#god i love giving characters more trauma

[kaylamoonlight121]

While I work on the wips (definitely don't have a ton of stories needing completed), have the drawing wip.

Jk, have some story spoilers too. (In no particular order)

[caluupin]

Finished TGAAC around 2 1/2 weeks ago but only finished the doodles today. but still, here ya go!

[buck-up-buck]

7x09 is titled "Unfinished Business" ....

Tell me that is not a revenge plot against Bobby. TELL ME. You can't. If I was not convinced before, I AM NOW.

hErE mE oUt.

I'm not saying they are going to burn down Buck's loft, I AM NOT... BUT, imagine Bobby is dropping a patient off at the hospital with Hen and Chim (I know this hardly ever happens but roll with me guys), and our friend, the Burn Unit Nurse, sees him, and is like...

"Bobby?" BECAUSE, he recognises him, from all those years ago in Minnesota. He lived in Bobby's apartment complex, they were somewhat neighbours, and he saw Bobby go into that vacant apartment that night (the night we do not DARE talk about), on his way to work, and was working a night shift at the hospital when suddenly, they get an influx of patients with burns and smoke inhalation from an apartment fire downtown, and he hears in passing from a nurse the address, and his heart sinks because no his fiance was at home asleep at that address and he hears from someone a few weeks later that the fire started in a vacant room due to an electrical issue with a space heater and HE JUST KNOWS.

And Bobby turns around to face him and is like "Sorry, do I know you?" Because Bobby was going through it back then, he doesn't remember this guy, and the guy is like, "Sorry, no, I was mistaken." And he walks away leaving Bobby all like huh.

Then the episode ends with the truck pulling into the firehouse and the camera pans out and we see BURN UNIT NURSE GUY STOOD ACROSS THE ROAD STARING UP AT THE FIREHOUSE BECAUSE DUN DUN DUN- He has some Unfinished Business to attend to.

If this so happens to lead to the burning down of Buck's loft because this guy does his research and he does some stalking and he sees a connection that Bobby has with Buck that he doesn't seem to share with the other members of the team, then well, ya'll didn't see it here first but I fucking called it if so, because you're telling me that is not a CRAZY storyline right there.

BUT, even if not, even if we do not get our beloved loft burning down scene that we have been writing and praying for on Fanfiction for years, you cannot tell me that there is not going to be some kind of dark revenge plot going on in the last four episodes. This nurse is about to cause some HAVOC I CAN SENSE IT. MY SPIDEY SENSES ARE TINGLING GUYS.

Anyway, @whollyjoly and @thetangycheesemanwithaplan had the absolute joy of hearing this from a very sleep-deprived me last week and now that the episode titles have been released, Buck's loft burning down and Burn Unit Nurses revenge plot is going to be my new personality trait. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

[flutt3rb4tz]

i wanna form an actual opinion on the sh2 remake but god i cant get past how much they butchered eddie's design. he looked like me originally and now hes just That Fat Guy you see in video games, same style and everything. it makes me really sad. not to mention im TERRIFIED of how they'll handle his psychosis

[tibtew]

*sigh* something something the two-dimensionality of saeru's characterisation is a writing flaw, not a feature, and trying to pass it off as a feature whilst berating anyone who sees it as a flaw is uh. A Choice

[aesthetic-uni]

Me: *Writing a story*

Brain:

Me: Don’t fucking do it

Brain: :)

Me: Don’t you fucking dare

Brain: :)

Me: I just want a normal goddamn-

Brain: THIS CHILD IS A CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE WHO WILL FOREVER HAVE THE LOVE OF THE UNIVERSE UNCONDITIONALLY AND THUS HAVE THE POWER OF THE UNIVERSE COURSING THROUGH ITS VEINS, THE UNIVERSE UNCARING BUT IT IS CRUEL TO THOSE WHO HARM WHAT IS THEIRS AND THEY WILL MAKE IT KNOWN-

[waywardsalt]

>:3

[inhonoredglory]

Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

[kaylamoonlight121]

Just remembered about the poll I posted and...

counting all of the votes per person, they've all got 4. So I guess I'll just see where I end up and kill whoever when needed

[cherry-pop-elf]

Your Own Happy Ending

Mouthwashing gang X Reader

AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy

Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock

Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you

This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.

No one except him.

Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.

You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.

Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.

He didn’t want his sins to escape.

You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.

There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.

You needed a weapon.

Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.

You had to get him before he got you.

What else could be a weapon?

A knife? A knife!

You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.

To your horror there was no knives.

