give her a strained, small smile. “I gotta go soon. You’ll be around tonight?”
She knows what he means when he asks that. It’s the same routine they always have after a loss. Iwaizumi can’t be alone with his thoughts. He’ll start to blame himself and his thoughts will spiral. So she’s taken to sneaking in through his window in the middle of the night to distract him. Just to make sure he’s not alone.
“Yeah,” she confirms with a slight smile of her own. “I’ll be around. Just text me.”
He nods and lifts his hand to rustle the top of her hair, again. And even though he keeps the smile on his face, she can the frustration in his eyes and way he struggles to maintain it. “See you later.”
And it’s just past midnight when she gets the text from him. She’s already on her bike, on her way there when it vibrates in her pocket. The way she fights can be irrational and erratic. She rushes into it and she gets too hot too fast. That’s why she loses matches. In the ring, she’s not consistent. She’s not reliable. She’s not dependable.
But as the wind whips her hair as she flies down the street, she takes some comfort in knowing that she’s capable of it. She can be like Iwaizumi when he’s on the court. If not in the ring, then she can be like that for him, when he needs her to be.
an: childhood friends to lovers is such an important trope to me but whenever i write it cannot help but write tons and tons of backstory because there is NOTHING i love more than character/relationship development over time and exploring relationship dynamics so expect more of this tbh. currently planning little flashback chapters every five chapters or so. unless everyone hates this. then it never happened.
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @hikikaimar @needtoloveoutloud @iheartpinky @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @causenessus @frootloopscos @0moonii @ekeio @milkwithspicyicecubes @michivrse @phoenix-eclipses @rinthegoose69 @melancholy-nightmares @kottonkndyy @hermaeusmorax (complete this form to be added, it is the only way to be added)
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You were supposed to go to your hometown for the weekends. Unfortunately, there was a storm coming in the area so your mother, being the worrywart that she is, strictly told you to just stay in your apartment because it'll be dangerous if you push through with your travel.
And you did.
However, as early as ten in the morning, you were already bored as hell. You've tried taking a nap since the weather was perfect for it but it wasn't working, so you just stayed up and decided to review for your exams even though they are still a month away.
Moments later, you were already so immersed in reading when your phone suddenly rang. You absentmindedly answered it without even bothering to check who it was.
"Hello?"
"Did you just woke up?" You heard a familiar voice on the other line. It only took you half a second for you to recognize that it was Seokmin.
"Nope. Been awake since four. What's up?"
"Nothing. Just checking up on you. Your mom said you didn't go home?"
"Yes, I didn't. Storm's a bitch," you automatically groaned when you remember how disappointed you were earlier. You leaned back on your chair, "Why would she tell you though?"
"Well, she said her daughter might be crying because she's alone in her apartment right now."
"Stop it, Seok. I know she didn't say that. And besides, I'm already an adult. I can handle myself," you confidently defended yourself which made him chuckle.
"I'm sure you can. Looks like I have nothing to worry about then. I'll hang up now."
"Okay," you waited for him to hang up before you could go back to what you were doing seconds have passed but he still didn't drop the call. "I thought you're hanging up."
"I can't."
"I knew it," It was now your turn to laugh. You know he'd be saying a cheesy line any minute now, like he always does. You already told him that it makes you cringe but he still says them for you anyway. Because he knows that no matter how much you deny it, it still makes your heart flutter like crazy. "I bet you'll say something like you love hearing my voice, won't you?"
"You got me. I can listen to your voice the whole day."
"Well, Mister. You can't just hear it for free, I'm sorry. Your trial period is over. I'll be hanging up right now," you opted to teasing him, because you were too shy to admit you also feel the same way for him.
"Then how does hamburger and pizza sound for a payment?"
Your mouth automatically went agape when you heard his offer. You haven't eaten any breakfast because you were so lazy to get out and buy something. Plus, it's also near lunch time now and your stomach is already growling in hunger. Talk about perfect timing!
"Okay! Deal! I'll wait for it!"
"You're so quick when it comes to food, aren't you?"
"You know I live for it."
"Then is it me or hamburgers?"
"Don't be cruel. I never once made you choose between ramyeon and me."
"Okay," he chuckled. "Fair point."
"Did you already order it?"
"It's already on its way, Madam."
"I'm sorry. You know how impatient am I when I'm starving--" you weren't able to finish what you were saying when you were interrupted by a sudden knocking . "Wait, someone's at my door. I'll just check who it is."
You hurriedly went out of your room and it wasn't long before you arrived at your front door. When you finally opened it, there he was...
A guy wearing a black hoodie, holding two boxes of pizza and hamburgers in his left hand with his phone on his right hand, smiling shyly at you.
