#(he needs to feel like hes fighting for a cause and that hes being righteous in his anger to not break down and think about what hes lost)

[blushouyo]

thinking very hard about the ending of tfone and megatron's reasoning behind the things he says and does... at first i couldn't reconcile with the way he spits out the word prime when referring to optimus bc ???? the primes were never the problem... it was sentinel ?? but then i realised that other than it being bc sentinel tainted the idea for him somewhat. it's also probably bc he's deliberately separating orion from optimus for his own sake... deciding that his best friend really did die when he dropped him as the other option is too difficult for him to even think about acknowledging in his current mental state... 🥲

[letters-to-rosie]

random Ekko thoughts

so I'm trying to get a little fic writing in, and I was thinking of some timebomb takes I've seen recently. I realized that a lot of opinions people have on their relationship and how it's depicted center around Jinx, and I was wondering what care people give towards writing Ekko, so here are some things I like to include when writing him:

perfectionist. Ekko, at least in League canon, goes back and forth over and over to craft a perfect moment. I think he'd be observant, detail-oriented, probably a little neurotic, definitely the type to replay an awkward interaction over and over in his head in the shower or before falling asleep

emotionally guarded. first, I gotta say I don't think Ekko would want to be this way. but he's been through so much he finds it useful to have walls up. it's not like all the toughness is a defense mechanism—he fights for what he believes in and is clearly very brave (who else makes hoverboards ffs). he does miss, though, the times and people that allowed him to be more vulnerable, and he treasures it when he has it. his childhood ended way too soon

chronic overthinker. this goes back to the perfectionism, but I think he'd constantly be questioning everything. he's good on his feet, but he likes to have a plan, and he'd tends to think about those for a long time

charismatic as hell. this one I think is proven by the show, lol. Ekko seems very personable, likes to haggle (at least as a kid), and is liked enough to lead a resistance movement. I think he'd make good speeches and be good at convincing people. this would, of course, cause drama with Jinx, because he'd be like "all these people believe in me and my former best friend doesn't," ow

drama. I like to give him a pretty dramatic inner monologue, lol. I also like to think he's self-aware enough to realize he's being dramatic in the moment and to then continue the drama anyway

enjoyer of thrills. hoverboard. need I say more?

childish and playful side. didn't get to have a full childhood and cherishes getting to let that side out. cue fluff

fidgeter. it preceded the tinkering

player of mind games. this is mostly based on how he treats Caitlyn and Vi after kidnapping them, putting them through what essentially amounts to tests (for, imo, understandable reasons). he also goads Jinx into a game he knows he'll be able to win. I think he'd apply this thinking to other scenarios, be they big or small

too-big sense of responsibility. would feed into the drama for sure. he feels the weight of his community on his shoulders, and because he wants things to go well, and because they're counting on him, he takes on a lot that he maybe should not

self-righteous. he strikes me as filled with righteous anger. he's right, most of the time. on the occasion he isn't, this causes problems

proud. wouldn't be a real issue in most situations, but it's there

irreverent. he flips off cops as a kid. we love him for this

smart. this is obvious, but sometimes can be forgotten in the fandom. I'd see Ekko as book-smart and having street-smarts (or at least a lot more than Jayce, but that's a low bar). I think his verbal skills would also be a bit more polished than some of the other science-inclined characters (cough cough Jinx). I think it's also notable that among the others (Jayce, Viktor, Heimerdinger, Jinx), Ekko is the main science character who has no access to proper schooling at any point. sure, he has his job with Benzo, but it's unclear how much that would have taught him. Silco probably got at least books for Jinx, and the others had real teachers. there's an element of resourcefulness in Ekko's smarts which is laudable, imo

very dorky. we love a man with range. I feel like he would be able to operate on multiple levels, one in which he's this cool charismatic leader and another when you get to know him better, who makes science puns and has a lot of insecurities, which naturally leave him replaying awkward conversations in the shower. layers!

idealistic. you have to give people what they need to live

heart of gold. one thing that always strikes me is that Ekko is really the only member of the main cast concerned enough with the plight of the average person in Zaun to make it his whole business. he's tending to the crisis in a way that is simultaneously very grounded and (again) idealistic, where substance use recovery is very much needed in the setting but he's also (perhaps in contrast to Vander) throwing himself into battles that are unsustainable because he believes in his cause, even if the persecution is so bad he has to hide over it

disaster bi (this one is for me)

Ekko's a really layered and interesting character. I wanted to bring up some things I think about when writing him because of posts I've seen recently about him being reduced to "Jinx's boyfriend" (due to anti-black racism, of course) and posts just kinda about timebomb in general? I think because it's been canon that Ekko has a crush of Jinx for so long, it's easy to take that for granted and not give much thought to his side of the ship. we also spend a lot more time in Jinx's head than his in the show, even though the brief moment we do spend in his head introduces a whole new art style and the best song on the soundtrack (fight me)

obviously, I'm a shameless Ekko and Firelights stan. he's my favorite character in Arcane and one of my favorites in anything ever, so it was fun to flesh out my headcanons, things I think are extrapolatable from canon, and just some of the traits that go into writing him. if people have others (or just traits and things they think are interesting) I'd love to hear them! I love my brilliant and contradictory boy!

[queers-gambit]

Careful What You Wish For

prompt: he's highly reactive, you're incredibly enduring. he's a righteous dick, you're criminally empathetic. he's temperamental, you're amenable. but you're done being his doormat. -> or in which Billy resorts to breaking up when you two fight, but when he comes to make up (like clockwork), you finally have a change of heart.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5k+

warnings: it's not much so don't expect a lot! author has Daddy Issues™️ and you're gonna deal with it, cursing, drama for drama's sake, Billy Boy's trauma translates into a toxic relationship, feelings are hard, abrupt ending, angst, hurt not a lot of comfort; healthy parent relationship? wild.

and NO this is NOT influenced by Hoover's book / Blake's movie! i have NOT read the book nor seen the movie, so if you recognize similarities, it's 100% unintentional!

To be reactive means to impulsively act upon circumstances instead of rationally considering situations that would asses a humane, clean, agreeable, "legal" response. To be reactive is exactly what it sounds like. It's reacting. It's not thinking, it's not being considerate or logical. It's being fueled by emotion, to be impulsive and rash. To be reactive was borderline selfish as the response is one-sided and results from only a single person's perspective.

Part of growing up is learning to handle your reactions; to absorb situations and consider the best possible option forward. Thing is, it's not a skill people could master in a day, week, month, year - it took a lot of time, focus, and constant, conscious dedication. People in high school were attempting to master this skill; people in college, their 20's - hell, there's even people in their 30's and 40's still trying to learn and perfect the ability to fucking handle their reactiveness.

So, in actuality, you couldn't fault Billy for being "this" way. It's not like he was doing it consciously, maliciously, or on purpose; he genuinely didn't know better and it's hard to unlearn lessons life taught you. Considering the environment he grew up in, you knew Billy stood absolutely no chance to learn and develop healthy coping mechanisms and forms of communication - but Christ, it was difficult to date him.

All romantic bullshit aside, Billy's attitude was increasingly concerning the further your relationship progressed. He required a lot of love and patience - of which, you had an abundance of and was happy to give. Yet that's the key word, abundance - NOT unlimited. He's sensitive, meaning easily irritated; damn near any and everything inconvenienced him. His mouth moved before his neurons could fire. He refused to compromise or admit defeat like Flat Earthers refuse scientific evidence. He would always choose throwing a fist over using his words. He embodied the cutting image of "bad boy", but he also lived it if his lack of manners and foul mouth was any indication. He was aloof, malcontent, egotistical, had the emotional intelligence of a fucking jellyfish, operated as an iron lock with a thrown-away key.

And Billy loves you. You knew, in his way, he loves you. But you also knew how hard it was for Billy to have any degree of emotion for any given reason. This meant more often than not, you worried his feelings for you were forced, or at the very least, ebbed and waned. Odd, isn't it? How his trauma causes a trauma response in you?

Billy was far from perfect, but you didn't need him perfect. You needed him to be loving, supportive, kind and caring, honest, empathetic... All things nobody would EVER think of when trying to describe Billy.

Yet you two worked. Polar opposites; two ends of the spectrum; a flowery romance novel and a doomed tragedy.

You used to think he was the ebony ink and you, the pure snow in the Yin and Yang symbol - or a taijitu. He was dark and brooding and abused and hateful - but with you, as that single dot of white, he felt balanced. You're bright, blinding, glittering, passionate - and with Billy, he added that speck of darkness (or realism) to your purity.

Sure, this could mean literally since you lost your virginity to him within a couple months of dating, but more so in the sense that Billy's pessimism was darkening your optimism; almost as if he was pouring water from your glass into his to force you to see your glass (read: reality) as half empty. It was as if he was corrupting you. Yet perhaps not in the sense we all might think - like he takes you to party all weekend, blow off school, engage in sketchy or concerning or dangerous activities, experiment with drugs and sexual positions that border on acrobatic. His corruption was more along the lines of draining you; where you were once bright and happy, so excited to love and be loved, to live life; you're now just tired and passive and accepting.

Billy wasn't easy to love. When you first started dating, it felt like a challenge - winning him over. You were determined to prove yourself ideal, capable, and willing to endure him and all his (and his family's) antics. Yet as time passed, you fell so deeply in love with him that you didn't even remember why you first kept coming back for more. He was intoxicating; he invades any space and commandeers not just attention, but leadership and control.

Billy was the flame. You, the moth. Yet eventually, fires will die. They will not burn forever. Whether from a lack of oxygen, wood, or something like the wind snuffs it, no flame ever endures forever. And now, the flame was dying and you were finding lesser reason to linger around dwindling warmth.

You see, there's only SO much a person can take. Being so reactive, fighting with Billy is fucking clockwork. It's eerily like a science the way you two will always fight when one of you has the realization, "Wow, things are SO peaceful and SO nice right now!" Naturally, because God (or karma, the universe, whoever) had a sense of humor, would choose that moment to cause issue.

