#he died never understanding what happened to him or why it was wrong and nobody helped him they just thought he was delusional

[ashironie]

reblogging bcs i have a lot of thoughts

i fucking HATED how Jon treated him s1, we also have to remember that before we see ANYTHING of Martin straight from the horses mouth, we see him from Jon’s pov. And Martin probably wasn’t very good at his job, but that’s reasonable since he transferred from the library to an archive, he most certainly didn’t expect to be in research 2.0. Martin has no clue how to do his job and he couldn’t let anyone know that because he wasn’t even supposed to be there. The reason i started liking Martin was because i hated Jon, and the reason i hated Jon was because he was mean to Martin. My thought process was thus; Jon’s an Ass to Martin for really no reason, so I’m going to like Martin to spite Jon

Now, i too sorta dislike s5 Martin, when i first listened i found him to be really whiny and kinda ungrateful. During my relisten a lot of the problems i had with him were lessened because i was just so unuse to this new Martin, and before, he would do everything I would, but now he was a lot different, which gave me whiplash. it’s like expecting the driver in a car to take a turn and then they just don’t, you can’t blame them but there’s a sense of wrongness in your stomach. Now again most of these problems i had were fixed when i relistened, knowing what was going to happen, and that was my main complaint with s5 in general, expecting a turn and the driver just keeps going straight

Now going back to s1 (since i realized i didn’t explain my point very well). When ever Jon talked about what Martin did it was heavily biased, and whenever we hear Martin talk it’s around Jon. Around the person he doesn’t want to get in trouble by. We heard in the beginning of s5 tapes that Sasha and Tim were a lot different then when being recorded in s1, so obviously Martin (with a more easily identifiable reason) would also be a lot different. Then when everything went down and he dropped the act a little, we do know he was still acting. The tapes we get in s3 before the Unknowing are the closest thing we get to him being genuine, and even still he doesn’t want to admit how much of an asshole he is.

Now it’s fine if you don’t like Martin, he’s specifically written as a very complex person, and that means that sometimes people just hate him for no reason. But I dislike the criticism that his personality was very touch and go, it’s just that we didn’t know what was actually going on in his head until end of s4 and s5.

Now my defense of why I like Martin is;

He has a very heavy faun response, which same, and that aspect makes him really interesting to me. Being manipulative and having a heavy faun response are the same, but are seen differently.

i detest the idea that he is never in the wrong or that he’s just a sweet cinnamon roll. Martin, early on, just follows the lead to anyone who makes it seem like they understand even a little, then does a full 180 into thinking he knows what’s right and wrong without any input from anyone. Then realizes that, he really doesn’t know, nobody does, and he still thinks he knows better more often than not, but he recognizes this in himself. There is no ends to anyone’s character arcs in TMA, they still grow and struggle with the same things, but they find new solutions and new problems. And i think all of that is really interesting! It adds to the tragedy, it’s fine if a character dies when they are finished atoning for whatever narrative sin they have be set up with, but it’s tragic when they never get to! They are told what they need to do, and try to do it, but die before they can. Sasha died before she could be anything but a memory, someone who almost just haunts the narrative. Tim died in a noble way, but ultimately pointless one, as we come to find out. He is still just as angry, and he still didn’t bring the two people he wanted to save back from the dead. He didn’t win, even if he and everyone else thought so. He could’ve healed, but he killed himself before he could. And Martin tries like hell to figure out how to listen to people without only listening to him, and he fails a lot, a LOT a lot. But he died before he could just relax. Jon was the same, he got too deep and thought that, with enough time, he could figure out a way, not out of the hole, but closer to the surface. And he would’ve, if given the time. But he was dragged back into the same bullshit by the same man and by the same fear.

sorry that one was a lot longer but yk.

Martin is also stubborn. He was endlessly patient with Jon early s5, and the idea that he’s impatient the rest of the season i disagree with. He is just very careful with what he gives his time, maybe a bit to careful, but again with him over-course correcting. But he is still very stubborn, which i feel like is a good word between perseverance and determination. He knows that they will find a way to get everyone safe, as much as possible. He is too patient to believe the easy answer, and too persistent to allow everyone else to settle for that either. He does dumb things sometimes, but when has a tma character not? but is still fiercely protective of his people and ideals. if not a bit misguided at times

I'll be so honest with y'all, I always thought Martin was written to be an intentionally dislikeable character (like s1 Jon) for like character development or something, and then I was even MORE sure of that by season 5, and then they just kinda never touched on it and the fandom was all obsessing over him and it's like?? What do y'all see in him unless you relate to him omg 😨

[get-more-bald]

the fuck do you mean I have to leave....

[himejoshiba]

cannot stand danganronpa fans theyre soooo classically tumblr. looking for fanart or insightful commentary is so painful. truly i am the only one who understands korekiyo nobody else gets or appreciates him

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 2

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

Definetly NSFW, Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, really bad self image, definitely not why one should cement the mating bond, Azriel is kinda an idiot who is so happy that he has found his mate that he doesn't question things

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Cilla wasn’t the name she was born with. 

She had no clue what name her mother would have picked for her if she hadn’t died. Maybe she had a name picked out before during her pregnancy. When she hadn’t known that Cilla would rip her apart from the inside out on her way into the world. Who knew? Not Cilla. 

Cilla wasn’t the name she was born with. 

Cilla wasn’t what she grew up being called. 

That ran the gamut of “half-breed abomination” to “bastard” to “useless bitch”. (And some more that she didn’t want to remember. Her grandmother had been quite inventive…though she would never forget the shrieks of “murderer”)

Cilla…Cilla was the name her shadows picked out for her. 

Cilla was a name she…used, because a name should be given to a baby by somebody that loved them, and the shadows were the only thing in her life that loved her. So Cilla it was. 

These shadows…they were the only thing keeping her alive these days. 

Had been, for years. 

She could still remember the day they had come to her…When she had laid in that tiny little attic, where she couldn’t even stand straight, her wings bound to her back…how they had come to her and had twirled around her…how they had started talking to her…so many voices at the start, until she had managed to pick out just one. 

They were hers. Hers and hers alone. 

And she had learned to hide them away, in the black curls of her hair, so that nobody could see them. 

Even after she had escaped that attic…after she had started working in the tannery. 

Her wings already set her apart. No need to add to that…the wings already made some people look at her like something was wrong with her, not helped by the pointy ears. 

She hated these wings. They had killed her mother. They were the reason for seemingly every single problem she had had. If she didn’t have them…if she didn’t have them, her mother would still be alive, and her grandmother wouldn’t have hated her and…

And still, after she had left that attic and these wings had no longer been bound to her back…after she had learned not to drag them over the floor because people stepped on them and that hurt and she had figured how to heft them up…After all of that…something inside her had suddenly starting to yearn to fly. 

She had no fucking clue where it had come from…if it was some…dormant…illyrian thing that had decided to rear its head. 

Cilla had refused for years. 

Even when the shadows had repeatedly assured her that it was fine…that nothing bad would happen if she did fly. 

Look, even the High Lord does it! the shadows had assured her. 

Good for him. His wings hadn’t killed anybody, probably. 

Until finally…finally, she had given in. Only to realise quite quickly that she had absolutely no talent for flying. But by then, Cilla was furious. These wings were useless and had murdered her mother. At the very least they could make her fly. 

And so when she finally had a half day at work…she tried again. And failed again. And tried again…and failed again…and tried again. 

She had been trying again that day…and had once again failed. 

When she plummeted towards the ground, her last thought with some amusement had been that if she died like that, what wild animal would rip apart her carcass? 

She wasn’t scared of death. Why should she? It couldn’t be worse than her life. She had spent so long fighting every day for simple survival…that she was often so very tired of it. If she died...it was fine. She didn't really care, to be honest. 

She had expected death. She had not expected to wake up, wrapped in warmth and blankets, the smell of cedars and cold and winter in her nose. It smelled so good that she wanted to roll around in it. 

“It’s alright,” a gentle voice told her. Dark, male…beautiful. She wanted to listen to whatever he said…even when she didn’t know him. Who was he? “Can you open your eyes for me, Cilla?” he requested and she forced one eye open.  “There you go. Good, Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Nobody ever called her sweetheart. Who was he? 

Her vision cleared. 

A male. Black hair, hazel eyes. She didn’t know him. Even hunkered down next to her…he was massive. If he wanted to hurt her, she was going to have absolutely no chance against him. None whatsoever. 

And then just as suddenly, something inside her snapped. She couldn’t explain it. She only knew that suddenly…her world narrowed down onto him and only him. 

He was…

She needed to touch him. She didn’t know why, she only knew that she needed to touch him. 

One hand reached out…and then was caught by shadows. 

But it wasn’t her shadows. Weren’t…

His shadows, Cilla’s shadows whispered. His shadows? 

He had shadows? He had…She wasn’t…She had never met another fae that had…shadows that talked to them like she did. But then she had also never mentioned it to another person…hadn’t dared. She had expected somebody else to tell her that she was insane, not quite right in the head…

“You…You’re just like me,” Cilla whispered, her voice breaking. 

He was like her. She had never met another who was like her. There were only rarely fairies that she met that had her wings, or something similar to it. Half Ilyrian, one of the female in the tannery had sneered at her. Better than Lesser Bred Mogrel as her grandmother had used to say. 

She hadn’t thought that she ever would find somebody that was like her. 

“I am,” he agreed softly, mustering her with hazel green eyes. 

He promised not to hurt you. His shadows voiched for him, her shadows cooed softly. He’s safe, we swear. 

Safe? 

She never had anybody that was safe. She never had anybody who…who wanted her around…who…

He’s your mate, Cilla, her shadows told her drily. That’s what you felt snap. It’s the Mating Bond. 

Wha…What? 

“Mate?” she breathed out, staring at the male before her. He was her mate? Her mate? 

A jerky nod came from him as he watched her, hesitantly. Like he imagined she would try to take off his head for this. Even when all Cilla wanted was to wrap herself around him and never let go. 

Mate. Her mate. 

