#I don’t care what his intention was

[aliceonsaturn]

I’m only on tiktok for book recs not people defending fucking KYOYA

[spacedace]

Okay but the Justice League finds out their new baby hero teammate Phantom is the Ghost King by virtue of the Fright Night showing up while they're in the middle of a meeting, looking terrifying and such and scaring the shit out of everyone- even more so when Constantine starts freaking out over the fact that the sworn night of the King of the Infinite Realms is in the Watchtower what the fuck that's apocalyptically bad Pariah Dark is supposed to be locked the fuck up forever - but instead of trying to smite them all or yeet them into the nightmare dimension he just pulls out a space themed packed lunch??? And gives it to Phantom??

And the mildly eldritch giant murder ghost is talking about how "The Queen Mother commanded me to ensure you ate my Lord, she says you missed your morning meal."

And Phantom is just grumbling about over protective sisters and "there's a cafeteria i would have been fine" what the fuck is happening right now?

What do you mean "oops you forgot" Phantom I thought the ghost thing was just a theme!

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

mdzs tumblr post au but it’s just “what were you doing at the devil’s sacrament” (nightless city)

[bicheetopuff]

Pretty much all of my friends thought Izu/Ocha was implied at the end because Hori made Izuku call Ochako his hero and they were shown together in the snow together walking. Idk man, I think Hori's done a mistake writing things like this in the story if he didnt mean Izu/Ocha to be seen as a pairing.

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[jalboyhenthusiast]

it’s truly champagne problems but it’s incredibly frustrating to me when ppl don’t GET harry or even make the slightest effort to try and see where he’s coming from about anything.. ever

[maxgicalgirl]

I’m not going to lie I’m like really stuck and don’t know what to do with my feelings about All Of This. I dont have therapy until next week and they don’t have space to move me up and I dont really have anyone else to talk through how I feel ? I dont know what to do.

[persephoneflouwers]

🌷

[which-hospital]

just thought to go back and rewatch something after last night’s episode, and…

I! need! to! lie! down! Every so often Casualty will completely accidentally, unintentionally happen upon something with this family’s whole situation and I’ll feel physically ill about it for a week.

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Hey so imagine an au where Dazai does kill Mori. He kills Mori and takes the position as Boss.

Years later, Akutagawa kills him and takes the position, and years later Kyouka kills Akutagawa.

Like- she never leaves the port mafia.

Idk- I just like the idea of this cycle of each boss being killed by their protege(?)

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #52: don’t fall in love with boys who write, ‘cause they edit and edit till the story’s just right

I turned and slammed my fist into the wall. And then I yelled as loud as I could, and did it again even harder. And if that sounds like something I had already learned not to do in front of her, well—let’s just say I’m a slow learner.

“Ben,” she murmured from her place on the white stone bench, fiddling quietly with her fingers in her lap.

I tried to catch my breath, then slumped my back hard against the stucco wall and started picking off the scraped skin from the side of my hand. It stung, but I kind of liked it—it’s hard to explain. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I just—I just wasn’t expecting to hear you to say that. Sorry.”

And what had she said, the reader may ask? Well—you might recall what she had said in that voice recording from earlier: that she wanted me, she needed me, she couldn’t live without me whether or not anyone else thought it was a good idea—all that stuff that made my ego go brrrrr—

Well, I come all the way to Ryloth and track her down, and she takes me into the depths of her father’s courtyard gardens where everything looks like a fairy tale, and tells me that: actually? She’s now considering a life of solitude, like the Jedi of old.

WHAT.

“I was in a really bad place when I sent you that message,” Fannie said quietly. “I…had just received some very difficult news, and I was feeling very alone, and I didn’t know why you weren’t talking to me…” She looked up at me, then, with the distrust of one scrutinizing a stranger. “To be honest, Ben, I don’t even know why you’re here right now.”

“Why else?” I asked, sinking down to the ground and matching the intensity of her gaze. “‘Cause I love you.”

It used to be difficult to say. But now, it was just like stating a fact. Water is blue. Space is black. Sand is coarse, rough and irritating. I love you.