Fights with Billy were usually sparked by something decently simple - like you being paired with Jason Carver for a tutoring session, or taking an extra 10 minutes in the shower after your sports practice, or telling him, "Sorry, I can't go out Friday, baby, I told the Wheeler's I'd babysit." This would cause Billy to spiral. Akin to a ripe, seasonal Kansas tornado.

Fights with Billy usually got personal, and since you knew and trusted one another so well, there was plenty of ammunition. Insults were hurled for an unGodly amount of time, but it was because Billy loved pulling loose threads to watch everything unravel.

Fights with Billy usually ended in a single, consistent manner: with him breaking up with you. Oh, it was infuriating! Billy had both fight and flight instincts - you know, from being so reactive - that he was all for throwing a punch, but when it came to real accountability or resolution, he'd flee; never caring about who he might hurt in the process. He'd engage his "fight" response, and then turn around and "flee", only to return later and resume fighting! Talk about fucking whiplash! Billy was like a wrecking ball, and if you were gonna fight, he was gonna make sure he was ready for it.

This fight was no different.

You can't even remember why it started, but it did and now, you sat on the front porch stairs of your family home, head bowed into your arms while silently weeping. Was it sadness? Was it despair? Acceptance? Frustration? Defeat? Was it anger that made you cry? Were these tears of humor? Disbelief? Exhaustion?

Perhaps all of the above at once.

"Look, I just think we need to take a break. From each other."

You held your breath, rolling your lips between your teeth and slowly looking up at the boy you loved and hated most in this world. Billy was standing at the bottom of the stairs, one arm propped on the freshly painted wooden bannister to hold his balance; watching you with mild remorse, mostly neutrality. You smirked mirthlessly, nodding, "Right, okay."

Billy scoffed, ash falling from the end of his lit cigarette, asking, "Really not gon' say nothin'? Don't wanna fight or argue 'bout this?"

"Why bother, Billy?" You snipped, wiping your tears. "You do this every time. Fuck's sake, it's like something gets a little hard or inconvenient and we break-up."

He scoffed, "Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Well, maybe this is the last time, sweetheart."

You just sighed, "Okay, Bee. I'm gonna go in, you kinda interrupted movie night to do this. So, now that you have, cool if I go in? Great, get home safe." You stood without waiting for his answer, turning for the front door and immediately seeking refuge inside. You locked the doorknob, then the deadbolt, and just for dramatic flare, latched the chain, too.

Using the sleeves of your shirt, you dried your face.

"Who was that, honey?" Your mother asked as you entered the dark living room, sighing as you dropped into your spot on the sofa; taking your little sister in arms as she settled on your chest once more.

"Just Billy."

"Oh, he didn't want to come in?"

"No, Mama, he had to go."

"Shame," she sighed, "I thought he would like this movie."

You only hummed, draping a thin blanket over you and your sister. "Pops. Hey, hey," you whispered, hand out, wiggling your foot into your father's thigh, "dad, hey. Daddy." Without looking, he handed over the bowl of popcorn mixed with Peanut M&M's and jumped when the sound boomed and the screen flashed with blinding action.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't focus on the heavy Austrian accent of the time traveling Terminator. Your head repeated the argument with Billy; how it had now spanned over several days and he had the audacity to knock at your door tonight, interrupting the week-standing movie night he KNEW your family participated in, and proceeded to break-up with you - AGAIN!

Yet something felt so fucking different this time.

You weren't sad by this "break-up" (yet) because you knew he was just being reactive and sensitive, but something didn't sit right about tonight. Your parents both worked incredibly long hours at tedious, stressful jobs, but they were very firm that every Thursday night was movie night - and Billy knew this. He knew where you were every Thursday. He knew better than to interrupt, he knew this time together was sacred since your parents worked so frequently but also actually seemed to like family time.

So, he chose tonight as the best time to initiate this break? Your heart hammered as you began to convince yourself this was a malicious move; he knowingly came to your house to inflict emotional turmoil when you were with family. It was deliberate, it was a manipulative power move; knowing he had such a hold on you that even during your beloved family time of bonding, despite being in a fight, you would still receive him; still come back to him.

Angry tears coated your eyes as Sarah Connor fought for her life. Where Billy was always highly reactive, being the eldest daughter, you were resilient and enduring; able to handle anything thrown your way. You were rational, decently calm; able to think through a storm, being only motivated by the sight of the sun. Billy had a bad attitude, he was arrogant, his ego inflated by the small town girls all drooling over him, but it was his abuse and lack of coping ability that made him into a righteous dick. Perhaps that was why he was attracted to you, being so empathetic and understanding that it bordered on criminal - especially with the way it slowly drained you of life. Billy was temperamental, angry and hurt by the world; and you were amenable, agreeable - not a pushover, but similar to water in the sense that you could adapt and conform to any space, shape, or circumstance you're put in (willingly or not).

Something in your gut finally clicked.

You're done being his doormat. Loving Billy was dismantling you brick by brick; he thought because you were so accepting and understanding that he could act anyway he wanted, get away with it, and you'd always forgive him. You'd always take him back. He could rip your heart out of your chest, crush it into dust, and you'd still thank him when he sprinkles it in your hands - because at least he did that. At least he gave you a sprinkle. You were supposed to be grateful - never-minding that he was the one who continuously hurt you in the first place.

Your eyes drifted from the television to your mother and father sat together at the far end of the couch. 20 years married, and they still sat together like high school teens; his arm around her shoulders, kept close, sharing snacks, a throw blanket cocooning their legs. They were so gentle with one another; relying majorly on nonverbal communication, like when there's a jump scare, your father's thumb would sweep over the back of your mother's hand resting on his lap. It was a grounding technique you have long taken note of, but seeing it now just made you sad.

The desire to have a relationship like your parents was strong, but what was even stronger was simply setting a good example for your sister. You'd be devastated if you ever learned she dated a man like Billy; who put her through the emotional wringer for no direct or good reason. You thought you'd tell her it wasn't her job to fix anyone; it wasn't her responsibility or burden to help mold a boy into a man. Your heart would shatter if you learned she was like you - crying to sleep, throwing towels over all mirrors to avoid any reflection, walking on eggshells in an effort to keep the peace you weren't even charged with!

Watching her eyes glittering in the glow of the action movie, you knew what you had to do. If you didn't practice what you preached, you had no true leg to stand on; your words become contradictory, your concerns warped by perspective. You didn't want her to look at your parents, then at you and Billy, and think someone was wrong - or that love was somewhere in between your relationship examples. You wanted her to know love wasn't supposed to hurt, and if you needed her to understand that she deserved the best of the best, you needed to walk the walk that you talked.

Blinking back tears, you resigned yourself to forcing the feeling of contentment; hugging your sister closer, relishing the feeling of your father's warmth against the bottom of your feet where they laid. And as if he could read your mind, your father mutely kept his one arm around your mother, the other laying on your ankle; glancing over to catch your eye and offer a small, soft smile before focusing on the movie again.

You pecked your sister's forehead quickly, whispering, "You okay, Bug?"

"Uh-huh."

"Not too scared?"

"No," she answered, completely entranced by the television.

"Sure?"

"Uh-huh. Can you pause it?" She asked your father, who almost instantly reached for the remote to hit pause. Your sister jumped up and rushed from the living room before quickly doubling back to hang in the doorway, "I'll be back." Then she dipped behind the wall, only to pop back out a second later and punctuate, "With weapons!"

The living room was full of boisterous laughter as she scampered off to the bathroom.

There was a gentle knock at your closed bedroom door, head lifting from the lowered crane it unconsciously drooped into while reading the novel on your lap. With a grimace, you rubbed your neck and called, "Come in!"

"Hey, honey," your father spoke softly, poking his head in, "got a second?"

"Yeah, sure, Daddy, c'min."

He offered a small smile and entered at full, shutting the door behind him and confirming what you sensed - this was sure to be a serious conversation. He sat gingerly at the foot of your bed, heaving a great sigh, asking, "Whatcha readin'?"

"Oh, uh, just," you showed him the cover of your book, "it's for school, I have to write a report on it."

"Is it interesting?"

"It has a good message," you allotted, making him snicker. "I'm trying to be nice!"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, sighing again. "Listen, honey, I just wanted to talk to you about... You know, Billy."

"We use condoms, Daddy, and I'm on birth control."

"While that's great and exactly what every father wants to hear," he whined, "that's not what I meant."

"Oh," you sat up, book marked and set aside, "you mean tonight?"

"Yeah."

You shrugged, "It's not that big of a deal."

"You sure?"

"I got a handle on things, Daddy."

"I don't know if I can believe that, honey," he frowned, dimples on display, "because - you've - you're just..." He paused, shaking his head, "Your mother and I are worried about you. You're different since dating Billy and it's hard to ignore. I know it might not be comfortable to talk about, but you know you can always come to us, right?"

You nodded, "I know, Daddy."

"Good. 'Cause, he's 18, right?"

"I'm almost afraid to answer that, but yes...?"

Your father nodded, "Good, so I can legally kick his ass."

"Being friends with Hopper helps."

"Damn straight," he confirmed. "You sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah, we just broke up."

"What!?"

"Daddy, chill," you chuckled, "we do this every few weeks."

"Oh, Jesus - "

"But it's the last time!"

"Well, how can you be sure?"

"'Cause I deserve better."

The sigh your father released was out of relief, musing, "Goddamn right you do! Good girl!" He leaned in to peck your forehead quickly, patting your leg. "Well, I'll let you get back to reading..."

"Hang on," you halted him, feeling your heart lurch, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything, kid."

"Do you... not... like Billy?"

"Well, now that I know you two break up every few weeks, less so."

"Daddy."

He nodded, "I thought he was an all right kid, and you never had an ill word to say about him. But he was always kinda troubled, something about him always made me a little suspicious. Is there reason I shouldn't like him...?"

You stared at your father for several long seconds, both with varying expressions as you tried to telepathically communicate. When you understood his meaning, you blanched, "Wait - woah - hey - what!? No! No, Daddy!" You groaned, "Jesus, no! Billy's - Billy's troubled, yes, but he's not abusive or aggressive - not with me! I swear!"

"I'm sorry, I just - I needed to be sure! There's no easy way to ask these things, you know?"