“He took all the knives….”

You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.

Daisuke said it.

“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”

Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.

This couldn’t go on.

“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.

“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.

“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-

That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.

“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.

Even a man like him.

“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.

That’s what made her forever better than him.

“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.

Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.

They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.

You needed that damn key.

You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.

As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.

That coward.

You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.

Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.

Everything was to loud.

That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.

“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”

A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.

Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.

Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.

He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.

“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?

“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.

This was your chance.

This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.

No one was safe with Jimmy still around.

You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.

You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.

Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.

Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.

“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.

You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.

“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.

“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.

“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.

You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.

Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.

“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.

You still kept going.

You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.

You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.

The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.

Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.

“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.

That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.

You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.

You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.

“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.

You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.

You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.

Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.

When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.

No matter. You had hope.

You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!

“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.

“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!

“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.

You said five for a reason.

“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.

“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.

“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.

“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.

“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.

“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“

Bang.

Silence.

Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.

With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.

He was dead.

Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.

You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.

One Month After The Call.

“Morning sunshine.”

You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?

“Over here.”

You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!

“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”

Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….

“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.

“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.

“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.

“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.

“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.

No more Jimmy.

No more space ships.

Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.

“Sleep well, sunshine.”

“You to, Captain.”

A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.

You were free.

[sassy-cass-16]

look man. look

essek saying "bren" out loud, claiming a position on caleb's side as the mouthpiece of his regards to astrid, did something to me. i can't tell if it opened a wound or punched me or gave me a hug. all i know is that i am feeling so many emotions right now

more under the cut because i'm about to get rambly:

"bren aldric ermendrud" is a separate character from caleb widogast. he's a young boy learning how to make magic. he's a deeply traumatized and indoctrinated teenager. he's the boy who curled up with astrid and eadwulf in a freezing tower for warmth all night.

essek never met bren. he met caleb and he's never known him as anyone else. if i'm remembering correctly, caleb never even said the name "bren" to him during the campaign, and neither did any of the nein.

essek knows caleb widogast. he knows the man who held up the object of his worst crime and then kissed him in the bowels of a ship and made a floor of infinite stars for them to walk through together. he knows the person who healed over bren's wounds—thinly, but enough. he knows the man that the boy has become.

astrid knows bren. she barely knows who caleb is. she still calls him bren after hearing him referred to as caleb repeatedly. she can't know him as the man he is, she only knows the boy. there's some of bren in caleb, but there is no caleb in bren.

essek saying "bren sends his regards" is him gauging astrid's reaction, on one level—if she freaks out, which she did, she's in opposition to caleb's cause and thus a threat. on another level, it's essek delivering a very different subtextual message from caleb: "the boy who loved you is giving you one final warning."

because essek is a threat to astrid. their last meaningful interaction was slinging spells at each other in the blooming grove. and that's funny in a "current boyfriend vs ex girlfriend exclusively fight each other" kind of way, but it's also deeply tied to caleb's recurring theme of transformation. "bren sends his regards" also means "i have healed enough to love enough for someone else to know this name and use it with my consent. and this someone else is your enemy. what does that make you think i've become?"

it also does a fantastic job of communicating subtle offscreen discussions that have happened over the years since the end of c2. we don't have the details of when or how caleb told essek his birth name, but we know that he did, and we know from all of c2 that the name bren occupies a place of immense emotional weight for caleb. it functions similarly to a deadname in terms of who uses it and for what purpose. trent exclusively calls caleb bren to wound him and place himself in a position of power. astrid calls him bren to remind both him and herself of who they used to be—same with eadwulf, though obviously he's not here.

the first time we hear essek say "bren" is on caleb's behalf and confronting one of the narrative representations of caleb's trauma. it's four words that manage to communicate "i, your enemy on a hundred levels, can speak for both the man i love and the boy who loved you, because i know him in his entirety."

astrid knows bren and essek knows caleb, but only essek can speak for both. because at some point, caleb gave bren to essek. and we know this from four words. four IMPROVISED words.

god. this moment is just so fucking good

[thatonegayship]

I had to

Wait, does the cheating thing on the bond always works? bcs that would be kinda freaky for R!Dipper like imagine you get pinned down by someone in the corner of a br or smthng and then said person kissed you and proceeded to explode into red mist and you literally have no idea what happened.

Also, would the constellation mark be a "cursed" Mark over the years, like you would give birth to a baby and the doctor says "😟 I am so sorry ma'am,,, I'm afraid your baby has the Cipher Companion mark. ( could also be something equally as science-y like Ursa Major, Constellation Calamation, etc idk)" And you just burst into tears.