But the words that had once made her light up and blush and giggle and look up at me with big sparkling eyes had no effect, this time, and her face, normally sweet and open, looked tired and closed-off. “Ben, you haven’t spoken to me for weeks. And it was certainly not for my lack of trying. But…it was actually rather helpful for me, because it gave me just what I needed in order to come to the conclusion that…that this probably isn’t right for us. Luke thought so, too. I went to visit him, a few weeks ago, and…”

“Yeah, I know you did,” I cut in quickly, to stop her from re-summarizing that whole saga all over again. “I was there. I overheard.”

She looked stunned. “You were—there?”

“Yeah, I was there,” I said, and it felt kind of good to say so, as if by doing so I was winning some kind of argument—I don’t know what, though. “I just so happened to be visiting the exact same weekend, and I was going over to his office to meet him, and then I overheard you talking to him, and I heard everything the two of you said. Or…most things. I heard what he said to you, anyway.”

Fannie frowned. “…So that’s why you weren’t talking to me,” she said stiffly, then cast her gaze down to her lap. “Well…I hadn’t decided yet, at that point. Not completely. I had decided mostly, but I still wanted to talk to you, first. That’s why I was asking you if we could talk—so that we could figure it out, together. But then, you kept on ignoring me, and left me to decide on my own—so, I was forced to come to my own decision, and perhaps it’s a good thing that I did, because—”

“Wait,” I interrupted, because I needed to know. “Did…did Luke tell you about what happened? Between me and him?”

Fannie looked at me and squinted, a little bit. “No. Why? Did something happen?”

Oh. So she didn’t know. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.

Well, that was perfect, I thought to myself. Because—that meant she could hear it from me, instead of from Luke. It meant I could tell the story my way, and, maybe, make myself look a little less bad—

And then, I had a sudden thought:

Maybe it meant I didn’t need to tell the story at all.

Ooh.

Ooooooh.

Snoke? Snoke, was that you?

But, it wasn’t Snoke, and I knew it.

It was Ben. Pure, unadulterated Ben.

“Ben,” Fannie said, breaking through my thoughts, sounding sort of serious and sort of alarmed. “You’re…you’re frightening me. What happened between you and Luke?”

“Well…I talked to him,” I said slowly. “After you left. I didn’t want to freak you out, so I waited for you to leave, and then…then I went, and I talked to Luke.”

I stopped there, trying to figure out what to say next.

“…Yes?” Fannie urged, her eyes boring through me. “And then what happened?”

Well, I didn’t have any time to think. I decided to just roll with whatever started coming out of my mouth first.

“…And then I said, ‘Uncle Luke, I heard what you said to Fannie, and it kinda hurts my feelings, but it totally makes sense, and I really, really respect you for looking out for her.’” I pressed my lips together and looked at her to see how she’d react.

Oh, man. That was such a hot steaming load, even I couldn’t buy it.

Fannie blinked a couple of times, processing this information. (Disinformation?)

“…Okay,” she said slowly. “…And then?”

She…she bought it??

Well, I was really in it now. I couldn’t go back. I could only keep going forward.

“And then,” I went on, floundering for my next words, “he…he told me not to talk to you anymore, and—well—see—that’s why I haven’t been texting you all this time.”

Oh! Okay. Okay. So…not only are we not telling her the story…we are actually telling her a completely new one that we just made up right now. Okay. Okay! Cool cool cool.

“Luke…told you…not to talk to me?” Fannie echoed, looking sort of shocked. “That…doesn’t sound like something he’d do at all.”

Yeah, and there’s actually a really great explanation for that, I thought to myself dryly.

But, I just shrugged. “Yeah, well—he told me he thought you were too attached to me. That you’d be too tempted to start things up with me again. It didn’t really seem right to me, either, but—hey, he’s the Jedi Master, isn’t he? I just…figured he knew best.”

Fannie didn’t say anything back. But, I had her rapt attention, and her big brown eyes looked very big, and very sad.