"I know," you nodded, "and I appreciate you checking, but I promise, I'm okay, Billy's not like that. He's abrasive, yes, but he's still respectful."

"Noted," your father breathed, "that's actually relieving. So, uh... Am I supposed to bring you ice cream? Or rent some romcoms? This is your first break-up and I'm not sure what to do."

Your eyes rolled lightly, "Not yet, but keep that energy for when the emotions really set in."

"I'll stock up after work tomorrow," he promised.

"You're... Home this weekend?"

"Your mother and I thought for the next couple months, we'll take a break from conferences," he grinned, "spend some time with our favorite girls. Maybe even take a family vacation this summer!"

You grinned, "You mean it?"

"Of course!"

You launched into his embrace with a laugh, both full of mirth and amusement. Instead of leaving, your father actually situated comfortably on your bed and listened to your read your book - reminding him of the days he read you bedtime stories. He eyed the essay prompt your teacher had passed out with his listening ears on, and when there was a quote or relevant detail he thought related to your thesis, he made sure to speak up.

It was the most at-peace you've felt in ages.

"Bug! You have exactly 90 seconds to get down here!" You hollered into the house, walking out the front door while storing your novel in your book bag. Turning forward, you gasped when you nearly ran into Billy - standing before you, fresh as a fucking daisy. "Jesus Christ, Billy, you scared me," you scolded, keys jangling.

"Sorry," he muttered, sighing, hands going to his back pockets, "didn't think you'd be comin' out so quick."

"We gotta catch the bus," you told him, turning to holler again into the open door, "BUG! LET'S GO!"

"Why? You know I normally drive you two."

"Yeah, but we broke-up last night, Bee, didn't think you'd wanna play taxi driver still."

"It's not bein' a taxi - "

"You live on the other side of town," you scoffed, "my house is literally out of your way. So, don't feed me that line." You could see Max leaning on the passenger door from where Billy's Camaro was parked on the street, waving to her; watching her grin and wave back. "What're you doin' here?" You asked him pointedly.

"Look, I know we argued and I got a little mouthy, but I was just pissed off and reacted poorly. But I slept on it, and I'm sorry for what I said. Can we please just try to move on?"

You scoffed, "Billy, you do this so often, I can't keep up anymore. Your insecurity isn't your fault, you're not to be crucified for it, but I can't be your punching bag. You can't lose your cool and yell and get 'mouthy', break up with me, run away for me to deal with shit, and then come back the next day. So, I appreciate the offer, but Bug and I are gonna catch the bus 'cause... Because..."

"Because why, baby?" He asked, voice hazy and thick.

"Because you should really be careful what you wish for, Billy, you might just get it. I think we should honor this break-up."

"What?" Billy breathed in earnest confusion. "No, hold up - "

"Billy, I'm sorry, I am. You know I love you - "

"So you're breaking up with me, 'cause you love me?"

"You're the one who broke up with me, Billy," you reminded, "and yes, I do love you, but I have to love me, too. I can't do them simultaneously, it seems."

"Of course you can - "

"Loving you means disrespecting myself," you told him. "Every time I come back to you, I'm chipping away at who I am. You and I - we used to be so good for each other, Bee. Remember? But now? You're just on this warpath and I refuse to be a casualty. So, yes, I love you, I love you so much, but I don't think we should be together anymore. I need time alone, to breathe and figure out who I am outside of you - and you obviously need time to process and get your shit together. If we stay together, we're only gonna hurt each other. But apart, we can freely move and improve and curate change without risk of harm to the other."

You both just stared at one another, the sound of thundering footsteps heard from behind you. "Bee!" Your sister squealed when she rushed out the door.

"Hey, Bug!" He beamed, bending to scoop her in his arms - just like she wanted. "Woah, woah, woah - when did you get such cool shoes, kid?" He asked her, holding her ankle to show off her tie-dye canvas shoes.

"Daddy got them! Aren't they cool!?"

"So cool."

"Do you want a pair? We can match!"

Billy smirked, setting her on her feet, "Tell you what, Bug, if you can find a pair my size, I'll match with'cha, yeah?"

"I'll tell Daddy!" She gasped, turning to look up at you. "Can we ride with Billy to school?"

"Not to - "

"'Course, kid, c'mon," Billy cut you off, and it was like you never even opened your mouth with the way your sister bounded down the porch, over the yard, and towards Max.

"Billy," you grumbled.

"You really wanna break the kid's heart this early in the day?" He asked, sighing and offering his hand. "C'mon, just until the end of today - she'll have the weekend to process."

"You know we're not a married couple getting a divorce and Bug is our kid?" You grumbled, slapping your hand into his and allowing him to lead you towards his car; where his sister was settling yours in the backseat.

"Might as well be."

"You're dramatic."

He only hummed, opening your passenger door and waiting until you were inside safely before shutting the door. You greeted Max happily in the backseat, Billy getting in the driver's and pulling off safely - slowly - to start towards the elementary school. While the middle and high school conveniently shared a lot, the elementary school was just a couple streets over. Bug was excited to tell the car all about her upcoming "field day", where the entire school participated in these outside courses, doing various physical activities - it was all good, honest fun.

"What team were you on?" Bug asked Max. "I'm on the Blue Team!" She proudly pulled out the bottom of her shirt; showing off the color. "We won last year, too!"

"Woah! That's so cool, you gonna win again this year?" Max asked.

"Uh-huh! Did your team win?"

"We didn't have field day."

"What?" Bug asked, sounding heartbroken.

"They didn't go to school here, Bug," you told her from the passenger seat, "they lived in California. Remember?"

Bug frowned, "You didn't get to play?"

"We had other activities," Max assured, "we just didn't have a whole day of it - your school sounds so cool!"

"You should come!" Bug gasped. "Today! You and Bee should come! Then you could have field day, too!"

Your heart melted listening to Max tell her why she and Billy couldn't - but that she needed Bug to pay extra close, extra special attention to the games so they could all play together later in their very own field day. You didn't have the heart to halt the plans, to tell Bug why that wouldn't be happening.

You felt Billy's eyes on you periodically through the drive, sisters in the back discussing what California was like. Bug was fascinated by the beaches - having never been - and asked all kinds of questions, nearly exploding in excitement when she learned Billy knew how to surf. You knew it was a source of anxiety for him; you knew Billy associated surfing with his mother and that ever since she left, he couldn't ride the waves. He wouldn't. It hurt too bad to look back on shore and miss that bright smile, yellow blonde hair he inherited, loose, free-flowing dress, and floppy straw hat.

Yet talking to Bug, he seemed relatively at ease.

From the back, Max watched as you, who hadn't so much as looked at Billy since he got in the car, reached over for his hand to hold in silent support. He held on tightly.

"All right, Bug," you called when Billy pulled up to the elementary school, getting out to pull the seat forward and assist her out.

"Bye, Max!" She hugged the redhead, then lunged between the seats, "Bye, Billy!"

She clamored out of the car, Billy fixing the seat for you as you knelt on the sidewalk and helped fix her backpack. "You good?" You checked, smirking at her.

"Uh-huh."

"Good. Listen, we'll take the bus home today, okay? Billy's got practice, so, remember - it's bus 104. Got it?"

"Bus 104."

"That's right, good girl. You get on bus 104, it'll take you to the high school and pick me up. All right?"

She took a deep breath, nodding, "I can do this."

"I know you can, Bug. All right, big hug!" You hummed as she wrapped her wee arms around your neck. "Oooooh! All right! That's good stuff!" She pulled back. "Have the best day, Bug. Love you."

"Love you," she messily pecked your cheek before rushing to join the procession of streaming kiddies. You stood straight and dusted off, sliding back into Billy's car, and once clear of the children, let his lead foot drop on the gas and speed into the school lot.

"Jesus," Max grumbled when the car swung into a parking space, "inna rush or something?"

"Just," Billy sighed deeply, shaking his head, "get out. You," he pointed at you, "stay put, we gotta talk." You remained, wishing Max a good day, watching her climb out of the car with her skateboard. As the redhead rode off for the middle school, Billy dropped back into his seat, slammed his door, and lit a cigarette with slightly trembling hands.

Silence echoed between you both, Billy handing over the cigarette mutely; students, peers, and faculty all milled around the Camaro to head into school. Smoke wafted from the rolled down windows. When time, the butt was tossed out and the silence remained.

"Bee," you whispered finally.

"I'm just..." He trailed, sighing, "Trying to savor this. Don't know when I'm gonna have you this close again."

He took your hand gently and stroked it with his thumb, emotion heavy in both your chests. "It's not like we're not gonna see each other again," you whispered.

"Not in the way I want."

"It's not like I want this, either."

"Then why're you doing this?"

You scoffed gently, "It's not me doing a damn thing, Billy, you've already done it all. I'm just holding you to your word because I know how fearful you are of commitment." You tossed his hand to his lap and grabbed your bag, reaching for the door handle, then pausing. "For the record," you ended softly, "I'm sorry, and I love you. I hope you find what you're looking for, Bee."

As you finally climbed from the sports car and into school, you felt like you were breathing air for the first time. Like you were feeling sunshine after a decade underground, like there were springs in your sneakers; vigor in your blood, optimism misting your mind into new possibilities. Yet, behind you, in a navy blue Camaro, Billy loosed two tears before tearing out of the parking lot in a fit of anger. Rage. Sadness. Desperation.

He wasn't seen at school the following week, but by the next weekend, rumors spread that he hooked up with both Allison Scott and Kimberly Jones at Donald Reefer's weekend party - so, you know, he seemed to be handling this break up well. It was what he wanted, after all.

And you? Let's just say, you were finally happy, healthy, feeling confident, rejuvenated, and ready to move forward and ONLY accept that which you KNOW you deserve.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[yanderes-galore]

Will you be willing to write a yandere concept for geto suguru from jjk with a sorcerer reader? I can't see him with a non-sorcerer reader.

Sure. He could technically be with either, but the dynamic is WAY different.

Yandere! Suguru Geto with Sorcerer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Genocidal views, Condescending behavior, Blood, Murder, Attempted brainwashing, Kidnapping, Psychological warfare, Degrading behavior, Possessive behavior, Forced companionship/relationship.

