#it's just a title people have used to project onto him
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comfreyhollywings · 1 year ago
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every time i look up the tag of gojo satoru - i want to scream at the mischaracterization the poor man's going through 💀
#gojo satoru#ok so lots of ppl like to make him a playboy with a god complex and call it a day#meanwhile canon gojo satoru is like an overworked retail manager who had way too much expectations placed on him as a child#and a chronic overachiever#is he blessed with those skills? absolutely#is he fucking unhinged as a result of them? yes. i think so.#but like i take one look at him#and while he has 'adjusted' in a way where he CAN create bonds#i think the man seriously suffers through intimacy issues#like especially in his job where people DIE all the time#and in his personal life where his BEST FRIEND had horrendous results after death aka getting posessed by fucking kenjaku#like. yeah. no. i don't think he's the type to easily let people in much less let them have the opportunity to sink their hooks in#at least not for long#because he DOES love A LOT despite it all#but imo he only loves from a distance#always from a distance#so seeing what people project onto him with his mischaracterization is so interesting#i wonder if it's intentional writing as a whole because gojo's whole thing as “the strongest” doesn't actually mean jack shit.#it's just a title people have used to project onto him#so to fall for that projection#i feel like is both a boon and hinderance from gojo's side. always at a distance#i wonder if he lets people believe that in order to protect himself ultimately.#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#overall the man's just trying to catch up on the happiness of his childhood the best way he can tbh and i think that's admirable#for a job as traumatic as that.
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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 4 months ago
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OK Guys. I get the skepticism esp after the Knuckles disaster, but we also need to keep in mind "this is a trailer that won't spoil literally everything about the movie." ESPECIALLY in regards to GUN. They're not gonna put in the trailer "the military shot a little girl and that's why Shadow is mad so Sonic is going to never work with them ever." That's a great way to get parents to bring their kids to the theater, especially in America. (/s)
It's WAY more effective as a plot twist halfway through, where Sonic thinks that he's finally being accepted onto Earth via working with the government only to find out that they're exploiting him and Shadow the same. I can't guarantee this is gonna happen obviously but it's like a 90% chance just knowing how, like. writing works.
Esp considering the government has not had a good track record in the last two movies, I dunno if they'd do a heel-face turn into "actually they were always right" in the movie where a little girl needs to get shot by the government.
And I'm not gonna say "trust and form a parasocial relationship with a film director" but we should keep in mind that Jeff Fowler got his start working on Shadow's title game and has stated in interviews that he understands how important Shadow's backstory is to his character. Not to mention how the internet has been exploding the last two years with enthusiasm over this story actually getting shown onscreen, enough that a studio would fucking notice at the very least that this is what the people want. I can't guarantee they'll actually listen, but saying that they're absolutely not because "Sonic was in a GUN helicopter in the trailer" is insane. Especially with the fact that GUN is not with Sonic when he goes to Eggman. We just see Team Sonic alone meeting with Stone, and I will bet you it's because there's no way in hell GUN would let them near him, what with the Robotnik connections to the ARK.
Also the Gerald thing is rather worrying, esp with the lack of shit they gave Pachacamac in the miniseries, but honestly I think that was just a marketing push of "Jim Carrey will be playing TWO characters!!!" Considering he's only seen in one trailer scene AT the ARK (where all of Gerald's technology was and, more importantly, where the Eclipse cannon he needs someone to set off is) AND we know from movie 2's credits scene that there was a fifty-year timeskip, I severely doubt that's the real Gerald who's just completely unaffected by his granddaughter being murdered.
And ofc there's things to be concerned about in the trailer. The lack of Rouge for instance– I obviously keep posting my theory that Krysten Ritter's character will be her undercover but the fact we don't know how much time she'd actually have with Shadow, if at ALL, is worrying. The fact that Rouge might not be here period. The weird pacing of the Knuckles show and the fear that could bleed over into the movie. But there's also stuff to get excited about– the epic fight scene choreography, the brief glimpse we got of Maria and Shadow's bond. Reeves's voice actually fits Shadow and at least from what the trailer showed us it looks like the Green Hills storyline is taking a backseat to the action and mystery of Project Shadow.
tl;dr guys calm down for like five minutes. if the movie sucks in december we can riot then. right now let's just band together against mufasa
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grimmweepers · 3 months ago
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄: OCT 3RD
— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yandere!dottore x assistant!fem reader
— ♤ 𝐜𝐰: obsessive yandere behaviour, emotional manipulation, psychological manipulation, stalking, build up to smut is longish sorry, reader is gullible, dubcon, no preparation, pussy slapping (once), he calls you sweetheart, pet, pup, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, power imbalance, biting, 3.5k wc, 18+ only, MDNI.
