#but i dont read fics as often

[ryutarotakedown]

day 1: archival assistants/canon divergence, or day 7: free day @tma-girls-week

[a/n: hiiiiii magnus archives i missed you. sorry if this is out of character i did go back to read through the 158–160 transcripts (and 119 + 061 + 091 for funsies) to refresh my memory, but]

Summary: Post-159, Basira finds a weird statement in the midst of what she's about to send to Jon. Or rather, she doesn't find one? It's hard to explain.

-

It probably says something about Basira that she hasn't cried.

Well, not yet. But it has been two weeks already, and it still doesn't feel real. She can see Daisy whenever she closes her eyes — Daisy staring forward at the old man and his friend, reality beginning to ripple around her skin, honing her into something sharp. A missile with a locked target. Hunter, hunted.

She can hear Daisy say out of the corner of her mouth, promise me.

…It's not that Basira hadn't seen this coming from ten miles away. The face-stealing monster might have been a surprise, but the first time Basira read about "silent compulsion powers; assigned investigator: Alice Tonner; assigned location: Epping Forest," she knew exactly what Daisy was, and exactly how this would end…

She just wishes Daisy had at least looked her in the eye.

No. This is no time for stupid — sentimentality or softness or whatever; she can almost feel the disapproval radiating from her late father. That was how she'd gotten into this mess in the first place. No more thinking about Daisy or Melanie or Jon than necessary. Head up, back straight —

Right. Statements. That was what she'd been after. The police had finally cleared out this afternoon, so she doesn’t need to face any more questions about Jonah Magnus's corpse ("definitely a corpse") or the tunnels ("no, officer, I don't know of any maps for the place") or why she looked so familiar ("are you sure you're not imagining things?"). Instead she has the whole evening off to gather statements so her coworker (friend) (coworker) doesn't snap and start traumatizing random Scottish grocery store employees.

Oh, the joy.

Near the end of everything they had all stopped pretending that being an archival assistant was for actually organizing an archive, but now Basira thinks about it, she does recall Jon saying that he'd started from the most recent filing cabinets. So if she starts from oldest, she's most likely to find the statements he hasn't eaten yet. Yes, that makes sense.

She picks herself up, dusts herself off, and heads towards the back of the archives.

1870s, 1860s, 1850s, early 1800s. Here. Basira reaches into the back of the shelf — oh, cobweb, eurgh — and pulls out a pile of manila folders. As she shakes them in the air to get the dust away, one sheet of paper snags in the wind and falls out; then another, and another. She sighs and sets the whole pile down on the floor, dropping to her knees to gather the loose papers. Jon stopped telling them to staple documents together after Melanie said it was bad for archival purposes, but honestly, Basira could understand why…

Wait. When had she made it out of the archives?

She blinks down at herself. She's standing at the top of the staircase, the one that leads from the Magnus Institute lobby down to the archival basement. The statements are arranged neatly in her hands, free of the dust.

…She doesn't remember getting up here.

(In a universe just to the left of this one: Basira sighs to herself. She hasn't had an episode like this since right after the wax museum, when she felt like she was blinking in and out of existence as she picked up a payphone outside and managed to tell the police the address before hanging up — she hadn't trusted her hands to stay steady on any steering wheel, so afterwards she'd walked the whole way back to the Institute.

That whole section of memory is lost to her. All Basira can recall is the rhythm of her boots against the concrete, and then against the carpet of the entrance area, uncertain voices — Melanie grabbing her shoulders and asking questions she couldn't understand — where's Daisy —

The point is, it's not out of character for Basira's recollection events to just… glitch, sometimes. There's no point wondering what happened in between, not when she's the only person she knows left in the archives. She leaves the statements at the postal office and gets back to work.

The world ends two days later.)

But in this universe, Basira pauses:

She isn't thinking about Daisy. Basira is in fact very good at not thinking about things when she feels stable, and it's been two weeks and only one breakdown since everything. Besides, the fog in her brain doesn't usually just cut out her memories that cleanly, so that can't be why she just lost ten minutes of her life.