Would that mean that dipper would get into a special program(demon wrangling program or smthng, demonologist? Maybe)? Or would the parents hide it away hoping that Bill would never take their child away?

(Sorry this au is just very interesting to me,,,, I hope u get more motivation, keep writing author 💪)

These are all options! The fun part of reincarnation AU being left ambiguous is that technically any of them could happen.

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[prismalmelonman]

Touching on Gale, Wyll, and Halsin's traumas being a bit undermined in parts of the fandom

So one thing I notice on Twitter is how some people act about the bg3 characters whose abuses were perpetuated by women.

Gale specifically for this reason (but I will touch on others)bbecause I see him dismissed super often as "can't get over his ex".

But Gale's case obviously be has the line of Mystra being like "she was my muse, my teacher, and then my lover" and sure to some that's a red flag in itself (when it comes to adults I don't really give a fuck about teacher/student) but if you view it from not only Gale's own words "ive been connected with the weave for as long as i can remember"

And that doesn't distract from his genuine love of magic of course. And it also doesn't mean that he's actually been in connection with mystra for an amount of time.

However, if you ascend Gale, and he becomes a god, you get a bunch of new little things. Tara reminiscing of course, but you get a letter from Elminster, detailing that Mystra had Elminster scope out Gale when he was eight!

And sure is that pretty cool that he's a prodigy that got the attention of the goddess of magic at that age? Yes. Mystra is, however, known in forgotten Realms lore to seek young young boys who are in tune with magic to make into her chosen. And from context clues, her chosen can be anything from Elminster and Volo, dedicated wizards who try to keep things in check, etc etc. or they're somewhat of playthings to her.

Minsc also has a conversation where me mentions that weave-touched boys in his homeland were hidden away to hone their craft, then suspecting that it was because of Mystra, given Gale's case.

Gale always seems so proud that he got to bed a goddess, and on the surface, hell yeah, that's cool.

Gale continued to have her attention even as he went to Blackstaff Academy, and Mystra eventually did take him on as an apprentice directly to her, later making him her chosen, and sleeping with him.

The reason it bothers me that people dismiss all of Gale's stuff to just "he can't get over his ex" is because that's is like almost textbook grooming? She was in his life from a young age, shaping and moulding him up as he grew up to be her perfect chosen, rewarding him by sleeping with him, and so on. And then of course casting him away when he has his folly with the netherese orb (and to be fair, it very well could have looked like to her that he was trying to seize the power himself and yes the orb does siphon off weave. That is a problem for the mistress of the weave yes).

But she also tells gale to KILL HIMSELF for her forgiveness.

Gale is much more than "unable to be over his ex" this woman was in his life since he was a kid. She's almost all he has ever known. If course it's going to be difficult for him to 1. Say no to her. 2. Get over the fact that he's lost someone that he spent his literal entire life dedicated to. Honestly if asked, I don't even think Gale would acknowledge or really see that what he went through was, in fact, abuse until it was spelled out in front of him. (Which does happen somewhat with the player character pleading to him that killing himself for mystra's forgiveness is actually horrific and that he should in fact be angry for how he was treated)

Similarly, and this one has been discussed a lot, Wyll and Mizora. Wyll was 17 and actively trying to help his people. 17, in a vulnerable state, willing to do anything to help and prove himself. Mizora very clearly took advantage of him, and regards him as a "pet", refers to him being "leashed", and so on. Personally, I do dislike the sexualization of their relationship, because it very much is also grooming (although a different type. Rather than manipulating and shaping his life from the ground up, she takes advantage of a vulnerable and desperate state to manipulate and contract Wyll into doing her bidding. I won't go too deep I to this one because it has been discussed to hell and back. But I did wanna touch on Wyll's situation as well.

Also, Halsin as well, though that has also been discussed in many retrospectives by a very good friend of mine. Halsin's trauma often get dismissed due to his polyamory, open sexual nature, and his own somewhat diminishing/dismissal of it, which honestly I love the representation of, cause for a while I did that with my own trauma. Halsin was a sex slave to a house of Lolth-Sworn drow, a matriarchal society, where the men are generally used as fodder or for breeding, though male Lolth-Sworn drow can be wizards and rise in the ranks if wizardry, but are limited everywhere else. (Minthara mentions that the third male, and every subsequent male child after third are killed for being"useless"). Halsin often referred to them as "hosts" rather than being captors, (though he does touch on that if the Player Character threatens to sell him back into slavery). Again, everything I'd have to say here for Halsin has entirely been discussed top to bottom by a friend, their link is below!!