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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It started with curiosity.
Maybe it was the softness in your voice as you confidently sat in his office, explaining why you would be perfect for the job, or perhaps the way you held onto the belief that he was a good person. But once Dottore saw how much you lit up when he offered you a position on the spot, he knew right then he needed to keep you close. 
This new revelation almost terrified him. 
Your voice was so innocent, clinging to him like honeysuckle, and that warmth behind your smile—it was too pure, too untainted. It had to be locked away before the world could tarnish it.
If you had paid attention, you would’ve noticed how his gaze lingered a little too long when you spoke; how his questions would dive deeper the more you got to know him.
You were ignorant of how much Dottore had deeply ingrained himself into every facet of your life, playing the role of the emotionally distant boss who eventually found comfort in your company. He saw that flicker of trust in your eyes and allowed you to believe you were the only person who could see the real him—“the man behind the mask who bled his heart and soul to you when nobody else was looking.” 
Everything was calculated. Subtle. You had become his latest obsession—a sweet, little experiment where the only result he deemed acceptable would be having you wrapped around his finger. So he made sure he was the first you turned to when things went wrong, planting seeds of doubts about everyone you knew. 
“Forgive me but your friends don’t seem to understand you.”
At first, you dismissed his comments but over time his critiques took root. You saw flaws in people that seemingly weren’t there before which made you wonder if it was truly only Dottore who had your best interest at heart. Gradually, you began to rely on him as your only confidant. Your rock. But it didn’t stop at just your relationships. Dottore had inserted himself into your daily routine, providing solutions for problems you hadn’t realised he created. After minor inconveniences and projects falling through, he was always there to pick up the pieces.
“Here, let me help you with that.”
And every time he did, you felt more indebted to him.
Dottore strung you along for years, feeding you enough affection to have you tethered with him while subtly isolating you from others. And when he finally made you his girlfriend, it was less a declaration of love and more of a confirmation of his control over you.
But you didn’t need to know that. 
You are his precious masterpiece, sculpted into the ideal partner—no longer the person you once were but a reflection of his twisted desires. 
When calling him “Doctor” transitioned from a professional title to something you moaned whenever he plowed you with his cock, it was difficult for him not to start touching himself at random hours of the day. 
Fortunately for him, he could simply just find you while you were working and suddenly, there was something hard pressed against your ass! It always satisfied him a great deal knowing how willing you were to please him, no matter the time of day.  
Sometimes he pitied you for never catching on so the first time you went astray, he was somewhat glad that his little darling wasn’t so dense.
“Dottore, I’m finding it difficult to get through to you. I feel suffocated. I’m worried about us.”
He glanced up from his notebook, almost affectionately, “You’re overthinking it, my dear.”
“I think we need some time apart," your words tasted bitter. "I just… need to clear my head. I’m sorry,” you felt guilty for even suggesting it.
“Time apart?” he repeated with a false frown, dropping his book to look at you wholly. “For how long?’
“I’m not sure.”
A tense silence hung between you, and you tried to steady your breath.
“Darling, you’re not making any sense,” he blinked.
“It makes sense to me,” you protested, “I wasn’t asking.”
Truth be told, he was more amused than angered. Although, he wondered what it was that finally provoked your sudden notion. Sure, disagreements were more frequent but it had been so long since this all began. He thought his tactics would be something you were used to by now. Perhaps you were starting to see everything for what it truly was.
Perhaps not.
Your voice was trembling but you were firm in your resolve. Dottore liked that you thought you had a choice, so he entertained you by letting the last of his smile fade from his lips, eyes narrowing in your direction. 
“So a break, then? If you think that will benefit us, I understand. But I’m not a mind reader. If something bothers you, you have to tell me, okay?”
His words seemed to melt some of your worries away so you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Could you really doubt someone so patient, so willing to give you space when you needed it? 
“Really?”
“Of course," the lie effortlessly slipped between his teeth, "I respect your boundaries."