“It was…really hard not to talk to you,” I continued, looking at her sincerely. (Except, not actually, because that would have required me to, you know, not be lying.) “I really wanted to talk to you. I missed you. A lot. I saw your voice message come in, but I didn’t open it. And then I couldn’t take it anymore, and I finally did open it—like, today, actually—and I heard how awful you sounded, and I couldn’t take it, and I had to come see you.”

You know what’s funny? It didn’t feel like lying. The more drawn-out this whole thing became, the more I actually started to…believe my own version of events. I mean…well…yeah! A lot of the emotions behind it were real, anyway—I really did feel like Luke had wronged us by meddling in our relationship and I really did miss her and I really was glad to see her right now. I sure liked this version of events better than the real version. So…why shouldn’t this version be the real one, instead? And by just…feeding it to her, I could make it true.

For the first time in a long time, I began to feel like everything between me and Fannie was gonna be…okay.

Huh. Who knew? The power to alter reality wasn’t exclusive to an occult Dathomirian magic, or hidden in some secret Sith holocron. No—the power to alter reality lived in my very tongue. And I sealed my new reality into existence with one final little lie:

“Ben…sorry, forgive me, but…are you…are you telling the truth right now?”

I paused, and licked my lips, and said the magic word.

“Yes.”

I could almost imagine a deep, resonant chime, like a deafening gong, rumbling out of my false confession and rippling out and forever altering the entire fabric of the universe and making it all, suddenly, true—

Except, no. It wasn’t that easy. I would have to keep chasing after and mending the tears myself, to keep the fabric of my new little universe from falling apart.

Fannie shook her head like she had a headache. “I…I should talk to Luke.”

“No,” I told her quickly, ready with my needle and thread. “I—well—I don’t want him to know I talked to you. I promised him I wouldn’t. I don’t want him to find out.”

Miraculously, she nodded. But, not as one who was fully awake—she nodded as if she were in a dreamlike trance. I don’t think I was really all that convincing. I think she was just too overwhelmed to really think critically.

That, and I had probably built up enough trust with her by now that she didn’t think I’d just lie to her face.

“This…yes, this changes a lot,” she said, knitting an imaginary scarf with her fingers. “I…Ben, I’m sorry. I misjudged you. I thought—well, I assumed—you’ve had trouble replying to my messages before, so I jumped to conclusions, and—no, I’m sorry. Why would Luke—? I still don’t understand, but—no, this—this changes a lot of things.”

I stood up. Slowly.

And approached her.

And sat down next to her on the bench.

And held my hand out toward hers.

And looked her in the big brown eyes.

She looked at me, and hesitated, then placed her hand in mine.

W-o-w. It had been weeks since we’d last talked. But since we’d been on different worlds since the start of September, we hadn’t touched in months (well, two of ‘em, I guess—but two still counts). Touching her was like touching a live wire. I started—well…feeling things. Things I’d never felt my whole life up until sometime this summer. My heart started pounding—but this was the good kind of heart rate increase.

I think she started feeling things, too.

We looked at each other.

I put my free hand under her chin, and tilted her face up a little, and didn’t look away from her eyes, and brought my face reeeal close to hers till we were breathing each other’s breath, and nuzzled her cheek with my nose, and pressed my lips to her jawline, and drew back and looked her in the eyes again. Just to see what would happen.

Well…we started swappin’ cooties, that’s what happened. And I’m not in the business of writing that kind of stuff, so I’ll just tell you we kept all our clothes on and we still didn’t kiss on the mouth exactly and we never hit any bases but just messed around on the infield like five feet out from the batter’s box and you’ve probably seen worse on middle school campuses anyway—but I’m still skipping ahead regardless.

“No, wait, stop,” she mumbled, muffled by my hair. This was about twenty minutes later. (Maybe? It’s always so hard to tell.) “I—I don’t want to be doing this. I just told you that I don’t want to be with anyone—that I want to dedicate myself to the Force—at least for now.”

I got up off of her and knelt down in the grass and grinned and wiped off my mouth on my sleeve, because I was all slobbery (see, I told ya—I don’t write romance flimsibacks). “With all due respect, Fan? You’re not cut out for celibacy.”

