#don't these assholes realize

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[delta-piscium]

I wrote this in September and it’s been collecting dust in my docs and staring back at me with judgement whenever I post or write something else so here 

“Steve” a familiar voice shouts across the room.

Steve turns around, and there, on the other side of the crowded room is Tommy. It really shouldn’t be as big of a shock to see him as it is. Steve is at a house party on a Friday night, it would have been weirder if Tommy wasn’t here. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to see him, they basically haven’t talked in three years, ever since Steve ‘chose’ Nancy over him and Carol (aka finally dropped them because they were horrible and didn’t drop Nancy because she isn’t). 

Still, he plasters on a smile, making it as polite as he can, and waves. Hopes it will be enough but of course, it isn’t. Tommy starts weaving through people, pushing and elbowing his way toward Steve.

“Its been ages,” he says clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “how have you been man.”

Steve resists the urge to shrug his hand off, but it’s a close thing. 

“It has.” Steve doesn’t add ‘because you’re an asshole and I hate who I am around you’ and he feels very mature for it. “I’m good.” He very deliberately does not ask Tommy how he’s been. 

“Me too, me too.” He responds anyways, at least he finally removes his hand from Steve’s shoulder which makes him relax marginally. “Still dating Nancy?” 

And, okay yeah, he and Tommy haven’t really spoken since he and Nancy were still together but Hawkins is a small town and he’s sure Tommy knows that Nancy had both broken up with Steve, gone on to date Jonathan for two years, and recently broken up with him as well. Actually, he thinks he remembers a shower conversation with Billy just days after she dumped him and went off to Murray with Jonathan, a conversation that Tommy was also present for.

“No, we broke up years ago.” He dutifully replies anyways, because what else can he say? 

“Yeah, heard she dumped you?” 

Steve is gonna remain calm, play along in whatever game Tommy is playing, and not react. 

“She did,” he agrees easily.

“And got with Jonathan right after? Should have listened to us and stayed away.” He grins as he speaks, grins as if Steve is gonna agree with him. 

“We’re still friends,” Steve shrugs, letting the fall of Tommy’s smile bring one to his own lips.

“Was for the best that we broke up, we’re much better as friends.” 

Tommy squints a bit, his hackles raising and Steve only notices because he once knew him so well. Why he’s still getting defensive talking about Nancy Steve doesn’t know.

“Oh Stevie, you still hung up on her huh?” 

It’s deliberate, he’s trying to press Steve’s buttons. ‘Well, tough Tommy-boy.’ Steve thinks, ‘those ones don’t work anymore, have been defunct for ages. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want a reaction.’ 

“Nah,” he says, lets his smile be a bit more genuine when he continues, “she’s great but I’m dating someone else.” 

“Rebound?” Tommy whistles, “she hot?” 

Why Tommy is convinced Steve is still pining after Nancy he can’t say, or maybe it’s the only angle he has on Steve nowadays? Except they basically lived in each other's pockets all through high school and if Tommy really wants to get under Steve’s skin there are other things, better things. Things he has used against Steve before and seen the effect of. Why he isn’t he using them now when he clearly has some agenda Steve can’t say.

Steve is about to respond, has his mouth open and ready to speak when someone calls his name again. Thankfully this time the source is a lot more pleasant. 

Tommy turns around to see who it is, completely exposing his back to Steve. It’s probably the last few years of fighting hell monsters that has ingrained a distrust in Steve. Making him hyper-aware of his surroundings and never willing to leave his back open like this to people he doesn’t trust. He knows this but still, he thinks there should be some primal instinct in Tommy to stop him from making himself so vulnerable to Steve, the action speaks of leftover trust that Steve isn’t ready to face. 

“Munson? You know Munson?” He turns back around, an incredulous look on his face.

It snaps Steve out of his thoughts and reminds him Eddie had called for him. He leans to the side, stretching out so he’s visible behind Tommy, catching Eddie’s eye and waving him over.

“I do, yeah.”

Tommy’s face twists into something Steve can’t immediately place. He recognizes it, knows he’s seen Tommy make that face before. It’s not disgust or confusion but maybe something in between? Before he can figure it out it clears.