It reminds her of — yes. Jon. The day he'd come to tell her about how to quit. It had gone something like this:

Basira: You're joking. Archivist: I wish I was. Basira: …………………… Archivist: You're… not going to do it, are you? Basira: What, did you eat a bit of my brain or — Archivist: No; I can actually read faces, Basira. Basira: (exhales) I'll think about it, but…… no, I don't think so. Archivist: Right. [A pause.] Archivist: …Right. Well — Basira: How sure are you? Archivist: What? Basira: I mean, this… tape you found, how'd you get it, anyway? Archivist: Oh. It's hard to explain… I was going through that box of tapes in Peter's office, and I tried to find a, a blind spot. Basira: You tried to find… your own blind spot. Archivist: I told you it was hard to explain! But — yes. There was one that I kept skipping over, like I couldn't see it — I sorted them into "interesting" and "not interesting," and then kept looking through the "not interesting" pile… and after I, after I'd isolated the least interesting one, that was when I actually — saw. It just… I couldn't recall seeing it there before. It was like, like a gap in my memory. Basira: Huh. Archivist: And even after I found it — my hand kept pulling away from it. So it must have been something the Web… It must have wanted to hide it. Basira: Hmm. Like someone trying to touch a stove countertop. Archivist: A stove—? Basira: If the stove countertop could also induce amnesia. Archivist: (doubtful) I suppose when you look at it that way…

Basira frowns now, as she looks down at the pile of statements in her hands. Another Web trick, then? In these statements?

Well. The tape Jon got did help Melanie escape, at least. So if Basira sorts these statements into "interesting" and "not interesting"…

After twenty minutes and several strange looks from employees milling about in the lobby, Basira sits back. One manila folder left in "not interesting." Or rather, left in the category "this doesn't warrant any further examination, go post it to Scotland already."

It takes several tries for her to open it. Several more tries for her to read it.

Statement of Hazel Rutter… That all seems normal. She forces her eyes to focus, go beyond the drab information box and take in every word.

And then: there it is. The hidden amnesiac stove countertop.

Hello, Jon. Apologies for the—

Basira sucks her breath through her teeth. Oh, this is bad. This is very bad. She has to go call Martin, warn him and Jon, scan through all the other statements just in case…

But first order of business: she drops Hazel Rutter's statement into the paper shredder, and watches Jonah Magnus's master plan dissolve into ash.

---

[a/n: i was going to finish this on day 1, but Then I Didn't. thankfully as it is i can just barely sneak it into day 7: free day!

i hope all of you basira enjoyers (and also non-basira-enjoyers) like it! i'm sorry i haven't been more active on discord recently, i swear i'll be back as soon as i get out of this country in like three weeks]

[umblrspectrum]

tessa, being the edgy little freak she is, obviously took the original darkxwolf username

[cassandracain52]

Reverse trope

where instead of the Bats forgetting that they’re adopted (something actual adoptees do on occasion and is hilarious) they forget that some of them *cough Damian cough* aren’t

_______

Jason in the heat of a probably ridiculous argument: Yeah well YOU’RE adopted!

Tim just as invested in said argument: So are YOU! We all are!

Damian who had previously been quietly watching this unfold while he drank his tea: Actually I’m not

Tim and Jason who didn’t realize he was there but are already DoneTM: …… Damian continuing to sip his tea entirely unbothered: :)

Damian: Because I’m not an orphan-

Jason: ok, yoU KNOW WHAT-

____

or like in their group texts (that we know they have thanks to Nightwing (2016) #79)

*Steph changed the group chat name to “Bruce Wayne’s Personal Orpanage”*

Jason: Really?

Steph: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Steph: It’s the truth Damian: Both my parents are very much alive

Steph: Shhh you don’t count

Cass: Mine too Duke: Technically so are mine

Barbara: I still have a dad so there’s that

Steph: YOU GUYS ARE RUINING THE JOKE

Tim: Stephanie aren’t BOTH of your parents alive???

Steph: KNOW WHAT? FINE

*Steph changed the group chat name to “The Technicality Police”*

Tim: well that’s more accurate at least

Steph: :)

_____

Damian in his 10th argument with Tim of the day: That’s- this is-

Tim in full Antagonizing Big Brother mode: I’m listening

Damian -a Gen Z and best friend to Jon Kent- extremely frustrated: This is such Motherless behavior!