She couldn’t stop herself from throwing herself at him and he caught her, pulling her against a broad and solid chest, a chuckle coming from him, the sound beautiful.

“I am your mate,” he agreed with her, as he cradled her in his arms and she pressed her face against his chest, breathing cedar and morning mist and him. 

Safe, her shadows cooed and she relaxed against him. 

Mate. Her mate. 

He pressed his lips against her hair and she curled her hands in the shirt he wore, even as he shifted. 

“Let’s get you back under the blankets. You are still icy,“ he said softly.

She just clung tighter to him, unwilling to let him go. 

He seemed to read her mind as he shifted both of them, tucking a heap of blankets around her.

“Shhh, I won’t go anywhere, sweetheart,“ he shushed her. “Nothing could get me away from you right now,“ he promised her and she couldn’t help but tremble against him. 

“What…” she whispered, hesitating. Of course, Cilla hesitated. She had every reason to be wary, even with her shadow’s promise…even with the Mating Bond between them…

He was…he was so happy. So pleased. She could nearly taste how happy he was about her. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time anybody was happy to see her.  

“You can ask me anything,” he promised her immediately, fiercely. “Anything.”

“What’s your name?” Cilla dared to ask, as he tucked the blankets tighter around her, still letting her rest against his chest, letting her hide her head there. No reason to face him. Not like that. 

“Azriel. My name is Azriel,” he answered, his voice soft. “Your shadows said your name is Cilla?”

She managed a shaky nod, just as one broad hand gently tipped up her chin and she watched hazel eyes as he probed around her temple. She couldn’t help but flinch against his hands, feeling tenderness. 

“How is your head?” he asked her.  “You hit it against a rock when you fell down.” His hand once again came into her field of vision. Only then die she realise…His hands were…scarred. Horribly scarred. Looking worse than even her back did. 

“Fine. Doesn’t hurt,” she managed to bring out, her voice still hoarse. 

He fixed her with a look, his gaze serious, even as that scarred hand came up to cup her cheek, shaking slightly, and she leaned into his touch…leaned into his warmth. 

“Just tender?” he checked and she nodded. But even that…if Cilla could have his thumb smooth over her cheekbone like he did…she would gladly take that. 

“I never thought I would get to meet you,” Azriel said softly. 

She swallowed. 

“I always thought mates were for better people than me,” Cilla admitted. Not her. Not with the kind of taint that had covered her since the day she had been born. She didn’t think that she was good enough to deserve a mate. To deserve him. 

To deserve a male that was so gentle with her, so kind. 

Azriel’s face crumbled, as he crushed her against his chest and she breathed in his scent, calming something deep, deep inside her. 

She really would give everything to roll around in his scent. 

Like this, she did the next best thing and buried her nose in the crook of his neck, right next to where she could feel his heartbeat and his blood rush underneath his skin. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Azriel choked out as he held her, arms wrapped around her. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

Worry about what? About her not deserving him? 

But these thoughts fled her head anyway…when she dragged in another breath and his scent enveloped her. 

Safe. All about his scent made her feel safe. Safe and taken care off. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt like that. Had she ever felt like that? 

No, the shadows whispered. He’s your mate. His instincts are primed. If you’ll let him, he’ll take care off you. 

“Will you…will you stay with me?” Cilla asked him, hating how childish her voice sounded to her own ears, how it shook. But she didn’t want him to leave her. Didn’t want him to leave her alone and go away and…

“I’ll stay with you until you tell me to go away,” he promised her, and something inside Cilla eased at that. 

He would be there, with her…and she could feel…safe. 

She felt the warmth his body seemingly radiated just for her and pressed even tighter to his chest, in response, still breathing in his scent. It was nearly drugging her, that scent…making tension leave her body, made that always present knot in her stomach unfurl…He dipped his head down to her forehead, pressing his lips to it. Cilla needed a moment to parse it until she understood that he was kissing her. 

Food. She was supposed to give him food. Right? That's what she was supposed to be once she found her mate. 

You’ll trigger the Mating Frenzy, the shadows warned her. She knew that. Well, kinda. 

Cilla didn’t care. Even when her knowledge of what exactly happened during it was…fragmented. Nobody had ever talked to her about it and she had nobody to ask, so all she knew was the stuff that she had…snapped up. 

She still hadn’t figured out what her landlord meant when he told her that she could earn the rest of her rent on her knees though. 

You will never take him up on that, her shadows hissed.  

She wasn’t planning on that. That glint of something in her landlord's eyes as he had said it had scared her. 

You’ll trigger the Mating Frenzy and your mate will be pushed to consummate the Mating Bond, her shadows said quickly. He’ll…fuck you. 

Fuck her. 

Not that she had much experience with that either. Though if some of the conversations she had overheard meant anything, it was seemingly everybody’s favourite pastime. 

So it couldn’t be that bad, right? 

She didn’t think he would be outright cruel to her. He touched her with more gentleness than she ever had anybody else touch her…

And if it meant that he would stay with her forever, then…

Food, she needed food. 

It wasn’t her shadows that pressed a dry cracker in her hand…it was his. Somehow she knew that. They looked identical, but somehow Cilla still knew. 

Still, she took that cracker, as she sat up slightly, his arms immediately loosening around hers. She lifted it to his mouth. “Eat?” she requested, her voice shaking. She half expected him to turn her down, to laugh at her even thinking that he wanted to bind himself to her…

Instead, his eyes widened and he stared at her in wonder. 

“Are you…are you sure?” he asked her, his voice hoarse. 

She nodded. 

Yes, she was sure. 

Sure, because for the first time in her life, there was somebody there that wanted her. 

He ate. 

A dam broke. 

When before that thread that connected them had felt fledgling and like she could ignore his feelings, far removed from her… Suddenly it roared to life. 

that dam broke and all she could do was to cling to him as he pressed his lips to her forehead again and she breathed in his scent…as want and need and adoration and a thousand other things were warring inside her, desperation clawing up her throat. 

He tipped up her chin, his hands still so incredibly gently on her body, before he fit his mouth over hers. 

She gasped into his kiss, her mouth opening on her own accord and suddenly his tongue was licking inside her mouth, and a shiver broke out all over her skin. 

It made him pull back immediately, his pupils wide open, staring at her. 

“Get back underneath the blankets, Sweetheart,” he told her, his voice gravelling, brokering absolutely no argument. 

He fit himself underneath them with her… her legs opening so that he could fit himself between them until she was bracketed by warmth until all she could see in her nearer vicinity was him and only him.

Cilla had never loved anything more. 

She lifted her head in invitation and he kissed her again. 

Was this…all he wanted?

Apparently not. 

Only then she realised that she was no longer wearing her dress. He must have undressed her, gotten her out of her drenched clothing and then covered her back up with a shirt that was his…just that now it shredded underneath his hands and he pressed another kiss against her lips…nearly apologetic. 

She couldn’t care less, because she was quite sure that she had already shredded his shirt as well, where she had fisted her hands into it. 

And then Azriel kissed her mouth again and all thoughts fled Cilla’s brain anyway, desperation settling inside her brain. 

His broad hands soothed down her body, touching her gently and soft and never painful. 

Nothing hurt, nothing ever even threatened to hurt…not even when one hand slipped to the apex of her thighs, petting her there, nearly leisurely. 

She had never felt anything that made her feel like these fingers made her feel. 

Something inside her twisted as they brushed against the hot seam of hers…when they pressed very gently upwards, until they found that little nub. A full-body shiver wrecked through her, and he swallowed her noises. 

And then, so very gently, he drew a single finger over the membrane of her wing. 

She was used to rough touches if any. Was used to pain and jerking…was definitely not used to a whisper-soft touch. 

Cilla didn’t understand what happened. Didn’t understand what he did to her, before her whole body already seized, her inside clenching and throbbing. She had never felt anything like this before. 

She whimpered into his mouth, her back arching, his mouth slipping down to her neck, pressing kisses there as she shook underneath him. 

“Cauldron, you are gorgeous when you come,” he whispered. 

Come? 

Your pleasure, the shadows whispered. 

Oh. 

She didn’t even get to say anything before he eased one thick finger inside her. 

“Oh gods,” she choked out, suddenly feeling so…so full. 

So utterly and… completely his. 

Still, she wanted to be the one to make sure that he felt just like she did. 

“What about you?” she asked him, her voice thin and reedy, punctuated by a gasp. 

Azriel chuckled softly, just as he crooked his finger just so and she trembled again. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he promised her, catching her mouth with his and she hungrily kissed him. Cilla clung to him, completely ruining his shirt in her quest to feel his naked skin against hers, and he pulled it over his head with an impatient growl, fitting her skin against hers, making her shiver with something that definitely wasn’t the cold. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, not even sure for what exactly she was even asking.

“You have me.” He promised her, pressing another kiss against her mouth, licking into it, tangling with hers. 

She wasn’t even sure when exactly he had lost his trousers, just that suddenly the thick blunt head of his prick notched against her and before she could even start to be scared, pressed inside her. 

Gods. 

The sound that escaped her was a high whine, her back arching against him, suddenly…finally, filled by him. 

And then he stopped, filling her up only slightly and she protested with a wiggle of her hips. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re bleeding,” he cursed, and she blinked open her eyes to watch realisation settle on him. “You…have you done this before?”  Azriel asked her, still holding her hips tightly, stopping her from further pressing him inside her.  “Have you had sex before, Cilla?”

She just shook her head. 

“Gods, Sweetheart, why didn’t you say something?” Azriel asked her, desperation settling into his voice. 

“Does it matter?” Cilla asked him, her voice shaking. Did it matter to him? She hadn't even really thought about it. She had just wanted...she had just needed to feel him as close to her as she possible good, she had just wanted to cement their mating bond, she had wanted...

“Just…I would have eased you into it,” Azriel protested, as he dropped his head to hers. “We could have…taken it slower.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

He wasn't...angry? He just wanted...had just wanted to make it easier for her?

She didn't know what to say to that. She didn't know what to...