“Oh, King Steve getting drugs? Who would have thought?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, the only reason he had stopped smoking weed for a while in high school was because athletes got tested. Why Tommy is pretending Steve ever had some moral issue with it now is beyond him but not much of this interaction has made sense to him so far so what’s one more thing?

“What Steve doing drugs? He’s a very responsible young man and would never” Eddie says, twisting past the last couple of people.

“Right Stevie? You wouldn’t touch the stuff?” Eddie–knowing very well that Steve would in fact ‘touch the stuff’–asks. 

“Not with a ten-foot pole.” Steve–who smoked yesterday–deadpans. 

“Knew I could trust in you to stay a good boy.” Eddie coos as he steps into Steve's space and kisses him despite where they are. It’s quick enough that no one who isn’t watching would catch it though and the only one who is watching is Tommy. When Steve looks back at him his face slack with shock. 

“Hagan,” Eddie says with a short nod. 

“You-?” Tommy looks between them, that same look as before flashing on his face, still just out of Steve’s grasp.

Steve contemplates what he should do for a second but Tommy already saw them kiss, already knows. And honestly, Steve doesn’t really care what he thinks and he knows Tommy won't say anything. Steve has too much dirt on him.

“Oh sorry, Tommy this is my boyfriend.” His voice is deceptively sweet as he introduces Eddie as if that’s what Tommy had been getting at.

Steve turns to Eddie, “baby, you know who Tommy is right?” 

He’s laying it on thick, asks despite Eddie greeting him by name two seconds ago. Knows others' unabashed confidence and being on the outside are things Tommy can’t handle.

“I think so,” Eddie plays along, “you were friends once right? Before you found better people?” 

It’s mean but Steve wouldn't have thought too much of it if it weren’t for the wounded noise Tommy makes. When Steve looks at him again his face is cracked open and it finally clicks what that expression is.

“Aw, you jealous?” Eddie says in a mocking tone, hitting the nail on the head because that’s exactly what that expression is, jealousy. 

It’s the same look he had whenever Steve told him about a new girl, the look he’d have when Steve started bringing Nancy around. It’s deeper though, not only jealousy. He also looks like he did when Steve told him and Carol to leave him alone. He doesn’t just look jealous, Tommy looks heartbroken. 

He tries to pull it together, scrunching his nose up in disdain, and scowls at them. Quickly looks away from Steve when their eyes catch and his mask falls a bit, instead focusing on Eddie who raises one eyebrow in response. 

“Hardly,” he scoffs, it comes out strained, “I would love to stay and chat but-” 

He doesn’t elaborate, just turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.

Steve is frozen to the spot, a war going on in his head. Puzzle pieces he didn’t know were missing falling into place.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and starts pulling him outside, away from the party. He gets them in his car and doesn’t try to speak to Steve, probably sensing he’s having some earth-shattering realizations right now. 

“He liked me,” he finally manages to say. “That’s why he hated Nancy so much. He was...” he trails off, knows it’s true but can’t quite say it.

“Jealous,” Eddie finishes softly.

“You knew?” Steve asks because Eddie doesn’t sound or look surprised at all.

He shrugs, “I had my suspicions.”

“But how-”

“We looked at you the same,” his smile is wry, self-deprecating, “I recognized it.”

And Steve can’t really process this right now even though he knows it’s true so he grasps at straws, “Carol, he was with Carol?”

Eddie reaches out one arm and cups his face in his hand, glances at him quickly before he looks back at the road with a sad smile.

“If you’re in love with your best friend, your male best friend who you believe is straight, you do what you need to do to push it down, to hide it. Especially in high school and in a small town.”

“In love?” Steve rasps because he’d said ‘like’.

“Yeah, sweetheart. In love.”

Eddie brushes his fingers under Steve’s eye and he realizes it’s because he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know why I'm reacting like this.” 

And it’s true, he really doesn’t understand why it feels like a big hole has opened in him. He never liked Tommy, not like that, yet it feels like he’s lost something, fucked something up.

“He used to be your best friend, it’s a big thing to realize.” Eddie parks outside of his trailer, turns to Steve making no move to get out of the car. “Kind of changes everything, or at least puts it in a new context, explains some things.”