Tim taken aback: [voice cracking] W-what-?

Damian who didn’t mean to say that but doubling down anyway because his bloodline doesn’t believe in admitting mistakes: THIS! This is such Motherless behavior!

The rest of the family who is also motherless: :O

Cass whose been spending way too much time with Meme Queen Stephanie Brown and not involved in the argument but finding it entertaining regardless: [nodding along seriously] Facts

Tim: [visibly betrayed] CASS WHAT-

A video copy of the interaction gets sent out anonymously to the entire family. Barbara is the prime suspect but there is no proof as of yet (and they will never find any)

Steph, Cass, and Duke continue to respond “Motherless behavior” everytime one of the bats does something they deem questionable/insane. It is said often

It only stops when one night in the middle of patrol. Batman is in full Dark Knight mode (possibly in the middle of threatening someone) and descends from the ceiling into the middle of a warehouse drug deal, dark cape billowing out behind him-

and Steph just automatically whispers “Motherless behavior” forgetting her com was still very much on

She immediately realizes what she said and frantically apologizes but it’s too late.

Bruce just- Blue Screens. Completely stunned into silence

Dick -who was unfortunate enough to be the one teamed up with Batman tonight- is fighting for his life to choke back his laughter

Jason doesn’t even try to stop his and has collapsed to his knees from lack of air from how hard he’s laughing. Cass try’s half heartedly patting his back to help to no avail

The criminals are terrified into surrender from The Red Hood just laughing hysterically at seemingly nothing while Batman just Stands There

Damian ends up being the only one still functioning enough to continue arresting everyone, though he is privately amused and strangely proud

Tim and Barbara have saved both the com recordings and cowl footage to at least three different servers and sent it to absolutely everyone before Batman even recovers

Duke finds out second hand the next morning and is furious he missed the chance to see it in person. He declares he is moving to the nightshift so it doesn’t happen again. (He is all talk and goes to bed by 9 pm)

Bruce bans the phrase for life and promises swift and server punishment to anyone who dares to use it again

[spiderziege]

kings and clocks and stories

inspired by @bellshazes Realisa Onum

[cheatingtime]

you wanna know how i got this scar.... ?

The Dark Knight: Bully Edition (by @fear3loathing)

[gunstellations]

{🩷 +5 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 }

Inspired by: To Dream in Shades of Green - Intensely_Reading

[charlie-artlie]

more knightformers texaid, this time inspired by the lovely lovely fic from @thebirdkiwi >:] plz go read it if you havent already it’s so good!!!!!

and, as always, knightformers belongs to the wonderful @archie-sunshine

[teshiee]

stress doodlleleee hello mr jay ! ! walker

[miasmaghoul]

In Memoriam

Rating: E

Pairing: Dewdrop/Sister Imperator

Word Count: 6.8k

Contains: grief, mourning, angst, hurt/comfort, sex in flashbacks, Dew coping with loss in the only way he knows how.

Beta'd by @iamthecomet <3<3<3

It may not be the first time he’s lost a Papa, but somehow this time is much worse than when it was Terzo. Probably because there hadn’t been much time to bond with Terzo before his untimely demise - a few months on the road hadn’t provided the best environment to form a relationship beyond Papa and ghoul.

Losing Copia, though, has proven to be a very different experience. It’s not like the man has actually gone anywhere, but the day he’d announced his appointment as Frater Imperator Dew’s stomach dropped through the floor. His natural stoicism had been the only thing that allowed Dew to join the others in congratulating him, but the overwhelming sense of loss he still feels casts the blackest shadow over that spark of joy, and as much as he doesn’t want to face it Dew knows exactly why.

To him, there will only ever be one Imperator.

Read the rest on AO3!

[rexscanonwife]

First Impressions

The galaxy was in pure chaos. She wasn't one to shy away from a bit of chaos now and then. In fact, some would say she was something of an expert back in her padawan days! This was different, however. Ever since The Battle of Geonosis, everyone from the outer rim to the heart of Coruscant was in a tizzy to say the least. Drawing lines, choosing sides, making plans, and in the middle of it were the Jedi. Once they were the galaxy's humble peacekeepers, now they were expected to fight this war for the citizens they had sworn to protect.