Compared to regular humans, Geto is very polite and caring towards his fellow Sorcerers and Curse Users.

Safe to say that his obsession being a Sorcerer or Curse User is the most common obsession he'd have once he's a Curse User.

Even more so if you're someone he knew before defecting.

You don't necessarily have to believe in his cause, he could care less as long as he has you.

Geto would feel you both are the superior race compared to normal humans.

He'd probably view you as family in some way like he does his commanders.

I will say this though, Geto is really fake.

Manipulation and fake personas are something he uses to get others to trust him often.

He knows the values of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

You like to protect the weak, which is the reason he prefers Curse Users.

You have such naive views in his eyes.

He's tossed away such views years ago.

Poor you... trying to get in his way like the rest of the Sorcerers?

I imagine Geto has some respect for you but believes your allegiance is misplaced.

This may also work better if he knew you along with Gojo.

Maybe you three were friends up until the Star Plasma Vessel incident.

You no doubt sensed Geto's change in demeanor but he always hid it from you.

He cared for you in his own way, just like he did with Gojo.

But you were too oblivious to the truth in his eyes...

Don't you know the world would be better off if Curses didn't exist and people could live life without them?

If Geto told you of such a thought, you might even agree with him.

Until he started committing massacres.

To see your friend go down such a path is... tragic.

You stayed with Gojo, even if Geto tried to convince you to stop being so oblivious.

Such a rift left you on poor terms with the Curse User.

Oh, he still adores his beloved companion and friend...

He just hates that you decided to protect the monkeys rather than cull them.

It's a shame, really....

You have such potential.

Geto would probably not kill you for a couple reasons.

One, he most likely either knew you before or sees you as a possible student.

Two, he doesn't want to waste your potential.

Meaning Geto would focus on isolation and capture more than killing you.

If anything, he'd want to give you a chance at change.

You can help him break the cycle... you just need to learn how to kill non-sorcerers.

Due to how charismatic Geto is with people, he'd try and convert you by force.

Now, now, don't fight him.

Fighting him will only make things harder for yourself.

I can see Geto doing everything in his power to break you down.

I'm talking things like kidnapping, isolation, degradation, all sorts of things to mess with your head and break your resolve.

Geto may even kill non-sorcerers in front of you to show how weak they are, how you couldn't help them even if you tried just like he couldn't....

Geto would take pleasure in this, too.

If you just agreed with him, if you just listened...

You wouldn't have to go through this.

But, no, you want to be all innocent and righteous.

Fine, be that way, he'll make you see his way.

Geto would break you, making you used to all the bloodshed and whispering small words of propaganda and encouragement in your ear... then he'll make you his little puppet.

He's condescending, laughing when you shake at the blood covering your clothes and hands.

This is the real world, dear!

Why not help him remake it?

He stops being condescending and degrading when you break and listen to him.

At that point you're no longer a Sorcerer... you're a Curse User.

Part of Geto's family.

By this point he'd either treat you like a student/successor... or a lover in his cult.

He's so much nicer when he takes the fight out of you.

He plans to reform you, to bring back that fight against normal humans.

There's no need to cry... he'll comfort you once you transition over.

Sorcerer principles are so weak.

Once you drop them, Geto greets you with open arms.

If you're a student, he welcomes you as his newest successor... ready to be trained with a new mindset.

If you're someone he knew years ago, he greets his old friend with open arms.

He knew you'd eventually come to him.

You just needed some convincing.

Geto's possessive once he converts you by force.

His pet monkeys aren't allowed to touch you and you're never out of his sight.

You're important to him, which is ironic as this is the man who would shatter your mind just to keep you.

Your abilities are soon used for his motives.

Soon enough you're forced to depend on Geto.

He makes you feel like you need him with his words and manipulation.

Soon you'll forget all about being a Sorcerer.

Surely you realize Geto knows best and wants to see you improve, right?

Soon you won't even want to leave his arms ever again... trapped and lulled in by his venomous words.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?

Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.

If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.

Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.

What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).

On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.

Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]

The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.

Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.

Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]

She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.

Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.

If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]

Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.

So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.

And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.

Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:

Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.

Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]

Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]

Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.

Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break your OoV.

[kissesandarsenic]

Day 23 - Age Gap

Picturing a priest in his mid-thirties being corrupted by a woman fifteen years his junior. 

She’d be the niece of a devout follower. She’s just moved to this small town, kicked out of home for running amok and causing chaos. Her uncle pleads with the priest to talk to her. To lead her back down a righteous path. She was such a good girl once upon a time. Surely the priest can help her back into the Lord’s loving embrace?

So he visits her and she’s not unlike people he’s met before. Disdainful. Rude. Snarky. 

Alluring.

It starts with coy glances and chaste touches. Graduates to teasing comments, shorter skirts and the press of her leg against his. Her warmth is like nothing he’s ever known. He’s been so good all his life. Never gave in to temptation. He kept his head down, kept himself pure, and focused on what was right and holy. His divine purpose. 

But she pulls these… desires out of him. He is weak in her presence. He can’t fight back when she leans in and presses her lips to his. Carved from sin but she feels like heaven. She stirs up all these base wants and turns them into needs until he feels like a teenager again.

The same age he was when she was born. God, how far he has fallen. 

He spends his mornings praying for the strength to tell her no, to save them both. He begs on his knees for the Lord’s forgiveness and then lowers himself once again in a confessional booth to worship between her legs hours later. 

Guilt chews at him. Eats him alive whenever they’re apart. But her soft hands possess a healing balm that soothes him in ways prayer and verses could never hope to accomplish.

He is Hers.

Completely and utterly and devoutly. 

Loretta and Salt's Kinktober Masterlist

[dancermk]

HELLO MY FELLOW TRAVELERS!

I, like many viewers, have been completely entranced by Hawk and Tim’s love story in Fellow Travelers. As a mature queer person, this show has been very emotional, and I am deeply invested. (I WILL riot if Tim doesn’t get to die in Hawk’s arms, and know that he is, and has always been, loved by Hawk.) But I digress.

Something that I have been fascinated by are the differing opinions that have surfaced about the characters, especially Hawk. I’m not looking for any arguments here, everyone is entitled to their opinion, and this is simply mine. To me, Hawk falls hard and fast for Tim. He breaks all his own rules for Tim - they topple over like a house of cards.

When we are introduced to Hawk, he’s cold and heartless with the men he hooks up with - they are nothing more than a body to fulfil his sexual needs and desires. He doesn’t do repeats and he doesn’t bring them home. But Tim, he instantly begins returning to, gets him a job, then allows him into his own apartment, etc. When Tim pushes back, Hawk relents further, letting him in emotionally, sharing parts of his past, crossing lines by introducing him to others in his circle, and so on.

Hawk is a traumatised man, carrying guilt and anger and shame, and a bucket load of fear! Yes, he has some internalised homophobia, but interestingly, he’s also extremely righteous about his homosexuality -and I don’t believe he thinks being gay is wrong in any way. (His response to his father is indicative of this).

I can personally say that I’ve never thought it was wrong to be queer, yet I spent much of my life hiding who I was and feeling shame. It’s an odd thing! Perhaps it is that the shame forms purely from what is outside of us, while what is inside of us can love another person of the same sex, knowing it is right and pure. Perhaps these contradictions between self and society are what causes so much pain and conflict?

But back to Hawk. Hawk is undoubtedly most affected by his teenage first love experience. A love that he fucked up through his own fears (fear for many men is unacceptable and a sign of weakness), and now carries the burden of believing he is responsible for their death. Hawk doesn’t allow himself to love again, until Tim. And we see many times throughout the show how much Hawk fears losing Tim. And in the end he’ll have to face that fear. I think that, in part, not attempting to have a life with Tim, is also fuelled by his fear of fucking it up and losing Tim - so it’s easier to just not attempt it! In episode 7, when he loses his son, part of that spiral is Hawk recognising that he can’t really prevent loss, and he wasted his life trying to be something he’s not - still losing his child and Tim along with it.

But Hawk is a survivor! And no one has the right to hate or judge him for it. I don’t think some young people truly understand what it feels like to live in a world where who you love can put you in jail, and destroy your life. I grew up in the 70s/80s and my experiences were bad enough, but I try so very hard to think about what it was like before that! When being queer was a crime and a mental illness! That’s pure terror! And for Hawk, he chose to survive the best way he knew how, and he wasn’t able to change because that’s fucking hard when all you’ve known is living in constant ‘fight or flight,’ and when have chronic trauma and experience collective trauma.

I think in episode 8 we’ll finally get to see Hawk grow - I certainly hope so - because he deserves to be free. Our beautiful Skippy has been free for some time, and while we mourn for the cruelty of a world that would take such a truly decent man, I am glad he got to live freely. Being closeted is the worst kind of suffering- a compartmentalised and fragmented existence where you are never truly whole, and therefore can never be the best version of yourself.

Before I go, I just wanted to also talk about being in a closeted relationship-which I experienced in my youth. I think that Hawk and Tim’s intense and toxic and exquisitely beautiful relationship, in part, arises from this. Because two closeted people in love live their relationship in secret, in a bubble, only in certain rooms, with none of the outside world reflected back at them. It becomes the two of you against the world. It’s so insular. Hawk and Tim literally live their 1950s relationship within two rooms - their apartments. All their memories are held within those walls. And it only belongs to them. They know each in ways that no other living soul does. It’s all-consuming and often unhealthy, but also stupidly romantic.

Anyway, sorry for this long winded post that no one will read and is likely full of grammatical errors because I’m tired! This atheist is praying we get everything we need from episode 8! Acceptance, forgiveness, understanding resolution, healing and a whole lot of love! ❤️

Cheers queers! 🏳️‍🌈

PS Matt and Johnny are exquisite on and off screen and I am so thankful to them for bringing these characters and this story into our lives!

[cressidagrey]

Indelible Scars - Chapter 1

Summary:

Azriel knew pain. So did Galena.

Also known as: Azriel’s mate is a healer and the first time they meet, he nearly dies on her.

Warnings:

Discussion of whatever Mor and Az are, Fainting, Irresponsible use of Sleeping Potions, kinda depressing?

(thanks to @cafekitsune for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel knew pain. 

