#dave's life is suffering | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

david-talks-sw · 8 months ago

Text

Debunking myths in the GFFA: Luke Skywalker isn't the One True Jedi™ and doesn't "reject the Jedi teachings."

The myth:

Luke's Jedi mentors - trained to be dispassionate and mission-driven - callously tell him to let his friends die in service of a greater cause.

"In The Empire Strikes Back, Luke becomes Yoda's Padawan, and there are echoes of Anakin's training and the dilemmas he faced. Like Anakin, Luke is told he is too old to begin the training. Like Anakin, he has a vision of his loved ones suffering in captivity, and receives cold advice from Yoda, who tells him to sacrifice Han and Leia if he honors what they fight for." - Jason Fry, “Family Tradition; Rejecting the Jedi Teachings” Star Wars Insider #130, 2012

The intended narrative:

The Jedi are actually right on all points. Luke isn't ready or fully trained and he's arrogantly letting his emotions rule him and rushing into danger. By ignoring them, Luke gets himself into a spot of trouble that actually jeopardizes the lives of the very friends he tried to help, as they now need to rescue him.

“It’s pivotal that Luke doesn’t have patience. He doesn’t want to finish his training. He’s being succumbed by his emotional feelings for his friends rather than the practical feelings of “I’ve got to get this job done before I can actually save them. I can’t save them, really.” But he sort of takes the easy route, the arrogant route, the emotional but least practical route, which is to say, “I’m just going to go off and do this without thinking too much.” And the result is that he fails and doesn’t do well for Han Solo or himself.”

“Luke is making a critical mistake in his life of going after- to try to save his friends when he’s not ready. There’s a lot being taught here about patience and about waiting for the right moment to do whatever you’re going to do.”

“Luke is in the process of going into an extremely dangerous situation out of his compassion— Without the proper training, without the proper thought, without the proper foresight to figure out how he’s gonna get out of it. His impulses are right, but his methodology is wrong.”

The myth:

The Jedi want Luke to repress his feelings and kill his father, to destroy the Sith, their religious enemies. As emotionally-detached Jedi, it is inconceivable that a Sith would come back from the Dark Side, and thus wrongly believe that the only solution is to kill Vader.

"It's easy to miss that Luke disagrees sharply with his Jedi teachers about what to do. Obi-Wan and Yoda have trained Luke and push him toward a second confrontation with Vader. He is, they believe, the Jedi weapon that will destroy both Vader and the Emperor. When Luke insists there is still good in Vader, Obi-Wan retorts that "he's more machine than man-twisted and evil." When Luke says he can't kill his own father, Obi-Wan despairs, "Then the Emperor has already won." But Obi-Wan could not be more wrong. It is precisely because Luke can't kill his own father that he defeats the Sith." - Jason Fry, Star Wars Insider #130, 2012

The intended narrative:

The Jedi never tell Luke to "kill" his father. That's just a fact.

They tell him to "confront" and "face" him.

Their bottom line is that Vader and the Emperor need to be stopped.

If Luke can manage to do so without killing his father, that's great.

"In Jedi the film is really about the redemption of this fallen angel. Ben is the fitting good angel, and Vader is the bad angel who started off good. All these years Ben has been waiting for Luke to come of age so that he can become a Jedi and redeem his father. That's what Ben has been doing, but you don't know this in the first film." - Star Wars: The Annotated Screenplays, 1998

(credit to @writerbuddha for finding the above quote)

The problem is: Darth Vader has a track record of murdering loved ones who refuse to kill him. Be it his wife...

... his father/brother...

... and if you're going by Canon, his little sister.

As such, there's a very strong chance that Vader might do the same to his son as well.

“A Jedi can’t kill for the sake of killing. The mission isn’t for Luke to go out and kill his father and get rid of him. The issue is, if he confronts his father again, he may, in defending himself, have to kill him, because his father will try to kill him.” - 1981 story conference, from The Making of Return of the Jedi

Now, as the last Jedi left, the fate of the galaxy rests entirely on Luke's shoulders.

If he dies, then the galaxy and its billions of inhabitants are doomed to live in a tyrannical dictatorship forever.

“He knows a confrontation is brewing between Luke and his father. Ben hopes Luke will either save his father or kill him, because whatever extra powers Luke's got in his lineage, he is the one person that can probably fight his father and win.” - The Star Wars Archives: 1977-1983, 2018

There's a time for talking things through... and a time to do your duty. Above all else, a Jedi's duty is to end conflict.

Obi-Wan was once tasked with this same duty.

And while he managed to weaken Vader considerably (thus avoiding the catastrophe of a full-powered Vader being unleashed onto the galaxy)... because of his attachment, he failed to kill Vader.

Twice, if you include the Kenobi show.

(A show which, per Pablo Hidalgo, is one of George Lucas' favorite recent Star Wars projects, a tidbit that doesn't surprise me one bit considering how much the series perfectly aligns with what Lucas said about Star Wars (see here, here and here))

Point being: because Ben failed his duty, the galaxy suffered for it.

Luke is now in danger of doing the same.

If he's unable to end the conflict in a peaceful way, then Luke needs to be ready to do so in a more permanent manner. Because while Luke has qualms about killing his father, there's a very big chance that the feeling won't be mutual.

So Luke isn't rejecting his teachers' orders to kill Vader. He's saying he's unable to confront Vader altogether, because he'll be half-assing the task. In the (very likely) worst case scenario where reasoning with Vader fails, Luke is concerned he won't be able to follow-through and do what he must.

Further, there's also a worse outcome to Luke dying: Luke joining the Dark Side and becoming yet another asset of the Emperor, more dangerous than Vader himself.

It's thus essential that Luke steel himself and mask his emotions, because the Emperor is a master manipulator who'll likely attempt to corrupt Luke via the strong emotions he has for his friends.

Obi-Wan is not telling Luke to repress his emotions. On the contrary, he acknowledges that these feelings do Luke credit. But the fact remains that when your opponent can jiu-jitsu those feelings against you and your friends, you need to keep a poker face.

And judging by how close the Sith Lords come to seducing Luke to the Dark Side...

... that advice is completely on point.

The myth:

"It isn't Jedi teachings that save the galaxy, but bonds the Jedi tried to forbid - such as the love of a father for his son, and a son for his father. Emotional attachments, in other words." - Jason Fry, Star Wars Insider #130, 2012

The intended narrative:

In Return of the Jedi, Luke isn't doing anything different than what other Jedi have done.

He does his best to avoid lethal force unless he deems that it is necessary (see his fight against Jabba's hostile forces).

He sacrifices himself for the greater good and let himself be captured, in order to allow the mission to be carried out.

He tries to reason with his enemy, hoping to avoid conflict.

He spares his enemy, showing mercy.

That's all standard Jedi stuff. We've seen other Jedi do all those things, both in the films and The Clone Wars.

If that isn't enough, just look at how Lucas describes what Jedi normally do (left), versus what Luke does in Return of the Jedi (right):

See what I mean? There’s pretty much no difference.

In Lucas' narrative, Luke isn’t “better than” or “rejecting the teachings” of the Jedi who came before him. He’s following the Jedi path. And he's really good at doing so.

Because this idea that Luke "rejects the teachings" makes no sense! They're Lucas' teachings. He agrees with the Jedi, they're the mouthpieces he uses to deliver the audience his own values.

Lucas having his main character do something he'd ideologically disagree with is something that doesn't make sense.

And part of this confusion comes from a misunderstanding of the word "attachment", in Star Wars.

It doesn't mean "emotional attachments" or "feelings" or "affection." It comes from the Buddhist principle of non-attachment.

It's not about depriving yourself of relationships or affection, it's about accepting that everything comes and goes and letting go of those very things you hold on to, when the time comes.

Lucas makes a distinction in his discourse between attachment and compassion.

"The whole idea of the movie, ultimately is that you have the Light Side and the Dark Side. The Light Side is compassion, which means you care about other people. The Dark Side is you care only about yourself. And you are obsessed with yourself. Getting your pleasure and getting all your stuff. The other one, you give it to everybody. You give goodness and health to everybody else. So the issue of love... there’s a line between loving somebody compassionately and caring about them and helping them. But the other line is not to be greedy or... once you are greedy then you get fearful. You don’t want to lose what it is you have that you are getting. So you have to learn to give up everything. And ultimately for a Jedi Knight, it’s very easy to give up." - Celebration V, Main Event, 2010

In-universe, this is something Anakin knew the theory of, but never really applied all that much.

Luke on the other hand, was able to learn the lesson and apply it.

Speaking in Lucas lingo, it's not Luke's attachment that makes him spare Vader. It's his compassion. And in turn, that compassion inspires Vader to do the same.