A/N: I suddenly got in the mood to write a little something about the day Kepler was assigned as Brea's padawan because I don't think I've talked very much about how everything started! No warnings for this one, just a short drabble and some dialogue to sort of establish their relationship dynamic at the beginning to set the stage. Maybe I'll add onto it and include their first mission, maybe not, but for now here it is! (Divider cred. @/cafekitsune)

Brea’s foot tapped anxiously against the spotless floor of the temple as she wrote out the report on her last mission, her boots leaving slight scuffs on the pristine marble in the process. She'd developed the nervous habit over time after suddenly finding herself in the position of Commander, less than a week after becoming a Jedi Knight to begin with.

She had no battalion to command. When she was deployed on missions, it was usually either as backup for a Jedi General who'd gotten in a bit over their heads as they attempted to push back Separatist droids with their clones, or she went out solo. Using her skills to scout out potential threats, in which case she was solely responsible for the outcome of such missions…and for all the paperwork. Her least favorite part of the job.

Getting shot at by droves of nasally-voiced droids was somehow preferable to this. Her eyes strained against the walls of text on the datapad before her, a headache beginning to form from blue light exposure. Her focus started to wane as she wondered how a droid could have a nasally voice anyhow? What kind of person would program them with that particular kind of voice box? Was their intention to annoy the Grand Army of the Republic to death?

“Speak with you, may I, Young Callisto?” An unmistakable voice and speech pattern shook her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, Master Yoda! How can I help you?” She said, lowering her datapad to reveal the short, green Jedi before her.

He was not alone, however. A young boy stood awkwardly just a few inches behind him. His small frame was emphasized by his posture, shoulders slightly hunched as he looked nervously between her and the back of Yoda's head. Though his robes were disheveled and seemed to be just a bit too big for him and his signature braid was done rather sloppily, he was obviously a padawan. Seemed the right age, probably between 12 and 13 years old. He wore thick goggles that obscured most of his face, but behind them his brow was furrowed, and he had slight wrinkles under his eyes that he was definitely too young for.

She didn't have to use the Force to know that this was a kid who didn't want to be here. That begged the question, why was he? She looked back towards Yoda for answers.

His large ears twitched as he leaned against his cane, always taking such a long time to say what he was going to say. She tried to remind herself that she was in the presence of someone much older and wiser than her and to not get impatient.

“Young Callisto, a very important task for you, I have. As you know, spread thin across the galaxy are the Jedi. Yes. Very thin.” He started pacing slowly, his cane tapping against the floor as he did so. “As many hands as possible, we will need to win this war.”

Finally, he gestured to the boy. “Introduce yourself, young one.”

He seemed unprepared, as he suddenly snapped upright and his hands fumbled to clumsily grip at his robes. “O-oh, me do it? Ok, uhm…my name is Kepler Quinn, Master Jedi!” He punctuated this with a quick and shallow bow, more akin to a nod than anything else. His small voice had an extremely distinct squeak to it, as though it couldn't decide whether the pitch wanted to settle up or down.

“Well, it's uh, nice to meet you, Kepler!” She smiled invitingly to try and set him more at ease, “Heh, so polite. Thank you, but I'm not a Master.” wait…

Brea began to piece together just what Yoda was suggesting and was stunned into silence for the briefest of moments. Not long ago, Anakin had told her about how a padawan was suddenly sprung onto him without so much as a warning, and in the middle of a battle no less. Sure, she had thought about perhaps someday in the future taking on a padawan learner herself, but she always thought it would be a long time from now and that it would be her own choice. And with the war going on, she just didn't have the time.

“Master Yoda, I- I- don't know…how good of an idea this is. I mean, I've only been a Knight for how long?” She stammered, not wanting to sound like she was just outright rejecting the kid when he was standing within earshot. “Do you really want me to be a master?”

Yoda hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin “a strange and unusual time this is for us all, Young Callisto. Do things the way we have in the past, we cannot. Learn to adapt, we must. And learn from you this youngling will!” He pointed at her with his cane for emphasis.