You nodded as you squeezed his hand and before you could turn away, his grip tightened. “Before you go, let me remind you that I love you, so very much.” 
And without warning, he kissed you. It was lingering, with no remorse, disguised as a parting gift—as if to say he know you’d be back.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” you said, feeling conflicted. 
“Doing what?” He questioned.
Dottore knew exactly what he was doing. 
———
Weeks had passed but your time away from him was restless. Days felt semi-wakeful and what emerged was not clarity but the creeping sense that the world was conspiring against you.
It was like your life had taken an irreparable turn. Work became a constant setback, and friends you thought you had made you feel isolated and adrift. Even your home, which once felt cozy and safe, was starting to feel clinical and cold. 
And who would be the one to orchestrate your misery other than the Doctor himself? That vendor who suddenly couldn’t get your orders right? A bribe from Dottore. The neighbours who started fighting at all hours? A couple he had manipulated into conflict. Even your small office, a place that once made you feel so productive, now felt claustrophobic and stifling thanks to subtle changes he made while you were away.
Each of these inconveniences wore you down, making you long for the comfort and stability that only Dottore had ever provided. 
So when you received a short and carefully worded letter from him, asking how you were, you felt a surge of relief. You didn’t hesitate to see him that very evening, desperate to talk in person.
Before you knew it, you were falling right into his hands.
On your feet, you headed straight to the entrance of his lab and stared at the door before you gave a knock.
“Come in,” he said from inside.
The moment you saw him, he greeted you with that charming smile, and suddenly all the frustration from the past weeks melted away. You rushed into his arms, burying your face into his chest, “I missed you.”
He held you close, stroking the back of your head with practiced gentleness, “Ah! You’re finally back. I can’t say I’ve been happy without you.” 
If he was beaming out of satisfaction, you were blind to it. You were too distracted by the need to hear him say it back, to say that he missed you. But instead of the words you longed to hear, he merely held you tighter.
Looking up at him, your eyes searched for reassurance, “Did you miss me?”
He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead, “Of course.”
“Everything’s been so hard,” tears began to well up, “I can’t believe I distanced myself when I needed you the most.” 
He was always enthralled whenever he was right.
“Let’s not dwell on that, shall we? I’m here now so don’t fret.”
His words felt like a balm to your wounded soul and you clutched onto his coat as if he might vanish if you let go. You could not refuse him and he wouldn’t allow that option to exist. Dottore watched you, elated with himself, “Come,” he said, taking your hand towards his familiar private quarters, “I have something for you.” 
After closing the door behind him, his gaze remained on you, “I was hoping you would see me sooner rather than later,” he started, guiding you to the couch where the two of you sat. “We have much to catch up on.”
Dottore wore his grief convincingly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate crystal necklace that flickered like ice in the light, “I don’t want to lose you again.” Your heart skipped a beat as he put it on for you, the weight of it cold against your skin. When you relaxed your guard, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I can’t lose you. I won’t.” 
You thanked him for the gift but felt him craning your head to the side.
“It’s ice quartz," he purred, "For the pure love I have for you. For the healing that I hope it brings to your troubled heart. I’m sorry.”
There was a pause—a thoughtful stillness, and without another word, he kissed the exposed skin of your neck as if you beckoned him to. 
His lips were impossible to resist, each kiss slowly claiming you as he trailed his way to your mouth. You allowed your hands to explore his hair, messing up the neatness that once was.
Dottore wasted no time, the moment his lips met yours, you felt his hungry tongue and how it tasted of false apologies and something sickeningly sweet. He kissed you like he was starved—like he'd wanted his mouth on yours for weeks.
"Do you still—" he lightly pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, "—feel suffocated?"
Yes, you wanted to say. But for an entirely different reason now. This type of suffocation made your head spin and left something tingling between your legs.
"No," you finally answered against him. A string of saliva connected the small space between your lips. You relaxed under him and he took it as a chance to shuffle himself between your thighs.
"Hmm, I'm glad," he smirked before forcing another kiss out of you. Between gasps for air, his impatient hands found the hem of your blouse, unbuttoning it as he pushed you on your back. You pulled him down with you because you refused to part from the sinful way his lips collided with yours.
Piece by piece, layers of clothes began to disappear until you were left with nothing except the necklace he had given you. 