"It really has to do with learning. Children teach you compassion. They teach you to love unconditionally. Anakin can’t be redeemed for all the pain and suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t right the wrongs, but he stops the horror. The end of the Saga is simply Anakin saying, ‘I care about this person, regardless of what it means to me. I will throw away everything that I have, everything that I have grown to love - primarily the Emperor - and throw away my life, to save this person. And I’m doing this because he has faith in me, loves me despite all the horrible things I’ve done. I broke his mother’s heart, but he still cares about me, and I can’t let that die.’" - The Making of Revenge of The Sith; page 221

Or, to put things more simply:

Attachment (selfish love), is what makes Anakin do this:

Compassion (selfless love), is what makes Luke do this:

Now, could Lucas have made his narrative more explicit, to avoid confusion? Maybe.

But I think it's also fair to point the finger at the biggest cause of these muddied waters:

Simply put, the Expanded Universe (the Star Wars books, novels and games that spun out of the films) established new lore elements that didn't necessarily align with Lucas' vision of things. Namely:

Jedi can get married, and Luke marries Mara Jade.

Jedi can begin their training as adults, and Luke takes on many apprentices that are already adults.

When considering George's minimal involvement in the development of EU stories, it's easy to see why these plot points were allowed to come through.

But when he made the Prequels, his headcanons came to light and the above plot points needed to be retconned.

George Lucas' narrative:

"Nope. You can't be a Jedi and be married."

This isn't actually coming out of left field.

When Timothy Zahn asked for Luke and Mara to be married or engaged, back in 1993, Lucasfilm initially vetoed the idea.

And over the years, Lucas and other Lucasfilm employees have made it it clear that "Luke getting married" did not align with his vision (so much so that it's a plot point in Attack of the Clones).

So the question becomes: why can't Jedi get married?

It's about commitment.

Simply put: you can't have two marriages. Eventually, your commitment to one of them will falter and you'll ruin them both. A Jedi is already married to the cause and to the Order.

If they want to get married, they have to leave the Jedi.

"One of the things [the Jedi] give up is marriage. They can still love people. But they can’t possess them. They can’t own them. They can’t demand that they do things. They have to be able to accept the fact, one, their mortality, that they are going to die. And not worry about it. That the loved ones they have, everything they love is going to die and they can’t do anything about it. I mean they can protect them as you would ordinarily protect, you know, ‘Get out of the way of that car.’ Somebody charges you with a gun, you knock the gun out, but there is an inevitability to life which is death and you have to accept that." - Celebration V, Main Event, 2010

And this is another example, really, of how Lucas' own values and past experiences shape the Jedi's teachings.

Marcia Lucas divorced George because he was constantly working on Star Wars, even when he wasn't directing it, which she said led to an emotional blockage in their marriage...

... and this leads us to the reason why George didn't double-down on the success of the Original Trilogy: he decided to take time off to raise his three kids as a single Dad.

He learned his lesson, reasoned that he wouldn't be able to be both a good, present father and a successful blockbuster film director.

When you're dealing with time-consuming commitments of this scale, you need to make a choice, or you'll end up (half-assing and thus ruining) both of them.

"Nope. Jedi get taken in as babies for a reason."

Once again, this has to do with Lucas' definition of "attachment."

"Jedi Knights get taken from their families very young. They do not grow attachments, because attachment is a path to the Dark Side. You can love people, but you can't want to possess them. They're not yours. Accept that they have a fate. Even those you love most are going to die. You can't do anything about that. Protect them with your lightsaber, but if they die they were going to die. There's nothing you can do. All you can do is accept that fact. In mythology, if you go to Hades to get them back, you're not doing it for them, you're doing it for yourself. You're doing it because you don't want to give them up. You're afraid to be without them. The key to the Dark Side is fear. You must be clean of fear, and fear of loss is the greatest fear. If you're set up for fear of loss, you will do anything to keep that loss from happening, and you're going to end up in the Dark Side. That's the basic premise of Star Wars and the Jedi, and how it works. That's why they're taken at a young age to be trained. They cannot get themselves killed trying to save their best buddy when it's a hopeless exercise." - The Star Wars Archives: 1977-1983, 2018

Jedi need to maintain objectivity and neutrality, in their day-to-day lives of mediating peace between planets.

And learning to "let go of your attachments when the time comes" is part of that training. But it is something that takes discipline and time, and thus the child needs to be young enough to develop this skill. Otherwise, they end up like Anakin, who always struggled to properly learn it and eventually was doomed by his greed.

This being part of Lucas narrative is also evidenced that in his earlier plans for the Sequel trilogy, he'd have Luke train children, not adults like he does in the EU.

"Luke is trying to restart the Jedi. He puts the word out, so out of 100,000 Jedi, maybe 50 or 100 are left. The Jedi have to grow again from scratch, so Luke has to find two- and three-year-olds, and train them. It’ll be 20 years before you have a new generation of Jedi." The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

The EU's retcons of Lucas' narrative:

Now, obviously, the addition of all these rules and other elements such as midi-chlorians... it does something to the older audience. They grew up on the Original Trilogy, dreaming they could be a Jedi too if they just believed enough. Now that bubble is burst.

"Wait, if I'm a Jedi I can't get married?! And I need to be taken in as a toddler, with a certain kind of blood score?! That's bullshit!"

More importantly... it goes against about a decade's worth of established EU lore (which Lucas never factored into his storytelling)!

So what does Lucasfilm Licensing do? They go with it.

They take these "weird" rules the older audience and authors don't like, and retcon a new narrative around them to ensure both the books and the new films all stay canon within the EU own continuity.

George Lucas revealed new information about his universe in Episode II that ran counter to earlier stories of the Expanded Universe. Among the surprises: the Jedi Order is monastic, with love and marriage forbidden to its members. This would necessitate reforms to the Jedi Code over time to separate the ancient era when Nomi Sunrider was married to a Jedi, seen in the Tales of the Jedi (1993–94) comics, as well as the post-Empire era when Luke Skywalker married Mara Jade in the comic series Union (1999–2000). LucasBooks also needed to create plausible exceptions for Ki-Adi-Mundi, a Jedi Master who had multiple wives in the Prelude to Rebellion comics (1999). - Pablo Hidalgo, The Essential Reader’s Companion, 2012

When it comes to Luke specifically, the narrative becomes:

"Uh... y-yes. The old Jedi Order forbid marriage, only took in toddlers and had a blood pre-requisite... which was weird, wrong, too detached, too systemic, and part of why their Order failed! But, uh, Luke's New Jedi Order allows marriage, unlike his dogmatic predecessors, because anyone can be a Jedi guys!" Hahaha! (fuck's sake George)

But as already explained above: those new rules aren't meant to be perceived negatively. It would make no sense if they were, they're based on Lucas' own values.

You know what it does do, though?

It cements the narrative that Luke is the One True Jedi™, who rejected the dogmatic teachings to forge a new path forward.

That's not the intended narrative of the Original Trilogy, nor the six-film saga as a whole.

If you've made it this far in the post (congratulations) and are interested to read another all-encompassing post about that, you can check out the link below :)

783 notes · View notes

pedgito · 2 months ago

Text

february is over and i can feel the seasonal depression leaving my body as we speak, i was a little lacking on reading this month being so busy irl, but i still have so many goodies on this list. i'd also like to add that some lovely mutuals are spreading much needed love to our BIPOC writers, so if you have any recs that you'd like to give some extra attention to you can check out these posts linked below (& feel free send them to my inbox too! i'm always looking for more fics to read!) x — x also, i've said this a few times in the past but i do have a tracked tagged #useralii and that isn't just for gifs (so if you have fics or edit that you'd like to tag me in, please feel free!)

this key will help you figure out which fics are more your vibe, or if you’re just curious of the contents before you dive in:

smut = 🌶️, fluff = ☁️ angst = ☄️

total fics listed below: 21

✎ — 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

↝ prisonic fairytale by @kedsandtubesocks — 🌶️, ☄️

You’re looking for someone… what you find here in the fog instead has you staring into the abyss - and you discover it stares back (& wears the face of someone terrifyingly handsome)

↝ what remains of a man by @jolapeno — 🌶️, ☄️ (AO3)

Joel Miller doesn't care. Not about Pretty Eyes. Not how she feels beside him. Not when she's under him. Not when she's hurt and she doesn't come to him. Not. At. All.

↝ just this once by @punkshort — 🌶️

After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better.

↝ trashed by @gutsby — 🌶️

You fuck Joel in his filthy double-wide.

↝ see you at three (series - ongoing) by @/almostfoxglove — 🌶️, ☄️, ☁️

When your sister starts working nights, you're stuck with afterschool pickup duty for your eight-year-old niece. You love the kid, so you don't mind. And, sure—maybe you don't mind having an excuse to check out her classmate's dad, Joel, five times a week, either.

↝ the fuck it list (series — ongoing) by @auteurdelabre — 🌶️, ☄️, ☁️

During work at your father’s construction company, you’re inspired by your sexually liberated bestie to create a F*ck-It List of sexy experiences you’ve always wanted to try. But when the list accidentally ends up in the hands of Joel Miller— your dad’s best friend, the company’s co-CEO, and your immediate supervisor—things take an unexpected turn. Initially shocked by the discovery, Joel eventually agrees to help you tackle the list, leading to sexual adventures and undeniable chemistry. However as you begin to fall for Joel the complications of your relationship come into focus, leading you both to realize that love may be one item you won’t be able to check off your list.