He couldn’t really remember a time of his life when he wasn’t in pain. The fight for survival had been put into the cradle right next to him, down there in his father’s keep. 

He knew pain. Every fucking type of it. 

The physical pain… was something he had learned to deal with. It hurt but it didn’t in a sense. It hurt and it reminded him that he was still alive. 

He had often welcomed it. Screaming agony.

 But he was alive and he was free and he was no longer in the cell beneath his father’s keep…he was free . 

So it didn’t matter if it was a broken bone or a dagger or ash arrows or anything else. He was alive, he was free…he would survive . 

For centuries that had been enough. Survival had been enough . 

Survival was all he had wanted. 

And then he had grown soft. 

He hated himself for that. Because once he grew soft…once surviving was no longer what he concentrated on every fucking day…he had started to want more . 

More than simple survival. 

He should have known then that that wasn’t in the cards for him. 

Azriel had wanted…companionship. Somebody who loved him. Who wanted him. 

Somebody for whom he was irreplaceable.

And that…that had resulted in something much worse than physical pain. 

Emotional pain. 

And against that…no healer had a tonic that helped and Azriel was fucking helpless. 

It had all started with one beautiful blonde girl. 

Morrigan. 

To say that he had fallen in love with her like a ton of bricks…it was the understatement of the century. 

Mor was sunshine personified, lighting up every room she walked into. 

She was everything Azriel was not. Beautiful and gorgeous and kind and good. 

For the better half of one millennium…he had wanted her. 

Wanted her with every fibre of his being. Like he had never wanted anything before. 

Even when Azriel had known that she would never want him. He had always been devoted to impossible causes, after all. 

But that didn’t stop it from still hurting when Mor took male after male to her bed and none of them were him. She didn’t owe him anything. He knew that. 

But still, it had hurt. And still, he had stayed devoted in his devotion to the Morrigan. 

Because clearly, Azriel was a fucking idiot. 

An idiot for even hoping that it would be different…that…

A fucking idiot. And a fool to boot, because then he had set his eyes on Elain. 

It had snuck up on him... she was so different than Morrigan. 

No fierce warrior, but gentle and delicate, preferring flowers over fighting knives…but she was kind as well. And sweet…so sweet…

And he had been stupid with it. Hadn’t thought it through…hadn’t allowed him to think it through because then it became real and…then he needed to think about how it would feel if she wasn’t interested in him. 

Before, he could still pretend. His brain could conjure up moments and he could pretend they were real. 

But then…it hadn’t been Elain telling him that she wasn’t interested…he hadn’t needed to worry about that. 

In the end…it had all been ripped apart anyway that night in Rhys’ office.

One night, one conversation…one order. 

And it had been done. 

Rhys had pulled rank…and that was it. 

Something inside him had broken apart. A chance at happiness smashed into a thousand shards. And nobody but him had even realised it. 

He had swallowed down the anger. The righteous fury. 

It didn’t matter. Whatever he felt…it never mattered. Azriel should have at least learned that one lesson in his long life. 

But that didn’t mean…it didn’t mean he could sleep at night. He couldn’t. 

Nightmares weren’t even the problem. For once. It was the fucking insomnia. 

His mind finding it prudent to turn in circles, to conjure up idea after idea of how to fix it, even when Azriel knew that there was nothing to fix anymore. 

It was done. It was over. 

It was…over, and he should just forget it. 

Elain did. Elain forgot all about brushes of fingers and flirtations…Elain moved on…with Lucien…her mate. The one the mother had chosen for her. 

And then right in the middle of that…

There had been a tearful admission from Morrigan. 

Not a surprise to Azriel. He wouldn’t be a spymaster worth his salt if he hadn’t known for decades and centuries and had kept quiet because it wasn’t his secret to tell. He had known. 

But still, to have Mor say it out loud, to admit that she preferred women and that she had found her mate in Emerie…well, that was…As long as Mor was happy…Azriel was happy. Or content at least…hopefully she got everything she wanted. She deserved it. 

He was happy for her. He forced himself to be happy because that was the only right thing to be. 

“I’m sorry, Az,” she had apologised to him and his burned-out heart painfully constricted because she didn’t owe him a fucking apology. 

“It’s alright,” he promised her. “As long as you are happy.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead, breathed in the scent of citrus and cinnamon…for one single moment he allowed himself to think about what if things were different…and then he let that go. 

There was no use to cry about that anymore. 

He knew that. 

And if somebody would make sure that his heart knew the same…he would be eternally grateful. 

But his feelings had other ideas. 

The insomnia continued. 

And then…well, and then Lucien and Elain decided to get married. In Day Court. The domain of Lucien’s father, Helion. 

They couldn’t leave Velaris unprotected, even with the threat of Hybern and Koschei both gone, which they had only defeated with a truly sensational amount of good luck. 

“I’ll stay,” Azriel volunteered. There didn’t even need to be a discussion about it. “You’re both her brothers-in-law, you need to be there.”

“Az, I am sure we can find another solution…” Cassian offered while Rhys mustered him with dark eyes and Azriel kept his mind carefully blank. He couldn’t deal with any of Rhys's commentary right now. Rhys maybe didn’t mean it to be hurtful, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hit any of Azriel’s soft spots and then resulted in even more…pain. 

“You don’t need to. It’s a workable solution. You go, I stay,” he assured Cassian. “Besides, Mor and Amren will have more fun there than I would,” he said, with a smile. It was only half forced. 

Quite frankly, it was for the fucking best.

He didn’t trust himself at that wedding. So staying in Velaris…that was…better. Not good, but definitely better. 

So he did. 

And life went on like it always did. He forced himself to do his work and to train and to simply trudge on…he figured that maybe if he acted like everything was alright, then it would be…Maybe if he just ignored it…maybe then it would no longer feel like somebody pushed a flaming hot knife in between his ribs and twisted whenever he saw his brothers with their mates. 

He didn’t allow himself to wonder why they had mates and he didn’t. He knew the answer anyway. They clearly deserved that gift from the mother and he…he didn’t. 

He wasn’t good enough. He knew that. It was nothing new. Nothing new at all. 

So he should just get used to it now…

“Why don’t you take the evening and you find yourself somebody to take your mind off work?” 

He just stared at Rhys.

The suggestion had come so out of left pocket, after another meeting about intelligence coming out of the Spring Court. 

*I just worry, Az,* Rhys said quietly in his mind. Azriel couldn’t even muster up a reaction about it.  

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had sex. A few decades ago? Maybe?  Not while Rhys had been under the mountain…sometime before that? 

He didn’t know. 

He didn’t care either. 

*At least think about it?* Rhys suggested and Az dumbly nodded. 

He did think about it. 

But there was absolutely no want whatsoever. 

He could remember the itch underneath his skin when he had been young and full of false bravado…that itch that had wanted the physical pleasure of being with another person, of being…touched by somebody.

That itch…it was long gone these days. 

He could go to Rita’s. There would be somebody who would be willing to let him warm their bed for a night…but he just couldn’t find it in himself to want to do that. 

 Somebody willing to ignore the ugliness of the scars marring his hands…or if he went to a seedy, low-lit bar, maybe they wouldn’t even see them

But Azriel just didn’t…he just didn’t want to. 

“Maybe ask Mor, I am sure she would know some willing female,” Rhys quipped aloud. 

He wanted to make a sharp comment about how he didn’t need Mor to find himself a willing female. But he didn’t have it in himself. He so very often didn’t have it in himself anymore. 

He was just so tired. 

The exhaustion was the worst part….

The first time he bought himself a Sleeping Potion… he was desperate. He easily admitted that. 

The second time… he was just bone-deep tired, and he had just wanted one evening where his mind wouldn’t conjure up moment after moment where he had failed for him. 

The third time…the third time, he figured that he could at least have this . If he already could have nothing else…he could have a good night of sleep. 

He bought himself a fucking Sleeping Potion more often than would be appropriate, he knew that too. 

But he couldn’t help himself. 

He took that Sleeping Potion and he would black-out asleep, minutes later. No thought in his head. Nothing. 

He never took it while on a mission…he wasn’t suicidal. 

But when he was in Velaris and Cassian and Rhys were both there as well…well, then Azriel…Azriel allowed himself that weakness.  

He just was…so tired. Of it all. 

So he added Sleeping Potions to the few luxuries he allowed himself. He figured of all the indulgences he could have…Sleeping Potions were harmless. 

He also started taking some Perking Up Potions,  for the hangover the Sleeping Potions sometimes left him with….he stopped arguing with Madja about any pain reducers or anything like that…he started taking that headache powder Elain had gotten him as soon as any headache was starting to make itself known…he took every fucking option of pain relief he could scrounge up…

Even if he deserved the pain…he just couldn’t do it anymore. 

He truly was a fool. 

Once upon a time, he had enjoyed physical pain…it made him feel alive…

These days? He knocked himself out if there was so much as a muscle cramp somewhere in his body. 

It left him blessedly numb. To everything. 

Rhys being an idiot? Who cared? Not Azriel. 

Cassian getting on his nerves about leaving the House of Wind and doing something? Azriel didn’t care. 

His shadows being mother hens? Azriel could not care less. 

Everybody could just leave him in peace and he would give them the same courtesy. 

Azriel did his work and then went back to his room, downed another sleeping potion and went to bed. Sleep and Work. He never even wanted anything else anymore.

He wondered when sleep had become a fucking escape to him, but it didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered anymore. 

Sometimes the heart in his chest had turned to ashes, and he couldn’t scrounge up enough energy to even care about it anymore. 

Life went on. And on and on…and if he got a cold from a fucking mission in the Winter Court that left him with a torso bruised to hell and back…then that was just another annoyance in a long line of them. 

He still did his work…he took whatever potion against the common cold the apothecary told him to take…

That it didn’t really seem to get better…well, maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him. 

What did surprise him was when he suddenly found himself flat on his back when Cassian and he had been sparring. And it wasn’t because Cassian had kicked his ass. 

He blinked up into the grey sky, the edges of his vision turning black…

“Azriel!” That was Cassian’s voice. worried…a hand pressing against his face. He blinked again, Cassian’s face coming into focus. “For Cauldron’s sake, Az!” his brother hissed. “You’re burning up.”