"Hi, love."
You let out a chortle and pulled him into a hug. It obviously surprised him but he still hugged you back eventually and then kissed the top of your head.
It was definitely Seokmin, your cheesy sweet boyfriend.
—♡—
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Hey, this is a somewhat complicated personal thing? But I’d really like your weigh in on it— you’re a blogger who’s perspective i respect a lot. I’m wondering if i have the right to call myself palestinian.
A bit of background- i’m a romani-jew. My family is, as far back as i can trace, indigenous to palestine, but when my grandmother was a baby was forced out and fled across the continent to romania, and eventually she left for the US to become a doctor. I believe this was around 1947 when they were forced out, if i’m pinning it to other timelines, but she isn’t sure and neither am i, so i don’t think i have the right to claim that. She doesn’t identify as Palestinian, only roma, and practically raised herself without her parents (who were absent via work) and identifies as jewish, vehemently anti-israeli and not actively practicing because of that. I was raised jewish, but really often with scorn to most local jewish orgs and institutions, and i know my family is very actively excluded from the bullshit ‘right to return’ programmes in our area because we are, well, roma, despite how at this point compared to my grandmother we are very pale— to them, it’s a blood thing. My father is no contact with my grandmother, so i was not raised with her. My father does not identify as Palestinian as well. I wasn’t raised with her culture and practices because of that— I am almost completely divorced from what would be my own culture, but i still, when i hear her stories now, and her perspective on the very active genocide going on, wonder if i have the right to speak on it as a voice with any authority on the matter. Am i able to identify as palestinian? Do i have any claim to it at all, really?
i wrote practically a whole essay and then tumblr deleted it right before i could post. so i'm gonna make my response significantly shorter, but i'll explain why.
you are not allowed to call yourself palestinian. you were never raised as one, you were never part of the culture, and your family does not identify at all as the people of the land. you have not lived your life as a palestinian, and you do not have claim or authority to speak on the matter at the same level of other palestinians at all. it is not your right to call yourself palestinian, and claiming to have any authority of what the palestinian experience is like is incorrect. i assume you're about a quarter palestinian, yes? but only by blood. not by culture or connection or anything. your family identifies as romani, and do not identify with the palestinian identity. you have not experienced life as a palestinian, diaspora or not, and you have not suffered the same type of oppression that indigenous palestinians have faced. while your father would be half palestinian (i assume), he could technically be considered as palestinian diaspora (as would your grandmother), but since both of them have been disconnected from the culture, and don't identify as palestinian, then you do not have claim to that identity. like for example my grandma is half (i'm unsure about the percentage) turkish and palestinian, but my mom does not identify as turkish, and i do not identify as turkish either, because i was never part of the culture and never lived my life as a turkish person. i can say im part turkish by blood as a random fun fact, but claiming i have authority to be a turkish person is not correct. i also want to mention that being palestinian is a nationality, not a race or a specific ethnicity, so that is another factor you must consider when evaluating your identity.
you can, however, look more into palestinian culture and try learning about it. i hope when palestine is free, you can come visit and fall in love with our hospitality and culture, and look into your ancestors who lived there. and if you'd like to connect back with your palestinian roots, that's absolutely something that we are welcoming and would love for you to do. many palestinians who fled during the nakba have a tough history and connection with the land, so i'm sorry your grandma had to leave and disconnect with palestine, but i hope one day you can come to a free palestine and celebrate with us.
if your grandmother was a baby during the nakba, i assume you're very young. around teenage years (early twenties maybe). i know that figuring out your identity is a big part of this stage in your life and you're probably looking into your family's past. i suggest to look into palestinian culture, but don't discard the romani and jewish part of you. being part of those communities is a very culturally rich experience and you should be proud of that. don't stress too much on having to "choose" what you're trying to connect to.
in the end, i can't tell you what to identify as with your romani-jewish family and your palestinian ancestry, but calling yourself palestinian currently is not right. i hope i answered your question.
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She's Safe
Am I evil for posting this on bad batch eve? maybe.
The force ghosts have cursed me for hopefully the last time.
I'm sorry. I wrote this in an hour so its really short i just had to get it out.
Spoilers?? Probably.
Dedicated to a friend who's tik tok inspired me
TW: Main Character death.
She's here.
She's safe.
She’s hugging him.
He's slipping.
She tries to hold him up.
He slips through her fingers.
Laying on the ground all he can sense is her next to him.
Hunter’s helmet hits the floor.
When had he taken that off?
Her eyes find his and she’s saying…something
Why can’t he hear her?
Everything is muffled like he has his noise dampening on in his helmet, but his helmet is on the ground.