Steve feels the blood drain from his face because he’s suddenly remembered something and oh god does it put it in a new fucking context.

“Baby?” Eddie asks when Steve sits frozen again.

“We used to get wasted and make out,” he whispers the words, shame coursing through his veins.

Eddie goes still and Steve rushes the explain.

“Not often and not after he got with Carol, just,” he takes a shallow breath, “It happened a few times. We’d steal my dad's whiskey and get so beyond drunk and, well, kiss a lot.” 

He’d smile at the memory if he wasn’t so horrified by it at the moment. 

“The first time Tommy had never kissed anyone, asked me to teach him so he wouldn’t fuck it up when it mattered. Then after that it just kind of continued to happen. We’d get drunk, make out, and pretend like nothing. It stopped when he started seeing Carol, he tried but I stopped him. Told him he didn’t need to practice now when he had the real deal. We never talked about or even mentioned it.”

Steve sees Eddie’s arms shake and when he looks up he sees Eddie holding back laughter, eyes filled with barely concealed amusement.

“Are you laughing right now?”

Eddie stops holding back, letting the laughter burst out of him and Steve is so confused because he thought Eddie would be mad at him. He’s not sure why, it’s just that this has been such a deeply buried secret wrapped in shame for years with a big ‘do not talk or even think about it’ sign placed in front of it. That it would be met with laughter was never a possibility.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps through it, “It’s just such a cliche.”

Steve’s confused face only makes Eddie laugh harder. When he calms down he takes Steve's face in both his hands holding him firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Steve, baby, sweetheart. Tommy used the oldest trick in the book on you, asking you to teach him how to kiss and you did it multiple times because what? he needed practice? That’s the flimsiest excuse to gay kiss your best friend and it’s also fucking done, it’s a cliche.”

Steve blinks, realizes that while he never had feelings for Tommy he had definitely found him attractive, had enjoyed kissing him. Had very deliberately not thought too deeply about his or Tommy's motives because that would have made it something he would have had to face.

“Oh,” he says.

Eddie smiles, wide and warm, “yeah, oh.”

“You don’t think I used him?” Steve has to ask, “if he had feelings for me and I didn’t have any for him.”

“No,” Eddie says, “not more than he did you. And you were kids, just messing around and trying to figure yourselves out in a not-very-accommodating world.”

Eddie squints a bit in thought, “though he probably thought you were more on the same page, that you could continue even though he was with Carol. Must have stung to be rejected.”

Steve snorts, “wasn’t really interested in helping anyone cheat, even under all the pretenses.”

“I know.” 

Eddie's eyes are soft, looking at him with so much warmth that Steve momentarily forgets what they were talking about until Eddie's mouth twists into a sly grin.

“I can’t believe your first gay experience was with Tommy fucking Hagan.”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, “at least I didn’t come in my pants ten seconds in, like some people I know.”

Eddie draws back, clutching his chest with his hands, “harsh words, love. It was at least a minute.”

[utaicon]

Is it okay if I say I like it?

2024 new years headers・★

For @sekaitransparents 1000 followers event (prompt 6: old or new)・★

Free to use, please reblog and credit if using!・★

[wesavegotham]

These fanon Tim Drake takes/fanfictions that paint him as the ultimate victim during the Morrrison era were always annoying, but if you're looking for a character to write fix it fanfictions about because they got abandoned by their family when they went through a lot of losses and lost themselves in the process, ran away from everything and only had the batfamily try to bring them back home ages after they had already run away and only after first blaming the kid and then not prioritizing bringing that kid back, then Damian from 2018 to 2020 is right there?

Where are my 1000+ fanfictions about that?

[bonefall]

do you ever worry your own writing might come off as misogynistic though? it seems deceptively easy

When you have anxiety, PTSD, OCD, or multiple of these things, every move you make is something you will self-doubt. It can become endless if you let it, and you can be frozen by absolute indescision.

Embrace the void and reach enlightenment with me; There are many ways to read a story, and no writer can pre-empt every possible interpretation. Not even myself.