Spread out like this, you were ravishing, like a fine piece of art and the sight of you went straight to his cock. It throbbed in his slacks and you could hear his breathing growing uneven. At that moment, he could’ve taken you like an animal but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“Mmh!” you moaned in surprise as he cupped your breast, fondling your sensitive nipples and practically anywhere else that was available to him. He was so precise in everything he did, it was no wonder he was in his profession. 
The time you spent apart had left you already aching for him so when he dipped his fingers between your quivering thighs, he felt your arousal. You were hot and puffy and embarrassingly wet.
Dottore began to toy with your clit and it pulsed under the pads of his fingers. You moaned instantly. But he was excruciatingly light with his touch which only made you desperate for more friction. You whined and even though the sound of it made his heart beat quickly, his face was unreadable.
“Patience,” he urged. Dottore waited for you for weeks and you had the nerve to whine? At the very least you could have made up for the time you robbed from him. 
You intended to listen. You really did! But when his fingers teased the entrance of your hole, your body acted before you could think and suddenly, your hips rolled towards him. He had barely even touched you before he stopped. 
Tsk, you heard from him, clearly disappointed by your lack of control.
Instead of continuing, he gave your pussy a sudden slap which left you whimpering. 
“Why—!” You trembled, feeling its stinging aftermath.
Why?
Simply put, he decided he wasn’t going to bother with what you wanted. 
In exchange for running away from him, he would show you that not everything was served on a silver platter. Seeing you go from distressed to dependent on him only excited him more. No one riles him up in the way that you do so he couldn’t bear to wait a second longer. 
“Stay like this,” there was something deranged about the smile that appeared on his face. The clinical white glow of his quarters dulled his pale skin yet his teeth glistened through his lips. You felt a chill and it wasn't because of the cold air.
He pulled away and you were immediately drawn to the tight bulge pressing against his pants. Dottore noticed. He knew you were watching.
"Now open your legs for me," he said, breaking you out of your daze. You shifted pathetically under him so it was ultimately his large hand, splayed across your thigh that held you in place. You saw his erection twitch when his eyes fell on your hole, drenched for him and all.
After quickly undoing his trousers, he pushed his throbbing length inside you in one, deep stroke. Your hands curled into the cushions and you were prepared to scream—
"Perfect," he breathed. You didn't need proper preparation. He knew your body better than you did.  
Your voice was lodged in your throat as his girth stretched you apart and Dottore couldn’t help throwing his head back, curses falling from his lips at how well you hugged him. You were so beautiful like this. He couldn’t wait to fuck you back into obedience. It was your fault for being this way, really. You were just so malleable, so easy.
“Ah, look at you. So wet already, my little pup. Did you miss me that much?” 
“Yes, I did. Yes, I did, Doctor!” you whimpered, and he began thrusting as if rewarding you for your response. His hips slammed mercilessly into yours at an unexpected pace, and you couldn’t even think about any of your frustrations anymore — each time he slid in and out was like erasing all the concerns you had before this. 
“Dottore,” he corrected you. “You call me by my name today.” There was a slight strain in his voice as he fucked you but that was better than what was going on with you. With each thrust bucking into your sweet spot, you could hardly talk. 
The coat on his back ruffled behind him with each erratic movement. It was almost humiliating how he remained entirely clothed as he rammed into you. Your bare skin was on display yet not so much as a zipper and his disheveled hair was out of place for him.
Maybe he was too eager, you thought. Or maybe it was because he wouldn’t strip himself for the likes of you. Not when he was trying to remind you that being with him was a luxury. What he needed to etch into your subconscious was: 
You could get whatever you want as long as you stay and listen. 
Huffing at the sensation of being balls deep inside your pussy, he held you with a bruising grip on your waist, fucking you in a way that had you drooling. You were trying to remember a time when he wasn’t the one making you happy or giving you pleasure — but you couldn’t. Because it didn’t exist. 
“Dott…ore,” you called breathlessly, your voice mixing with the sound of your necklace clinking against your chest. He knew you very well, you had more to say than just the spilling of his name. He could see it in your damn eyes. 
Lowering himself to your neck, he rutted you even further into the couch, “What is it, my dear?” He asked, biting into you, feeling his hot and heavy breath fanning your skin. You yelped as his teeth clenched, knowing there was going to be a mark later. 
“I… love… you…” The words came out in a broken whisper, the sincerity of your confession made his cock twitch inside of you, precum already painting the insides of your hole. 