“You did,” she finally disagreed, letting one hand slip over his back, pulling him closer to her, and he went, pressing soft kisses all over her face. 

“Not like I would have,” he sighed. “Does it hurt badly?” he asked her, still peppering kisses over her face. "Do you want to stop?"

“It doesn’t hurt,” she promised him. Her muscles ached, the stretch clearly not something she was used to, but it didn’t hurt.  There was no pain. Actually, Cilla quite liked the feeling of him lodged inside her. "And I don't want to stop." 

She really didn't. Cilla tried to move her hips, rocking back down against him, and Azriel let her, pressing one soft kiss against her unresisting lips. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised her softly. There was nothing he needed to make up to her…but she wasn’t going to start protesting because she wanted him inside her, and she wanted him inside her now. 

And then, he pushed deeper and she shivered once again, shifting her legs so that she could wrap them around him properly. 

One moment later, his thumb was back on that little nub of flesh at the apex of her thighs and she quivered. 

She wrapped her arms around him, clinging onto her mate with everything she had. 

He was inside her, surrounding her, everywhere and Cilla…Cilla felt safe. 

For once in her life, she felt safe and let somebody else take care off her. 

He was touching her like it was a privilege. 

She had never thought that…that any male would touch her like that. Ever. 

But Azriel did. Azriel thrust inside her slowly, with gentle rolls of her hips, so carefully not to hurt her, not to use his strength against her. 

Azriel guided her gently, making it easy for her to feel the rhythm and reciprocate…touched her until that shivery feeling from before returned…until she could feel herself clenching around him, her head thrown back with her moans, her back arching as it felt like her whole body was climbing higher and higher towards her release.

And then finally…finally she reached her peak, with a whimper. 

Cilla took a page out of Azriel’s book, reaching out for one of his broad massive wings and brushed her fingers against the warm skin. A ragged groan came from Azriel and she felt something hot coat her insides.

He didn’t pull back, didn’t move out of her grasp…the only thing he did was to roll them so they were on their sides, not wanting to squash her with his weight. 

One wing came over her, wrapping her up, right there against his chest, curled into the warm, comfortable bed, her head tucked against him…He pressed kisses to her face and her neck and her shoulder, everywhere he could reach. 

Safe. 

She was safe. 

Safe and cherished.

[casscainmainly]

I think the recent Cass and Jason discussion is very interesting bc like, Jason or even steph in her first appearance take these actions of righteous, murderous (or near murderous) justice bc of the fact that not only have they've been abused, but they're also able to recognise that fact, and feel that despite everything, they didn't deserve to suffer like that (Jason with his murder, Steph with her childhood abuse)

Whereas Cass struggles for most of her series to recognise that she was abused and struggles to properly resent her abuser on the grounds that she didn't deserve it. She resents David for being a killer and making her love him, for making her a killer, but rarely for the actual abuse that came with her training. She eventually recognises it right before the end of pre-52 in batgirl 2008, but not after a long time, and she still tries to save David at the very end after contemplating letting him die.

she does grows to resent Bruce after some time, and confronts him, showing that she's slowly gaining higher expectations for how she should be treated after developing relationships outside the batfamily (coincidentally with Steph, someone who can relate over having a shitty dad, along with her love interests like Kon and Tai)- though Bruce, despite his multitudes of bad parenting moments never truly abuses cass like david did, so there's nuance, and after her fight with bruce, she still has trouble fully reckoning with her abuse (still calls david shooting her 'a game' in front of tim- she knows its wrong but still doesn't act upset about the fact it happened to her).

She kind of sees all the training she went through as a necessary evil in order to have the skills to be a hero- which is somewhat true, but I think it also contributes to her being unable to see herself, even partially, as a victim for large portions of her narrative.

She can understand abuse as something that molds you into a killer, she can't understand being abused and then choosing to be a killer bc of the righteous fury you have at what happened. In Cass' mind her abuse is synonymous with killing. That's the worst thing Cain ever did to her and the reason she ran away. She can't understand someone like Jason choosing it as a way to cope/deal with abuse.

I don't think this is necessarily a ground breaking thought but I think abuse is an interesting lense to look at both Jason and Cass' stories- pre52, Jason's story is about continuing a cycle of abuse. Criminals hurt him, he hurts criminals, and anyone who gets in his way of hurting the criminals, bc even tho he pursues justice, he also pursues retribution, which is hard to do justly. Between that and the whole zombie/living ghost thing, it's downright gothic. Whereas Cass' story is about breaking out of a cycle of abuse- nobody dies bc she let one person die and will never let it happen again. It's just an interesting way to view their differences I think. Good Cass and Jason posts recently!

I LOVE THIS!! I absolutely think abuse informs the way Jay and Cass see the world (and Steph - Steph, in many ways, is the median point between Jason and Cass).

It's the fundamental question that drives Jason and Cass apart. For Cass, her question is: how can I be the victim if I'm the villain? And for Jason, the question is more: how can I be the villain if I'm the victim?

I love this line: "Cass struggles for most of her series to recognise that she was abused and struggles to properly resent her abuser on the grounds that she didn't deserve it." This is doubly complicated by the genuine love David Cain had for her - that panel of them watching the stars kills me every time. This is another key difference between Jason and Cass' abuse (taking Jason's abuse to be his death) - Jason had no love for the Joker, but Cass did love David Cain.

It's why it's so easy for Jason to want to kill the Joker, and so hard for Cass to even be angry at her father. And your point here - "In Cass' mind her abuse is synonymous with killing" - is absolutely on point, because Jason's conception of abuse is the helplessness of being murdered. They are both acting in ways to prevent what abuse means in their minds: as Batgirl, Cass will never have to kill again, and as Red Hood, Jason will never have to be helpless in the face of murderers again.

Any rebuke of their moral codes feels like a denial of the abuse they suffered. It's why Cass can't allow others to kill, and why Jason can't accept Bruce's reasoning for not killing the Joker. It's why these versions of them could never get along. Argh there's been such good Cass and Jason commentary recently, they drive me insane!!!

[david-talks-sw]

I was watching the Clone Wars featurette about the Holocron arc and Dave talks about the scene where Bane threatens to kill Ahsoka. He says "we're seeing a dark side of Anakin, and in a very clear illustration of why Jedi should not have attachments, we see that attachment get exploited." So clearly at what point in time he understood the whole attachment thing. What happened?

Unlike Karen Traviss, I think Dave Filoni actually understands what "attachment" means, in Star Wars. Apparently, it's the Star Wars theme that he and George spoke the most about.

"The biggest area of the Force and the Jedi [that] George and I have gotten into discussing the whole deal with attachments. And, arguably, that's what Anakin whole life is hinged on, is this - like you've mentioned - he has a lot of attachments to Artoo and how how right or wrong is that? Is it that the Jedi have made themselves dispassionate, that they are actually deceived by the Sith and they fall apart?" - Dave Filoni, Rebel Force Radio, 2012

What I've noticed is that, while understanding the meaning of attachment... Filoni doesn't seem to agree that the Jedi embody the concept of compassion.

He has acknowledged sometimes that "attachment is bad" is the theme of Anakin's story (but question if it's really so bad, unlike Lucas who says it's understandable but bad) but disagrees that the Prequel Jedi represent the obvious counter-theme, "compassion is good."

If you read what Filoni says, he argues that:

The Jedi have lost their way, taken the "rid yourself of attachment" rule and pushed it to an extreme where they've rid themselves of any empathy and thus compassion. They've focused so much on being selfless that they've forgotten how to love.

All except for Qui-Gon, who is the only one that truly knows how to love without getting attached, to love selflessly.

And personally, that strikes me as a coping headcanon, a way of reconciling the theme and feeling the Jedi like Mace, Ki-Adi, even Yoda and Obi-Wan are stoic, unlikable and too different from Luke.

Sure, they're not perfect, but nowhere in the films is the Jedi's stance on love framed as "bad" by the narrative. The narrative agrees with their philosophy, and George echoes it.

In fact, among 772 collected George Lucas quotes, I've never seen him state that theme while adding the asterisk that "of course, the Jedi of the Prequels have forgotten how to be compassionate, except for Qui-Gon who was the true Jedi."

And of course he doesn't do that. Because doesn't that muddy the waters so much?

Supposing Qui-Gon truly is the only character that embodies the concept of "compassion"... doesn't killing him off in the first film confuse a targeted audience of children?

Bearing in mind that the Prequels are about how greed makes people and institutions become the very thing they swear to destroy, and Star Wars as a whole is about being selfless instead of selfish:

In one corner, we have Anakin and the Senate showing what you're not supposed to do.

In the other, you got Padmé, Shmi and the Jedi, showing you what you should do instead.

Simple. I can see a kid getting this (and I did). But according to Filoni, that second point is incorrect. Instead, it's:

In the other, we have... Qui-Gon, who is one of the first film's four protagonists that dies at the end, without openly stating anything about the trilogy's theme. Theoretically, there's the Jedi who state and address the theme, but they don't themselves embody it so they don't count. So really... in this corner we have nobody (?)

That seems overly complex, a whole lotta hoops to jump through. Doesn't make sense. But hey, good luck learning the lesson, kids.

So yeah, Dave Filoni gets what attachment means. He just doesn't think it's as bad as Lucas' films frame it as, and disagrees on the Jedi narratively embodying the concept of compassion.

And I think it's coping. It's connecting non-existent dots, Always Sunny-style, to justify not liking characters that weren't meant to be developed much, due to their calm, collected nature and secondary/tertiary role in the story.

Coping and coming up with headcanons are what any irritated Star Wars fan does when they're confronted with something they're unable to make sense of.

“I care because I passionately believe that important stories ought to make sense.” As well you should—and when a story does not, you apply that passion to finding a way to make it make sense. [...] When a rational and inquisitive mind is confronted by the engaging yet irrational, it often responds in this manner. This process is not usually appreciated by those undergoing it; the most common reaction is a deep irritation. But isn’t that always how pearls are formed?” - Don DeBrandt, Star Wars on Trial, 2006

Unless they choose to make documentaries and click-baity YouTube video where they decide to spew hate and get angry pointlessly. Which I'd argue is still worse.