Anyway, long story short, I dislike it a lot when Gale, Wyll, and Halsin's traumas and abuses get diminished, even if/when the character themself doesn't see or acknowledge the abuse in the same lens that we, the players, do.

[guilty-pleasures21]

My friend and I were talking about Jason and she said it would be cool if Jason's S/O got along with Bruce, but I honestly don't see that happening?

I can't imagine being in a relationship with Jason and at the same time thinking Bruce is a nice guy after all

What do you think?

Oh my god! I’m so excited for this! I decided to respond in the form of a story 😉.

Bruce Wayne

Warnings: brief references to loss and trauma.

----------------------------------------------------------

It took nine months for him to finally let you in enough for you to start falling in love with him. 

     You’d first met Jason in the library; specifically the literature section. He’d been standing by one of the shelves, quietly flipping through a copy of Jane Austen’s Emma. He’d had the build of a stereotypical jock, so you’d honestly been a little surprised to see him focusing so intently on the British classic. But those were just your own biases, so you’d quickly tossed them aside in favour of returning to your search. Halloween was coming up, which always put you in the mood for one of your favourite classics: Dracula. It was short and the unconventional style of writing was always a little jarring at first, but you absolutely loved reading about how the characters puzzled through the mystery. You’d knelt down, searching the shelf where the novel should have been sitting according to the alphabetical filing system. But it hadn’t been there. You’d frowned and tsked in irritation, then quickly snuck a glance at the man standing behind you. You’d barely caught him raising an eyebrow at you over the top of his book before he’d quickly lowered his gaze, acting as if he hadn’t even noticed you there. You’d turned back to the shelves and stood up, checking to see if someone had accidentally misplaced the book after picking it up for a quick read … There! On the top shelf! You’d stretched onto your toes, reaching for the spine, but your fingers had barely grazed the edge of the shelf. 

     “Need some help?” You’d turned to find the man’s attention fully focused on you now, his startling green eyes studying you intently. He’d lowered his book, allowing you a glimpse of his rugged features, his wide lips and his crooked nose that looked like it had been broken and reset a few times already. He’d raised an eyebrow at you and you’d realised suddenly that you’d been staring. 

     “Oh!” you’d gasped, embarrassed by your own actions. “Uh, thank you!” 

     You’d stepped aside, giving him the space to get the book for you, and you couldn’t help but notice how big he was - tall and strong and broad. He’d grabbed the book with ease and rolled his eyes at the title before handing it over to you. 

     “Excuse me?” you’d said, frowning up at him whilst cuddling the book protectively to your chest. He’d given you a once-over in response, taking in your small form, so fragile compared to him, then he’d gone back to his side of the shelf, his expression unimpressed. 

     “Nothing,” he’d drawled, opening up his book again. But the amount of sarcasm contained in that single word had only caused your anger to bubble even more. 

     “What’s wrong with Dracula?” you’d asked, a hundred different retorts coming to mind immediately. Your heart had thudded with anticipation as the adrenaline had raced through your system, your defences instinctively locking into place to shield you from whatever hatred might have been about to spew from his mouth. 

     “It’s a little cliche, isn’t it?” he’d suggested, picking up his book again. “Halloween … vampires … You in a book club or something, princess?” 

     He’d flashed you a little smirk, his expression more teasing than unkind, but the condescending nickname had raked over your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “At least his characters are more nuanced! And he develops more of a plot in these few pages than Jane Austen does in any of her hundred novels! It’s not just the same old story of two extremely unlikeable characters falling in love over and over again under a different title!” 

     Jason had flinched at your outburst, taken aback by your sudden vehemence. He’d told you later that he didn’t usually let people off so easily, but he hadn’t been able to get mad in the face of your adorableness. You’d rolled your eyes at his admission, but smiled anyway as you’d curled up into his side. It had taken about a year after meeting him before you’d finally realised the real reason he hadn’t shot back at you - the reason he’d just given you an amused smirk and asked if you’d read all of Jane Austen’s ‘hundred’ novels.

     Because he’d seen in you that same instinct - that same fear - to always be on your guard, to always be prepared for someone to attack you and know that no one would come to your defence but you. 

     And that was how you’d first become friends with Jason Peter Todd. 

It took three months after you’d admitted your feelings for him to yourself before you’d realised that he was never going to be the first one to make a move.