If they think my work comes across as misogynistic? Let them. Salty amoebas are often wrong on the internet, but the block button and xkit are beautiful transwomen who are also my friends.

[vaguely-concerned]

the fact that anyone other than john thinks the trillionaires are in any way relevant to what is going on between the house and non-house cultures in the current day of the locked tomb universe baffles me so utterly. fuck trillionaires? I mean fr fr, no argument here. if the cost wasn't *checks notes* the entirety of the rest of humanity, giving them what was coming to them before they left would have been understandable if ultimately pointless.

however. and I cannot stress this enough. these are not the trillionaires. these are descendants living in the year of our Jod (kindly prince of death etc.) ten thousand. ten THOUSAND YEARS??? hello????? can anyone hear me????? do you fathom how many generations that is???????? I feel like some of these people think trillionairism is an immutable genetically inherited trait that makes it morally cool to murder someone indefinitely and that is WILD to me! what the FUCK is your expiration date on the sins of the father? I hope your ancestors didn't hoard resources during the last glacial period because I'm sorry to say that make it free game to hunt you for sport and use your bones to make furniture

(MERCYMORN and AUGUSTINE managed to pass this insight check!!!! two of the worst people who have ever lived and who helped build this system, and THEY understood it was monstrous and that it had to stop! come on if the dios apate crew managed to pass this morality 101 class there's absolutely no excuse for anyone else)

[my-pjo-stuff]

AU where Hades never cursed the Oracle of Delphi, and it not taking a new host really was just a weird anomaly case of no one "fitting" coming around. When May comes to camp and attempts to become the Oracle, she succeeds without any major issues. Apollo even allows her to raise her son- in her spare time where she isn't acting as his oracle, ofcourse. May's fine with it, overjoyed even. She moves into camp permanently together with Luke, Chiron allowing Luke to stay with his mother instead of going to the Hermes cabin while he's so young. Hermes meanwhile resigns himself to keeping his distance. He loves May- so seeing her like this, unattainable to him without risking the wrath of Apollo- well he simply can't bear it. Best not to risk it at all.

The dream comes crashing down for May much quicker than she expected though- turns out there's a lot more expected of her as Oracle of Delphi than she originally thought. She has to learn ancient greek, the culture of Camp Halfblood, and how things work. She has to advise people, and remain composed as she serves Apollo faithfully. (A younger Oracle would have had more time- would have seen less responsibility as she is allowed to grow into it. But May? She's a grown adult, and she does not have any of the leniency someone younger would get)

Years pass in the blink of an eye- and despite not spending as much time with her son as she wished she could- May does generally say that they are happy. She doesn't think much of it when Luke moves into the Hermes cabin at the age of nine. It's where all his siblings are, and kids to grow up quickly these days. It's note like he'd bee too far away either- all that really changes is Luke sleeping in a different spot! Chiron has been mentioning it anyway that Luke should join his siblings- Hermes had claimed him as soon as he moved into Camp with his mother permanently, and the boy's been kept from his cabin long enough.

It's not like she couldn't use the extra room and time for herself anyway. Being the Oracle of Delphi is a busy job after all. As the years go by May grows into her role more. Luke starts being independent from her more and more- spending more time away from her and with other campers. But there's no reason to be concerned about that, right? It's normal for children to grow independent as they age. And May is so proud of her baby boy when he becomes Hermes head counselor. His failed quest was...well, it was a low point. Especially when she had to look Luke in the eyes and give him a prophecy spelling doom. Believe her when she says that she spend every single day worrying about and praying for her child to return safely.

Especially when her brave boy refuses to take any companions with him, not wanting to endanger anyone else. It doesn't matter to May that Luke returns with a scar and no apple- all that matters is that he's alive. Her baby boy is alive and safe and that is all that matters. It concerns her when Luke refuses any of her attempts to comfort him. Turning his back anytime she approaches him, telling his mother "not to worry" and that "she surely has more important stuff to worry about than him"

May learns soon enough that her son needs space now. All her attempts are met with rejection and bitterness, so clearly Luke does not need- nor want- his mother right now. It's fine, May is sure her son is fine. Or at least she thought so until one day, on the last day of summer, Luke leads Percy into the woods and sticks a pit scorpion on him. Telling him about how horrid their parents truly are- mortal and godly. Afterall, no matter how much they say they "love" their children- there's always something more important. Another prophecy to speak, another camper to advise, another ritual for Apollo to perform. All that matters to them are the gods- a half-mortal child simply isn't important enough. And he's not gonna take it any longer. May is the Oracle of Delphi. Luke hates both his parents. And fate is unavoidable.