✎ — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀

↝ visitation by @gothcsz — 🌶️

Javier visits you in prison after putting you in there.

✎ — 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒

↝ guilty as sin (series — in progress) by @ovaryacted — 🌶️, ☄️

Being the daughter of a Senator of Rome has it's pros and cons, you lived comfortably while constantly being reminded of your insubordinate position in society. However, upon meeting General Acacius, your life changes as you begin to grow fond of him. The question is, will he reciprocate your feelings, or cast you out to suffer your impending doom of unwanted courtship?

✎ — 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

↝ golden kisses by @mrsmando — 🌶️

Newly single, Dave finds comfort in life’s simple pleasures; among other things.

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

↝ the mirage of a goodbye by @sawymredfox — ☄️

Forgiveness and healing are heavy words. They come with a price, one that may be life-changing tonight.

✎ — 𝐄𝐙𝐑𝐀 (𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓)

↝ wash & hold by @ak-vintage — 🌶️, ☁️

After discovering some unfamiliar clothes in your laundry (and losing some of your own in return), you begin exchanging messages with another resident in your apartment complex.

✎ — 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋

↝ of death and butterflies by @galway-girlatwork — ☄️

Everyone’s heard the stories of Lilith. Of how she came to be. But are the stories true? Is she really a demon or something else? She was not born of angels but created by Death himself. To walk between the land of the living and dead. But what happens when The Fates intervene and present her soulmate? Countless lives and re-incarnations have been lived and lost. Will Oberyn remember before another life slips between their fingers like sand?

✎ — 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓 (𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒)

↝ leverage by @/ovaryacted — 🌶️

Clint kidnaps you and takes you on a crime filled cross country roadtrip where you slowly start to fall in love with him.

✎ — 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒

↝ sounds dangerous by @almostfoxglove — ☄️

When you reply to a bizarre craigslist ad, a stranger on the other side of the country charms his way into your life.

↝ the prettiest (series — in progress) by @/almostfoxglove — 🌶️

After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in. Now he'll do anything it takes to have you.

✎ — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒

↝ double lovin' (+ dieter bravo) by @iamasaddie — 🌶️

You doomed yourself to spend Valentine's day alone, buried in blankets and sobbing over Bridgit Jones' love story, but a surprise visit from Lucien and his friend turns your plans to waste.

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐎

↝ cowboy like me by @chaotic-mystery — ☄️, ☁️

Dieter is terrible at accents for his new cowboy role, and an even more terrible neighbor.

✎ — 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

↝ cherry stems by @gracieheartspedro — 🌶️

Eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. So you use them to your advantage. Piss Eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. Maybe.

↝ eat your heart out by @eiightysixbaby — 🌶️

In which Eddie masters Valentine’s Day through the art of eating pussy.

↝ make me feel (+ gareth emerson) by @/gracieheartspedro — 🌶️

You fly out to reunite with your rockstar boyfriend Eddie Munson. After a long day, you decide to return to his bed on the tour bus, but it seems like it is already occupied by his bandmate, Gareth.

↝ the hat rule by @ghost-proofbaby — 🌶️

When eddie dresses up as a cowboy to a night out with friends, you decide to steal his hat.

likes, reblogs, and comments keep the motivation alive, so if you’re taking a look at these for the first time, please leave a kind word for these writers or just reblog, even. support your writers <3

#joel miller x reader #javier peña x reader #din djarin x reader #clint freaky tales #eddie munson x reader #marcus acacius x reader #max phillips x reader #dieter bravo x reader #oberyn martell x reader #ezra prospect #monthlyrec

190 notes · View notes

bladekindeyewear · 22 days ago

Note

Why are all of John's friends trying to gaslight him constantly? He was proven right about Candy and yet they all still treat him like he's nuts. Especially Jade.

But John ISN'T right. The Candy timeline being a "funhouse reflection" doesn't justify his proposed assertions and actions. I went into deep detail about that in my liveblog post, person by person. Just about all of the adults are wrong in important ways (besides Karkat), and are proving themselves wrong in that very conversation-- but John is the MOST wrong, the furthest from the point of this story, the most obviously suffering from his shortcomings as a person.

You get the sense you may have missed something.

This line, as everyone is standing over him, isn't just a joke about what's going on behind them all... as I covered in my liveblog post, it's a key statement about the core mistake John is making. About how ever since he arrived on Earth C, he's been looking for "true meaning" everywhere outside himself when it has to come from within.

ROXY: john did you listen to a single fucking thing i said to you JOHN: yes! JOHN: like, okay, you were right. JOHN: this place IS real.

In their argument in this update, Roxy and John alluded to their home conversation toward the end of the Candy Epilogues, when John was trying to insist that everyone's actions made no sense and that this timeline didn't mean anything... and Roxy dismantled his assertions. That just because the Candy Timeline was so strange and intentionally read at first like poor fanfiction -- likely because it was born from CALLIOPE'S fanfiction, the Meat version of Callie wearing the Ring of Life who is constantly said both in the Epilogues and Homestuck^2 to have been drawing events on her walls that sound suspiciously like the events of Candy -- that doesn't mean the Candy story, that a noncanon fanfic, isn't real or doesn't matter. Just because some of the events seemed absurd from John's point of view, OUR point of view, didn't mean they didn't have underlying reasons... right down to Yiffy's name as we discovered in this update from Karkat's insight that Jade was naming and treating Yiffany like the child she imagined she'd have had with Dave without his involvement. Just because it's not the "original author's" method of characterization doesn't mean that fan characterizations hold no worth, that fan stories hold no value.

John is right that all the former heroes in the Candy Timeline (besides maybe Karkat) have made a great many HORRIBLE decisions, giving in to their insecurities and neuroses and past trauma. But his solution is to ditch all the consequences of their "fanfic" story, consign it to the trash bin, and instead pursue "relevance" as if a new adventure, as if something more "Canon", would would be best for everyone... mainly himself. That allowing fanfics to be real, or making a difference in their own world despite their flaws, is "too much freedom".

JADE: john... this is what i mean. JADE: you have no idea what it is you actually want, do you? JADE: being happy to you is just chasing after whatever it is you dont already have. JADE: and we know how that always turns out. JOHN: what does THAT mean? JADE: it means, john, that you're going to drag harry along on this big awful adventure and then, itll end! JADE: and even assuming it ends well, he might get what, one good year with you? JADE: maybe two? JADE: until you get bored and angry and avoidant all over

JADE: john... JADE: you cant actually believe everything will be fine if we just leave, right? JADE: no matter where you go, john, youre still going to be... this. JADE: i wish saving you WAS as easy as snapping our fingers and going off on some other adventure, JADE: but well never be 13 again. JADE: and... looking at you in that old outfit makes me nauseous. JADE: you were right, a lot of the time i dont like it here, and i DEFINITELY dont like whats happened to us. JADE: but its our own fault, and now its all we have left to work with.

Jade proved herself one of the "craziest" ones here in this update, with us seeing the real reason she chose a name as absurd and offhand-Dave-Strider-joke-like as Yiffany Longstocking, and in particular with the way she wants to CONTROL her child to live the life she THINKS is best for her from Jade's own experience, living a "normal" life vicariously through her, rather than letting Yiffy live the life she actually WANTS to live. She deserved Yiffy's final, parting "FUCK YOU!".

But the point she's making about John here is TRUE, and is even more important.

John has been constantly defining his self-worth by adventures outside himself, listless and depressed and UNCOMFORTABLE in his own being, thinking that happiness and fulfillment and satisfaction is something he has to go out and find on some sort of story quest. His time in Sburb was the only time the world around him was doing the heavy lifting of convincing him that he had meaning. But he was never comfortable JUST BEING HIMSELF. Never confident in BELIEVING in himself, by himself. Quests and chasing goals given to him were only ever temporary patches over his own insecurity, his feelings of wrongness in the very act of existing as the person he is.

"no matter where you go, john, youre still going to be... this."

"You get the sense you may have missed something."

John is so wrong, so horribly inconsiderate to everyone in this update, so insistent on the next dose of adventure even if it means consigning the entire timeline to the trash bin, because he is MISSING the key thing that would actually make him really, truly happy. Confident, fulfilled. Satisfied enough to live for OTHERS, like his child, more than just for himself.

Which is why the update ALSO gave him a GLIMPSE of what he was missing, what he needs to find INSIDE himself -- not outside -- in order to love himself.

And what he needs to find inside himself... is HER.

June Egbert would love herself enough to start truly living for herself and others. To believe in herself enough to show herself off so confidently in the stage's spotlight, to know she's a Hero beyond her prior inner doubts. The dead version of John in the Meat timeline seems likely to become her first, but the lesson is the same. John keeps trying to look for a way to "escape" his problems, causing all sorts of issues and insensitivity because he can't escape himself, and this is the true key to the self-acceptance he's been avoiding.