     You’d been sitting on his sofa, watching a movie at his place as was your weekly Friday night ritual. You’d never been able to get into Jane Austen’s books, but you’d always loved the movie versions of her stories. Jason had been sitting beside you, legs spread apart, one elbow on the armrest, his hand propping his head up as he’d focused on the movie. You’d inched closer to him at a cautious pace, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. 

     “What are you doing?” Jason had asked finally, nothing ever escaping his notice. His tone was amused - as it always was when he was with you - but it did nothing to ease the churning of your stomach as you’d gathered up your courage. You’d kept your attention fixed on the television, watching as Alicia Silverstone sat in the exact same position as you, puzzling over how to express her true feelings to Paul Rudd beside her. 

     “I like you.” A blanket of tension had smothered the room at your confession, the only sounds coming from the movie that neither of you were paying attention to anymore. Finally, unable to take it any longer, you’d paused the movie and turned to Jason, your brows furrowed in irritation. “Well?” 

     He didn’t know whether to laugh or bolt in terror. Of course you would be the only person to confess your feelings and then get mad when the other person didn’t respond. But he had that same instinct too: to take your fear and twist it into anger - to defend yourself even before the other person could think to attack.

He’d turned away from you, his leg starting to shake as he’d processed your words. He couldn’t- You couldn’t. You couldn’t like him! Not like that! You were his friend and … he couldn’t afford to f*ck up the best thing had ever happened to him in his life! Even if he’d been finding it more and more difficult to stop his gaze from lingering on your soft curves and your full lips and imagining what you would feel like pressed up against him with absolutely nothing in between your bod- No! No. It was a horrible idea. 

     He’d turned to face you, wanting to list out all the reasons he wasn’t good for you. But you’d known him for too long now and you knew by the defeated slump of his shoulders exactly what was going to come out of his mouth. 

     “Don’t!” you’d exclaimed, jumping to your knees and clamping your hands over his mouth before he could speak. His eyes had widened in surprise at your sudden movements and you’d removed your hands from his mouth, satisfied that you’d startled him enough for him to not argue with you. “I don’t want a list of bullshit reasons about why you think you’re not good enough to be in a relationship or how you think it’s going to mess up our friendship or whatever else nonsense you’ve somehow convinced yourself of over the past few years.”

     You’d rearranged yourself on his lap then, swinging your leg over both of his and sliding your arms around his neck as you’d laid your head on his shoulder. 

     “I love you, Jace,” you’d continued softly, running your fingers through his hair. “We can take it slow - we have the rest of our lives, after all - but I want to make this work. I want us … I want you. I just want you, for the rest of our lives.” 

     You’d sat there in silence for a while, letting him digest your words. And slowly, his heartbeat had slowed and his muscles had relaxed until finally, he’d let his arms come loosely around your waist. “I don’t-” 

     He’d cut himself off as his voice had cracked with emotion, and he’d tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’d continued to brush his hair gently, keeping your breathing steady and allowing your weight on top of him to keep him grounded. You’d seen him have panic attacks before and though he’d told you a little bit about what had caused them, he still hadn’t gone into much detail about it. All you knew was that he’d gotten beat up by a bad guy as a kid. He’d seemed horribly uncomfortable even telling you that much, so you’d never pushed him for more information. You were too good to him. 

     “I love you, Jay,” you’d repeated, holding him close to you, trying to physically transfer your love for him from your body into his. Eventually, you’d sat back and moved your hand to his cheek instead. You’d studied his features carefully: his thick eyebrows, his moss-coloured eyes, the tiny scar that cut into the corner of his upper lip … “We can … take it slow …”

     And then you were kissing, your lips brushing each other’s softly as your tongues explored one another’s mouths. You’d let him take the lead, stepping back after being the one who’d made the first move, and soon, your kisses had turned heated: his hands squeezing every curve they ran over, your fingers sneaking beneath his shirt to glide over his hard muscles, your hips moving against one another’s as you'd both started getting excited. Eventually, he’d lifted you up and walked you backwards to his bedroom, your lips never leaving the other’s as you’d pulled each other's clothes off along the way. 

     And that had been the best night of your entire life, no thanks to Jason Peter Todd. 

It took another six months after that for him to tell you the whole story of what had happened. 