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

i stand with you in the face of a defensive misunderstanding of what critique is.

i think understanding what a critique actually is is a skill that increasingly is not taught. i remember going through freshman art courses feeling the frustration that all negative, nasty, unhelpful, and missed-the-point-entirely feedback is so commonly conflated with critique, and then critique gets a bad name because everyone remembers the time someone said their painting looked like an asshole (true story, altho now i think i would take it as a compliment) instead of the time a teacher or friend or classmate helped them uncover a hurtful bias or think of new ways to explore the same idea or how to connect it to related ideas or how to look up and understand other people's ideas on the same topic.

anyway i think you're great.

ahhh you're so kind to me!! i appreciate your support, and i think you are great also.

i have experience with giving and receiving critique as a student myself, and i think it was the best part of my degree! i majored in creative writing in college, and critique was just a generally accepted part of learning to become a writer. i don't even remember people being especially worried about receiving critique on their work. we had guidance on what kind of feedback was useful, but we were still at liberty to give it as we saw fit as like messy 19 year olds. the standard was that we gave it both written on printed copies of the work AND aloud in front of the whole class, and the writer receiving it was not permitted to speak during the critique. understanding how people are perceiving your work is important!

i don't have any particularly negative recollections of the critique process, although once in a high school writing class, the boys in the class told me that my male characters touched each other too gently and real boys are more rough with each other. in particular, they took issue with me writing that one boy nudged another. nudging is too soft. nudging is for girls. that was more than 20 years ago, and i still think about it sometimes because it was such an interesting perspective! i did not take their advice, though.

i should dig up that piece and see if it reads queer in any other ways. i think that's what they were getting at. (actually i once had a non-fiction class tell me i was in love with my roommate after reading an essay i wrote about her)(i did not listen to that advice either, but having 12 acquaintances tell you that you're gay in 2006 before you realize it yourself is Truly Something!)

i think people have conflated criticism and critique and think that being more openly analytical is the same thing as being negative. but analysis is so fun to me! analysis is why i joined fandom in the first place, and it's why i write fic! can we trust each other to be respectful and to speak in good faith even when we're not singing each other's praises? for me fandom would be better if we could.

oh i also want to clarify that i don't think it's impossible to demonstrate that you've thought deeply about a piece of fanwork while remaining completely positive. people do it all the time and do it very well!

i know i sometimes have tunnel vision wrt my own perspective. in a lot of situations, i wish it were more acceptable to be more direct, and i know people sometimes find the way i express myself to be kind of shocking. i know a lot of people like to be spoken to more indirectly than comes natural to me, and i don't mean to imply that my perspective is the only correct one or that there's no good reason to err on the side of gentleness/politeness in our responses to amateur art and writing. i just think that at a certain level of circumspection, it feels like we're all holding each other at arm's length.

i think for people who can't bear to feel exposed, making and sharing art is always going to be painful and difficult, and maybe too painful and difficult to enjoy the process unless they're sure of a soft landing. but like. the rewards of being loved only come after the mortifying ordeal of being known, right?

[kismetconstellations]

Amongst the myriad ways the Voltron: Legendary Defender writers failed spectacularly, is the unintentionally humorous example of Shiro's supposed future husband, "Curtis", having more chemistry with Acxa, in the form of an actual conversation he initiates with the intention of learning personal information about her.

"What about you, Acxa? Did you have pets where you're from?"

"I never had a creature companion. But, one of my partners, Narti, was bonded to an immortal cat named Kova.

That cat gave her the ability to experience the world."

"Oh. That's... 'great'."

This is more than he has with Shiro in the entire thirteen episode season, wherein their interactions are limited exclusively to shouting impersonal commands at each other in the heat of battle.