[mirohlayo]

ALWAYS | CL16

inspired by the song always - daniel caesar

( charles and you broke up 6 months ago. but no matter what, he'll still love you forever. )

warning : sad, angst, heartbreaking (i'm sorry for that 💔)

word count : 1.7k

!! english not my first language !!

it still hurts. time passes but the memories remains. they remain profoundly anchored in his heart, in his head, and every day he hopes these tender and precious memories will never fade away.

maybe he's wrong for thinking like that. maybe he's wrong for losing his head over you.

maybe if time elapses rapidly, maybe if enough time passes, he will see you again. and you both will laugh together, heart fulfills with joy, never forgetting how much you were made for each other.

and he knows deep inside that he can't deny it. that there'll always be, no matter what happens, a place for you by his side, this same place that you sorrowfully left six months ago. this place will always be reserved for you, because he promised it to you, because he finally knows nobody will never occupy it the way you did.

laboriously lying down on his bed, charles closes his eyes. the moon softly shines in the nocturnal sky, skimming his hollow cheekbones. the light dimly illuminates his dark circles under his eyes, as if it had been an eternity since he last tasted a peaceful sleep.

it's night. and for those last six months, he found comfort in nighttime. because there is this quiet atmosphere, not a single noise disturbs him, apart from the unremitting sounds of the cars' motors which turn around his monaco building. he feels alone there, and that perfectly contrasts with this sensation you caused him since your departure. he terribly feels abandoned, lost and alone. like the moon is neglected among the billions of stars behind her.

and he closes his eyes. he wants to sleep. he wants to dream. he wants to dream about her, maybe to forget or maybe to remember. but he definitely doesn't do it on purpose, sometimes he dreams about you. because maybe that's what the night is for : arrange to meet the ones we love.

because he truly loved you. genuinely and profoundly. he fell very hard for you. and that since he first laid eyes on you. his heart rose when he saw you, his cheeks became hot when you smiled to him. his eyes were full of love and affection. it was as if he laid eyes on the most beautiful thing. and it was you.

his heart, his soul never stopped to love you. his body burns of love and desire for you, and all his being beg you to come back to him, to tell him everything will settle. because his poor heart awfully suffers, and every day he dies a little more remembering why you're no longer his anymore.

he loves you infinitely. never no one has ever been able to fill him with so much passion. he knows he truly loves you, from deep inside. he loves you for a thousand and one reasons, but mainly for the one he doesn't understand.

pretty lady. he liked to call you like this, even though sometimes you thought it was silly. but he knew you actually loved this surname, so he never missed an occasion to make you feel special.

so with his pretty lady, he used to walk down the streets. hand in hand, maybe shared earphones, and above all your love for each other. you walked slowly in monaco's streets, until he begged you to let him buy you a gift. buying you anything, as long as you were happy, it was the main thing. even though his bank account was empty afterward. but it was okay.

and he still remembers the fussing, the fighting, the fucking and the lying. most of the time, it was you getting mad at him for buying expensive stuff for your simple person. but sometimes, it was more an underlying and painful reason. but you always ended up reconciled, because neither could stay apart for too long. it was like that.

except last time, there wasn't a reconciliation. you left each other, teared apart and frightfully hurt. none returned to the other. and that haunt charles for way too long now.

maybe he's wrong for thinking like that. maybe he's wrong for losing his head over you.

he's fed up. he opens his eyes, and in just a fraction of a second, he's already dressed in a coat and in a scarf. he needs to get some air, he needs to think about something else.

was it by going to the cafe you always went to that he would really think of something other than you? no, certainly not. but he needs it, it's stronger than him. he pushes the door and immediately orders a warm drink.

and then he takes a sit in a secluded corner. he doesn't want to be seen, but from his spot, he can catch sight of every person present. a waiter comes to bring him his drink. he thanks him with a fragile smile. it's been a long time since he smiled brightly, like he always did with only you.

he takes one sip. two sips. it's warm, and it comforts him. because it reminds him of the soothing warmth you gave him when you used to hold him tight. and it comforts him as much as it grieves him. and the deeper the sorrow digs into his being, the more joy he will be able to contain.

and maybe this joy finally weaves in his heart. this joy which suddenly explodes at the view in front of him. he can't believe it. you push the cafe's door, a silly smile on your lips as a deep laugh echoes in the air. soon, charles' happiness transforms in bitterness and pain.

he knows it. he knows it dawn well. you moved on. you're no longer his anymore. you don't belong with him anymore. but with this new man who seems to fill you with happiness like he did with you before. his heart squeezes when you take the hand of your new boyfriend, dragging him to a table not far from charles' one.

you look so happy. your big smile warms his heart, but it cools down instantly when he remembers your smile isn't meant for him. no, it will never be intended for him again. and it hurts him terribly.

the same waiter brings you your drink, which you obviously had to share with the man that charles already hates with all his being. but on the one hand, he couldn't stop your man being better than him. he must accept his fate, he must accept that this man is the new chapter of your life. and that he only remains as a page that you have difficultly turned.

but he doesn't want. he still wants to have hope. he still wants to hold onto you, because he tells himself maybe one day everything will return to the way it was before. he prays for this day to comes, whatever fate does.

so he just doesn't care. he doesn't care if you're with somebody else. because he'll give you time and space to hopefully bring you back. he still hopes every day, because he wants you to know he's just not a phase. and that he never was one.

so, it's selfish, but he disregards the man who is sitting in front of you and back to him. he has a perfect view on your face. and he imagines only you and him, on a date, face to face. he imagines that the smile glues to your face is addressed to him, that all the sentences that come out of your mouth give him the impression that he is your confidant again. even if it's not the reality.

because one of the hardest battles we fight in life is the fight between the mind that knows the truth and the heart that refuses to accept it.

the more he looks at you, the more you pleasantly disconcert him. the more he closed his eyes, the more he missed you. and it wasn't good. it became suffocating. so he had to leave. leave the café, but not you. even though he knows he'll never have a second chance, he'll continue to hold onto you and to love you.

you had left to the bathroom. so he took the opportunity to leave the place. and leaving something behind for you.

you come back to your table, excusing yourself to your boyfriend for taking too much time. you keep talking with him, but the waiter just now approaches you. he points to a table lost at the back of the cafe, a cup of coffee still left on it and, a gray scarf.

a scarf which you perfectly recognize. gray and soft. made by cotton. a scarf you offered to your first love, the one you loved dearly for one year, the one you haven't seen since six months now.

"the man who was sitting here left. but he said this scarf was for you." the waiter says to you before getting back to the counter. you gently thanks him, and you try to avoid the questioning look of your boyfriend.

you desperately look to see if he's still here, if he's still present in the cafe. or in the street. because either you can't deny it, a piece of your heart still beats for charles. but nothing, nobody's around.

and meanwhile, charles leaves the street corner where the cafe is located. he returns to his apartment, alone again and perhaps even more hurt than before.

he left his scarf - no scratch that - he left you his scarf. maybe he did it on purpose to abandon a part of you, to pass on to you what belongs to you. to start forgetting about you. or just merely for you to remember him for ever, that every time you'll see this scarf his face will appears in your mind, and you'll be able to smell his cologne.

he thinks about you once again. in your pretty coat, your pretty hairstyle, and of course this man by your side. peacefully drinking your hot drink. he curses himself for not being the one to share your hot chocolate. your favorite drink that he knows you ordered tonight.

but it's okay. he knows it, he deny it.

it's all fine, you'll always be his. forever and ever, always.

always, you can count on him sure as the stars in the sky. always, you can count on him as sure that the sun will rise. always, his love for you ain't going nowhere.

always, he will be here.

for you. forever.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hi there!

I have been looking in vain for fics with Non-verbal Dean or Castiel. I've read a couple but haven't been able to find anymore and the tagging system only seems to give me junk results not actually related to that.

Thank in advance for your help!

Hey! Here are a few fics we could think of:

All Cats Are Gray After Dark by squirrelofcelestialintent (Explicit, 19k words)

1992, NYC. Dean is a Gulf War veteran working in the grimiest ER in the city, and he’s holding his life together. Kind of? Maybe. But he’s got secrets. No one at work knows that he’s not physically mute due to a war injury, but rather selectively mute from way back in the day, because that is almost impossible to explain. Nobody but Sam knows he’s a rare, male Omega, and the discovery of that secret was why he got kicked out of the army. And nobody, absolutely nobody, knows that he occasionally sneaks out to have anonymous sex with men. Until he meets Castiel freaking Novack - anonymous hook up turned new boss - who in less than a month manages to find out all three.

Casicorn by everandanon (Explicit, 56k words)

When Detective Dean Winchester suddenly finds himself with a new roommate, a mysterious man who doesn’t speak but seems to somehow be connected to the department’s recent vigilante problem, he has no idea what he’s in for. The guy doesn’t know how to work a TV, brush his teeth, or even take a shower, and he stares at Dean all the goddamn time. Not to mention he insists on sleeping in Dean’s bed. While Dean is in it! Weird, right? Except the longer Cas sticks around, the less Dean starts to mind; the more he kind of dreads Cas leaving for good, actually, even though nobody really knows who Cas is or where he came from. And then, one night, Dean happens to witness their vigilante firsthand and realizes he knows Cas even less than he thought . . . (Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid)

Finding You In Every Sign by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 99k words)

Castiel was content with the constant flow of his life. He had his brother Gabriel, had his coffee shop and the weekly book club meetings as well as a small but solid group of friends. If there was one thing his hateful family had taught him, it was how fast things could go wrong if he let too many variables shape his life. So when he met Dean, a gradual regular at his shop, Castiel knew he was trouble, because Dean was like a comet, beautiful but beyond reach. Ever since his father died, there wasn’t a single constant in Dean’s life. Moving on, never stopping, never getting attached to one thing for too long had made him a drifter for the past seven years. Being the only hearing person in his family hadn’t been easy with a father like John Winchester, so as soon as Dean saw an escape, he took it. Settling down to open his flower shop was anything but easy, especially when he met the elusive deaf owner of the coffee shop next door. The more he discovered about Cas, the louder the voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe Castiel was the person finally worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe, Dean was willing to listen now.