     He’d sat on your sofa, leg shaking vigorously, teeth buried in his lower lip as he’d waited for you to say something. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d finally told you the whole story: the day he’d gone to the warehouse, the thrashing he’d gotten from The Joker, the trauma of having his soul forced back into his body … and then having the only person who’d saved him from the streets - who’d promised him that there was something in him worth saving - turn around and tell him that no, there really wasn’t anything in him worth saving after all. Now you understood why he found it so hard to let himself be loved by you - to believe that anyone could ever find something in him worth loving. 

     “Oh, Jay.” You’d wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you and murmuring into his hair over and over again that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You loved his righteous anger and his concerned protectiveness and his unwavering sense of justice. For you, there wasn’t any part of him that wasn’t worth loving - that wasn’t worth saving. Over and over and over again. Maybe you hadn’t been there to save him then, but you were there to save him now. As many times as he needed someone to. 

Finally, he took you to meet his family. 

     You clasp the man’s hand, fixing him with a wary expression as you shake it. “Mr Wayne.” 

     “Please, call me Bruce,” he insists, fixing you with the same smile he’d probably been trained to wear as a child. You let out a noncommittal hum as your hand falls back to your side and you don’t miss the minute flicker in his expression in response to your cold demeanour. But he brushes it aside and glances over at Jason in question, waiting. 

     He’d told him a few days ago that he was planning to ask his girlfriend to come over for Thanksgiving. The rest of the family had already met you - mostly by stalking Jason and constructing elaborate situations in which they’d ‘casually’ ‘bump into’ both of you on the street or a café somewhere - and they’d all been delighted by his sweet little girlfriend who, at times, seemed to have even worse of a temper than him, but who also appeared to love him more than anything else in the world. Bruce’s heart had swelled at the thought of someone giving his son all the love he deserved - all the love he himself had failed so miserably at giving him - and he’d barely managed to keep a lid on his excitement when Jason had finally mentioned bringing you over. But he’d follow his son’s lead and do only as he said. 

     Jason shakes his head slightly, telling Bruce not to take it too personally, then he guides you to the kitchen, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Bruce waits for the rest of his kids to follow, then finally, he joins you all at the dining table. 

     The atmosphere is lively, everyone laughing and joking and sarcastically listing all the things they’re thankful for. You join in the fun, easily fitting in with the rest of his family, but there’s a moment when you pause - when your gaze lands on Bruce and you find yourself taking a moment to study his expression. 

     He hadn’t said much the entire meal, but he’d watched his family with an expression of tenderness - of disbelief - his lips curled into a soft smile as he’d surveyed his loved ones celebrating this day of thanks together. And it struck you: the familiarity of that look. 

     Because how many times had you seen it on Jason? Jason, who would watch you with that same tenderness on his face whenever you did something to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he really was worth loving. From something as simple as calling him cute when he was annoyed with someone for deviating from his mission plan to the bigger stuff like surprising him with a tray of brownies you'd made from scratch because you knew they were his favourite. He'd spent so long being convinced that he wasn't worth loving that he still couldn't quite believe it whenever you made space for him in your life. And now here was Bruce, giving the large, boisterous family he’d so carefully cultivated the exact same look.

     The moment continues to linger in your mind as you all settle down to watch a movie, Jason's siblings arranging themselves across the various forms of furniture scattered around the room while you cuddle up with him on a loveseat by the sofa. The night soon turns into a game of who can stay awake the longest as one by one Jason's family begins dozing off, their satisfying meal coaxing them into a state of sleepiness. You yourself find it hard to keep your eyes open when you're wrapped up in your boyfriend's big, strong arms, all snuggled up against his broad chest. Eventually, Bruce forces everyone up and to their beds, making sure they're all safely tucked in before retiring to his own bedroom. 

     You lie with Jason in his bed, tickling his scalp in the way that always makes him drowsy, even when he's finding it difficult to sleep. 

     “What?” he asks finally, sensing that you're still awake. You narrow your eyes in thought, combing through all the information Jason has ever shared with you. 

     “How old was Bruce when his parents died?” You knew the story, of course - Bruce Wayne had lost his parents in a mugging incident when he'd been just a child - but you hadn't grown up in Gotham, so you weren't too sure about the details of the case. 

     “Hmm, I think he was eight,” Jason supplies, doing his best to stay focused despite your soothing touch. “Why?” 

     Eight?! That must have been horrible! “And did he … have a lot of other family to take care of him?”

     He was rich - obscenely so - and he had a house big enough to rival the President's! So of course he must have had some wealthy aunt or uncle who'd taken him in after his parents died. 

     “No,” Jason mumbles, starting to lose the battle against sleep. “He just had Alfred.”