His tongue began to trace a slow and deliberate path from your neck to your ear, keeping his relentless rhythm as he did. “Is that right?” There was a cruel edge to his voice when he spoke. And you nodded back at him, feebly. Truthfully. 
“Then act like it,” he hissed, grip tightening as he thrusted sharply.
You shuddered underneath him—out of fear or pleasure, you weren’t sure but you knew you didn’t want it to end. You pulled him closer, winding your hands around his neck while he was deep inside you. “I’m— sorry!” you moaned, an apology slipping out in a haze. 
He almost growled at the sensation of you trembling around him, his crimson eyes searing into you, “No, it’s not your fault. I should have paid better attention to you.”
Another lie but exactly what you needed to hear to keep you going.
Lewd squelching sounds filled the room as he reduced you to a filthy mess. Even in your years of being with him, you had never seen him so untamed. Your juices were getting all over his trousers and if you knew any better, you would've seen how he got off on that.
You had almost forgotten where you were, though, at that point, you didn’t care about whether anybody else in the building heard. He fucked you hard and desperately, whatever he needed to do to keep his darling at bay, and you shamelessly cried out his name over and again. It was adorable.
“Dottore… I’m close—! Fuck. Fuck!” You swallowed your words as he pounded you. 
"Dirty mouth," he grunted, "Who taught you how to speak like that?"
He hovered above you, so close you could almost feel his hair tickling your face. "Nobody," you moaned quietly this time, feeling ashamed.
Every veiny inch of him was inside you and the more you felt of it, the less you thought. You just wanted to snap, to cum on him while he drove into you.
“Oh my, you're getting tighter,” he cooed, his voice deceptively gentle as he neared his own release. “Feeling good, sweetheart? Finish with me then…” 
Fortunately—or unfortunately, his pace became rougher, like a repeated reminder of who he was to you and his hand traveled to your jaw, tipping your head to meet his gaze. Amid your bodies thrashing, he could barely keep up with his own voice,
“No one will ever love you like me
or care about you like me
or fuck you like me. Do you understand, pet?” 
“Yes—! Yes, I do,” you panted as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips further into your sloppy cunt. In your lust-clouded daze, you were too weak to register the weight of his words. His sultry voice did a great job at masking the fact that he meant every single thing he said. 
Dottore’s face twisted into a more sadistic smile, letting his thoughts get the best of him. He relished in how little and helpless you sounded, how utterly pliant you were to his will. Everything felt right again and you were back to where he had woven you. With a final, brutal snap of his hips, he spilled his seed inside you, locking himself against you. 
You arched your back as your orgasm crashed simultaneously—you moaned collectively, and your walls pulsed around his cock like you were milking every drop he’s got. His hips stuttered, not giving a damn about the way your nails bit into his skin. Instead, he slammed his lips onto yours, devouring you in a messy, filthy kiss—a perfect match for the way he had just fucked you senseless.
Still panting, he clutched the side of your face, only gentler now. His thumb stroked your cheek as if savouring the moment of seeing you act the way you should.
“I love you,” he hummed, the words slipped from his lips like it was so natural to him. "I love you."
Of course, he loved you. Everything he has done for you was for himself. Everything has been catered to him. 
His sweat-speckled forehead shimmered in the dim light and as you looked up at him, your heart softened. The weight of him on top of you and the comfort in his embrace made you forget everything, lulling you into a peaceful state. 
You sighed, feeling a bit foolish for even creating a wall between you. In front of you, he seemed so fragile, like you were the only thing holding him together. How could you have thought he was anything but honest with you all along?
Now, everything felt perfect—perfect in a way that left no room for anything else. 
No room for doubt or escape.
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a/n: imagine at the end of this you think it's over and suddenly his segments walk in
© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform
dividers by @/astrumaur
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badscienceman · 2 months ago
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I saw someone ask what "I hope this hurts" means beyond the obvious, and I started to respond only for it to turn into an essay... Because I don't feel like dumping something so long in some unsuspecting person's notifs, I'm just going to post it here instead.
I started writing this after playing the game, but ended up watching a playthrough because I couldn't remember exactly where "I hope this hurts" was repeated. I think I caught the only few times it was mentioned, but I wouldn't be surprised if I missed something, so feel free to correct me on that or anything else I might have gotten wrong.