“In need of help, General Skywalker and his men are. You and Young Quinn will go to the front lines and assist them. Yes, that is your task.”

Brea perked up just a bit upon hearing this. Ever since seeing Anakin on Geonosis what seemed like only yesterday, the two were as thick as they had been as younglings, but with how the war was going they hardly had any time to spend together. They usually ended up posted in totally separate star systems and always seemed to be running off to a new mission. This would be a good opportunity to catch up with him, once she was done saving his butt, of course.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, and out through her mouth, resting her free hand on her hip. This was classic Yoda. He wasn't allowing her a lot of time to consider it, if Anakin needed her help, then she would never be the one to keep him waiting. “Well, Kep. What do you say?”

“I guess I don't really have a choice, so…” He replied with a hint of bitterness, his eyes not meeting her gaze. This gave her a bit of pause.

“Hmm, decided then, it is.” Yoda glanced up at her knowingly. She hated when he did that, like he had some sort of trick up his sleeve in order to teach her a lesson. “If unsure you still are when you return, another master we will find for the youngling. There is no time to waste. Leave immediately, you must!”

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Brea said in unison with the boy, as they watched the ancient one shuffle down the temple hall and out of sight. There really was no arguing with him in the end, and at least for now, it seemed Brea had a padawan of her own.

—--------------------------

That was how she found herself where she was now. Her ship was roomy enough to comfortably house two people, but she had been so used to riding alone that she couldn't help but feel a sort of…weight in the Force around them. She sat arms crossed in the pilot's seat and watched the lines of blue and white light streak past through the cockpit window. There were few places as good to strike up conversation in than hyperspace.

She looked over at Kepler, who sat stiffly and silently in the co-pilot's seat, as though he was afraid to move even a muscle for some reason.

“So, this is your first time off-world, isn't it? it's exciting, huh?”

“I dunno. I feel more nauseous than anything.”

“Eh, that's normal! It'll go away after a while.” She said with a wave of her hand, a deceptively blasé gesture to hide the fact that she was actually floundering just a bit. She'd been trying to break the ice between them for a little while now, but had only managed to get similarly dry responses from him thus far. She was normally so good with younglings. When she visited the initiates when they had a break from their studies to play in the courtyards, they had lots of fun. But this one was so different. Most children raised in the Jedi Temple never see anything else until they reach padawanship, the little guy should be ecstatic right now!

But she wasn't sensing any sort of joy from him right now. Not a hint of excitement. He sat disgruntled and the slightest bit on edge like he was waiting for something terrible to happen at any moment.

“I hope you're not worried about it being your first mission, too. I promise, it won't be that ba-”

“You don't have to keep trying to talk to me, you know.” He said suddenly, cutting off her train of thought.

She quirked an eyebrow, eyeing him from the side as she idly flipped a switch here and there on the control panel to keep the hyperspace jump running smoothly. “I want to talk to you. It seems like we're gonna be spending quite some time with each other from now on, right?”

“Sure. If you say so…” He said under his breath, but just loud enough that Brea heard it over the hum of the ship's engines.

If she says so? That was more than a little concerning to say the least.

“Well, did anyone say otherwise? Come on, we're in this together now.”

He stayed quiet, retreating into himself both physically and emotionally. That wasn't good, she needed to get him to elaborate more so she could finally figure this kid out. What would her Master have done if she needed her to open up to her…?

“Well, this reminds me of my first mission as a Padawan. My Master Yora Tos was a very powerful Jedi, and she had such a kind soul. But she was also such a chatterbox. There we were, it's my first time entering hyperspace, I'm trying to focus be amazed by it and she just would not stop yammering on and on and on and on and on-”

She heard him heave a rather large sigh. Bingo.

“Alright, I'm sorry, it's just…I don't have. A very good track record with this sort of thing.”

“What, with hyperspace?”

“No, with my Masters.”

Masters…plural? It wasn't necessarily unheard of for a padawan to be reassigned once in a while. Sometimes the matchup just didn't work out for one reason or another. It seemed like what was bothering him ran a little deeper than that, though.