She glared at me as she wiped my spit off her cheek. “I really think that’s my call to make, not yours.”

“Hey, I’m just repeating what you said, sister.”

“What did I say? And when?”

“That whole time I was kissin’ up your neck just now. You were going ‘I’m not cut out for celibacy I’m not cut out for celibacy’ under your breath. I could hear you.” I laughed at her, and she flushed.

“I…I didn’t know you could hear.”

“Well—your mouth was right next to my ear, sweetheart, of course I could hear!”

“Oh.”

I laughed again and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, embarrassed, and let me do it.

Things almost felt like they used to.

But…they weren’t. Not yet, anyway.

“…No. No.” She detangled herself from me and sat up against the wall and buried her face in her hands. “I…can’t let myself change my mind, just because you’re here. Even if it wasn’t your fault that you weren’t talking to me. No—I made up my mind. I can’t be in a relationship right now. Not with everything going on with Pennie—I’m too vulnerable to unhealthy attachments.”

“Wait—what’s going on with Pennie?” I asked, shuffling over on my knees and sitting next to her. “Besides what you told me last spring?”

When she had told me last spring about her youngest sister’s…relationship with their father, it had taken a long time for her to spit it out, and she had done so amidst heavy sobs. This time, it came out as easily as a breath, and her eyes were dry and hollow.

“Well, Ben: Pentarra has offered to make my sister one of his wives.”

I stared. He had already made her one of his dancers. But…one of his wives?

Ew.

“But…she’s his daughter.”

Fannie nodded.

“That’s…disgusting.”

She nodded again, and nearly smiled—the kind of smile one smiles when life has become so cruel as to be almost humorous. And for a second, I felt horrible that I was—maybe—I don’t know—taking advantage of her current vulnerable state to try to get her to stay with me and be mine—

But then, I reframed it in my head, and felt…not so bad. I wasn’t taking advantage of anything. She needed me—now more than ever. She’d said so herself, in that voice recording. She’d been in a rough place when she recorded it, sure—but, isn’t that when people are at their most honest?

“I am the only one in my family who has been willing to say out loud that this is wrong,” Fannie went on. “Not everyone approves, necessarily—but no one else will speak out against it. My sister hates me, because she feels I don’t think I can make her own decisions. She sees this as her wedding. Everyone is preparing for it as if it were a wedding. Well, it’s no wedding to me—it is merely a perverse charade, and I will not—cannot—honor their false union. I have felt very alone, and I know that right now I am very susceptible to developing an unhealthy attachment—so, I’m sorry, Ben, even if we did share the same beliefs about the Force…now’s just not a good time for me.”

“What is an unhealthy attachment, anyway?” I asked, then.

“An attachment that would cause me to place my trust and hope in it, rather than in the Force,” Fannie explained, almost mechanically. “And I cannot afford distraction at such a crucial time in my life.”

I looked her in the eyes. “But…at such a crucial time in your life, you’d still be alone,” I told her.

She looked out into the distance. “The Force is all I need, Ben. I must remind myself of that.”

“No,” I argued, and reached over and turned her face to look at me. “No. I may not believe all your beliefs, Fan—not with the same level of conviction that you do, anyway—but I do know your beliefs and I know what the Jedi teach. I’ve heard you say so yourself: the Force isn’t a person. It’s an impersonal energy. You could be as close to the Force as Master Yoda himself, and you’d still be all alone, and have no one. The Force doesn’t love you. The Force doesn’t know you. The Force doesn’t give a crap about you—it can’t. When you’re staring at the ceiling and crying your eyes dry in the middle of the night till your ribcage aches and your fingers go numb, the Force will not feel a damn—darn—thing for you. It’s a power you can draw from, a source of supernatural energy, whatever—but at the end of the day? It doesn’t freaking care. Because it can’t. It’s just a thing. Midichlorians, or whatever the frick. You’re gonna place your trust and hope in that? You’d still be alone. All alone.”