That's been the slow, steady, Andrew-blessed drumbeat that's been building in the background ever since the beginning of the Epilogues. It wasn't just a Toblerone wish, that was only the final excuse. Andrew had been talking obsessively with others about this repressed-transfem interpretation of John throughout Homestuck ever since fans brought up the idea before the Epilogues, before the Toblerone, and HS^2 and Beyond Canon's writers (and the Epilogue's cowriters) have all been standing with Andrew on this idea. The fact that Candy was so "weird" and non-canon was never what was actually making John "miserable" for so long. He's still projecting blame for his unhappiness onto that idea instead of seeing the truer way to be herself. It's been hinted at and reiterated throughout the new stories, and confirmed by its authors:

That's just the biggest key to JUNE'S issues, though, not everyone else's. From now on, all the heroes who were left behind in Candy -- possibly with help from those in the Meat Timeline who believe in them -- WILL SAVE the Candy Timeline from dissolving into the ether.

ROXY: john... i know things didnt work out the way you thought they would but we cant just up and fuck off???? ROXY: i feel it in my gut, we can save this place, we have to!

Together, they WILL prove the overarching theme that our drive to create fanon and fanfics and fan characters, that the wild and disagreeing interpretations on what could happen next (or what could have happened) that live on after the story in the reader's hearts, that the versions of these CHARACTERS that live on in our hearts, matter just as much or more as the grip of plot relevance and "canon" by a tyrannical author. That being trapped in a "story" necessarily tortures them for the sake of dramatic impact and that the characters deserve to be freed from its clutches. The overall message of the original "Homestuck" -- it's in the very NAME -- was that the heroes had to ESCAPE THE STORY to find true happiness instead of simply winning by its rules, by a tyrannical storycrafter like Lord English's rules. Homestuck's original ending was too strangely executed to spell out that lesson for most people. Homestuck's sequel is making that message EXPLICIT so none of us who stick around will miss it.

And Beyond Canon has been REALLY good at convincing me that they're going to pull that lesson off RIGHT. :D

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck^2 #upd8 #spoiler #spoilers #John Egbert #June Egbert #Jade Harley #Roxy Lalonde #Beyond Canon #Andrew Hussie #James Roach #Kim Quach

168 notes · View notes

broadway-karkat · 4 days ago

Text

HAPPY 4/13!!! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A GOOD WHILE NOW. AS YOU KNOW, I SPEAK ALTERNIAN, NOT HUMANESE, SO IT'S HARD FOR ME TO RAP. BUT I DID MY FUCKING BEST FOR YOU CURSED CREATURES. AS ALWAYS, YOU ARE FUCKING WELCOME.

YES THIS IS A STRIDER DISS. IT STARTED AS A TROLL DRAKE DISS BUT THEN... I DON'T KNOW, IT WENT TOO HARD FOR JUST THAT.

(Modkat stepping in to say this is NOT directed at any Dave voice-actors/singers, in fact I checked with some Dave voiceactors around the Tumblr-O-Sphere and they were cool with it. I've just been hyperfixated on this song ever since the superbowl halftime show and decided to have some fun with it! Kendrick Lamar thank you for my life)

ART BY KENNYKENBEE, LYRICS BY ME BELOW THE CUT

Psst, I see dead people (Sollux on the beat, yo)

Ayy, Sollux on the beat, yo Spit out some bars to my homie, it’s a free throw Man down, call an ambulance, tell him: Breathe, bro Got him to his quest bed now he walk around like Bozo

What's up with these greyless people tryna see Alternia? The humans can hate me, fuck 'em all and they lusus How many opps you really got? I mean, it's too many options I'ma fuck you up so bad, wish you weren’t adopted Beat your ass and hide the Texts if Sufferer’s watchin'

Sometimes you gotta pop out and show humans Certified god, I'm the one that up the score with 'em Walk him down, whole time I know he got some bite in him Jump on him, extort shit, bully, Death Row on him

Say, Dave, I hear you so ironic You better pray that condition’s not chronic To any bitch that talk to him and they in love Just make sure you ready for the heartbreak

They tell me John the only one that get your hand-me-downs And Rose at the party playin' with her drinks now And Jade got a weird tail, why is she around? Certified human gods? Certified fuckass clowns

Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, KK, fuck 'em up Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, I'ma do my stuff Why y’all whinin' like a bitch? Ain't you tired? Tryna strike a chord and it's probably uninspired

They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us

You think we gon' let you disrespect the trolls, fucker? I think that planet is gon' be your last stop, fucker Did friends foul, I don't know why you still pretendin' What is the owl? Oh fuck it’s Davesprite, shit alright, go

The readers not dumb Shape the stories how you want, hey, Dave, they're not slow Rabbit hole is still deep, I can go further, I promise Ain’t that somethin’? Get your apple juice and go cry to your brother

Ain't no lie, boy, fetch red Faygo or somethin' Since 2010 I had this bitch jumpin' The trolls be all excited, just cheering for my victory Isn’t all just contradictory? Don’t even need to try. Fuckass

Striders up in the medium Might dial this more than a burn, tell the fake god quit hidin' Fuck a caption, want action, no accident and I'm hands-on, he fuck around, get polished

Killed yourself on a loop, now that's connivin' Then act all innocent without even apologizin' I’m sad for all the Daves, doomed by the main Strider From Alternia down to Earth, I’m sure y’all turn on deciders

And your boy need his ass beat, that ”cool kid” move in flocks Those names gotta be registered and placed on planetary watch I lean on you trolls for another hit on vibes Yeah, it's all eyes on me and I’mma follow all them guides, ayy

Put the wrong label on me, I'ma get 'em dropped, ayy Bway KK playin’ and I won't pass the aux, ayy How many fucks do I really have in stock? Ayy One, two, three, four, five, plus five, ayy

Scratching is a lie, he a wannabe God, ayy Freaky-ass humans need to stay they ass inside, ayy Kick they ass up like it’s me and my pride, ayy Alternia’s back up, it's a must, we outside, ayy

They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us

Once upon a time, most of us was in chains Then the human doubled down callin' us some slaves Alternia had pailbots bringing all the pains Bear with me for a second, let me put y'all on aim

The humans was usin' trollfolk to cheat the game Did this on sneak and then was highly acclaimed You run to Alternia when you need a check balance Let me break it down for you, this the real troll challenge

You called Terezi when you didn't sniff the club (ayy, what?) Gamzee helped you get your lingo up (what?) Eridan gave you false hive cred Nep made you feel like a troll in your head (ayy, what?)

Vriska said you are from the outside (what?) Aradia say you good, but she lied You run to Alternia when you need a few boondollars No, you not a colleague, you a fuckin' colonizer

Troll players matter and the truth of the matter It was Sufferer’s plan to show y'all the liar

Mmm Mmm He a fan, he a fan, he a fan (mmm) He a fan, he a fan, he a

Freaky-ass human, he a wannabe God Freaky-ass human, he a wannabe God Hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life Hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life

Let me hear you say: KNIGHT OF BLOOD (knight of blood) Say: Knight of Blood (knight of blood) Now step this way, step that way Then step this way, step that way

Are you my friend? Are we locked in? Then step this way, step that way Then step this way, step that way

#broadway karkat #homestuck #413 #karkat vantas #broadwaystuck #karkat sings #karkat raps...?

72 notes · View notes

starscelly · 2 months ago

Text

AFTER HE HAS SUFFERED, HE WILL SEE THE LIGHT OF LIFE AND BE SATISFIED

text: isaiah 53:7-13 photos: 1: icon sportswire, getty images // icon sportswire, getty images // dave sandford, getty images // chicago tribune, getty images 2: ronald martinez, getty images // icon sportswire, getty images // glenn james, getty images // ronald martinez, getty images // len redkoles, getty images 3: zak krill, getty images 4: ethan miller, getty images 5: steph chambers, getty images // screenshots from dal@sea 05.07.23 6: jeff bottari, getty images // steve warne, yahoo sports // screenshots from dal@vgk 01.28.25 // screenshots from nyr@dal 12.20.24 7: screenshot from dal@vgk 01.28.25 // sportsday staff, dallas morning news // puckpedia, stone transactions 8: michael martin, getty images // bill wippert, getty images 9: jeff bottari, getty images 10: ethan miller, getty images // ethan miller, getty images // jeff bottari, getty images // zak krill, getty images

#SACRIFICIAL LAMB ELECTRIC BOOGALOO LETS RUN IT !!!#i love Citing the Bible #an ode to miro's injured ass..... i miss her so bad and im so mad about it all the time #also sourced and alt texted so hard my brain fell out of my head . hope we appreciate!#miro heiskanen #dallas stars #cel weaving webs #injury tw #did i cite bible correctly . who knows

136 notes · View notes

hoe4hotchner · 7 months ago

Text

With blood on his hands | [A.H]

Pairing: UnSub!Hotch x gn!reader CW: Dark. This story contains descriptions of graphic violence, murder, mental illness, grief, and emotional distress. Dark themes, betrayal, loss of control, and fear, kidnapping, physical aggression, helplessness. WC: 5.2k

Please don't request a part 2 unless you have a very specific idea, my brain physically couldn't come up with more plot for this.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Bearing signs of life throughout the whole layout of the building, yet the disturbing truth of what had happened made you uneasy.