“How many…Masters have you had?” She pried carefully, not wanting him to clam up again. She was worried she'd made a mistake by asking when he didn't reply right away, but after a few moments and another large sigh, he did.

“Three.”

She blinked. Three previous Masters? Ok, now that actually was a little bit unheard of. Now she was starting to understand him a little bit. She only ever had one, so maybe this wasn't a matter she could relate to personally, but she felt that she could at least try to sympathize with him.

“Jeez, that's rough, buddy. Why did you drop them? You didn't like em?”

He turned away from her, leaning against the arm of the seat and resting his chin on his hand. “I didn't. They dropped me. Because I'm, well… I'm not really cut out to be a Jedi.”

Her head swiveled towards him, “Hey, don't say that! I'm sure it's not true.”

“Well, I mean? I kinda tend to fall behind, someone is always having to wait for me to catch up. My saber technique needs work. I can barely move a pebble with the Force. And on top of that I'm always getting sick.” He emphasized this with a wet-sounding sniffle and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his robe. “I'm not exactly a star pupil.”

Brea exhaled through her nose as she pondered this. All of that stuff had always come so easily to her, she couldn't imagine how frustrating it must be to struggle so much with it.

“Well, everybody has stuff they're not so good with. It just takes time. And the right guidance! Who were your previous Masters anyway?”

“Well, there was Master Tiin, and Master Koth, and I guess most recently Master Windu.”

“Whew! Well I can hardly blame you, kid.” She said raucously, “That one definitely wasn't your fault.”

He tilted his head to the side as he turned towards her, suddenly seemingly interested for the first time since they met. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, Master Windu has always been bit of a hardass.” She began, leaning back in her chair. Surprisingly enough, this got what she thought was actually a snort out of him. It was almost laughter. Not quite, but close enough. “Ha, that's probably why he's on the Council now, so I doubt much has changed since I was a youngling. His standards are so high you couldn't reach them if you were at the highest point of Cloud City.”

“Yeah…” He turned away, his expression starting to fall again.

Shoot. She dared to reach over and tried to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch ever so slightly. She retreated a bit, but suddenly it seemed like a new resolve had settled in her mind. Somehow she wasn't convinced that this kid was the problem here.

“Listen…if becoming a Jedi was easy, then everyone would do it, right? If you're here then it means you have every right to be.”

He said nothing, merely humming a noncommittal reply in return before looking ahead through the cockpit window. Her eyes turned in the same direction. The star streaks that had been shooting past them at impossible speeds suddenly slowing until they stopped entirely and returned to their natural shape as points of light in the far distance. The whole ship shook slightly as they were finally dropped out of hyperspace.

Brea sighed and rolled her neck to pop her upper vertebrae before turning her attention to the control panel, switching the ship from autopilot to manual controls again.

“Alright. Let's get down there and save Skywalker's skin!” they began their descent and soon they would be breaking the atmosphere. “In my experience, hands-on learning is way more useful than anything you can learn from silly old books anyway!”

She glanced over at him and saw how his eyes widened as he watched the planet's surface slowly approach them. His lips pulled tightly in a sort of grimace as he was no doubt imagining what sort of scene awaited the both of them there. So, he was a bit nervous about his first mission. In an ideal world, it wouldn't have been under these circumstances, but at least one thing was clear to her. She wasn't gonna let anything happen to him.

“Remember, I got your back out there, kiddo.”

He swallowed harshly and turned, throwing her a thumbs up and some semblance of an awkward smile, revealing that he had a gap between his two front teeth. Something she hadn't noticed before now.

Fear response or not, this was the first smile she'd seen from him this entire time, and as she returned her focus to the ship's steering apparatus and prepared for landing, she smiled back.

[yellowocaballero]

Omg hi Ms. Yellow Caballero big fan of your work <3 For real though, I'm really excited that your sharing the Weekenders, it was a joy to read and I'm bongocat-ing now that others also get the privilege to read it as well.

Referencing your tags, would you please elaborate of ableism in fandom and, like you said, how fandom treats characters with unpalatable disabilities?