She looked like she was about to say something—to pose an argument, or something—but she stopped short. Her eyes widened in a swell of panicked horror and filled with tears, and her hands started to tremble. Her breathing became kind of short and ragged. I could feel her heart opening up and splitting like a huge, raw wound.

Ooh. I’d gotten her good.

And so what if it came at the expense of shaking the very foundations of her most deeply-held religious beliefs? If something couldn’t hold up to a good shaking, was it even worth believing in?

I saw doubt in her eyes. Tasted it in the air all around her. Wondered what Uncle Luke would think of that.

Maybe Luke had been right about me, after all: Ben Solo, corrupter of Jedi.

…Or maybe of just one Jedi in particular.

I reached out, and held both her hands tight in mine to still her trembling. Pulled her a little closer to me.

“Fannie. I’m a person,” I told her slowly, stamping out each word in durasteel. “I know you, and I love you. I could be with you, in all of this. I want to be there for you, and with you.” I laid a gentle kiss on top of her tear-stained cheek. “The Force is great and all, and if you wanna build your life around it, cool—but it’s not a person, it’s a thing. You need a someone, Fannie, not a something. So, all I’m saying is…” I kissed her other cheek, and then her nose. “Let me be your someone. Please.”

She whimpered. I felt it again—the splintering of her heart.

“I…I want to say yes, Ben, I just…don’t know…”

“Fan. Please. I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying this for you.” (This was something I said because it sounded good, not because it was actually true.)

But she shook her head and blinked out some more tears, and I spent several more minutes persuading and a few more minutes cajoling and I even threw in a little begging for fun—still, I couldn’t get her to say yes, and my patience, which you will be surprised to learn I’ve never had in high reserves anyway, began to wear thin.

“Well…think about it,” I said finally, maybe a little rougher than I meant to, turning out from her again and sitting back against the wall. “And—think about it quickly, if you can. I need to get back to Naboo tonight. Tomorrow morning, latest. I just spent the weekend on Kashyyyk with Amalia—”

“You were with Amalia all weekend?” Fannie interrupted suddenly, like she was waking up, her eyes wide. Her lower lip sucked in a little bit.

I blinked at her, trying to figure out what was going on (I’m a little slow like that sometimes), and I was about to go “oh, chill out, it wasn’t anything weird, we just went as friends”—

But…then it occurred to me. That…keeping my mouth shut? Kind of maybe swayed things in my favor.

So…I shrugged a little, kept my cards to myself, and looked at her to see what she’d do.

“…Are you…interested in dating people now?” Fannie asked finally. She bit her lip. “Because, you said before that you weren’t…that you weren’t interested in dating. Just interested in me.”

Oh, so now she was paying attention!

She was right. I had said that. After I’d decided to fall in love with her (because that’s how it had happened for me; I didn’t just fall in love, I had to decide to do it), part of me wondered if it would change how I saw other girls. But, it didn’t. I looked around me and nothing magical had happened and whenever I looked at women I still just saw people. And whenever I looked at Amalia, I almost saw a dude (except in certain select low-light conditions, apparently).

But Fannie didn’t need to know that.

“Weeell…” I said slowly, as if I were thinking through it, when in reality it was already thought out. “Being with you kinda made me realize…that it’s actually sort of nice to have someone around.” Which was true. “And, that I maybe would like to have a partner after all.” Which was true. “And…I don’t know. Amalia and I do get along pretty well.” Which was true.

I looked at her, and shrugged, and checked my metaphorical hand under the metaphorical table, and watched for her next move.

And, oh, wait—there was an ace in here! I whipped that out and laid it down.

“But…if I was gonna be with anyone…I’d really like it to be you…Fa’nakhra,” I whispered, stroking the back of my index finger against her cheek. And I totally butchered her name, I’m sure, but—you know? It’s the thought that counts.

And with all my cards out now, I ended my turn, and waited to see what she’d do.