It was the same scene they’d encountered twice already - an all-American family, slaughtered in their home, with no apparent struggle, no clear motive. A mother, a father, and their young son, all lying lifeless, their blood staining the carpets, their lives ruthlessly cut short.

You stood beside Rossi, your hands clad in gloves, and a frown etched upon your face as you surveyed the scene. The scent of blood and suffering hung heavy in the air, choking your senses. You had seen your fair share of horrors, but this was different. This unsub was different.

"Third one this week," Rossi murmured beside you, his voice gruff with exhaustion and irritation, feeling the weight of the case starting to take its toll. "We need to catch this guy before he strikes again."

You nodded, eyes scanning the room as your mind worked through the details. This unsub wasn’t just killing; he was destroying. The brutality of the murders suggested rage - deep and personal rage. There was a familiarity to the way everything was laid out that you couldn't put a finger on.

You stepped over to the nightstand, where the mother’s jewelry lay scattered. Your eyes caught a golden ring, glinting in the light. You reached for it instinctively, feeling a strange pull toward the piece of metal. It was simple but familiar, in a way that made your stomach churn with suspicion.

Frowning, you held it up to the light, inspecting it. That’s when it hit you like a punch to the gut.

You knew this ring.

Your blood ran cold as memories flooded your mind. Years of working alongside him, watching him fiddle with that exact band on long nights at the office, lost in thought as he processed information and clues. You had seen it on his finger countless times.

Hotch.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a dizzying sense of disbelief washing over you. There was no way. No possible way. You told yourself it was a mistake, that the stress of the case was playing tricks on your mind.

But the more you stared at the ring, the more your instincts screamed at you.

You weren't wrong about this.

You swallowed hard, slipping the ring back onto the dresser. Rossi hadn’t noticed your reaction, he was busy analyzing the scene with his usual calm efficiency. You forced yourself to stay composed, your mind racing.

The families. The pattern. A mother, a father, and a young son. Haley and Jack. It was so obvious.

It all clicked into place with horrifying clarity. Hotch's stressor… the deaths of his family. You remembered the way he had shut down after losing them, how the grief had changed him. But never in your worst nightmares could you have imagined this. This was not the man you knew.

You took a shaky breath, your mind spinning. You couldn’t tell Rossi - not yet - he wouldn't believe you. Wouldn't believe that his oldest friend was capable of this. Not until you were sure. Not until you’d seen Aaron, looked him in the eyes, and confronted him yourself. You owed him that much.

"Dave," you said, forcing your voice to stay steady, "I’m going to head out. I need to check something."

He glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. "You okay? You look pale."

"I’m fine," you lied, offering a weak smile. "Just need to follow up on a hunch."

Rossi nodded, distracted by something on the floor, and you took the opportunity to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. You could barely keep your hands from trembling as you made your way out of the house and into your car. Thankfully you had arrived separately.

The drive to Aaron’s old house felt like a blur, your mind spinning with possibilities. Every part of you hoped you were wrong. That this was all some horrible mistake, that there was no way the man you had worked with for years could be behind these murders, that this was truly just some twisted dream, and that you'd wake up soon.

But deep down, you knew.

This was reality.

When you pulled up to Aaron’s house, the pit in your stomach deepened. His car was in the driveway, the lights inside the house dim and all the curtains closed. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm. You had to confront him. You had to know the truth.

You walked up to the door, every step feeling like a death sentence. When you knocked, there was a long pause. Then the door creaked open, revealing Aaron, standing in the doorway. He looked disheveled, his eyes dark and sunken, the weight of grief and something darker pressing down on him.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice low and rough. "What are you doing here?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You stared at him, your heart racing as you noticed the subtle signs - the tension in his posture, the way his hands flexed at his sides. And most of all, the unmistakable wedding band missing from his finger.

"I…" you began, your voice trembling. "I need to talk to you."

Aaron’s eyes flickered, something unreadable passing behind them. He stepped aside, letting you in without a word. You walked into the house, the air thick with tension, your nerves screaming at you to turn around and leave, to get out while you still had the chance. But you couldn’t. Not now.

As you stepped further into the room, your eyes landed on something that made your stomach drop - on the kitchen counter, barely noticeable, was a small streak of blood. Fresh blood.

Aaron closed the door behind you, the sound echoing ominously through the quiet house.

"You shouldn’t have come here," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, the realization crashing down on you with terrifying certainty. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t just your old colleague. He wasn’t just the man that had been your boss. He was the unsub you were looking for. He was the monster you’d been chasing.

And now, you were alone with him.

Hotch stood over the lifeless body sprawled across the floor in his living room, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his knuckles bruised and bloody. The man beneath him had been dead for several minutes now, his face a mangled mess of flesh and bone, barely recognizable.

Hotch’s fists clenched and unclenched, the blood dripping from his fingers painting the carpet with small, crimson pools. His heart was pounding, not from fear or guilt, but from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. He should have felt something - regret, remorse, shame—but there was only emptiness. Nothingness. And rage.

The rage never left him. It simmered beneath the surface, a constant presence, threatening to consume him whole. After Haley and Jack, everything had spiraled. Their deaths had shattered the last bit of humanity he had clung to. He had tried, God knows he had tried, to be the man everyone needed. The leader. The protector. But after them, something inside him had broken, irreparably so.

At first, he had managed to keep it hidden. But over time, the mask had slipped, the cracks becoming impossible to cover. The anger had grown, festering like a disease, until it had taken over every part of him. It was easier this way. Easier to stop pretending to be the good guy, the man who saved lives, when all he wanted to do was destroy them.

Besides the way he had hurt Foyet had felt so good.

He turned his head, his gaze cold and calculating, as a knock landed on the door.

The scent of sweat hung thick in the air, and the room was suffocating with the tension of your predicament.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock, taking in the scene before you. The man on the ground, the blood, the violence. And Hotch. Not a single drop could be seen on his clothes. Only his hands bore signs of the crime. Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. You were frozen, paralyzed by the realization of what you were seeing. What he had done.

Hotch stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. The look on your face - the fear, the disbelief - only fueled the fire inside him. For a moment, there was silence, an unbearable tension hanging between the two of you.

Then, he spoke. His voice was low, a growl barely restrained by the thin thread of control he had left within him.

“You really shouldn’t have come here.” He repeated his previous statement

You blinked, finally finding your voice. “Aaron... what have you done? This isn't you.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something unrecognizable. He took a step toward you, the cold gleam in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. “I did what needed to be done.”

You could barely breathe, your mind racing as you tried to process what had happened. This wasn’t the man you knew. The man you had worked with for years, the man you had trusted. The man you had secretly loved. He terrified you now. This was someone else entirely - a predator, who was cold and unfeeling.

“Aaron, please...” Your voice shook as you took a step back, instinctively retreating from the danger that loomed before you. “You don’t have to do this.”

His eyes flashed with anger, and in an instant, he was on you, his hand gripping your arm with a force that made you wince. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell me what I have to do. You don't know anything”

You swallowed hard, trying to remain calm despite the fear coursing through you. “This isn’t you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re not a killer.”

His grip tightened, and you gasped, pain shooting through you as you felt him slightly twisting your arm. “Aren’t I?” His voice was sharp and dangerous. “Do you know what it feels like, to lose everything? Watching them die? Knowing you couldn’t stop it? Knowing that you weren't fast enough?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away from him, but his hold was unrelenting. “Aaron, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “This won’t bring them back. What Foyet did was terrible.”

For a moment, you thought you saw something - some flicker of humanity cross his face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cold indifference. He released you, shoving you back roughly. You stumbled, catching yourself against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.

Hotch stood there, his eyes burning with fury, his hands still stained with blood. “Don't tell me what's right or wrong. They’re gone and nothing can bring them back,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice void of emotion. “There’s nothing left for me but this.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “There’s more to you than this. You’re better than this, Aaron. I know you are.”

He laughed, a bitter, cruel sound that sent chills down your spine. “Better? Better for who? For you? For the bureau didn't trust me to be in the field after what happened?” His eyes bore into yours, and you could feel the hatred radiating off him. “Do you really think you know me? The man I am now?”

You didn’t answer, too afraid of what he might do next. His rage was palpable, an almost physical force that seemed to fill the room, choking you with its intensity.

He moved toward you again, his eyes wild, his movements erratic. “You think you can save me? Is that it? You always had a savior complex, just like Morgan.” He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You can’t save me. No one can.”