[hms-incorrect-quotes]

Demon: Now, in exchange for this deal, I require...your SOUL.

Heart: (Alright, I'll go bring him over.)

Demon: ...wait, what?

*Heart walks out of frame.*

Soul, off camera: {Oh, hey Hea- ...wait, what are you doing- N-NO- HEART-!!}

*Heart walks back into frame, dragging Soul behind him.*

Heart: (Got him!)

Demon: ...you know what..? K...Keep him.

‎

[zeroducks-2]

I've just finished Gotham Knights and I get that people aren't happy with the fucked ass haircuts but like, I do believe this is the most progressive and well written Jason Todd we've ever gotten in recent times. Even in recent comics. Like damn, bro goes to therapy, picked up his interests and hobbies again (e.g. the cooking and the reading and the shit talking) from his "Robin makes me Magic" days. Like yeah, he's still edgy, but he was murdered by a fucking Clown, he's allowed to be edgy. We got a Jason Todd that isn't diluted to "the angry black sheep character" archetype. He's healing, working on himself, his relationship with his family, and he's fighting his way (brutal and all strength and tact) to do what he stands for and what he believes is right. And his heart is just so big and full of compassion, but it doesnt blind him and make him wishful or naive. He's so well balanced in Gotham Knights. I hope this version of his character is written in future comics. I'm sick of DC writers making him this angry anti-hero who's only reasoning and purpose in life is to get back at Batman for failing him and so many others. Jason is allowed to be more than his trauma. Thank you Gotham Knights for seeing that.

I'm glad you enjoyed the game anon. I personally am not a fan, not because of Jason but because of the game itself. The dialogues felt stale, more reminiscent of tumblr "incorrect Batfam quotes" than the source material, and the NPCs felt dull compared to how full of life they were in the Arkham series (so much so I would hide in random spots just to hear them talking about the current game events, especially in AK). The most unforgivable bit to me was Tim not having ever fought the rogues because he's "young" - I've never seen anything more insulting and infantilizing for a character which already heavily suffers for being treated as the useless one, never allowed to participate in the game changing dynamics or to have meaningful arcs, and is relegated to being the cute little bisexual twink.

That being said it's a matter of taste, and Gotham Knights is surely a good game for those who prefer a wholesome loving family approach to these characters. Jason working on himself and going to therapy and having a good relationship with his "family" is surely what lots of people (especially in here) want to see. Me, I don't think any amount of therapy would help since therapy is based on shared human experiences and repetition of patterns, and Jason died and dug himself out of his own grave. That's not a trauma any therapist would have the means to help with. They indeed "diluted" the event in the game, changed the fact that Jason dug himself out of his own grave and was functionally braindead and homeless for two years, and made it so UTRH never happened in order for therapy to make any sense, because there is no reconciliation possible with a parent that slit your neck to save the person who broke all your bones with a crowbar and then murdered you.

It's kinda like when Wally went to therapy (canonically) after Barry's death. The therapist was a good one and he tried! But ultimately he didn't manage to make a real difference because Wally is the Flash, a super-powered creature with time bending powers who does things on the scale of absurdity, and who also happens to have had an extremely traumatic childhood and to have just lost the only person who ever loved him unconditionally. His problems have roots in reality but are out of the scope of any therapy method currently known to man.

And Jason is more than his trauma, but pretending his trauma doesn't inform his actions and can be solved with him "working on himself" is not an approach I hope they take in comics. I'd rather they went back to Jason doing things his way and protecting the people of Gotham in the only manner he finds helpful, because he experienced on his own skin (twice!) that Batman's methods don't work. I'd rather they allowed him to stop clashing with Bruce as main theme of his stories, and have his own plotlines in which he's in between a vigilante and a mafia lord (which they were doing with Dick by the way, before chickening out and have Slade bomb Bludhaven) with Bruce only as a cameo sometimes.