Spoilers for the full game and CWs for everything you would expect from discussing Mouthwashing apply.
Edited 10/16/2024 for clarity and some minor issues with formatting. I added sections in hopes of making it more readable, as well as a few more screenshots that I hope will support my points better. *Indicates where I made potentially significant additions to my original analysis.
Part One: Jimmy
Jimmy is someone who has a delicate ego. This means that he's very concerned with how he's perceived by those around him. We see this in how he responds to Curly and the news of the company's closure, which he takes it as a personal attack in spite of it very clearly having nothing to do with him on a personal level.
For people like Jimmy, a threat to one's image (whether it's a matter of their perception of themselves or, maybe worse, the perception others have of them) brings intense emotional pain. Even though it's clear that Curly meant no personal offense, and likely saw more good in Jimmy than was actually there, Jimmy sees this as a great threat to his own image, and thus identity.
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To be clear, it's not just that Jimmy thinks Curly is looking down on him. It's also that Jimmy needs his role in the company to maintain his image, and he needs to eventually become captain. This is his ultimate goal because the respect and control that someone like Curly has, in Jimmy's mind, is tied to the title he possesses. And Jimmy wants that. He wants respect, he wants to be listened to, he wants power over others. (This is also why Swansea's final speech is so important, in relation to the belief that if one just reaches this next goal, they might feel a little more human, a little more in control, a little more fulfilled, but as Swansea shows us, that's just not the case. And it's true for Jimmy, too. Jimmy isn't magically fulfilled by obtaining the title of captain.)
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But in the beginning, Jimmy has yet to realize that just getting the role of captain won't magically make him a man who is respected, or even a man who is truly in control. He sees no opportunities for himself on earth. The only option is to stay in this company and become a little lord of his own ship... and suddenly that's ripped out from under him. He will never reach the goal he's been chasing for all of this time.
Anya telling him about her pregnancy is the final push he needs to go over the edge.
Part Two: Captain
Returning to the initial reveal that the company is shutting down for a second, I think it's important to keep in mind a few things:
1. The importance of the title of captain in Jimmy's mind.
2. How this extends to his perception of Curly, him being the current captain.
3. Jimmy's self-centeredness preventing him from understanding the feelings and perceptions of those around him.
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When Curly says what he does, Jimmy immediately jumps to the conclusion that Curly sees himself as above everyone else (and most importantly, as above Jimmy), to the point of considering them "dirt." I don't think Jimmy is just projecting his greatest fear (being seen as lesser) onto Curly. I think he's projecting his own perceptions.
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He's placed all of this importance on the title of captain, and thus Curly. The captain is above Jimmy. Jimmy is beneath him, is lesser. And we know how Jimmy treats those he sees as lesser (first Anya, and then the rest of the crew once he's captain, *manipulating Daisuke into putting his life at risk because Daisuke, who is just an intern after all, just isn't important to Jimmy being an example).
I think this is a fair reading because Jimmy does something similar with Swansea when he insists that Swansea is keeping the last cryostasis pod for himself. I understand some might say that this is just Jimmy's attempt to manipulate Daisuke and Jimmy doesn't actually believe it, which is a fair interpretation, but I sincerely think he believes what he's saying in this instance. And I think that because Jimmy sees selfishness as common sense. It's what he would do were he in Swansea's position, and what makes him giving the pod to Curly significant.
Part Three: Anya
So, Jimmy is already hurt and panicking. He sees his chance at power and thus fulfillment slipping away. And then Anya tells him that she's pregnant.
Anya, who he has shown time and time again that he thinks little of.
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Anya, who he clearly sees as beneath him.
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Any mention of the pregnancy, no matter how gently it was worded, would immediately feel like a threat to him on multiple levels. And not only that, but a threat from someone lesser than him. His image, his status, his control, his power—it's already slipping from his fingertips. *It's happening right then, in that moment. It's not just a potential future where he's held accountable in a real way (maybe if Anya involved authorities, or if Jimmy was legally responsible for supporting a child once they returned to earth). It's happening now, because his image is crumbling.
For this reason, I believe I hope this hurts to be directed at anyone and everyone that he sees as "threatening" him.
Anya and Curly have made him hurt. He wants to make them hurt.