Burning up? What? 

“I am not feeling good,” he managed to bring out, his head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton wool. Somehow even forming the words was difficult. 

“Oh really,” sarcasm was dripping from Cassian’s voice. His eyes closed again. “No sleeping,” Cassian snapped at him, shaking him and it roused Azriel as Cassian suddenly moved him upright. 

“Come on, you big lug,” Cassian muttered, slinging one of Azriel's arms over his shoulder and Azriel was too tired to protest… too tired, to do anything…

“I am going to bridal carry you out of her, don’t think I won’t,” Cassian warned him, but he didn’t care…Cassian could just leave him right here. that was alright. 

“Tired,” he mumbled, his eyes closing again. 

“Come on, stay awake, Az. Rhys is getting Madja,” Cassian muttered. 

He didn’t need Madja…he just needed sleep…he just…Sleep….

[tljisthegoat]

If Ben Solo never comes back, then we definitely NEED a good answer as to why he isn't a Force Ghost. The best answer is that Anakin, using his newfound abilities saves Ben Solo from death. With the big catch being that he's seemingly stuck in The World Between Worlds.

Rey learning about the entire history of the Star Wars universe is a must. What better way to show off her previously established scavenger expertise than to have her scrape together all the info she can on her travels across the universe.

You can also have this be a good way of showing how empty she feels after the loss of Ben.

She'd feel his absence like a cutting void. Not unlike a black hole. Swallowing all the light in her soul. She'd feel suffocated by this facade of being a Jedi. When she's always been a lonely scavenger desperately clinging to hope.

Hope isn't something she's felt in what feels like an eternity. What cause is there to truly fight for. What would that even mean for her now?

All roads lead to Rey's tragic downfall. A grief-stricken heart smothered and shattered by war. Darkness fills her hollow heart with righteous anger. Her eyes turned a sickly yellow, her skin paled significantly. Her hair looks like a wild beast's mane, wild and unruly. Longer than it's ever been, reaching down past her shoulders.

She will get back what's hers. Ben Solo.

[thephantomcasebook]

I am sooo disappointed in S2 HOTD, and now I understand why you were warning us about S2 writing. I encourage you to watch Ben Shapiro's S2 review of HOTD. Everything he states hits the point as I feel of S2 writing. But I really feel that if Miguel was still on S2 he would basically steer the ship right, as in writing and direction of the story. Sara Hess needs to be fired definitely. But I don't understand why you don't like Miguel, once he gave us a solid S1. If you want audience to understand why Aemond turned evil from S1, then show us when he immediately returned from Storm's End and Alicent and Otto argue the stupidity in Aemond's decision to kill Luke, once Aegon was offering peace terms to Rhae Rhae. Please explain why you hate Miguel.

I hate Spotchnik because he is the sire of all the bullshit of Season 2.

People, fundamentally, don't understand this point. Sara Hess was not on the original writing staff of HOTD. There was no original writing staff for HOTD. There was Ryan Condal and GRRM that wrote all of the scripts for Season 1.

Sarah Hess was brought on by Spotchnik and his wife as a producer to hack up and rewrite Condal and GRRM's original scripts in order to fit with the overall narrative that Spotchnik (and mostly his wife) wanted to tell in the story.

Sara Hess rewrote and reworked elements of Condal and GRRM's scripts during shooting.

Things such as Criston Cole being a thug rather than the most dangerous man in Westros. Turning Alicent and Rhaenyra's rivalry in the original scripts into a closeted lesbian romance.

Example:

A.) In 1x08 there was no rape of a maid by Aegon. Aegon is introduced in the Condal and GRRM script as having to be collected from a brothel and dragged back to the Red Keep where Alicent scolds him for neglecting Helaena and embarrassing her by his frat boy antics in public.

Sara Hess is on record saying that she and Spotchnik did not jive with Aegon just being a whoring, lazy, drunk. And they wanted to make him more villainous in order to show how Alicent is perpetuating "The Patriarchy" by covering up a rape.

B.) There was no fighting pits in 1x09. In the original script by GRRM and Condal. Aegon is abducted from a tavern while drunk by Misaria and is used as leverage by Misaria for more privileges in Otto's service - not to stop the fighting pits.

Sara Hess wrote Aegon to be involved in fighting pits cause it was "Game of Thrones" - which is her excuse for every bad writing decision she made.

All of 1x09 was rewritten and restructured by Sara Hess at the behest of Spotchnik in order to make the Greens bad. From the awful scene between Alicent and Rhaenys, to Aegon's fighting pits, and the Dragon Pit Massacre.

Tom Glynn-Carney told the story about how he had it out with Sara Hess and Spotchnik when they added the rape scene in 1x08 that wasn't there during the table read. He told them them they were kneecapping Aegon and giving him nowhere to go. To this Spotchnik told him to shut up and do his job as he his told to do it.

My point is that Sara Hess was the hatchet woman of Miguel Spotchnik and his wife. She was brought in by them to purposefully fill HOTD with their sanctimonious bullshit political agenda.

Spotchnik was fired, not because of his wife, but because the new heads of HBO after the merger with Discovery and Warner sent back his Season 2 treatment and told him to start again. Spotchnik threw a massive tantrum because the previous heads of HBO gave him free reign to do whatever he wanted with Artistic Freedom. But the new heads of the studio did not agree to those terms. So he quit and cried like bitch on the way out. And HBO did him a solid by not telling anyone how bad his Season 2 treatments really were.

And since I've read them, I can tell you they're some of the most righteous trash you'll ever read.

Everything you hate about Season 2 is a symptom of a disease that Miguel Spotchnik bio-engineered and spread from bringing on Sara Hess to hiring Olivia Cooke and Emma D'Arcy for their identity and political activism rather than talent.

The taint of Spotchnik's and his wife's vision of HOTD remains long after they've been booted. Mostly because they never got rid of Sara Hess who was the main scribe to most of the bullshit in Season 1 that doomed Season 2.

Two heads of the Hydra were chopped off but one still remains to blight the countryside.

[bliss-in-the-void]

Satoru, Suguru, and the Detriment of Their Origins. (How their characters completed each other.)

This is going to be an analysis on how their differences came together and contributed to their downfalls once they parted. I really like how this turned out—it’s very interesting.

Long post, read under cut:

Satoru:

Blamed the Jujutsu Higher-ups for even burdening him and Suguru, who were both sixteen, with the task of escorting Riko—who was only fourteen—to Tengen. The fate of the entire world rested on the shoulders of three kids who were only put in their position because of abilities assigned at birth, and nothing else. The three of them literally had no choice in the matter. Also, because of what happened with Haibara. Satoru deduced that the elders shouldn’t be in charge of sending kids off to their deaths to fight uphill battles.

So, he in turn decides to raise strong allies in the form of students so that they one day can overthrow the elders in hopes of establishing a more fair and just system for sorcerers. Here, he recognizes the need for sorcerers to exorcise curses to protect the populace, but does not agree with the system as it stands.

Note, Satoru before the Star Plasma Vessel incident had barely any motivation to exorcise curses other than the fact that he could do it. He did it for fun. He just liked using his powers. He was always a self-assured person.

Suguru:

Blamed non-sorcerers for generating curses in the first place, and developed a deep hatred for them that was seeded after Toji (a non-sorcerer) ‘killed’ Satoru and killed Riko, as well as after he witnessed non-sorcerers applauding the death of Riko, a fourteen year old girl. He met Yuki, Tsukumo, who introduced to him the idea of getting rid of the source of curses. He also blamed humanity for conjuring a curse that killed Haibara. His turning point was finding two young sorcerer girls, Nanako and Mimiko (~seven years old) caged up like animals by non-sorcerers. It probably reminded him of his own childhood—I can only imagine how his parents must have at least alienated him for his abilities, since they were not sorcerers. It also in part probably reminded him of Riko, and how she’d been a young girl unfairly targeted due to her abilities. It definitely triggered him.

So, his goal became to rid the world of non-sorcerers, so that curses wouldn’t exist. To do this, he had to abandon all of the principles he had subscribed to thus far and become a villain who kills people—but he did it for his cause.

Note, Suguru has always been a self-righteous person. It’s a bit different from who Satoru is. He has had time to think about his place in the world because unlike Satoru, he was born to a normal family and had to find where he belonged himself. Satoru, on the other hand, was told where his place was from the moment he was born.

So, Suguru defined himself as somewhat of a hero who valiantly, selflessly swallows nasty curses to protect the populace.

Satoru never had to define himself. He was already defined at birth. A wielder of the Six Eyes and Limitless, a once in a lifetime anomaly, a scale-tipping, monstrosity more powerful than anyone else.

These origins are both of their downfalls, and this is ultimately why the two needed each other so badly. They did complete each other as people.

As I said above, Suguru had to define himself. He had to affirm to himself that what he was doing was for the good of the people—it was how he had convinced himself society had to run. The strong protect the weak, it doesn’t matter if one had a choice or not. If you are strong, you have a duty to become a protector.

The issue with this mindset is that he has absolutely no attachment to it whatsoever. The only thing it does for him is make him feel good about himself in his early days as an active sorcerer. Even Satoru calls him out, letting Suguru know he “hates righteousness” and that he just “makes himself feel better” by “spouting bullshit”, the bullshit being his ‘heroic’ beliefs. At his core, Suguru believes himself to be a hero of sorts, which is why when things go sideways, he does a one-eighty and decided to kill all non-sorcerers rather than protect them. In his mind, he’s still affirming to himself that he’s the hero. It’s just that now, he’s protecting other sorcerers. The enemy has changed. He’s still the self-righteous, martyr-Suguru he has always defined himself as, sticking his neck out for the good of his cause.

He lost his grip because he was not emotionally attached to being a sorcerer. He was just attached to being a hero. This is why when entering Jujutsu High, Yaga puts such a huge emphasis on digging deep and finding a strong, personal reason to be a sorcerer. He recognizes that he fell short in that aspect when it came to Suguru, and doesn’t want it happening again. Resolve is very, very important so that once doesn’t lose their mind.