     Your heart squeezes in your chest, hurting on behalf of the little boy who'd had to grow up almost completely alone, no parents, no siblings, no one at all who understood his circumstances and gave him a reason to keep living.

     “But … How did he keep living? In spite of it all?”

     Jason hums softly, not quite registering the question as he splays his limbs out across you. “I don't know. How do any of us?” 

     You swallow down the lump in your throat and resolve to forget about it. For now, at least.

     You wake up earlier than Jason the next morning - a rare feat, especially considering that it's almost noon - and head to the kitchen to get some coffee after taking a shower. You're surprised to find Bruce already doing the exact same thing, but he greets you with a welcoming smile. 

     “Need any help?” he asks, giving you enough space to stand in front of the machine. You study the various buttons and knobs, trying to see if you can puzzle it out yourself. But in the end, you decide that it's probably better to just let him handle it. 

     “Um, yes, please!” you agree sheepishly, stepping aside and letting him take over. “Can I just have a latte?” 

     He gets to work making you your coffee, then invites you to join him in the garden outside. You clutch your cup tightly, refusing to make it so easy for him to get into your good graces, but you join him anyway, intrigued to find out more about this man who had forsaken your precious Jason when he'd been just a child. You sit in silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time, refusing to start the conversation first. So Bruce begins. 

     “My kids have told me that they think you’re really good for Jason,” he tells you softly, gazing out at his beautifully staged garden. He turns to you and his gaze bounces between your face and the table as he continues speaking. “I’m glad … I’m glad that he’s finally found someone … who makes it easier.” 

     He chose his words carefully, unsure of how much you knew about Jason’s life, so you decided to enlighten him. “He told me … everything.”

     Bruce lifts his head and fixes you with a surprised - and wary - look. 

     “I know … about his parents and Red Hood and … and The Joker.” Your voice grows soft at the last part, your heart aching at the memory of everything he’d told you. You slide your gaze over to Bruce, who’s lowered his head at the revelation that Jason really had told you everything. You narrow your eyes at the look of shame on his face and the rage begins to take over you. “I know … what you did after he came back - or, really, what you didn’t do. Were your morals so important that you couldn’t … Didn’t you think …” 

     You clench your fists, trying to find the words to convey your emotions. Finally, you push yourself out of your seat, your features hard with the same righteous anger that Jason always wore. “I love Jason! I think he’s the most wonderful, sweetest, most caring human being I have ever known in my life! He deserves the world and everything more! And you …” 

     You dig your nails into your palms then force yourself to take a deep breath, letting the anger pass through you. 

     “I agree.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. Then he holds your gaze and repeats the words. “I agree with you. Jason deserves everything he never thought … he was good enough for.”

     He clasps his hands together, fidgeting with his fingers as he tries to figure out how to continue. “I …”

     I was wrong? I did my best? I’d do it differently if I could go back in time and fix it? The excuses leaped to the tip of his tongue, but they were all lies. Jason Todd had always been Jason Todd, and it didn’t matter how many times he ran over the millions of different scenarios in his mind: the two of them would have always ended up in the same stalemate in the end. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne too. 

     Bruce sits back and returns his gaze to his garden, serene and calm and the opposite of everything his life had ever been. “Is he still going to therapy?” 

     You grit your teeth, irritated by the sudden change of topic. But you’ve loved Jason Todd everyday for almost two years now: you knew how to look for the subtle shifts in his expression, the small ticks and habits that gave away his emotions when he was working so hard to hide them. So you don’t miss the tightness of Bruce’s jaw and the tension in his biceps and the minute shifting of his shoes as he probably wriggled his toes in them. 

     “Yes,” you sigh, sitting back down again. “He’s doing a lot better.”

     “Good.”  Bruce nods slowly. “Good. And his … Has he had any attacks recently?” 

     He turns to you, his eyes overflowing with concern, and the final remnants of your anger leave you. “He’s had a few, but they’ve been getting less over time. And he’s gotten better at dealing with them.” 

     Bruce nods again. “I’ve heard about this … tapping technique? Apparently it can help with anxiety if you tap certain places on your body? I can send you a few links if you think it might help him?” 

     And suddenly, he’s not Bruce Wayne, the untouchable billionaire with the practised smile, nor is he Batman, the sour vigilante who thinks he knows better than everyone. He was Bruce Wayne, the little boy who’d lost the most important people in his life and been forced to learn how to grow up without them. The little boy who fought so desperately every single night to make sure that no one else would ever have to go through the same things he had. The little boy who still couldn’t figure out why no one had thought that he was worth saving. Just like Jason Todd. 