How did he get here?
Where is here?
Tantiss, he remembers.
Omega.
They couldn't find her.
Crosshair and Wrecker had fought.
Who would guard the doors?
Who would stay behind to fight the squadrons of troopers trying to follow them?
Neither letting the other say the words they all feared.
Hunter had slipped out.
Hitting the keypad on the way.
He made sure his little brothers were safe.
He was not going to lose another one.
He ignored the sounds of fists against durasteel.
And stood in front of what looked like hundreds of troopers.
He had raised his hand to the side of his helmet and activated his com.
“Get her. Get Out. Plan 99.”
With those words he had let a single tear roll down his face, hidden behind his helmet.
He had taken a deep breath letting go of everything outside that room.
Everything but Omega.
He had to make sure they could get her out.
He had fought.
And fought.
And fought.
They kept coming.
He kept fighting.
Fighting for her.
Fighting for his brothers.
So they could live.
He wished that this didn't have to happen.
That they didn't have to go through this again.
But his family is strong.
Resilient.
He wouldn't be here if they werent.
He takes another trooper down and not for the first time wishes he could have seen Omega one more time.
He’s covered in injuries, bruises. Parts of his armor cracked.
Gouges in the plastoid where a blaster shot had gotten just too close.
He kept fighting.
He wasnt going down without the fight of his life.
But one man against hundreds?
He was good, but not that good.
He’s disarmed.
His vibroblade was thrown across the room. His blasters in another corner.
He got hit.
Arm.
Leg.
Side.
This was it.
He wasn’t going to see her grow up.
The troopers had all started closing in on him.
He had raised his fists ready to go down swinging.
Then he felt a huge explosion.
He heard over a fallen trooper’s com that the Zillo beast had gotten out.
He laughed. Laughed! Because he knew that that was his family.
He was unstable but had remained standing.
He heard the blast doors being wrenched open.
He heard his daughter call his name.
And he turns and smiles.
“Omega”
She's here.
She's safe.
He's dying.
His mind races.
He won’t be there. He's going to miss everything.
Sure he will miss his brothers too but he grew up with them.
He will never see Omega grow up.
Never see her go to school like a normal kid.
Never see her get married.
He’d never see her become the strong young woman that he can already see the foundation of today.
As the dark spots grow larger and his chest grows heavier he is only able to look in Omega’s direction and say so softly she barely hears it.
“I love you.”
He can barely see Wrecker and Crosshair behind her.
His fight is over.
But Omega is safe.
She’s safe and that's all that matters.
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happy may!! you know what that means…
kit9 progress report #5
this time, we get these two images:
brand new andrew sprite!! clearly something is wrong. it isn’t out of the question to assume that this andrew is probably possessed. i don’t think andrew would be making that face while talking to himself about camping of all things. he’s on his own, somewhere, with a perfectly good demon-summoning setup right there! i wonder where ashley is?
and, speaking of ashley, we have the… kind of intense second picture. yeah, i know, cannibalism and incest game and i find her crying to be intense. but, we’ve never seen ashley cry before. we’ve seen her shout whine and pout, and we’ve seen her hysterical, but we’ve never seen her full-on sobbing. she looks so defeated :( her makeup is messy, her eyes are flat, and she just generally doesn’t look like she’s having a nice time. i’ve seen people assume that she’s thinking about andrew here, and i agree! who else could make ashley feel so bad??
(poor girl…)
next, we have a new video!!
here are some screenshots:
lots to dissect here!!
i think this place is the same abandoned place we saw in the previous devlog! which is, of course, the abandoned factory that we know they played at as kids. we don’t see much of the building from the flashbacks with nina in episodes one and two, but the implication is there.
second, andrew accidentally summoned a demon!! as an adult, he’s proud of ashely for doing the same thing. well, hers was on purpose, even if she got there accidentally. anyway, i wonder what kind of “deal” actually happened, because i don’t think this demon hated vegetables like carrots and broccoli. this post proposes that the term “vegetables” has something to do with cannibalism…
…i hope it’s not as ableist as it sounds, but… maybe…?
andy wakes up some time later, laying in the circle when he wasn’t before, and is covered in red flowers. we see these same red flowers in ashley’s demon-dreams. the summoning circle is different than the ones we’ve seen so far, but we learned with andrew and ashley’s parents that the layout of the circle and pentagrams don’t exactly matter when summoning demons. it can be an oval, there could be any number of smaller pentagrams, it’s whatever. that may be because of the trinket ashley has, but lord unknown was able to be summoned instead of ashley’s demon, so who knows!