Now, let’s take a look at Satoru’s mind in contrast. He is the strongest sorcerer. The ‘honored one’. He always has been. He had bounties on his head before he could walk, and grown adults feared him even as a child. He was always seen for his abilities first and not his soul, so he identified with his powers more strongly.

This caused him to become disillusioned with himself. He believed that being strong was all someone could need, and that he was untouchable. He was relied on by everyone. “Gojo can handle it.” “Just wait for Gojo.” He was the trump card. That’s why he strolled up to Shibuya so nonchalantly—the way he was raised gave him a natural arrogance. It’s not because he’s a jerk. It’s because that’s all he knows. He was raised believing he was all powerful, so what else can he default to? He was literally wired that way.

Unfortunately, because he leaned so heavily on his powers, he forgot who he was as a person. Especially after Suguru, the only person he was able to form a vulnerable emotional bond with, compared him to his powers and left him.

Caveat I want to make about that point: Suguru was the only person who treated Satoru like a human being. Everyone else saw him as the Six Eyes. Because he made Satoru feel seen, because he tried making Satoru a better person (teaching him manners, acting as his moral compass), Satoru grew attached to him. So, when Suguru’s psyche took a turn for the worst and he left Satoru in Shinjuku, the line “are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?” dealt a fatal blow to his heart. This was the one person he trusted deeply, reducing him to a man with powers, just like everyone else his whole life did. It caused a rift in their relationship. It caused Satoru to rethink his entire identity—how much of himself was based off of his powers? How much of himself wasn’t based off of his powers? Suguru’s presence allowed him to feel more human and less like a creature than he ever had. But those words pushed him back into that constraint.

In chapter 236, Satoru reveals to Suguru that somehow, though he had love for everyone around him, he felt a line had been drawn where he felt more like a creature than a human being.

A TikTok user (lauravpvp) pointed out something that drives this point home. Satoru wears a blindfold over his eyes 90% of the time. As his powers grow, the coverings get thicker and more restricting. He starts with glasses, then bandages, and then the black blindfold. Eyes are the window to the soul—and as he gets stronger, the less he shows them; the less he beard his soul.

We look into someone’s eyes to see how they’re feeling, to connect to them. His eyes are always covered, so he prevents that connection and prevents people from knowing how he feels. He dehumanizes himself that way.

Because of that, when he goes into his fight with Sukuna, he goes believing he’d the strongest and that he would win. It’s all he’s reduced himself to. This blind attachment to his powers, to the idea that he had to do it alone, is what lead to his downfall.

Because he learned the hard way that he wasn’t the strongest.

In his final moments, he reinforces what he had discovered after Suguru left him in Shinjuku.

Strength alone is not enough. Why?

He said that if Suguru had been there to pat him on the back, he would have truly been satisfied.

Suguru, who had to fight to find his identity his whole life—who, because he spent so much time defining himself, helped Satoru define himself in ways that were separate from his abilities. And Satoru, who identified himself with his abilities so much that it reinforced Suguru’s confidence in his own abilities.

They completed each other. Suguru’s moral compass and strict principles held Satoru’s head on right, and Satoru’s confidence and youthful heart kept Suguru motivated and away from the dark.

Without each other, Suguru descended into madness and Satoru lost sight of his human side.

[zukotheartist]

LONG tbosas (book, mostly) post ahead, about Reaper Ash specifically

A lot of people, rightfully, point out when Reaper cuts Panem's flag and throws it on the dead kids but something that gets to me as well (that I think is a really nice touch and should be talked about more) is his other uses of the flag (in the book, anyway).

The first time he cuts the flag, it's to bargain with Lamina.

Yes, he's doing it for himself because his mentor* won't send him food (or water) unless he puts on a good show (aka killing or at least attacking another tribute), which he isn't doing, and it's been days so he needs to eat (if I remember correctly, he had been able to get a few of Lucy Gray/Jessup's extra/leftover water bottles). But he was strong and big enough to hunt down another tribute and then steal their food. Not Lamina, probably, I don't think a big guy would be able to climb a pole that well? (I feel like that'd be easier for a smaller-skinnier person like Coral but idk, i dont climb lol). Regardless, he couldve hunted any of the tributes that were on the ground.

Instead, he notices that Lamina is heavily sunburned (enough for the skin on her nose to be chipping away) and tells her that he'll get her a blanket (piece of flag) to cover herself with, in exchange for some food.

Then he cuts another piece of the flag to cover his dead peers (and ofc that's the main use of it and the most important one).

But then he also cuts a piece of the flag... for HIMSELF. Not to use as a shield from the sun or to wrap a wound or any other "logical" or "useful" reason.

He drapes the cloth on his back and wraps it around his neck.

He makes a CAPE.

And what does he do, right after?

He twirls around and tries to look back at the cape as he's twirling. Then he runs up and down a bit, with his arms out-stretched, letting the cape fly behind him.

And the next time we see him? He's still wearing the cape.

That moment speaks VOLUMES imo.

A lot of people have pointed out that Suzanne Collins does the complete opposite of the usual tropes placed upon black characters: the girls aren't the caretakers, they're the ones being taken care of by other characters (Katniss and Rue + Tresh and Rue + Reaper and Dill) and the boys aren't treated as agressive fully grown men ready to attack, they're depicted as kind and righteous boys who don't wanna cause harm > the way they show it with Reaper (tho we also see it with Tresh) is soo so... idk, I don't have the words for it.

Not only does he apologise, before the game starts, to all the tributes for having to kill them and also promises them that he'll fight the Capitol and avenge them, to then refusing to murder them during the game.

Not only does he respect his peer's dead bodies when he absolutely had no necessity to and would even get repercussions for doing it (cutting the flag = defying the Capitol = no chance of him winning aka surviving).

He's also shown to be just a kid himself.

He's in an awful situation and trying to stay kind and safe and what's a little something that he does for Himself (the ONE thing he does for himself, basically his entire time in the arena he's doing things for others, even when the thing is just refusing to murder) to cheer up? He makes himself a makeshift cape and runs and twirls around a bit.

i have... so many feelings and thoughts on his character... Suzanne Collins' pen is definition of on fire. That's all.

*btw, something that also makes me incredibly sad is how he's taking care of everyone/not harming anyone but his own mentor still won't send him food or water :( and it's especially sad when you remember that Clemensia was one of the only mentors and Capitol people shown to be Actually against the Hunger Games, at first.

She wasn't bored by them (like it can be said for Festus or Arachne) and she wasn't simply disgusted from a gore/imagery perspective (like Snow and Livia too, if I remember well).

She was actually disgusted at them from a human perspective (not nearly as much as Sejanus but still) and even asked if "the Districts hadn't suffered enough" and "why couldn't they stop now that the war was over". Meaning, she was probably gonna be a good mentor (or as good as a mentor can be) before the snakes bit her and messed her up... it's all one big tragedy🥲

EDIT: wait, she Does send food by the end! But the point stands because she sends it after she's healed more and her brain's clearer.

[loveoaths]

Anakin is not racist

oh, man, that was fast!

listen. i’m gonna assume you’re an anakin fan — great! so am i! — but anakin is objectively an awful person and a canonical space-racist. that’s apparent even if you’re new to Star Wars like i am.

from Legends:

when asked about his view of the tuskens, anakin’s immediate response is “i have no use for tuskens.” i mean, i don’t know what there is to explain about that, because it’s right there. a whole race of people he doesn’t care for because they aren’t “useful,” as if that’s all people are meant to be to him. his issue with them is apparent but he won’t name it.

a’sharad hett directly names anakin’s issue: he is prejudiced. and anakin does not deny this. he “apologizes” but does not specify for what, because he knows he’s supposed to. you don’t just admit you’re a racist, especially not to a Master Jedi. which is exactly what irl racists do, lmfao.

when push comes to shove, anakin outright SAYS it.

“I know what you are — filthy, sneaking, Tusken! Animals! Hiding behind your masks! Your kind tortured and killed my mother and I’m glad I killed them all!” (Emphasis mine)

like, listen. this is racist as hell. the racist dog whistle is now a racist klaxon, alright. he sees the tuskens as subhuman, as inherently untrustworthy because of their appearance and their culture, and he is not only not bothered by killing them, but he’s happy he did it. you could argue anakin is shielding himself from his guilt with self-righteousness, which i might buy with any other character, but anakin is down right unrepentant.

it wasn’t enough for him to kill the tuskens responsible, which even a’sharad notes would have been acceptable in Tusken culture; anakin wanted them all dead, because they’re all guilty to him solely by virtue of being Tusken. this anger and hatred and bigotry pushes anakin to even lash out against a’sharad, a tusken jedi, fully dropping any pretense that he is okay with a’sharad despite him being half-tusken and a jedi. because you know what anakin is following? the ONE DROP RULE! even a drop of Tusken blood is too much tusken.

and still the wrong lessons are learned. for some godforsaken reason a’sharad learns he needs to be seen as a Jedi first and not a Tusken, which is not only antithetical to the Jedi way, but totally opposite to the point of this encounter, which is that we are all many things all at once, and pretending otherwise leads to destruction. anakin is a jedi and a murderer and a racist and the chosen one. ignoring the unsavory and cruel parts of him, never exposing him to the jedi council, and hoping his “better nature” would win out over time ensured that it never would. a’sharad is a Tusken and a jedi and many other things, but his wrongful assumption that pushing aside his heritage will gain him favor eventually causes more problems for him.

the only reason anakin and a’sharad stop fighting is because a’sharad removes his mask, revealing, tada, a hot human face! now anakin is capable of an insincere apology. but he still assumes the markings on a’sharad were forced on him, because he still believes tuskens are a barbaric and cruel people. then the moment is moved past so they can escape.

and despite this shit-ass “heart to heart,” anakin walks away with zero appreciation for a’sharad or the Tusken culture. he fails a’sharad’s lesson: it’s not that he can’t see a’sharad as human, as a person, as a jedi, it’s that he won’t, because he is attached to his view of the tuskens as lesser than, because it excuses his behavior, because it makes him righteous, because it makes him feel better, because it solidifies his entitled view of the world. which is exactly how irl racism and whiteness work.

and the final word on the subject is this. when all is said and done and anakin is asked if he would kill the tuskens again, knowing what he knows about them now, his answer is a cold, unmoved, “Yes.”