Hear You Me by through_shadows_falling (Explicit, 84k words)

Castiel is a college graduate stuck in two dead-end, part-time jobs. Oh, and he’s Deaf…which to his oldest brother Michael makes him something to constantly fret over. It’s not Castiel’s fault that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, right? Not like it’s Michael’s business anyways. Enter Dean Winchester. A chance encounter with the man has the power to change Castiel’s life - and in the end, maybe, just maybe, it will help him finally understand and accept who he is and what he’s meant to do.

i saw the light by LoversAntiquities (Mature, 14k words)

“Sam, you gotta hear about this ghost story I found the other day,” Susanne says over the speakerphone, just as loud as she has been for the last half hour. For the most part, Castiel ignores her—or tries—and concentrates on the beads dangling from between his fingers, centerpiece pressed to his forehead. Praying doesn’t work, but some mornings, when the coffee doesn’t get him going and the walls feel more like a prison than a home, he sits at the library table and whispers empty words into the crucifix, like Jesus can ease the festering ache in his chest. He can’t—no one else can either.

late july by thanks_tacos (Explicit, 26k words)

'I would like to take in your most abused one,' Castiel says, looking at the rows of doors in the yellow corridor. 'Give him a good home.' After his accident, Castiel needs someone to help him around the small brick house he lives in and the bookstore he owns. So, he adopts Dean; an omega who barely survived being dumped in a ditch and left for dead. Dean doesn't talk, but that's fine; they learn to live together in the quaint, rainy city surrounded by a green forest. Castiel just wants to give Dean a peaceful life he deserves, and maybe also - become his mate?

Looking for a Sign by emwebb17 (Mature, 70k words)

Dean can't figure out why the hot guy on the train is ignoring him…that is until he realizes that the man is profoundly deaf. After an unpleasant misunderstanding, the two become friends. It isn't long before Dean wants more, but Castiel sticks steadfastly to his rule about not dating hearing people. When Dean starts to date other people to try to get over him, Castiel starts to wonder if maybe Dean is the exception to the rule.

No Words by Ltleflrt (Explicit, 112k words)

On the run from his very powerful family, Castiel does his best to get lost. Because if he doesn’t know where he is, his brothers won’t be able to find him very easily either. He ends up in Silverton, a small mountain town nestled deep within the Rocky Mountains where he meets Dean Winchester, a very beautiful and very grumpy omega.

sunflower by unicornpoe (Teen and up, 4k)

Castiel comes home on a Sunday.

Still Waters Run Deep by thisisapaige (Explicit, 41k words)

In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak. It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood. In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate. Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

The Hanged Man by orphan_account (Mature, 87k words)

After Park Ranger Cas Novak saves a mysterious stranger named Dean from an attempted murder in the woods, he finds himself drawn into the man's secretive life. Someone tried to kill Dean, but he's not telling who. In fact, he's barely speaking at all. If he's going to have any hope of helping Dean, Cas will have to convince the man to trust him — all while trying not to fall in love with him along the way.

We also have a mute tag with more fics like these. Also if you search for 'selectively mute dean' or 'mute dean' (or cas if you prefer cas) on ao3 you might get lucky as well.

[navnae]

No because let’s figure this out, I just saw a tiktok about how Steve threw his shirt at Eddie when he clearly could’ve thrown it on floor of the boat, or give it to Robin or Nancy but decided to give it to Eddie instead.

This is what makes Steve and Eddie’s relationship so complex because on the outside we’re supposed to get the vibe of them not liking each other but then they turn around and do shit like this.

Steve reaching for the walkie talkie when he hears Eddie’s voice then immediately taking charge to find him, Eddie invading Steve’s personal space whenever he got the chance, genuine happiness and softness around each other, Steve telling Eddie not to be so hard on himself, the stolen glances done when nobody else is looking, both of them having rough experiences with family but making sure that their the best role models for Dustin, when Steve asked about what car Eddie didn’t shut him down with a slick remark when he easily could’ve because that’s what everyone does to Steve but shockingly his “rival” didn’t, the flirty gestures towards each other, then with their final moments Eddie made it his MISSION to call out only to Steve once he realized that they were separating and this was probably going to be the last time he’s ever going to say anything to Steve again.

Lastly Steve being hesitant to look at the board that had Eddie’s photo on it after everything that happened. It was obvious he wanted to look but kept his head at this angle instead of just looking. We never got to see what Steve’s initial reaction was when Eddie died but I like to think that it was a heavy feeling in his chest knowing that he was gone. Part of it was feeling bad for Dustin knowing how important Eddie was to him but he started to realize he developed these feelings for him that Steve thought were for Nancy because that’s what felt right at the time. Steve got it wrong and he hates that he didn’t get to tell Eddie how he really felt about him when he had the chance.

Their story could’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened in season for if it was written better and more risks were taken. Steve deserved his self discovery storyline when he started having trouble with women and later on he could’ve realized maybe it because he’s tire of the same thing, that’s when Eddie comes in. Eddie is different from anything Steve is used to in many different ways which is why they would’ve been perfect (opposites attract). Then Eddie’s story could’ve been taking Steve’s advice and giving himself some slack but still feeling like he didn’t need to run, Steve would be the one to tell him that running away doesn’t define him in the slightest. Eddie never thought he would take anything that Steve Harrington says but here he was listening to him like his life depended on it.

In the end they were perfect for each other, going from “hanging out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, yeah I’ll pass.” “I wouldn’t save your ass under different circumstances.” (I can’t remember how he said it but you get the point) then going to “Eddie’s a wanted man we can’t just go for a hike in the woods.” “I couldn’t grasp the fact that Steve Harrington, is actually a good dude.”

I don’t understand how people think that they couldn’t work when they were written this way with so many moments between them even small ones that are too quick if you blink you’ll miss it. Steve and Eddie deserved better and they deserved each other.

(Sorry for the rant but I hate wasted potential)

Also Eddie giving Steve his vest??? LIKE COME ON HE WAS INTO THAT MAN!

[starberry-cupcake]

I have made up from last time that was about only one chapter, this time we have 5 in a row. We finished act one, fam!

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

I want to also thank you for all your nice comments and replies, I read every single one, I promise ♥

ch. 7 to 11 summarized terribly, here we go:

it's time to cross the river

difficult task to perform

as someone who lives literally surrounded by rivers, in every direction, I can relate

my rivers don't carry ghouls though, as far as I know

I mean, there are ghost and cryptid legends, but not ghouls that stick to the windshield of a spaceship like bugs

like these ones do

so harrow and yandere twin aren't doing fantastic

yandere twin loses it in like the first 2 seconds

harrow sees the ghosts of all the ninth kids who died for her to be alive

there's water also, but that part sounds very relaxing, actually

getting covered by water but not needing to breath

I'd be there forever tbh

but we can't, because ghoulies

mercygirl is still doing sound effects like kronk

btw we're changing her name to mercygirl because it's what I've been calling her now

I have been told by a number of you that mercygirl is your camilla so I apologize for disrespecting your blorbina

I might do it again, if the situation arises, though

mercygirl is piloting the ship and emperor the fool is just chillin' until he realizes harrow is walking about and doing theorems, which they didn't think she'd be in a state to do, so they didn't tell her not to do it

these people half-assing plans, who would have thought

mercygirl calls the emperor john

emperor johnnyboy tries telling harrow to come back from her state because she's in too deep and it's becoming dangerous

mercygirl stars talking about the death of cassiopeia (another name that's easy to remember)

says cassiopeia had a ceramics collection, which makes her worthy of all my respect

harrow was thinking "five", idk what it's about

next thing we know, we're back to our gideonless retelling of gideon

in this version, teacher explains things

he says the house was inhabited previously by "ten normal human beings of the Resurrection, though half were blessed already with necromantic gifts"

I'm tired of MATH

he says they left blueprints, he tells them about the Sleeper, he tells them how not to awaken it, he tells them about the trap door, he tells them what's under the trap door, he asks them to work together...

you know what this is like

it's like reading gideon was entering a new game and skipping every tutorial they give you

and reading this is like clicking every NPC's info and reading all that they say

ANYWAY, here is where ortus 1...

wait, this is going to be confusing

I want to call ortus from the ninth "ortus 1" and the new guy "ortus 2"

because ninth ortus was the first to show up

but new ortus is actually older and also is ortus the first

we're gonna go with ortus and lyctor!ortus, for now

so, as I was saying, this is were ortus starts becoming much more insistent in these "flashbacks" about him not being the right choice

which, he's not wrong

we know he's not wrong

and harrow is saying stuff like "unless you can summon matthias nonius" (matthias nonius is becoming a recurrent thing, let's remember harrow compared gideon to him at one point)

and ortus goes "I don't understand why you chose me" to which harrow says "there was nobody else" and ortus exasperatedly says "you never did posses an imagination"

VERY IMPORTANT THING

a skeleton turns around when they're walking and says "is this how it happens?"

we'll come back to that shortly

REMEMBER IT

(I know you all remember it, you've read this already, just act like I'm dora the explorer and play along)

next chapter starts in not!dulcinea's funeral

I'm sad I used the oliver queen grave meme already, I can't use it again to express my feelings

I'm gonna use the steel magnolias scene where they laugh at the funeral instead

so, we are introduced to the famous augustine who's name I will remember

there's some conversation about first and second generations and about not!dulcinea being chosen, and Emperor Johnny Bravo says "we were all there to meet her, all sixteen of us"

MORE MATH

I guess she was the last one of these, but maybe we knew that already, I feel we knew that already

apparently, not!dulcinea was the most reluctant to slurp her cavalier, but that didn't stop any of them, not even her, so