We have a high number of morally irrepressible characters who always do the right thing more or less. I'd like Jason to be something different, something darker, because there is a dramatic lack of grey characters and anti-heroes which were sanded down to either 100% bad guys or 100% good guys. I hate that, why can't we have nuanced choices and people struggling with the darkness they carry, why does everyone need to be a perfect "unproblematic" paragon of goodness who would never do anything wrong. We have A LOT of characters like that and I love them, I really do! But if everyone and their families are like that then it's really frickin boring!

Plus, I'd like the characters to actually struggle with their past traumas in a meaningful way, otherwise why even giving them those traumas to begin with. Give me Tim still grappling with how he couldn't save his father, give me Dick haunted by all the times he slipped and let go of the no killing rule in a way or another, give me Jason haunted by the tragedy of being abandoned by every person who was supposed to protect him and working from there to being the protector of everyone else.

That's what I hope DC would pick up and write about. I was never much for fluff and wholesome things unless it's in small amounts, I always preferred strife and complexity. But hey, I'm glad you enjoyed the game, at least one of us did!

[godsfavoritescientist]

Biting the bars of my enclosure about autistic ford tonight. There's something about him using vocabulary and turns of phrase that seem "outdated" or "pretentious" that feels so painfully genuine to me. When people say he talks like that just to "try to sound smart" I wish I could explain what it's like to be so ostracized from your peers growing up that you spend all your time reading instead, to the point where you pick up your way of speaking from books instead of from people. And then what it's like for people to call you out for "talking weird" over and over again, not able to wrap their heads around why the fuck you would choose more archaic or technical or formal words than the simpler ones that surely come to everyone's minds first. What it's like to have to dedicate a sizable chunk of attention to filtering through every single word you say out loud in real time before you say it, to make absolutely sure that it isn't a word people will judge you for using or make fun of you for using, just so you'll have a chance of being taken seriously. Learning through trial and error how to filter out the words that other people don't think are normal or casual enough for the conversation, even though for you, the word choice that's "natural-sounding" enough for them is the third or fourth word you came up with when searching for the right way to phrase something in your head. I wish I could explain just how long it takes to say fucking anything after spending a lifetime doing that during every single conversation, and how repetitive and long-winded you end up being when you spend so long coming up with alternative ways of saying every little thing you ever think. And I wish people realized that, at the very least for autistic people and autistic-coded characters, speech that's seen as pretentious is really just the way they talk when they're not putting in the extra effort to filter through every word they say just so others will take the time to listen.

[talentforlying]

priest: i don't, ah, quite know what to say to you. if you are in such terrible danger, why are you taking it all so calmly? constantine: hmh! i dunno, father. i had a bloke beaten to a pulp earlier this evening. that sound calm to you? priest: you did what...? constantine: i must've been off me bleedin' rocker. i've never done anything like it before in me life, y'know?

constantine: but there's header gets his guts blown out, and george is stickin' his head in the noose, and helen gets ... jesus, then friggin' sarah bites me head off — ! everything's coming to bits in me hands and it's so easy to just see red and now, shit, they could've killed the tosser for all i know! and now i'm just like the bastards i've hated all me life! kill him! fire him! close them down! piss all over him! screw you, i can do whatever i want! i so much as blink and you're dead, pal! i'm in charge!! ...

constantine: 'scuse me, father. i'm always like this when i don't get me own way. — hellblazer #81, "rake at the gates of hell pt. 4"

babygirl you are just....so, sooooo offputting. (and grieving, and guilty, and terrified, but yeah: offputting.)

anyway, it's issues like this one that remind me why i kind of hesitate over some of the retcons in the recent spurrier runs, like the one with him now having opened dream's pouch of sand and stolen some before they even met. because like, it's easy enough to look at john constantine now — with 70 years of worst possible choices and unresolved trauma crystallizing underneath his skin to cover up all the soft, hopeful bits where he's used to getting hit — and assign him arbiter of ill intentions, magus of wasted potential, saint of shit choices, but man . . . he was new to this, once. he was still new to this 80 issues in.