now, i know the Legends comics are not officially canon; the new canon is whatever Disney chooses to use and whatever appears in the movies. however, even if we just look at the clone wars, which are now canon to the Disney SWU, there are several instances in TCW where anakin makes disparaging comments about another species’ appearance, intelligence, and capability. i don’t have those on hand because i am not trawling through 7 seasons for quotes for you, but you can find them if you want to look.

my final thought here is this: i am not disparaging anakin fans (fanakins, if you will); like i said earlier, i am fascinated by his character, and enjoy him as a concept. what i am doing here is asking you (especially if you’re white) to consider the lengths to which fandom goes to ignore the very obvious signs that anakin is not just genocidal but racist. like him all you want but don’t ignore that part because that makes you uncomfortable. he kills kids. that’s not any better than being racist.

understanding the role of racism in his depiction, and his turn to fascism, only aids your storytelling and view of him, because it’s true to life. society is willing to ignore massive red flags if someone is white (and in Star Wars universe, we’ll add “human” to the list), male, and conventionally attractive. obi-wan is willing to ignore these things because he is the same, and because anakin does not treat HIM this way, obi-wan can blindly believe anakin would never treat anyone like this — which is, again, a phenomenon people of color call out often, where white people will say “X can’t be racist because he’s never said anything racist around me!” well yeah. because why would he? nevermind the fact that obi-wan and ahsoka witness anakin treating non-human suspects with extreme prejudice, abusing his power and authority as a jedi to get what he wants, and worse. anakin is and always has been a shitty racist cop on a power trip, but because he worked with “good cops” and knew better than to say anything out loud, he got away with it until he killed them all too.

this all feeds into the concept that while anakin’s fall is tragic, it is by no means unexpected. the only reason the main characters of the prequels are surprised is because they willingly looked away from the warning signs. the characters who didn’t — the Council, Mace, even Ahsoka at some points — are vilified by anakin, and because the main characters love anakin and have an attachment to him being the chosen one, they believe anakin over those who are suspicious of him and ignore or downplay the warnings until it’s all too late. the tragedy of anakin isn’t a tragedy of not being loved enough, or having people fail you; it’s the tragedy of refusing to get help, of refusing to let go of things even when they hurt you, it’s the tragedy of the bitter man drinking poison to kill someone ekse, and it’s the tragedy of the bystander: of what happens when we all stand by and watch people we love do terrible things without stopping them, because we’re as afraid of them not loving us anymore as we are of confronting what it means that we still want to love and be loved by cruelty.

tl;dr: anakin skywalker is racist and prejudiced. you can still like him as a character; this is not a moral judgment. but maybe you should prod at your like at him a little, and investigate the ways in which both anakin as a character and the fandom’s dismissive view of his many faults is indicative of the insidious way racism and whiteness works irl. especially if you’re white.

[lord-squiggletits]

The thing about Prowl is I don't really think canon was ever trying to frame him as a "necessary evil" or anything along the lines of "he's a shitty person but his work was necessary" like mmm.... That feels very much like something Prowl wants to believe about himself, not something that's actually factually true in reality.

I can't really make a good argument about it because I only remember like a handful of standout Prowl Moments in IDW1 but like... Prowl dropping a bomb on a neutral city and blaming it on the Decepticons is not "a necessary evil," that's a war crime. Prowl trying to destroy the space bridge to Caminus to keep Starscream from getting power over it, dooming the entire planet and its inhabitants to extinction by starvation, is not "a necessary evil," it's a fucking war crime. I feel like trying to frame such drastic measures as him "doing the dirty work of the Autobots" feels way too much like an excuse for actions that actually aren't justifiable. Especially since Prowl himself is far from being the 100% rational guy he thinks he is, considering how often he bases his decisions on things like his anti-Decepticon bias and his general refusal to follow any orders that contradict what he thinks is The Right Thing To Do (TM).

But also I think this is kind of the fault of the narrative of IDW1, since very few Autobots besides Prowl are given the chance to actually be morally gray even when the worldbuilding implicates them in some very morally gray things. Like, for example, JRO adding in the existence of MTOs which implies that the normally squeaky-clean leader Optimus was willing to approve the creation of new soldiers just to throw them into combat (and even the attempts to humanize the MTOs by giving them "an education" were eventually cut down to nothing but combat optimizations). And there's also the fact that Optimus knows about the Wreckers and has been known to call them on missions at least once (Stormbringer), meaning he's very much aware of the Wreckers and their tactics and is willing to call them in for fights when it's necessary.

I don't think you need to use Prowl as a crutch to make the Autobots morally gray. I think the Autobot leadership (or at least, Optimus, since few people besides him or Prowl seem to have major tactical command over the army as a whole) is plenty morally gray enough on its own, because the nature of war is inherently morally gray no matter how righteous your cause is. Reducing the lives of your own people into numbers on maps, harvesting resources, bringing MTOs to life just to die in a war they practically have no stake in, those things are enough.

And tbh it kind of bothers me when people try to saddle Prowl with the "dirty work of the Autobots", not just because it frames Prowl's blatantly evil actions as some sort of savior act taking the blame from the rest of the Autobots (which isn't even accurate, because the blame for war crimes falls on the entire army as an institution rather than one person), but because it downplays the moral grayness of the Autobots and pretends that no Autobot BESIDES Prowl ever participated in morally gray actions, which simply isn't true.

TLDR: Prowl isn't as much of a hero as he thinks he is because committing atrocities in the name of your cause doesn't change the fact that they're atrocities (and may not have even been justified). However, painting Prowl as the "token evil teammate" of sorts also places too much blame for the atrocities of war on him in particular, when in reality that's a burden shared by Optimus Prime and any other members of the Autobot military command structure.

[magpod-confessions]

@ doorkeay-disliker anon

You do know that most doorkeay shippers were shipping it before knowing anything about the age gap? And that these are two consenting adults in at least their 30s? And that after that information showed up, Jonny came out saying he fucked up the timeline like an idiot? That he fucked it up many times? Nobody in that group of people wants that age gap, and shipped them before knowing of said age gap. The general timeline of TMA has so many mistakes, and so many Michaels. The Michael that worked with Eric could've been a different one, or he could know about Michael because Mary told him after binding him to the book to make him feel bad.

If you don't like. A ship, that's fucking fine. It's not your thing. Nobody's telling you that you have you like it. But you need to get over yourself with this whole righteous bullshit. If you actually read what people write for doorkeay, you'd notice they're always making them healthily consenting adults.

Moreso. I've never seen a doorkeay shipper harass anyone, or cause any fights. But people who claim "doorkeay has a problematic age gap!" even led harassment campaigns and told artists and writers to off themselves repeatedly for weeks on end for shipping it, when said artists and writers made it explicitly clear that they had always seen the ship as being about 2 to 3 years different maximum.

I hate when people come after ships between fucking grown adults. Why are you so fucking obsessed with it?

Care when they're shipping a minor with an adult.

Gerard Keay is not a child, he's in his 30s, and before we got his birthyear from Protocol, he could've been born anywhere in the 80s. Including 1980. No matter how much you whine, he's in his 30s. That's an adult worldwide as far as I'm aware in this dimension, bucko.

If we didn't get the exact year, he could've even been 43 at the oldest today (1980 to 2023). Doorkeay shippers have been under this understanding since forever (timeline's fucked. Play with it). And they almost always picture Michael as being close in age. Hell, I know someone who made a whole timeline trying to catch all the options that the mistakes cause and found that there's a chance Michael could've been a year younger than Gerry (before getting the set year from Protocol. That timeline was made over 2 years ago)

And the few times there's been a larger age gap, the authors/artist always make sure to clarify:

THESE ARE TWO CONSENTING ADULTS, NOT TAKING ADVANTAGE OF EACH OTHER, AND CAPABLE OF LEAVING THE RELATIONSHIP IF THEY NEED TO.

Smh. G/d forbid girls like anything

.

[ewingstan]

So there's a few ways we've seen the public hostility to capes be framed.

There's complaint 1, the general "all parahumans are more trouble than they're worth," which has been something that's at least been brewing since Worm (a lot of Cauldron and the PRT's activities being focused on tamping down on this perception). A fairly common trope in superhero media. You see it everything from the X-Men to the Civil War comic event. Hell, its popular enough that the last two comics I've read (Chainsaw Man and Clown Corps), which are pretty much as different as you can be while still being in the same vague genre and medium, both had "Villains try to get everyone to fear superpeople indiscrimantly" plots.

But then there's the more specific complaint 2: "cape heroes aren't justifying their presence because they directly cause violence without lowering the amount of crime and violence overall." Now, Capricorn is obviously framing it in these terms because he's trying to appeal to the police he's talking to; he knows that's a complaint made about cops and he wants to make them feel like they're on the same side fighting the same battles (and in turn kinda claiming that both capes and cops are "against" a public who criticizes them). But I'd also say that the text itself wants us to consider complaint 2. Worm basically endorses it; a lot of the book reinforces the claim that capes/cops are integral to how a system gives rise to villains/criminals and largely fails to deal with such problems in a useful manner.

The question is whether Ward is best interpreted as making the opposite claim, endorsing Tristan's argument against complaint 2. Its certainly sympathetic to the frustrations of the "don't tell us we didn't make a difference when you weren't there to see" crowd—it almost has to be, given our narrator. But whereas in some parts I read Ward as saying "yeah its frustrating, but they're right, you aren't making a real difference and are part of the problem" other times it does portray Breakthrough making real changes for the better that couldn't have been accomplished other ways by fighting ontologically evil enemies (see: Teacher).

Again, kinda hard to do a story from this POV and completely avoid that. Disco Elyisum probably does the best job of it and I've still seen people argue that it doesn't avoid it entirely (still unsure where I land on that). Zdarsky's Daredevil (man I need to catch up on that) tries to avoid it in a way that doesn't really cohere; largely because it tries to be anti-prison while still framing characters like Spider-Man as paragons. Though in that at least it kinda works with Matt Murdock's whole pattern of righteous violence followed by intense doubt and guilt followed by newly directed righteous violence. I guess I'll have to keep reading to see how things ultimately land.