He doesn't care about Daisuke and Swansea. If anything, he's so caught up in himself and this contorted vision of reality, I wouldn't be shocked if he convinced himself in the moment that they, too, were looking down on him for some reason. (See again, "I know what everyone is thinking. The way they look at me." Obviously this is said in the midst of his spiral, after the crash, but I wouldn't doubt the paranoia was there before that moment.)
He wants to make them hurt as they've hurt him. He may also want to make himself hurt in order to vent out his emotional pain. If not, death may simply be the easiest way to escape pain and the threat the future holds in his mind.
*Part Four: Without the Guilt
In addition to all of this, I think crashing the ship (making them hurt) is his vision of what Curly has done or is doing to him. This is how he "leave(s) the dirt behind."
To understand this, I'm going to include the birthday conversation and the conversation between Jimmy and Curly about crashing the ship.
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Jimmy: ... So I guess you got what you wanted. Without the guilt. Curly: Jim... If I had known... Jimmy: I can go back to my, how'd you put it? "Struggle of a life?" Jimmy: Anya never got into medical school because she's... well, let's be real. Jimmy: And how many employment years Swansea got left in him? Jimmy: Daisuke will be fine, mommy and daddy have him covered. So there's that at least. Jimmy: But you. Headed for bigger and better, right? Curly: I'm just... I'm just working on my life being a place I don't have to fucking escape! That's what I was trying to tell you, nothing mor- Jimmy: We're the ones you're trying to escape! Leave the dirt behind now that your boots are clean! Curly: That's not what I meant. Jimmy: It is what you meant. Jimmy: You just couldn't frame it to yourself in a way that kept you as the hero. Jimmy: Abandon the crew but remain the model captain.
To me, this is one of the most important and revealing sections of the game. Jimmy is not only projecting onto Curly, he's telling us exactly what he's going to go on to do (or attempt to do) when he becomes captain.
In addition to this, we see his manipulation on full display as he twists Curly's words and won't allow him even a moment to truly speak beyond a few lines he manages to get in between Jimmy's ranting.
That's not to mention we see the beginning of yet another pattern in Jimmy's behavior: getting a person to admit their weakness, then using it against them and/or using it to hurt them (he does this with Daisuke, for example, when he hears Daisuke's fears/desire for approval and proceeds to use it to get Daisuke in the vent). Here, Curly speaks about feeling trapped. Jimmy will soon trap him in a crashed ship just as much as he traps him in his own body, which Jimmy will proceed to drug. But I'll return to that.
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Curly: Jim. I can fix this. Jimmy: What do you think will happen when we get back? Hm? Curly: We can figure all of this out. You and me. Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy: All I ever hear is how great of a leader you are. God, it's so annoying. Jimmy: But, now... What do you think will happen now when we get back? Curly: We'll fix this together. Jimmy: Everything you and I worked for in our lives. Accomplishments, changes. Jimmy: None of it will matter. Curly: You've gotten through difficult situations before. This time won't be any different. Work through it, one day at a time. Jimmy: It's not just me, is it? Jimmy: You were supposed to be the one who had everything under control. You said so yourself. Jimmy: The ship, this crew, everything that happened here... Jimmy: This was your responsibility, Captain. Jimmy: That is what you'll be hearing the rest of your life. Take responsibility. Jimmy: Or this can all be remembered as a tragedy. Jimmy: Despite what must have been the best efforts of its acclaimed captain. Jimmy: The Tulpar crew was never found. Jimmy: No one survived to tell the tale. Take responsibility. Jimmy: You're standing at the top. Jimmy: Feet in cement. Jimmy: I get it now. Right? Curly: ... Curly: ... Right.
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This is an important moment, because aside from the scene in which Jimmy is approaching Curly while he's on fire, it's the only other time that I can recall the game separating from their perspectives to allow us to see them both, standing together.
We see a flash of Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy begins to pull away. Another flash. He continues to draw back. Another. He turns towards the cockpit.
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Jimmy sees through Curly. He sees Curly's worst where Curly sees only Jimmy's best, and he's more that willing to use that against Curly.
He sees a man who is not going to do what's hard. He sees a man who is going to try to "fix it" only in the most superficial sense. A man who confuses the appearance of cohesion and peace with the reality of it. Someone who sees the rocking of the boat as a manifestation of taking action against a wrong rather than the wrong itself.
In the end, it seems they're both ruled by appearances. And Jimmy will soon rip appearances in every sense from Curly's fingertips. He will make him hurt. He will get his revenge. He'll turn Curly into the villain, taking away his title, his respect, and his very face.