andy questions how he passed out, and says that he “thought [he] ate enough at lunch.” we already know the graves’ parents aren’t the best, and we know that they severely neglected ashley. we also know that mr. graves neglected andrew, and couldn’t even remember his name. it wouldn’t surprise me if andy and leyley went without food sometimes, or even frequently, or more often than not. and, it wouldn’t surprise me if andrew prioritized ashley eating over himself eating, too. it’s something that i’ll keep in mind going in to episode three!!
we see leyley scream in the video, and the player as andy rushes to her. the youtube video cuts off before andy leaves this room, but it makes me wonder: what would make leyley scream? she isn’t yelling, either at someone or something, and we’ve seen that she’s pretty unimpressed with stuff that’d usually make kids upset (abandoned buildings, dead bodies, murder, horror movies, and more). so, what happened? did she see something? hear something? who or what would make leyley scream?
hmm…
also, a workaround has been found for the technical issues mentioned last devlog, which i’m happy about! they’re now focusing on enhancing the editor tools to hopefully get back on track to “make up for lost time,” as they said. i’m still super excited for episode three!!!
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I have such emotional thoughts about Ep40 Limbo and Minkowski telling Eiffel "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want it to matter. I was trying to make it not matter." It's such an insane thing to say about learning without any context or detail that your friend and crew member was convicted of kidnapping and child endangerment.
It's one thing to learn that someone did something awful and not to care because you don't care about them or their morals (the SI-5 approach). It's another thing to learn that someone did something awful and not to care because you can empathise with them and it's who they are now that matters (the Hera and Lovelace approach). And it's an entirely different thing to learn that someone did something awful and to want desperately not to care but to be unable to stop yourself from caring.
When there was no specificity to Eiffel's tragic backstory, Minkowski successfully made it not matter. Back in Ep15 What's Up Doc?, when Hilbert was hinting at Eiffel's secret that he wouldn't want Minkowski to know about, she trusted him with no "hesitance or doubt". In principle, on an abstract intellectual level, his past doesn't matter to her. But as soon as she has some of the specifics, her ability to trust him without question is shaken, because that trust isn't just about the abstract intellectual level. It's emotional too.
Eiffel really matters to Minkowski, so of course she doesn't want what she learned about his past to change that. But part of what matters to Minkowski about Eiffel is that she trusts him, that she believes that he does the morally right thing when it counts, and that he's the kind of person she thinks he is. The particular way in which he matters to her, when combined with her personality and her values, means that the bad things he's done in the past have to matter to her too. Because the way in which he matters to her is tied up in her sense of him as an ultimately moral person, the spokesperson of Team What's Wrong With Handcuffs.
In typical Minkowski fashion, she wants to make herself not care about it through sheer stubborn power of will. Maybe if she doesn't speak to him, she can pretend she doesn't know. Maybe if she pretends she doesn't know, she won't think about it. Maybe if she doesn't think about it, it won't matter to her. Maybe if it doesn't matter to her, then she can rebuild her idea of him as a good person on her own and she won't ever have to talk to him about it. But three months roll by, and it still matters to her. It still matters to her, and she still wants it not to.
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in a hilarious turn of events my flatmate didn't even know I use any pronouns....
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Yes it might have taken me an embarrassingly long time to really pay attention to it but in ASIAS, along with the 'half a witch' parallel, both Hunter and Willow are motivated by upholding the legacy of those who came before them. That picture of Gilbert and Harvey being flyer derby champions is just as significant to her as the Golden Guard sigil is to him.
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found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?
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it’s 3am so please enjoy my favorite painting in the world while i reflect introspectively in the tags thank u ♡
day and the dawnstar by herbert james draper
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my heart rate at work right now confirming my greatest fear that i will actually never be able to safely bind!! literally there will be no relief until top surgery!! i want to cry!!!!
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AAAAH forever stress is going to kill me one day
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Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.
"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."
"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"
"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"
The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.
“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”
“No- no, that’s not-”
Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"
"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.
"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."
Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.
"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."
The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.
When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.
"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.
"Another?"
He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.
"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."
Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.
"Does he know of the Realms?"
"Vaguely, I believe."
"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."
Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.
"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.
——
Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.
“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.
“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”
“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.
“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.
“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.
“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.
“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.
“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.
Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.
“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.
“Buy us some time!”
With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.
——
The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.
“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.
“Sire, we have more-”
“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.
——
“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”
A boy
Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”
Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”
“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.
“Brother, kill the whelp.”
“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.
“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”
In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.
“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”
“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?
“Is it?”
——
Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…
“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”
Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.
“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”
“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.
“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”
“You’re not-” they said.
“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.
“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.
“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.
“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”
“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.
“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.
“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”
“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”
“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”
“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.
“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.
“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”
——
Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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