You trembled under his touch, your heart thrashing in your chest, trying to claw its way out as his fingers dug into your skin. For a moment, you thought he might hurt you, that you might face the same predicament as the lifeless body in his living room. That he might go too far. But then, just as quickly as the anger had flared, it seemed to dissipate, leaving only emptiness in its wake.

He released you, stepping back, his breathing heavy and uneven. His hands shook as he wiped them on his pants, the blood smearing across the fabric. He looked at you, something dark and broken in his eyes. “You should leave,” he said, his voice hollow as he turned his back to you.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Aaron—”

“Go.” His voice was cold, final. There was no room for argument.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the part of you that wanted to stay, to help him, and the part that knew he was too far gone. Finally, with a heavy heart, you turned and walked toward the door, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

As you reached the doorway, you turned back to look at him one last time. He was standing in the center of the room, staring down at his blood-stained hands, his expression unreadable.

“Aaron,” you whispered, a single tear rolling down your cheek, and your voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

But he didn’t look back. He didn’t say a word. And as you stepped out into the night, the door closing behind you with a soft click, you knew that the man you had once known was gone.

The door had barely closed behind you when Hotch’s mind snapped back into a cold calculation. He could still feel the sting of your words in the air, your plea for him to stop. You should leave, he’d told you. But now, as silence wrapped around him, a horrifying realization dawned - you knew of him.

Who else knew?

You were the only one who had seen him like this, who knew what he had done. The team… They would never believe it on their own. Not until you told them, he was sure of that. But what evidence did you have to back up your claim?

His pulse quickened. His anger, momentarily soothed by the violence he'd unleashed, flared again. He couldn’t let you leave. He wouldn’t.

He moved quickly, his body still humming with adrenaline. You had made it to the end of the driveway when you heard him behind you. His footsteps were heavy and purposeful. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Aaron?" you called over your shoulder, your voice trembling. But there was no response, only the oppressive sound of his approaching footsteps. Fear gripped you.

Before you could take another step, he was on you. His strong hand wrapped around your wrist like a vice, yanking you back toward him with brutal force. You gasped, struggling against his hold, but it was no use. His grip was unyielding, his expression dark and twisted as he dragged you back into the house, thankful that he and Haley had bought a house in a secluded area.

"You thought you could just walk away?" His voice was low, a deadly whisper, sending a chill down your spine. "That you could leave me and run straight to the team? Tell them about what I've been doing?"

You blinked, fear coursing through you as you tried to speak. "No, Aaron, I—"

"Don’t lie to me!" he snarled, his face inches from yours. "I see it in your eyes. You were going to tell them. Weren’t you?"

Terror constricted your throat. You wanted to scream, to plead with him, but the words wouldn’t come. His anger was suffocating, his eyes filled with a malice you’d never seen before.

"I can’t let you do that," he said, his voice eerily calm now, the storm of his fury momentarily quieted by cold calculation. "You’ll ruin everything. This—" He gestured to the leftover blood still staining his hands. "This is who I am now. And you’re not going to stop me."

Without warning, he yanked you roughly into the storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him. The darkness swallowed you both whole. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance, but Hotch was determined. His large frame loomed over you, his hand still gripping your wrist with bruising force.

"Please, Aaron, you don’t have to do this," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to reason with him. Tried to pull yourself out of his grip.

But his expression was unreadable now, lost in the darkness. His fingers tightened around your wrist, and you winced in pain. A high-pitched whimper left your throat as the pain coursed through every single nerve in your body.

"I do." His voice was cold, devoid of the empathy and warmth you once knew in him. "You’re the only one who knows as far as I can tell. And if I let you walk out of here, it’s over for me."

Your breath hitched, panic rising in your chest. "Aaron, I won’t tell anyone," you pleaded, desperation leaking into your voice. "I swear, I—"

"I told you don’t lie to me," he hissed, cutting you off with a deadly glare. "I can’t trust you. Not anymore."

The air was thick with tension, the weight of his gaze suffocating. You could barely make out the features of his face as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, but you could feel the cold determination, it was unmistakable. He had made up his mind. There was no reasoning with him, no turning back.

Hotch fumbled with something on the wall and soon enough the overhead light bulb flickered on, the dim light barely bright enough to light up his features. Before you could react, Hotch pulled a length of duct tape from a nearby shelf, yanking it free with a sharp sound. Your heart raced, and you instinctively tried to back away, but he was faster. With a cruel efficiency, he shoved you up against the wall, pressing his body against yours to keep you in place.

“Stop fighting me,” he growled, his breath hot on your neck.

You struggled, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but it was no use. He was stronger, and his anger gave him a terrifying, unnatural strength. The tape wound around your wrists, biting into your skin as he bound you tightly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized there was no escape.

When he was finished, he stepped back, watching you with an unnerving calm. Your heart pounded in your chest, panic threatening to overtake you.

"What are you going to do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Hotch tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he considered you. “I’m going to make sure you can’t destroy everything.” His voice was cold, emotionless. “I’ve lost too much already. I won’t lose control again.”

Without warning, he grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder with brutal force. You screamed, but the sound was muffled by the closet walls. His grip on you was like iron as he carried you out of the building, and into the garage where his car waited patiently.

You thrashed against him, panic clawing at your throat. But it didn’t matter. His mind was made up, and his body moved with the cold precision of a man who had crossed the line of no return, a man who wasn’t coming back.

He tossed you into the trunk of his SUV, the metal cold against your back as he slammed the hatch shut, trapping you inside. The darkness closed in around you, and all you could hear was the sound of your own panicked breathing and the engine roaring as Hotch turned the car on.

You were trapped.

The engine screeched as Hotch drove with grim determination, the rain streaking the windshield of his SUV. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white at the force of his grip. You still lay in the cramped trunk, the tape burning the skin on your wrists as you struggled to free yourself. Hotch had made a stop after about an hour on the road on the road to gag your screams, he was tired of hearing your begs and pleas for mercy. You lay helpless as the vehicle bumped along the dark, slick road. Every movement jostled your body, sending sharp pains through your limbs, but the terror coursing through you dulled the physical discomfort.

The man behind the wheel was someone you thought you knew. But this version of Hotch was a stranger.

His phone buzzed on the dashboard, but he ignored it. You could barely make out the faint sounds through the barrier between you, but you knew it had to be the team. They had to realize by now. But the phone in your pocket still clutched tightly against your side despite the restraints, was your only lifeline. Garcia could trace it if you managed to answer it the next time they tried your number. The team would find you, you were sure of it.

But Hotch already knew that. And he wasn’t going to let it happen.

Your heart raced as the SUV took a sharp turn, causing your body to slide slightly across the floor of the trunk. The storm outside was intensifying, and you could feel your anxiety building in the way he drove — focused and determined. He had a plan.

The car slowed, the rhythmic thud of the rain against the roof of the trunk filling the silence. He pulled off the main road, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Your pulse quickened as the vehicle came to a stop.

A car door slammed shut, and you heard his heavy footsteps approaching. The trunk popped open, letting in the cool, rain-soaked air. Hotch loomed over you, his face set in a harsh, emotionless mask. Without a word, he reached down, his grip bruising as he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the trunk. You stumbled onto the muddy ground, barely able to keep your balance.

His fingers moved deftly, reaching into your pocket and yanking out your phone. His lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes flashing with twisted amusement.

“You thought the team would save you,” he grinned in a low almost scary voice. “You thought Garcia would trace this… pathetic.” He held up your phone. A flash of lightning struck down in the distance behind him.

Before you could react, he dropped the phone on the ground and crushed it under his heel before throwing it into the lake you had stopped near. You barely heard it splash into water over the sound of the pounding rain. Hotch calmly walked over to a large rock, grabbing it with both hands. You watched in horror as he smashed his own phone repeatedly, reducing it to a mess of shattered glass and plastic.

Your only connection to the outside world was now gone.

Hotch turned back to you, his face illuminated by the brief flashes of lightning. His expression was as cold and unfeeling as the storm around you, but there was something darker in his eyes — a satisfaction in watching your hope slip away.

“You always were smart,” he murmured, stepping closer, towering over you. “Too smart for your own good.”

Without another word, he shoved you back into the trunk, his strength leaving no room for resistance. You were thrown back into the small, confined space. The rain and the outside world disappeared, leaving you in pitch-black darkness once again.

The car started again, the engine rumbling as Hotch continued driving. You were no longer sure where you were, feeling like he potentially had driven you in circles to throw you off track, and that uncertainty gnawed at you. There was no doubt in your mind that Hotch had planned this meticulously. He had been covering his tracks, eliminating threats, and now he was eliminating your ability to interfere.

The drive felt endless, the sound of rain against the roof your only marker of time passing. You tried to shift, to loosen the restraints on your wrists, but every movement sent sharp pain through your limbs. The car’s motion made you nauseous, the fear and discomfort blending into a haze.