Well…she folded, that’s what she did. My bluff worked, and the ace clinched it. She folded, and she folded in half, and she laid down in my lap and clasped her arms around my waist and cried and said she didn’t want to be alone—she wanted to be my girlfriend. My girlfriend! So I could finally stop with the whole “girlfriend-not-really-my-girlfriend” thing and just call her my girlfriend now. And yeah, it kinda sucks that she had to come to that decision after the really manipulate-y “what if I dated someone who wasn’t you?” instead of the slightly-less-manipulate-y “let me be your person,” but—hey—I got what I wanted, and that was the important thing to me.

Oh yeah and also getting to be there for her during this trying time—that was important to me, too, of course. Just for the record.

But…I felt like crap for lying to her about me and Luke. And, I felt like crap for kind of goading her into this position. And, I thought to myself, no—wait—if I let this go on, it’s just gonna keep getting worse and worse—I have to nip this in the bud now, or I’m gonna ruin both our lives—so…even though it hurt like hell, I gritted my teeth and pulled her up and looked her in the eyes and said, wait, no, Fan, wait…I’m sorry…this is all just a huge mess…I’ve really screwed things up…I haven’t been fair to you…and I came clean to her about everything—

Except…no, I didn’t, because that whole last paragraph was a giant freaking lie, and I just lied to you exactly like how I lied to her. What I really did was I held her in my arms and I grinned all sweet and I wiped off her tears as she was still crying and said, okay, Fan, it’s official then: you’re my girlfriend! And then I kissed her—not on the mouth, but close enough that the corners of our lips brushed, and guess what, your boi has a girlfriend now, officially.

But—didn’t you wish that it was true? Didn’t you feel happier when you thought it was? Didn’t you like me better two paragraphs ago? Don’t you hate me more now that I told you I lied? Wasn’t that a much more satisfying draft, and wasn’t I a much more likable character?

…Exactly.

See?

I should’ve just let you believe the lie.

[dykedvonte]

Why do you think did Anya ask Jimmy to give Curly the meds when she knew what kind of person Jimmy was?

I subscribe to the idea it was because she couldn’t bring herself to force the pills on Curly the same way Jimmy forced himself on to her. That and a mix of it inducing nausea due to the pregnancy. Since she took care of him outside of that one task, I think it was more the sound of him struggling and resisting than disgust with him.

On a personal level, it’s Curly. She still likes Curly and seeing the one person that was just starting to hear her be reduced to such a suffering, vulnerable state. It hurts and it’s frustrating and it’s unfair and despite the med bay being her area, she doesn’t like hearing the pain inside it. She asks Jimmy in my mind because Daisuke is a bit too young, to eager in her mind to help, he could easily and accidentally make it more painful for Curly. Swansea is just to gruff but Jimmy?

Jimmy was Curly’s friend, best friend, closest friend. He knew him and vice versa. Of all of them he should be the most willing and best option to get rid of his pain. I mean, I don’t think it was with malicious intent. She knew how cruel Jimmy could be but Curly said it himself.

“He won’t try any shit with me.”

She clings on to that a bit, despite knowing it’s meaningless now. I think it makes a nice parallel to how Curly’s attempts to help just fell flat or made things a bit worse. She wants him to stop hurting but this way just brings a whole new type of pain. It’s so much more obvious the way Jimmy treats people with Anya cause he has no false pretenses with her. He makes her feel guilty for asking to do one thing similarly to how he guilt trips and twists words with Curly.

[quietwingsinthesky]

sometimes i think about my spn oc and how i rewrote everything about amara to interact with the story i was trying to tell about her. there were some really neat ideas in that i need to recycle for something one day. like, in the show proper, they just let amara take over a human baby and that’s fine, but amara’s not Meant To Be Here. this entire universe is one constructed in her absence. saying she can possess a human body should be like saying if you took a person and sent them to a universe where 1+1=3, they could just figure out how to function within that.

which in story took the form of Amara being something that could not be Understood, only Rationalized. a force locked outside the narrative who could only get inside and destroy things if given a role within it. by the Winchesters as A Monster To Face. by Chuck as Wayward, Unreachable Sister. and by miss oc as. simultaneously a projected creature to be saved, an amalgamation of injustices done to herself (and others) that would never be righted but could be made up for by being a part of this. and as something impossibly powerful that could be both protection and purpose.