80 issues in, and he's not used to losing friends yet; he even has time enough between catastrophes to grieve each individual one. still has enough left to live for at this stage to necessitate running and hiding, instead of bodily throwing himself at the problem like he learns to later, or sitting apathetically by to do nothing except smoke and watch the world fall apart when he finally gives up. fuck, he still apologizes.

and you're telling me this guy, this soppy wet cat motherfucker hiding from the devil in a church basement, so guilty over not knowing what happened to the guy that he paid people (paid chas, so chas could pay people) to attack that the bottle he's holding in this scene isn't even his second or third........this guy's past, more innocent self lied right to the face of DREAM OF THE ENDLESS and got away with it?

hm. i just don't know about all that.

[blurryface-never-left]

Can't believe Tumblr recommended me a post of someone bashing Joshler fans so absurdly hard only to be educated in the comments on how the pilots are probably the BIGGEST shippers of themselves and they STILL kept their misinformed post up.

Like I understand both sides of the discussion on rpf, but I think we should agree that if the ppl being shipped have actively stated they're okay with it and even encourage it, then you harshly calling the shippers disgusting, then your speaking on behalf of ppl without their permission. So please, tell us all about consent since you seem to follow it so well.

Also, learn to look into shit before proclaiming with your chest information that is possibly easily debunkable. Or at the very least, when you are given the correct information, apologize and remove the post. You literally bashed a whole group of ppl bc you thought so highly of your own opinion. Makin it out like we support murder or some shit holy fuck.

[scificrows]

okay after hearing everyone's opinions on this on this post i felt like a poll was in order! i hope i didn't forget anything! soooo:

[altair214]

If Dream of the Endless had access to the Am I The Asshole subreddit "Am I the Asshole for condemning my lover to Hell?"

"I was informed quite recently by a friend that this is a good place to receive unbiased judgement on past actions of mine that were not well received by people. As there are few beings I trust to ask for unbiased, well-meaning judgement from, I turn to the internet.

After a recent excursion to Hell, my raven saw fit to inform me that condemning a past lover to Hell might be seen, in my raven's words "as a dick move." My sibling, who has seen fit to give a mortal the tools to imprison me for a century and has made an attempt on my life, has criticized me before for the decision I made to condemn my lover to Hell.

Our story took place 10,000 years ago. She was a mortal queen and very beautiful. She was desired by many, but she refused them. One day she laid eyes on me, not knowing who or what I am, and decided that I would be her lover. She pursued me, and eventually found me in my realm. We began to get to know each other. She truly loved me at first. And I loved her. No one had ever loved me enough to go to the lengths she had to find me. I offered to make her the queen of my realm. But when she truly began to understand what it is that I am, and that I would not abandon my realm to be her lover, she became fearful. I did not want her to leave me, so when she ran, I ran after her. She hurt herself in the hopes that it would make me disgusted with her and leave. When she saw that she did not scare me away, she allowed me to heal her. We made love all through the night.

In the morning, her city was destroyed, for the First Circle had decreed that one of the Endless cannot love a mortal. We had both known that. She had tried to put an end to our relationship before it was too late, but in the end our desire for each other had overcome all else.

In her despair, she killed herself. I was distraught, I would have made her my queen. But she chose death over me. She chose to abandon me, she chose to abandon hope, for death. Still, I would have forgiven her for that transgression. I would still have her as my queen. I would still love her.

But she rejected me. Even though she loved me, she would rather die than be with me. So I told her that I would offer my love a final time, but if she once again would choose death over me, that I would condemn her soul to Hell.

She did not answer at first. She said that we were never meant to be together and that darker things would come to be if we tried to be together. I asked her once again as she was making the journey to the Sunless Lands. She told me to leave her. I asked her for the last time. She refused me and I condemned her to Hell.

She sought me out, only to reject me. To reject dreams by killing herself. She loved me and yet would choose to die rather than be with me. She would choose Hell rather than be with me even though she sought me first. I felt that my actions were justified. She was not moved by the pain that her actions caused me. What could I have done except punish her for her callousness?

I felt I was completely justified in my actions until very recently when I saw her in Hell. I had not thought of her in a long time, though I still loved her. But my recent experience of being imprisoned for a century had changed me in ways that I have only recently admitted to myself. For the first time I wondered if perhaps my original judgement to condemn her to Hell was made in error. So I am turning to here at the recommendation of a friend. Am I the Asshole?"