Emperor Johnny Quest says "for god's sake" and harrow thinks "the god who became a man and yet still invoked himself, apparently"

when she's right, she's right

that's better commentary than I could make

I have to respect augustine a little bit because he asked "which one of the kiddies did her in?" and I thought that was hilarious

he is called the saint of patience, which makes my previous comment about them being named via sarcasm very correct

it's like captain planet or the power rangers but chosen as funnily as possible

they start summoning lyctor!ortus by saying that he's interested in "you-know-what", which is both suspicious and childish and the vibes of these lyctors are all over the place

augustine thinks something's wrong, which is an understatement at this point, but ok

lyctor!ortus comes in as if summoned by the gossip and harrow calls him "the next terrible part of your life" which is saying something

lyctor!ortus comes with news of the seventh beast or whatnot that's trailing them

harrow bleeds from her ears and smashes her head on the next available surface to pass out

the mood

who could blame her

this lyctor job is terrible

it's like the end of drop dead gorgeous and harrow is kristen dunst

I'm not explaining that, in case you haven't watched a classic

we are back to the "flashbacks" and we've got a special appearance from the fifth

*studio audience claps and cheers*

they say they prefer to look into books than going downstairs, which is something one would consider if one had known what the fuck was downstairs from the start

abigail also does sound effects like mercygirl, it's catching on

abigail finds a piece of a recipe note that mentions an M and a Nigella

still no G&P

we know nigella is the cav of cassiopeia, the ceramics collector

I remember nigella's name because of the cook, which makes it funnier that it's a recipe

M could be mercygirl

abigail also gives harrow a note

abigail says that she'd like to summon the ghost of a lyctor but she's not sure how that could work or where they go when they die

ortus, magnus and abigail, in this gideonless version, are a polycule

I am convinced of that

while they're talking, magnus says "is this really how it happens?"

REMEMBER I SAID WE'D BRING THAT BACK

IT'S BACK

abigail starts telling harrow that she's got the energy of a lot of dead kids in her and harrow storms out

harrow gets angry when ortus calmly agrees about things and she doesn't want to look into why

I WONDER WHY THAT IS

harrow looks at abby's note again and now there's text on it

it's a longer version of the note she found before

it's a rant

it mentions dead eggs, implantation, some guy being sent after the OP, said guy taking pity on OP

OP is mad about all of this and doesn't use punctuation

what ortus reads isn't what harrow reads, once again

NOW THIS BIT

"ortus, I need a cavalier with a backbone" "You always did and I am glad, I think, that I never became that cavalier"

the gideon points keep adding up

harrow then goes to sleep and is like this

final thing in act I, in chapter 11, is harrowbean stabbing not!dulcinea again, which

always make sure, it's like resident evil in here

just in case, let's stab her a bunch of times

so, are these "flashbacks" happening in real time whenever harrow isn't conscious?

is it her trying to remember what actually happened?

or is it her trying to hide it?

was there actually a longer period of time between the defeat of not!dulcinea and the emperor Jon Arbuckle coming to pick them up?

a period of time in which harrow learned things that made her write those letters?

and in which something happened regarding gideon?

is the note of the implantation also related?

why was gideon born in space?

of course I'm not asking you, please don't spoil anything, I'm just asking the void of desperation and chaos right now

we'll see if any of this gets answered soon or if I just get more questions

also, guess who wasn't mentioned

see you on the next one!! I'll try to get back to the awesome replies I've been getting soon ♥

[irlp1rate]

my most unpopular marauders opinion is that james is not the nice guy everyone portrays him to be.

is he kind? yes, to people he deems worthy of it.

I think that the idea that james is so nice and empathetic to regulus that he switches sides takes away from a lot of the nuance that makes jegulus so interesting. (this is specifically toward hogwarts fics btw, when you take out the whole Voldemort aspect it becomes completely different.)

jegulus is interesting (to me) because of the exploration between good vs evil. i think that james is a person that lives in a world where everything is very black and white. you’re either good or you’re bad, and there’s no grey area. i think james is an asshole to people who he thinks are “bad”. this is seen in canon with him to snape. snape is the epitome of a bad person who hurts james friends, therefore he doesn’t give a fuck about being mean, to the point where he becomes a bully. that’s why it’s hard to be mad at snape for hating james. in the end he wasn’t “evil”, he just lived in a grey area that james didn’t think existed.

regulus also lives in the grey area. he is doing what it takes to survive. he grew up in a hateful household, and we see him in canon break away from that, with sirius never knowing. the negative influences around him are so encompassing, its not even close to surprising that while he realized what was happening was wrong, he didnt have the strength to break away from it. even when he does break away, he does it in secret, assuming nobody will know what he did, and then he dies before he can face the consequences.

james first real experience with blood purists was sirius, who was defiant and eventually left. in his head, why would anybody choose to stay? i think thats where jegulus becomes so interesting. james finds someone who is bad on the surface and is an asshole to him. but then he discovers there is so much more underneath. (the perfect enemies to lovers trope) regulus is someone who expresses good thoughts, but won't follow through with them. and james just cant understand why regulus wont leave. he struggles with knowing what side regulus is on, but he never considers the grey area.

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Prologue

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: This is the first post to my new series so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Fighting, violence, drinking, guns, shooting, choking, cursing, gun shot, knives and a lot of violence that idk how to lable

You were back for the first time undercover at a dinner masquerade party and lets say nothing has happened yet. Your job was to obtain the organization files and deliver them by the end of the night but for now there was no sight of the enemy.

All night you've been in continuous conversation and greetings with people who you never met. It was killing you mentally. You'd do anything to be in your apartment, with your son on the couch cuddling while watching the Midnight Garden.

Through a couple of sources you've been informed that an unknown to you, agent group was on this operation too, but if you revealed to the wrong person, you'd already be dead.

"Excuse me, is the seat taken?" A strong Texan accent asked behind you. Turning, you saw a very handsome gentleman. Wearing a black button top with a black pair of fine trousers and leather shoes, he greatly showed off the blonde gelled hair that was excellently groomed and those green eyes just sparked right.

'Wait! Why are you caring how he looks or not?!' You asked yourself. You shook your head in disagreement, and he sat next to you. You take a sip of your glass filled with water; not wanting to seem to unsuttle.

"I understand you're not really into this style of events?" He inquired. You give him a slight look and softly reply, "May I ask what gave me away? My resting face of a bitch or that my body language is all over the place?" He let out a slight laugh and extended his hand to you.

"Jakob." As you reached to his hand, he delicately lifts yours, kissing your knuckles. You smile as you never experienced such a gentleman before.

"And here I thought chivalry died out a long time ago," you comment. With a stylish smirk, he shakes his head in disagreement. "There's still a lot of us around, you just gotta know where to look. If I'm not ahead of myself, may I ask for your name?"

Before your undercover name could drift back into your memory one of his friends is calling him over. A man in a black suit, quite tall with soft brown curls and a eighties pornstache. With a disappointed sigh, he excused himself with a quick apology. You were again stuck alone in silence.

The great thing about this job assignment was the masquerade. Nobody will know what hit them and what they're getting themselves into and that was the plan. Surprise. And you'll get what you want. A long time has passed of you eyeing the door, waiting for the right person to come in and your own phone rings instead with a notification.

Tamara. Your babysitter just sent you the cutest picture of your son watching tv with all his teddies aligned so they can 'Watch it too.'

Your son. So young but so passionate and so loved. He was smart for such a young age and could easily figure out people's emotions. He got easily attached and loved spending time with Tamara. God, you thank her so much.

You quickly put your phone away once you laid your eyes on the member entering.

Adanson.

The man you were waiting for. The man you were going to steal from or kill if things got out of hand. He looks so smirked and full of himself even behind the mask. This was the easy part, find out what room he's going to. Try not to pull the trigger and leave before anyone notices any drama. But it's not going to be easy.

This man is one of the greatest ghost gun and drug dealer you know. Ghost guns are unserialized and untraceable firearms that can be bought online and assembled at home. They are often sold through "ghost gun kits," which include all of the parts and often the equipment necessary to build these weapons at home.

These kits are widely available and can be purchased by anyone, including prohibited purchasers, domestic abusers, and gun traffickers — without a background check. As these kits and guns are sold at gun shows and online every day throughout the country, they undermine all of the life-saving policies that state legislatures have fought so hard to put in place.

They were also not metal so they could easily slide through security. And the drug part. Fentanyl. Fentanyl is a potent synthetic opioid drug approved by the Food and Drug Administration for use as an analgesic (pain relief) and anesthetic. It is approximately 100 times more potent than morphine and 50 times more potent than heroin as an analgesic.

You're eyes following him from behind the mask and the glass, your gaze doesn't drop at any movement. He's with his source or someone who's along the lines, the unknown man whispers in his ear and shows the door to the others. But why leave when you've just entered? Why not go around the back? And why were you the one having to follow their trail?

Oh well…. Isn't that just life… But why are they leaving through the back door? And you're right on their trail.

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

Sprinting. You never ran so fast through a street beforez as you were getting pursued by three henchmen. You felt the cold air as it burned to intake, and those ankles of yours were gonna twist in all but the right angles. You got it. You don't know how but you've got the organisation files but you managed to got caught so you're kinda running for your life and may I say running in heels and a red long silk dress wasn't really in your plans. Thinking you could lose them, you run down an alleyway.

It was a wrong turn, a dead end. There was no exit and no way out. 'Shit!' you thought, panting. You hear three pairs of thick footsteps of the men who have chased you and a disgusting laughter as you turn back around facing the men.

You had to fight or you'd die. The largest of the three came up to you shoving you backwards against the stone wall. "You all are the same, think you can take what they want without consequences," that russian accent was so scrappy that you'd prefer nails on a chalkboard.

"Now little girl, give us the files or are you prepared for death," he grabbed you by the neck, you spitting in his face made him take a stepped back in disgust and a flinch. The two of the men couldn't have done anything until you say.

"I think I should be asking… Are you prepared?" Smirking you start your fight as one henchman ran towards you hoping to punch you straight in the face. Giving him a roundhouse in the nose and punching him in the lower stomach, grabbing his head and kneeling him straight unconscious, you failed to see the other man coming behind with a thick metal chain, causing you to check while cutting off your oxygen access.