and the Darkness wasn’t any of those things, really, but to have agency in her own story required new shackles, but ones she was always straining against. she wouldn’t fit inside the confines of a human mind, let alone a body, at least not well enough to leave it Intact. like lucifer burning through nick, but Worse. because the burns were an expected outcome of skin not strong enough to hold him. humans were built for angels, some were built better and some worse, but they’re meant to work. putting amara in human skin should disconnect the skin and mind and soul from the reality her brother built itself, i think. slowly. bit by bit.

and at the same time, i’d gone and written the kind of wild scenario you really can only write for your thirteen year old mary sue, given that spn oc the part of herald/high priestess/failed vessel. which she pursued with wild abandon like that would fix anything wrong with her <3

in the end, running alongside the borrowed family theming of the original show was my own theme of “how much self-annihilation will you accept to make your point. are you accepting it, really. or are you seeking it.” not just physically, in letting something unmake the base components of what you are as it tries to fit inside you or in it constricting and suffocating itself beyond self-recognition to get inside in the first place, but, obviously, it’s supernatural, how much selfhood do you cede to your family. is it worth it.

it was interesting, if nothing else. let thirteen year old me cook. she had ideas.

[nellasbookplanet]

Starting to be really fascinated by Ludinus as a character. Like, as far as I can tell, he really does think of himself and his actions as selfless. "Let me be your villain, if it means liberation for all and forever," he says, and he means it.

Unlike many other powerful, evil mages, he doesn't actually care about gaining power. He doesn’t seek immortality and godhood, greater magics to shape the natural world, the power to rule nations and peoples. Causing the fall of Molaesmyr? Starting the notoriously evil-wizard-shaping Cerberus Assembly? Starting a war in Wildemount? All but a means to an end, and the end is freedom for all. On some level he even seems to understand that he isn't a good person, that he's caused immeasurable harm to countless people (hence the 'let me be your villain' part), but it’s all worth it, because it's done to save all.

The thing is, I suspect a young Ludinus wasn't so different from, say, Essek Thelyss. If he truly was active during the glory days of Aeor, he was likely as high on his own power as anyone. Like Essek, seeking knowledge and magical 'progress' simply for the sake of it. Because he wanted to. Because he could. People and nations were collateral because people and nations don't matter, not compared to knowledge and magic. Like Essek once said, the intentions were never good, they were important. Then the Calamity happened, and Aeor was struck from the sky, and suddenly Ludinus was given a cause.

Ludinus is what Essek could have been, had he thought his intentions were, in fact, good, even as they cause great harm. All Ludinus's methods and beliefs are the same as before the Calamity. Fundamentally, he’s the same person as before. People still don’t matter. Only now, he can tell them that they do, and after having done so for a thousand years maybe he even believes it a little. He’s trying to help! He doesn’t actually care about helping; he cares about unseating the gods because they slighted him, but help will still come out of it, in his opinion. In that pursuit, everything - magic, methods, morals, people - are nothing but a means to an end.

What would he even do, if everything went to plan? The gods gone, mortals free from fate? Would he know what to do with himself, how to return to someone wanting knowledge and magic just for the sake of it? Or has a thousand years of treating it as a tool killed the joy and awe of it? Would he simply stand there in this new, free world of his creation, and suddenly ask, "What am I supposed to do with this now that I have it?" Because in the end, what he wants isn't freedom for all; it’s revenge. And revenge absorbs everything, even the one seeking it, until its completion leaves you but a hollow shell even in a world made better.

[matoitech]

while i support small skinny pretty gay/bi fem dudes irl ive never rly cared about fictional guys like that unless theyre lio from promare bcuz he actually does it well and fem guys like him. otherwise its one of those character designs and tropes i have like zero interest in whatsoever. they’re so common with ocs and they just never act or function or look like actual fem gay guys bcuz 99% of them aren’t made by gay guys.. yk like it’s such a turnoff. i’m using gay generally as ‘men who fuck men’ here btw, a lot of these characters are bisexual