     And now you understand. Bruce Wayne had never forsaken Jason Todd. He’d never abandoned him or chosen anyone else over his precious second son. He just hadn’t known how to save the little boy who’d been forced to grow up on his own, who fought every single night to make sure no other child suffered the same fate as him, who had never been able to figure out why he hadn’t been worth saving. He hadn’t known how to save himself. 

     “That’d be great,” you tell Bruce, giving him a warm smile. His lips curl at the ends in response and he sits back again, lighter now that you seemed to have forgiven him. “And Bruce? Thank you for saving Jason.” 

     Bruce lets out a self-deprecating chuckle and shakes his head in disagreement. “I didn’t-”

     “You did,” you tell him, firm in your conviction now. “You saved that little boy from a rough life on the streets. You helped him live again after he came back. You gave me the Jason Todd that I know and love today. So if you think that there’s anything I’ve done to save him, it’s only because you saved him enough first for him to get to me.” 

     Bruce stares at you for a minute, his expression unreadable. Then finally, he smiles. “You know, I guess my kids were right about you after all.” 

     And that was why you and Bruce got along so well, you would think to yourself any time Jason would ask you about it. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne, but he’d done the best he could to make sure that Jason Todd always stayed Jason Todd; that no matter how hard the world shoved him to the ground, no matter how strongly he believed there was nothing in him worth loving, the world needed Jason Todd. The world needed someone who would do the right thing, even when it was difficult - especially when it was difficult. You smile and ruffle Jason’s hair. 

     “Because Bruce Wayne has always been Bruce Wayne,” you tell him in response. Jason rolls his eyes at your usual vague answer, but his lips curl at the ends like they always do. He lies down, resting his head on your lap, and you stroke his hair softly as the two of you continue watching your movie.

So yeah! Those are my thoughts 🤔😋.

[madeofstardust17]

So what really bothers me about this season was how they reducer every single character to their most basic cliches, when in previous seasons they were so much more than that. Hear me out:

Luther was made into this happy-go-lucky, dumb himbo, when in reality, he's a guy who takes stuff seriously, who does his best to take care of everyone, and has emotional depth. They took that away from him. He's smart, even if they try to make it out like he isn't. They reduced him to just endless positivity and a pretty body (and even that they turned into a joke, giving him an ape body again and ignoring all his trauma related to that).

Diego was reduced to this useless, bitter, suburban dad, who thinks he's owed more than he has. In reality, he was so excited to be a dad. He's a good detective, he's empathetic, he has this sensitivity that he tries to hide but shines when he talks to others. More than anything, he's a provider, he thrives when he has someone to protect, to care for.

Allison has always been a badass, and a good mom. They made that shine, but she was so much more than that. She was complex, and endlessly optimistic, fighting for what was right. She was a good sister, and they made her bitter about that too.

Klaus was reduced to just humor, and not even well done. His little adventures used to mean something for him, and to the plot. They just made him a whore and did nothing for him. The only good thing I will say was that they took his addiction seriously for once. Still, he was useless to the plot, when once he was the key they were all missing.

Five. Oh my fucking God. They did him the most dirty. He would come off as aloof and uncaring, but underneath it, we all understood he loved his family more than anything, that he did everything in his power to protect them. They reduced him to that facade, they made him cold and selfish, willing to hurt his sibling just for his own personal gain.

With Ben, they spent the entire past season making him into this guy who was really rubbish at being the bad guy, who wanted a real family deep down. They reduced him to this asshole who spent the entire season swearing up and down that the umbrellas where not his family.

With Viktor, they tried to make him this cool, confident, independent (apparently womanizer?) dude who gave zero shits about his family. WHEN ALL HE EVER WANTED WAS HIS SIBLINGS' RESPECT. HE WANTED TO BE PART OF THE TEAM. And then they proceeded to make him work??? With his abusive dad???? Who suddenly cared???? And he ignored the rest of his siblings until the last possible minute.

Lila was always the cool, independent, secure woman, who didn't really need a man. They spent two seasons assuring us that she could be on her own just fine, but Diego completed her. He was the perfect person for her, bc he could give her what she craved, a family, people she could rely on. Instead on continuing that, finding a way to balance her family and a job (or something) to let her be something more than just a bored suburban mom, they made her into this insecure woman in her marriage, who just tosses it all aside for FIVE. Who is so incompatible with her that is not even funny.

If you've read this entire rant, congrats, you have my respect.