You started pulling and shaking which only cause him to squeeze tighter. Your vision started to go. You knew this was the end when you could only cough and not breathe. You were about to pass out but suddenly you were dropped and quickly loosened the grip for yourself gasping to catch a breath.

A gun shot.

Let's be more specific a gunshot sent from the handsome Texan blonde who flirted with you this evening. Wait where did he go? You felt a hand on your shoulder, and with the remaining stamina you had, your fight or flight response kicked in.

You grabbed a hold of his arm flipping him onto his lap, straddling his chest. You pull you knife out pressing it against his neck. " Who the fuck are you and why did you follow me?" You inquired aggressively, not knowing if he was with or against you. "I'm an agent, ma'am. I work with the San Diego Mission Force." He pulls out his badge to backup his story.

Quite shocked you don't waste time getting off him and holding your arm out to help him up which he takes,"I apologize for my aggressiveness," you looked at him, he returned a smile.

'Fake it, till you make it, that's all you had to do.'

"You were doing what anyone should have done. You've got me quite wowed that you managed to do that after getting nearly killed." Smirking, you look down, 'this man was still flirting!'

Bang.

Your que to run. You swiftly kick his from underneath his feet causing him to fall to the ground with an 'oof' leaving his lips. Grabbing your gun, which is concealed in your purse, you point it straight in between that perfect pair of green eyes, "I'm warning you, try to follow me again and I won't hesitate to kill you."

He tries to get up but you stomp your heel onto his clothed chest causing him to cough after getting wind knocked out of his chest, "Do you know who you're messing with. And I legit' just saved your life," he groans as the gun never leaves your aim.

"The real question is do you know who you've messed with." And at that you're gone. Disappeared into thin air without a trace and you left him there on the ground as the rest of the daggers come running but there's no trace of you…

Thanks to @shanimallina87 and @callsign-magnolia for ideas and support

Tagging who may be interested:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@rosiahills22

@horseslovers2016

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

@dempy

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

[running-with-the-feels]

okay, just had a thought but like

nothing Kuai Liang has ever done has actually been his choice prior to like, maybe, the second half of MKX.

I mean, think about it, he's kidnapped by assassins as a child and tortured and brainwashed into becoming a weapon. He's told that he can't leave or he'll be killed and even if he could he has no one to turn to in the outside world bc they killed everyone else and his knowledge of it is limited by the fact that he's not been in it since he was a child and is only allowed out for missions. If he doesn't do what he's told, they will kill either him or his brother, that is the very definition of Under Duress.

And then he's cyberized and Literally has his autonomy taken away, along with his body which is Horrifying, and when he gets his autonomy back, he's in the middle of a war and has no real choice but to fight for his life no matter what he wants.

Then he dies, and becomes a revenant and while its unclear exactly how much control Quan Chi had over them, it's pretty heavily implied that it was a lot, kinda like a semi-autonomous puppet situation, and is again made to fight and kill for someone else.

Then he's resurrected, and almost immediately possessed by Havik who canonically took full control of Kuai Liang and made him kill a bunch more people.

Even once he's freed, going after the cyber initiative might count as his first choice, but they are also hunting him and constantly trying to kill him so idk if that counts and then he's just sitting in his temple, minding his own business, when Raiden sends him a bunch of people to train and we have no indication that Kuai Liang intended to reform his clan at all until this happened, Raiden made that choice for him.

the man has never had any true freedom to choose in his life.

Meanwhile,

Everything Hanzo has ever done has been fully his decision.

We know that Quan Chi lied to him about who killed his family, and I will give him a pass bc nobody would be thinking rationally in that situation, but also, why on Earth would you trust the fucking necromancer? why would you not try to ask literally anyone else if he's telling the truth EVERYONE KNOWS THAT QUAN CHI IS A LIAR. but hey, maybe Hanzo doesn't know that, so we'll give him a pass.

But then, he still choses to serve Quan Chi rather than seek Bi-Han out on his own, he still kills Bi-Han even when he has a Massive incentive (the elder gods bringing his family and clan back) to leave him alive, and he chooses to keep serving Quan Chi after getting his revenge.

He even admits in the MKX comics that he was never controlled, though we know he was manipulated and he's probs not taking that into account, so at the very least the majority of the blame for his choices is on his own shoulders.

He also chooses to try and kill Kuai Liang in those same comics even as the cryomancer is kinda begging for his life and pleading his innocence. And he kills Quan Chi even knowing that it will damn the rest of the revenants to staying in hell forever.

Like, I'm not saying Hanzo is evil, I find all of his choices Very easy to understand even if they're the wrong ones, its clear why he does what he does, but he still makes a lot of bad choices that hurt the people around him.

And it's just like, do you think they ever talk about that? Does that affect the way they see and understand each other? Do they bring it up in fights and then regret it immediately?

Idk, I just think it's a really interesting parallel between their two characters.

[medusapelagia]

02 Creel’s House

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Ghost) and @au-gust (Prompt: Colorless) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve & Robin, Steve/Eddie if you squint TW: AU, Major character already dead, body horror, monsters, ghosts, homicide, spiders Words: 1688

Homicide suicide.

That's what every newspaper titled the article about Eddie Munson's death. And they weren't totally wrong. Someone actually killed someone else and then killed himself, but both the police and the newspaper assumed it was Eddie who killed Chrissy before killing himself. The truth was the contrary.

Maybe it could sound unrealistic that a cute blond teenage girl killed a young man, but they didn't know that Chrissy was possessed by an evil creature. A creature that even years after his death, Eddie is still hunting down.

He has done his best to keep everyone away from Creel's house. He has screamed in the night, turned on lights and electronic devices, and left messages on the fogged glass of the shower. And it has worked every single time! For almost forty years nobody has stepped inside Creel's house, which is why the entire building is decrypted and full of mold. Totally unsanitary. But this doesn't seem to worry the young couple that just made an offer to buy the place.

They want to renovate it and sell it even better, and in the meantime, they'll take temporary residence in the living room, the only room that still maintains the appearance of a room because it's the room where Eddie and Chrissy died, and Eddie is still waiting for the monster to creep through the wooden cracks and makes his appearance.

Eddie never saw the monster that took the girl he loved so deeply, but he saw the effect he had on her, puppeteering her like she was a toy and not a person. He remembers her white empty eyes and the low growl that came from her mouth before she hit him with a poker in the back of his head. After that he has no idea of what happened, his memories are blurred, and all he knows is that he woke up in a colorless world and quickly found out that's true what they say about ghosts: you become a ghost when you have some unfinished business, and Eddie's business is find the monster that took Chrissy. Exorcize him if he has to! No idea how, but he knows he'll manage somehow.

It takes Eddie a couple of days to understand that the young couple isn't a couple at all. They are joined at the hip but they don't share any physical contact, like Eddie and Chrissy.

It makes Eddie sad remembering Chrissy, but he finds comfort in knowing that at least she's not there, trapped between life and death, so her soul must be resting somewhere else.

The young man, Steve is his name, is really good-looking, totally Eddie's type if he wasn't a ghost. Eddie spends hours studying him. Right now Steve is kneeling in the basement, trying to get enough water pressure for Robin, the girl, to take a shower. Little does he know that Eddie broke all the pipes years before.

Eddie chuckles, amused at Steve’s stubbornness, and Steve turns toward him.

For a little moment, Eddie wonders if Steve can see him, they are eyes into eyes and he’s stepping closer enough that Eddie could touch him if he was still alive.

Steve's hand reaches out toward Eddie and he freezes, staring at the hairy arm… that passes through him to grab a screwdriver from a metal shelf.

Eddie screams, angry and frustrated, and the entire house shakes. Once the earthquake stops, Steve runs upstairs, screaming Robin’s name and dragging her out of the house.

They’ll find out soon that the mysterious earthquake was only at their place and that everyone knows that Creel’s House is haunted.

***

After the basement incident, Eddie decides that it’s time for Robin and Steve to leave, so he tries his old scheme: noises in the night, flickering lights, and whispering in the night. Surprisingly, neither of the two of them seems to be scared by Eddie’s efforts. Instead of running for their life, screaming from the top of their lungs, they start filming the weird things that keep happening in the house and post them on their socials. They get a great number of followers, that’s a new word Eddie just learned, that quickly transforms into a pilgrimage of curious people who want to live the experience of meeting a ghost.

Eddie never shows himself when those outsiders come to Creel’s House, but every single one of them swears they felt his presence. 

The bright side is that finally, after almost forty years, the presence of so many people in Creel’s House attracts the monster Eddie was waiting for. 

It starts with a cold feeling that both the humans and the ghost can feel even if it's August.

Robin says it's the old wall, but Steve seems not convinced. He keeps filming around the house, finding spiders crawling from under the wooden floor and moving toward the attic, the only room Eddie never managed to explore and whose key was lost ages ago.

Finally, the two humans are starting to feel scared.

"I think we should leave. Like right now." Robin says, looking at the creepy row of insects that keeps marching toward the attic.

"Ok. Wait for me in the car," Steve replies, but Eddie can tell that something is wrong. His body language is different, and when turns toward Eddie he seems to have the same white empty eyes Chrissy had when she killed him.

"Hello, Edward." Steve says with a voice that's not his, but it's Creel's.

"Did you say something?" Robin asks, turning just in time to see the empty look on Steve's face. She starts to scream, running toward him, but Eddie concentrates all his energy and manages to push her out of the house, closing the door behind her.

The woman keeps screaming Steve's name, punching the door with desperation, but Eddie won't let her back inside, no matter what.

"Forty years and you never left this shit hole?"

"I was waiting for you!" Eddie snarls back.

"Oh, do you think I didn't have any other place to be, Edward? Your energy is attractive, but the world is full of people whose lives a living nightmares and who are an easier prey. If it wasn't for this young man here I would have never set foot back in here and you would have waited for eternity." The creature with Steve's face cackles.