Eventually, the car slowed again. You felt the shift in the vehicle as it came to a stop. The air was suffocating, your breath quickening in panic as you heard the sound of the driver’s door opening for the third time and then the distant crunch of dried leaves under Hotch’s footsteps. Where had he taken you?

The trunk opened again, and Hotch’s silhouette was backlit by the faintest glimmer of moonlight filtering through the storm clouds looming above. His face was unreadable, but there was no regret, no hesitation in his actions. He reached in and grabbed you roughly by the arm as he pulled you from the trunk once more.

You were in the middle of nowhere - an abandoned building ahead, its windows dark and some of them were even shattered.

The perfect place for someone to disappear.

“We’re going inside,” Hotch growled, his voice harsh and barren of the warmth it once held.

Your legs buckled beneath you, no strength left to carry your body, but Hotch didn’t care. He hauled you toward the entrance of the building with ease, his grip bruising on your bicep as he pulled you through the door. The interior was pitch black, the only sound was your rapid, panicked breaths and the distant rumble of thunder as the last of the storm was passing you.

He led you through the building, the air biting at your skin. You could feel the hatred radiating from him - the complete absence of the man you once knew. He stopped in the center of a large, empty room, turning to face you with a dark, predatory gaze.

“You should’ve stayed out of it,” he hissed, his voice low and dripping with venom. “But you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to know.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he reached out, his fingers gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, cold and merciless.

“You’ll wish you hadn’t.”

The BAU team gathered in their conference room, the air filled with a heavy silence. The flickering lights of the monitors and the scattered case files did little to lighten the grim atmosphere. The latest string of killings had left them all feeling drained and frustrated. They knew the pattern - the targeted families of three - but the connection was proving elusive.

Reid, hunched over his paper files, spoke up. “The pattern is consistent. Every victim family has been targeted in a specific order: the father is always the first to go, followed by the mother, and then the child. We’re missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Why does the unsub want the sons to watch their parents get murdered?”

Morgan, pacing back and forth, nodded grimly. “We’ve checked financial records, phone records, and even personal connections, but nothing’s coming up. It’s like the unsub is just a ghost.” He listed, counting with his fingers as he mentioned each thing.

Rossi, reviewing photos from the crime scenes, frowned in concentration. “There’s something we’re not seeing. Maybe we need to look at the details of each scene once again, this time more closely. There’s got to be a common thread.”

Garcia was furiously typing away, her eyes darting between various screens. She was usually the one bringing good news or revelations, but this time her face was a mask of worry. “I’ve cross-referenced all known data, and I’m still coming up empty. It’s like the unsub is erasing every trace of himself.”

Penelope’s words were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a new piece of evidence popping up on her screen. The team watched in quiet concern as she displayed a series of images on the large television screen behind them. The new evidence came from a tech at the latest crime scene.

“Look at this,” Garcia said, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed to a photo of a golden wedding ring lying on a dresser. “I’ve run the image through our database. It’s not just any ring. It’s a unique design only a handful made in total, and I found a match.”

The room fell silent as the team examined the image. Reid’s eyes widened as he recognized the significance too. “That ring… it’s a distinct piece. I’ve seen it before.”

Rossi’s gaze shifted from the photo to Garcia. “You’re saying this ring could be linked to someone we know?”

Garcia nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I cross-referenced it with our records, and it matches the description of a ring worn by someone in our team.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw the name displayed on her laptop.

The realization hit like a thunderclap. The team exchanged worried glances, their earlier frustration giving way to a new kind of dread. Rossi’s face darkened as he leaned in closer.

Garcia nodded again, her expression serious as she confirmed the words Rossi had been about to ask. “The ring belongs to Hotch.”

The room erupted into chaos. Morgan’s eyes widened in shock, and Reid’s expression was one of horror. “No way,” Morgan said, his voice filled with disbelief. “Hotch? He’s one of the most dedicated agents we’ve ever worked with.”

“Is there any chance it could be a coincidence?” Rossi asked, his voice tight with concern. "That it's one of the other owners of similar rings?"

Garcia shook her head, her face pale. “I don’t think so, they've all been spotted across the country and have rock-solid alibis. The design is too specific. And if Hotch is involved, we need to find him before it’s too late.”

Reid began to piece together the information, his mind racing. “If Hotch is connected to the unsub, then it’s possible that he’s been orchestrating these murders from within. We need to act fast.”

The team sprang into action, their earlier determination now transformed into urgency. Rossi and Morgan began to gather additional evidence and check Hotch’s recent whereabouts. Reid and Garcia worked on tracking Hotch’s phone, hoping to pinpoint his location.

As the team raced against time, their focus sharpened on finding Hotch and uncovering the truth behind his involvement in the killings. Each agent’s heart pounded with the realization that someone they trusted might be the very monster they were hunting. But they were not ready to admit it just yet.

Meanwhile, the darkness within Hotch continued to grow, his plans advancing while the team desperately tried to uncover the truth.

The next move was crucial - finding Hotch could be the piece they were missing.

196 notes · View notes

yaoirotic · 3 months ago

Text

Strilondes (or more specifically just Dave and Rose), a second gen immigrant reading.

Firstly, it’s important to note that Bro & Mom don’t hate their kids. I feel that getting this is pretty integral to getting them and getting their relationship with their children. They both are good intentioned albeit going about raising their children in bad ways. A lot of this comes from the isolation they felt arriving on earth and growing up without any guardians of their own, attempting to project traditionally western societal ideas. For Bro, it was full of violent, macho masculinity. For Mom, it was the busy house-keeping housewife.

Dave’s story of having traditional masculinity being imposed upon him by Bro is very comparable to how second gen immigrant kids experience masculinity and tough love. Bro was trying to toughen up Dave for the world albeit using violent methods that are comparable to how normalized it is to use corporal and physical methods of “discipline” as a means for punishing their children. Bro doesn’t hate him, but like some second gen immigrant parents his methods of raising Dave are extremely misguided and harmful. How he comes to terms with realizing that he did suffer from abuse is a lot more relatable when you look at him from a non-white perspective. He grew up in a household where this tough love mentality was idealized, and as a result he never really considered how bad his situation truly was until he was able to get out of it and realized him being given such extreme measures of “toughening” didn’t really help him at all in the long run.

As for Rose, her mother wanted to give her the childhood she would’ve wanted as a kid. Lots of lavish objects, giving her ponies and wizards while still inflicting child neglect on her in an alcoholic stupor. Even Mom’s tea set and extravagant bedroom imply a yearning to relive living a more lavish and feminine upbringing. It’s possible to interpret this from a transfemme perspective, and I think that’s right too. I don’t think they’re necessarily mutually exclusive by any means.

Rose’s reaction to her mother’s alcoholism and neglect is a lot more interesting from the reading of her being a second gen immigrant. She feels guilty for hating her mother in spite of her bad upbringing, for the lack of a relationship they ever really had. It’s similar to how a lot of second gen kids may feel guilt for having less than positive feelings on their parents due to them not necessarily trying to hurt them and being well intentioned, but still having faced abuse regardless. There’s an all too familiar sentiment amongst ethnic that regardless of how awful a family member may be, they’re still your family and you should be obligated to try and keep a connection or relationship with them, and reading Rose as a second gen immigrant you could very well see that she has a pretty bad case of this.

Hussie, whether intentionally or not (likely not if we’re being honest), wrote a pretty solid depiction of how children from ethnic backgrounds may realize and deal with their abusive upbringing, and I think reading it as such makes for a pretty intriguing read of their characters. In a way, Bro and Mom wanted to raise their children better than them. Bro wanted to harden Dave up for the world and raise him to an idealistic and reasonably unattainable level of masculinity. Mom wanted to give Rose a life of luxurious femininity and gifts, but in turn failed to meet her emotional needs. I feel that when you look at it from the perspective of a second gen immigrant (speaking from experience here) it’s a lot easier to sympathize with and understand their struggles and relationship with their parents. It’s a good, different depiction of abuse that breaks out of the mold of “abusive parents purely hate their children.” Because not all abuse comes from a place of hate for your children.

#homestuck #homestuck meta #rose lalonde #dave strider #strilondes #bro strider #mom lalonde #this is like my first time writing serious meta please be kind to me #id also like to hear some other thoughts about it!!#spideythoughts

163 notes · View notes

directdogman · 9 months ago

Note

(Sorry if I have bad English, I'm from Spain.)

I'm super hyperfixated on the original managers, so I have 2 questions.

1. In Dialtown, Tango/Terrence says no one called him Tango before. Assuming that in the DSaF universe he also liked that nickname, did any of the other original managers call him Tango or not?

2. A headcanon I've seen in the DSaF fandom is that Abel hated everyone BUT the real Scott Cawthon, and that Scott was the only one that tolerated Abel (some ppl even ship them). Is that close to canon? Or the og Scott Cawthon also hated Abel? I really want to know what they thought about each other.