Hi Ms. Bud Lite I'm a big fan of you <3

TL;DR A fear of writing characters of highly marginalized identities shields you from criticism and discomfort, but it's actively stigmatizing to people of these identities and as a writer you really need to get over yourself and write The Icky People.

I guess I'll come out swinging on this one and say that fandom doesn't like severe mental illness. (As a note, when I say severe mental illness (SMI) I mean illnesses such as psychotic disorders, bipolar disorder, substance use disorders, personality disorders, etc)

Obviously, nobody likes people w/SMI. It's just insanely egregious in fandom to me, since fanfic writers absolutely love writing characters or HC characters with depression, anxiety, or a specific variety of PTSD That Isn't Scary. People actively reject any character HCs for a SMI. When people write a character with SMI, they nicely downplay it, ignore it, substitute it for a disorder they like better, or rewrite it. It's completely untolerated, in both headcanons and in fanfiction, and every time I bring it up I always get the most interesting reasons why somebody couldn't possibly acknowledge a character's SMI in their writing. I've heard all of these:

"I don't know enough about the disorder to write it accurately." Do research.

"I'm not X, so I can't really depict it." You probably aren't a cis white man, but you depict those guys just fine.

"It feels insulting to the character." There is no shame in having a SMI.

"I can't understand what it's like, so it's better to be cautious and avoid giving characters stigmatized identities." There are LOTS of experiences that you'll never understand because you've never had them - you just don't want to write anything you're uncomfortable with. People with SMI make you uncomfortable, and you don't want to write anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or think of a comfort character in an uncomfortable way. SMIs are marginalized differently than solely depression/anxiety/The Nice PTSD, and by refusing to write them you're actively contributing to the stigma.

I think (?) I've spoken in the past about how I believe that the rigorous external and internal policing of writing people of marginalized identities is actively harmful towards efforts to increase diversity of experience and background in fiction. A lot of fanfiction writers are just terrified to write people who they can't directly relate with, because they're worried 'they'll get it wrong' and be Big Cancelled. I think this is negative enough when it prevents people from going outside of their comfort zone, but on a macro level I think this results in people refusing to write characters of marginalized identities as all. It's an insidious thought process, and it's reflected in people's unwillingness to diversity their writing or acknowledge canon diversity.

'Well, I don't understand what it's like to be Black, so I don't want to write Black people'. 'I want to project on this character, so I only want to write them with mental illnesses and identities I have'. 'If I write a marginalized character incorrectly people will yell at me, so I won't write a marginalized character who's marginalized differently than me at all'. Can you imagine writing a lesbian character with a boyfriend because 'you feel uncomfortable writing lesbian experiences'? It's blatantly homophobic. But people do that with disability and race/ethnicity ALL THE TIME.

People with SMI notice that you feel uncomfortable with them. It's obvious. They notice when a character has a SMI + anxiety, and you only write their anxiety. They notice when a character displays symptoms of a SMI in canon, but you write it out. And POC notice when the characters of color are written out. I know we all like to project on the blorbos and relate to them, and in the joys of your own head do whatever, but as a writer if you only stick to identities you're comfortable with you are actively being a worse writer. Which to me is the REAL sin lmfao.

[kindaasrikal]

Patiently (not) waiting for the season in Dragons Rising that explores the Departed and Cursed realms because i am hoping (praying) that Morro (MORRO) will be shown as an important ally and just as a character again.

I AM DESPERATELY WAITING WITH MY NAILS SINKING INTO FOR MORRO BECAUSE HE HAS TO SHOW UP AGAIN. HE HAS TO. I NEED TO SEE HIM.

[enden-k]

i hope some people dont forget kaveh is canonically around his 30s and haitham is younger by a few years

[trekkele]

theres something very frustrating about fics where bruce keeps reaching out and reaching out and reaching out and his kids refusing to so much as meet him partway

[sprolden]

I guess I always assumed I would get less into fandom as I got older and for the most part that has been true, I am a lot less obsessive about it than I was as a teen, but it's like. always going to be there i fear. if we're being honest I'll probably still be loading up ao3.org for a bedtime story by the time I'm 83

[3-aem]

reading im courting you now i guess by solarbishop and its so cute i love the characterization its like warm milk for my exhausted brain