"Leave him alone!" Eddie yells, trying to shake the possessed body.

"Why should I? His desperation is so tasty. He hides it under a fake smile but his life is a mess. He's lost and I can make all of this end. I'm a savior."

"You're a fucking killer!"

"That's just a consequence. When I feed from them I free them of their demons. Sadly. They die. Humans are so fragile, you know?" Creel says, snapping Steve's arms like it was a toothpick.

"Let him go! Let him go or…"

"Or what, Edward? What are you going to do? Huh?" Creel's voice asks, amused.

Eddie tries to hit the creature inside Steve's body, but his punch passes through Steve's body without hitting him. Still, that gesture isn't completely futile because for a fraction of a second Eddie sees the inside of the attic, a room made of reds and blues with a huge pumping machine. He doesn't really know what he saw, but Eddie knows it is something important because Creel freezes.

"No!" he screams, but Eddie is already sprinting toward the attic, taking a few shortcuts through the walls that Steve's body can't take.

The sturdy wooden door is still standing in front of him, like an impenetrable wall, but there's a tiny hole the little insects are using to get inside. Eddie never tried to change his form before, he just used to run through the walls, but he concentrated, making himself small enough to finally break through into the attic.

On the other side, Creel, still in Steve's body, is trying to break down the door, but Eddie's eyes are pinned to an old body, almost mummified, connected to so many tubes, and lying inside a sort of pentagram.

A body trapped between life and death.

Eddie stares at the fragile body with pity, and finally, he remembers why Chrissy and he went to Creel's house all those years ago.

All the kids in town knew the story of the crazy Doctor Victor Creel who made experiments on homeless people to cure his ill child and Chrissy wanted to write an article in the school newspaper about it. She has done tons of research in the public library and all she needed was to get into the house and take a few pictures to add them to her article, and for doing that she needed Eddie's lockpicking skills.

But they never managed to get any pictures. Chrissy was attacked by Creel as soon as she got inside, she killed Eddie and then she killed herself, all because of the creature lying on that rusty bed.

With a last push, the wooden door finally yields and Steve's body falls on the ground, one arm broken and the other badly bruised. Creel stares at Eddie, and then he leaves Steve's body to get back to his own and protect himself, but this time Eddie is determined to put an end to the murderous story of the family.

He gets into Steve's body, something he never did before, and uses his good hand to erase the chalk pentagram from the floor.

The body lying on the rusty bed writhes and shrieks, staring with his white eyes at Eddie, cursing him one last time, before dying.

For a moment Eddie remains in Steve's body, enjoying the feeling of being alive once more, but then he sees Steve's memories. Creel was right, the young man's memories are full of pain and sorrow, but also of joy and friendship, and Eddie can rob him of his own life.

"I hope I'll meet you in the next life," Eddie whispers, and for a moment their soul connects and that's enough for Eddie to be sure that he'll find him again soon.

[balanceoflightanddark]

What if Aang never met up with a lion turtle?

Well, if Aang never met up with the Lion Turtle, he wouldn't have learned energybending. And if he never learns energybending, then he'd have to kill Ozai since there would be no other option to render him a nonthreat.

Remember that Aang did say he had to kill the Fire Lord before he learned energybending. He wasn't happy about it, but clearly, the option was there if there was no other way. And it wouldn't be the first time he killed. He did kill Fire Nation soldiers in the Siege of the North while fused with La (even if La was in control, Aang does take responsibility with that little incident hanging heavy in his mind). And one of his recurring problems is that deep down, there is a part of him that wants to get revenge on the Fire Nation for the genocide of his people (slips into the Avatar State upon seeing the corpse of Monk Gyatso, was just barely able to stop himself from killing Ozai during Sozin's Comet).

So with this in mind, we can assume that Aang resolves to kill Ozai. And probably succeeds. Either he redirects Ozai's lightningbending and kills him that way, or he slips into the Avatar State like he's done in the past and kills him that way once his chakra gets unblocked by the rock. Regardless of either option, he's able to kill Ozai.

And he'll be destroyed by it.

For one, he's 12 years old. Doesn't matter how many times his friends try to reassure him, that's way too young to kill. We've already seen that he feels responsible for any collateral damage that the Avatar State causes when he's not in control. What do you think will happen when he kills somebody as a deliberate action Avatar State or not?

Second, and probably most important, killing Ozai wouldn't solve anything. I mean sure, we can have the crowning ceremony for Zuko and the declaration that the new era will be one of peace and understanding.

But there would be this undercurrent of uneasiness behind it all. Zuko might not be as warm with Aang since, abusive POS or not, his father died. I don't think Zuko is going to walk away from that smelling like roses.

And there might not be as many celebrations or people coming together at the end of the war. Why?

Because Aang just put himself above everyone else and executed a man without trial. Even if Ozai was a monster, it doesn't take much guesswork to realize that if the Avatar was able to do it once, he could do it again.

And nobody would be able to stop him.

We've seen what happens when an Avatar gets too heavyhanded. Kyoshi and the Avatar Cycle has a whole became pariahs in Chin Village for killing Chin. Even if it was justified and even if the episode itself was silly at times, they weren't wrong in believing that an Avatar could go rogue and do the same thing again. People are afraid of that kind of power.

Particularly when it comes to the Fire Nation, who I think as a whole won't back down when Aang just murdered their Fire Lord and backed his traitorous son. We might get rebellions. Civil wars. Assassins. Any attempts on Aang's part to quell the warmongering Fire Nation is going to be hamstrung by this one act of violence. I mean Chin Village hadn't forgiven Kyoshi for her actions. Why would a warmongering society see Aang's point of view? Especially when he already has a history of wiping out Fire Nation naval fleets.

Which of course will fray Aang's patience again and again. The kid does have his limits (see the Sandbenders or General Fong). But the attacks won't stop. I could even see assassins being sent out for Aang or the Gaang if they can't kill the Avatar.

And if one of his friends gets hurt or even killed...

There's only so much a kid can take before he snaps.

Anyways, that's how I envisioned this would play out if Aang never met the Lion Turtle. Obviously, it's a bit dark, but it kind of hammers in the point about how you can't exactly end a centuries-long war with one more body to the pile. The world needed mercy, not revenge.

[furorsopher]

things i think we forget when talking about hamilton as a person (and that’s not necessarily a bad thing bc that guy lived 200 years ago, it’s good to keep distance sometimes)

hamilton was a real human being who had a personality, in jokes with friends and family, and varying emotions. and as a kid, multiple things occurred that would permanently affect and change a child.

he grew up in an town where abuse of other humans - specifically slaves - was a day to day occurrence, and since he lived close to the port and worked in trading, he had to have witnessed a lot of gruesome mistreatment of fellow humans. not to mention the tragedy of his mothers life, and the end she met.

he had to grow up and work to keep himself alive at 14, think about a cousin, or sibling, or somebody you know that’s 14, do you think they’re adult enough to sustain themselves? hamilton wasn’t some other species that matures sooner, he was still a child. but nevertheless he became fairly successful and then a natural disaster came and he had to endure suffering again, saw others die, families being separated never to be reunited.

all of that takes a toll on somebody. even one of those events would traumatise some people - especially children and teens - so bad they wouldn’t be able to live normally ever again. it’s pretty safe to say that hamilton was no exception to that.

his college mates described him as deeply depressed, he was so religious it stuck out at fucking king’s college, a very christian institution that required attending mass daily - even if it was simply routine to him and he wasn’t actually as religious it’s still quite the feat. his fleeing into his studies and prayer was his form of escapism. when he found his coping mechanisms in work, he was gonna work until he dropped.

that’s a pretty tell-tale sign of somebody with substantial issues. not to mention the shit that happened later in his life, his life in the army, the annual reoccurrence of the illness that killed his mother, the death of his closest friend, the death of his only even remotely positive father figure.

just because tragedy in childhood was something most people had - and have - to deal with, doesn’t make it any less traumatic. those were still people.

hamilton wasn’t of an overtly weak psyche, but not because “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, but because he literally didn’t know anything else. and we can see that in how he reacted to other traumatic stuff that happened to him - or rather how he didn’t react. how he shut down, basically nobody heard from him after phillip died, he shut up and closed off after laurens died. his immune system was shit, he was susceptible to fainting spells. physical weakness is also a symptom of something wrong. he forced his oldest son into a strict schedule to get all his studies and life done in college. that’s a shit thing to do, but we can see how scared he was that phillip won’t be able to achieve something of his own.

and also we see how self destructive hamilton got, constantly overworking, throwing himself at the nearest parent-aged adult around, the symptoms of hyper sexuality often seen in trauma victims are also apparent in his time working under washington. that twink knew to get what he could by batting his eyelashes and he did exactly that.

and later, when he went to duel burr, he fully prepared to die then and there, spending time with his family the days before, being as affectionate as he could to his kid - specifically the one in a prime age to be permanently traumatised by a parent dying. the others were either older and more independent or too young to really understand what was going on. he was planning to die and had a hunch even before burr knew he was gonna kill him. he had been in like a dozen other duels and all of them settled without shooting. why would that time be different?

- though i don’t think that was his goal when provoking burr, that was just his actual opinion and maybe some repressed bitterness shining though, it was probably just an added bonus -

also: he was mostly atheist during his adult life, but turned back to religion and clung to it after phillip’s death - suicide was a sin (though not a mortal one like in catholicism which AHam actively hated on btw) in the anglican belief at that time i believe (correct me if im wrong) so maybe the duel could count as self murder over a corner or two.

hamilton was a person. an actual man who lived 49 very productive years and died after he had had enough. a person who was deeply effected by his experiences.

please don’t take any of this too seriously and everything with a huge grain of salt, i’m a 17 year old who likes history and trauma psychology, im not gonna get everything right - this is all highly speculative and probably not even relevant to most conversations abt the guy i just wanted to put my thoughts somewhere, no this isn’t proofread pls correct me on any mistakes ive made <3 have a lovely dayyyy :3

main source is Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow and various documents found in the founders archive