Btw, I really love your games, I've played the DSaF trilogy many times, and the Dialtown demo (I haven't played the full version of Dialtown yet, but I've seen gameplays and I'll buy it for my birthday), thank you for making 4 incredible games <3

I don't answer many DSaF questions these days, but this one's interesting so here goes:

1)Tango's nickname is a DT invention as far as I remember. If he preferred the name in DSaF's universe, Harry would've used it for sure, given how much he liked Terrence and since he's literally using a name he doesn't believe is really 'his' because it makes him feel better. He of all people would understand.

2)Yeah, that's a pretty good way of stating it, but there's a little more nuance to it that explains a little bit more about Abel/Joe's rift.

Basically, the original Scott Cawthon was a unifying figure. He got on with every single one of the original managers and they all thought the world of him. The Phone Guy process was started in an attempt to recreate him by Abel (and the other managers at first) and you gotta consider why they'd all want to do that. He was the glue that held the group together, the only manager liked by everyone else there without exception, someone who could defuse tension and resolve conflicts amicably.

It's true that he had the most patience for Abel and never badmouthed Abel to the other managers and even defended him earnestly, knowing Abel the best of the other managers and knowing some of Abel's early life and where he came from, while the others were more willing to honestly discuss Abel's short fuse and occasionally mean nature (even Terrence to some extent!) This led Abel to develop more of a bond with him than the other managers and somewhat distrust the others.

While Abel was essentially Scott's number 2, as time went on, Joe became more and more integral to the running of their budding company, since he was a skilled accountant and managed to balance the books despite Scott's somewhat reckless spending at times (he was overgenerous to the point where it sometimes led to financial trouble for the company, a stark contrast to what Freddy's became later.) Since Joe was so blunt (and Abel's biggest critic), Abel was incredibly jealous and insecure that if the trend continued, Joe would supplant him.

This also explains why Abel was so willing to toss his other managers into the 'machine' when each of them suffered accidents. Ultimately, it wasn't just sheer cowardice, it was him trying to recreate the past - to recreate the one person who seemingly saw him as anything other than a vampire. Someone who actually wanted him around. Of course, no two snowflakes are ever exactly the same. Abel was a poor replacement as the owner of the company, Joe was barely able to keep things afloat amidst a messy and chaotic expansion and Harry wound up presiding over the company's demise.

There's a pretty widespread narrative theme in DSaF of damaged people trying to recreate something they've lost - Dave trying to turn Jack into the new Henry, Jake and his family, Harry and his former identity, the Kennedy family reuniting.

“Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course you can!”

But, the fact is, you can't recreate the past. The only way forward is to pick up the pieces and build something new.

155 notes · View notes

spr1ngbunnypvrin · 19 days ago

Text

To be honest, I don't see any content about TFC William x reader and yes... that crusty musty mf sitting on that fucking mobile wheelchair, it's not a young ver of him or Dave Miller duh.

I'm thinking of a scenario like this... you are in another universe where William is not like this (your au I supposed), and somehow you got stuck here, facing his decayed version, something you are not really ready for.

So imagine:

You weren’t supposed to be here.

One moment, you had been in your own universe, where William Afton was… well, normal. Or at least, not this. Not a ruined man confined to a motorized wheelchair, his body scarred and broken beyond recognition.

And yet, here you were—staring at him.

His silver-gray eyes locked onto yours, narrowing in sharp suspicion. He was older, more gaunt, his once-proud posture replaced with something brittle, something beaten down but still refusing to break.

But you—your breath hitched as you took in the deep scars tracing his face, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against the armrests of his chair. His body, once confident and commanding, was now a patchwork of pain and survival.

“What the hell happened to you?” The words left your lips before you could stop them, raw with disbelief.

William’s expression flickered—something dark and unreadable passed over his face. Then, he scoffed. “That’s the first thing you say to me?” His voice was rougher, hoarser than you remembered.

You swallowed. “I—this isn’t right. You’re not—”

“Not what you expected?” He tilted his head, amusement curling at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint, love. Life’s got a funny way of tearing things apart.”

You didn’t know what had happened to him. Not yet. But you were going to find out.

And if there was any part of your William still left in him… then you weren’t going to leave him like this.

You sat across from him in what could barely be called a living room, still processing everything. The low hum of his motorized wheelchair was the only sound for a moment before he spoke again.

“So? What now?” His voice was quieter this time, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with you.

Before you could answer, a metallic clank echoed from the hallway.

“Father, you should be resting,” Circus Baby’s voice rang out—sweet yet artificial, her glowing eyes narrowing slightly as she approached.

You stared at her, your stomach twisting. You knew what she was, what she housed inside. And judging by the way she looked at William, the way she hovered protectively at his side, it was obvious—Elizabeth was still in there.

William exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. “I am resting, Elizabeth. Just having a conversation.”

Circus Baby—no, Elizabeth—turned to you. “You’re an anomaly,” she stated flatly, tilting her head. “Someone who shouldn’t be here. But you are here.”

You clenched your fists. “Yeah, well… not like I planned it.” Your gaze drifted back to William, softer now despite the overwhelming confusion in your chest. “And I’m not leaving him like this.”

Elizabeth studied you, then turned to William. “…You trust them?”

For a moment, William didn’t answer. His scarred fingers tapped against the wheelchair’s armrest. Then, finally, he let out a slow, quiet chuckle.

“They’re mine,” he said simply, with a ghost of something you couldn’t quite place in his voice.

You swallowed. Whatever had happened to him in this universe, whatever had broken him, it didn’t matter.

Because you were here now. And you weren’t going anywhere.

You might not be able to fix everything, might not be able to undo the suffering he's been through—but in the end, that’s not what matters.

What matters is that you’re here. That someone is here, not out of obligation, not out of pity, but because they choose to be. Because you choose to love him, even in his broken state.

And maybe… that’s enough.

Maybe, when the nights are quiet and the weight of the past threatens to swallow him whole, your presence is the only thing tethering him to something real.

Maybe, even if he never says it out loud, the way his fingers linger against yours, the way he sighs just a little softer when you’re near, is his way of saying:

"I don’t deserve this… but I don’t want to lose it either."

And you? You’ll stay. Even if it hurts. Because love, real love, isn’t about saving someone.

Sometimes, it’s just about being there.

- One side of Headcanons/ Rambling -

How Did William End Up Like This?

In this universe, William did survive everything—the failures and the betrayals—but at a terrible cost.

After The Fourth Closet events, he somehow escaped, but his body was permanently wrecked. Burned tissue, nerve damage, shattered bones barely held together by medical intervention (and maybe some less-than-ethical self-experimentation).

He’s in a motorized wheelchair because his legs are almost completely useless—he can move them slightly, but walking is agonizing and impossible without support.

Most of his body is covered in scars, and his once-proud, confident posture is gone, replaced with a man who survived but barely.

He’s hiding out somewhere in the shadows, living a ghost-like existence with Elizabeth/Circus Baby as his only real companion.

How Did You Get Stuck Here?

In your original universe, William never ended up like this. Maybe he was still his usual self—still cunning, still dangerous, still whole.

But somehow, you ended up here. A glitch in reality? A cruel joke from the universe? A botched experiment William was running in this world? Who knows.

The first thing you see when you arrive is him—older, broken, and sitting in that damn wheelchair with scars across his face, looking at you like he’s seeing a ghost.

And your first reaction? "What the hell happened to you?!"

How Does It Develop?

Shock & Denial

You’re horrified. This isn’t your William. The William you know isn’t… like this. He reacts with sarcasm and bitterness. “What, not the handsome devil you remember?” You have to sit down and process because what the actual hell happened to him?

Understanding the Truth

Slowly, you piece together what happened. The pain, the survival, the loss. You realize that despite everything, this William is still him. Maybe rougher. Maybe more haunted. But still William.

William's Walls Start to Crack

He pretends not to care that you’re here. Says it doesn’t change anything. But the way he watches you so intently says otherwise. He doesn’t let people touch him anymore. Not since the injuries. But you? When you brush your fingers against his hand, he doesn’t pull away.

Elizabeth is… Protective?

Circus Baby (Elizabeth) is wary of you at first. She’s seen her father break too many times. She won’t let you be the reason he falls apart again. But when she sees how gentle you are with him, how you don’t pity him but understand him, she softens. She starts seeing you as an ally rather than an enemy.

Something Like Love, Something Like Healing

William’s still a sharp-tongued bastard, but when he lets his guard down around you, there’s something softer. You help him with small things—adjusting his blanket when he pretends not to be cold, bringing him tea when his hands are too unsteady. And one night, when he’s exhausted, hurting, and letting himself be vulnerable, you sit beside him and whisper, "I don't care what happened. You're still you." His breath catches. He doesn’t say anything. But for the first time in years, he lets himself lean into someone else’s warmth.

Where Does It Go From Here?

Maybe you do find a way back to your world… but do you really want to leave him like this?

Maybe you try to fix things—to get him help, to find a way to make his life better.

Or maybe… you both just learn to live in this broken world together. Because even if everything else is shattered, you still have each other.

39 notes · View notes