For daring to look down on him, Jimmy will turn Curly into dust.
But I think these words—I hope it hurts—come back to haunt him.
Part Five: The Eye as a Mirror
Like I said, I went back to try to find each time the phrase is used. There's the beginning, of course, but then there's the pregnancy sequence, for lack of a better name.
When the Polle monstrosity emerges from the giant uterus (?), we see these words:
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In this sequence, we see a lot of different images and concepts connected: Anya's pregnancy and thus her sexual assault by Jimmy are tied to Polle and the company. The emergence of the Polle monster from the giant uterus (and the idea of the removal of the pregnancy) is tied to the mouthwash, as it's an act of "cleansing." This is all then tied to the phrase I hope this hurts.
Unless I missed something, these are the only two moments when the phrase is used: When Jimmy crashes the ship, and when he's experiencing this hallucination.
All clean! Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth, huh? Through wreckage! Through silence! Wash it away! All day fire fresh!
"Clean" is important immediately. "Leave the dirt behind you now that your boots are clean," Jimmy says. Because in this accusation is Jimmy's actual intentions himself. He wants to rise above others and clean himself from their filth. Now, he wants to clean himself of his sins.
I think "Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth" is mocking him. A direct challenge to the thought that he could ever truly be "cleaned," at least in the ways he's so desperately trying to go about it. *Not to mention how this connects to the mouthwash, as it might get that 99%, but there's always going to be 1% left.
"Through wreckage" obviously refers to the wrecking of the ship, but also of their lives. All by Jimmy. Though I wouldn't doubt in his mind it connects to the wreckage of consequences (ie. Anya's pregnancy resulting from Jimmy's actions).
"Through silence" I feel connects back to Jimmy's attempts to keep everything quiet, both literally and figuratively.
"Wash it away" also has a mocking edge, as if stressing the foolishness of Jimmy's attempts to treat these very serious events as if it's all just "dirt" he can wipe off.
Finally, we see "All day fire fresh!" This line stresses the connection to the mouthwash, of course. It also calls to mind the concept of cleansing by fire. Important considering Curly.
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And after each, I hope it hurts. Jimmy's statement of pure, childish rage. His desperate desire to make others hurt as he hurts. To lash out, to get revenge. To have control until the very end.
This is also why Polle haunts him. Because he, as a man desperate for control, will always be under the thumb of the company even with that title of captain. That hurts him. And maybe the closest thing to ever recognizing the evil he's done to Anya is envisioning it as similar to the company's control, but even that feels like a mockery because he's so horrifically incapable of seeing her as a human being that she's been reduced to her womb. That's what he's really afraid of, in the end, and the fear feels like something else is in control. It makes the organ feel giant, larger than him, capable of hurting him.
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When I was watching the playthrough, I thought that there was going to be four or five "I hope it hurts." I thought it would represent each person Jimmy hurts, or all of them, because he hurts himself too. When the sixth came, I thought so much for that theory. But then, I thought about it and there's the fetus. That makes six.
So, I hope this hurts means "I want to hurt you the way I've been hurt. The way you've hurt me." It's Jimmy saying that if his life has been wrecked, he'll wreck yours. It's Jimmy saying he'll shut you up. It's Jimmy saying he'll burn everything down if it means he can maintain control, or even just the illusion of it.
Part Six: Pain
But I think there's another side to this. Like some of the other lines I said feel are mocking him, I think I hope this hurts turns against Jimmy, especially here. And more than that, pain (and by extension, pain medication) plays a massive role in the game, after all. So I hope this hurts feels as if it haunts every moment where it's involved.
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Jimmy says this the first time he gives Curly his pills. Pain is how we know we're still living.
The pills are clearly connected to death from the start. If "pain is how we know we're still living" then pain is connected to life and freedom from it is connected to death. That's saying nothing of Anya's use of the pills to kill herself. I think this connects back to the crash, as well. If life is pain, death is an escape from it.
I think it's also significant that the act of swallowing the pain pills is in and of itself painful.
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The pills that are meant to take the pain away become a method of torturing Curly. It's a way to make him hurt, and to exert control over him. Even something that should take away his suffering is just an extension of it.
At one point, Jimmy says "Once these are out, we'll have nothing to keep him quiet." In this sense, the pain pills are meant to suppress, not to heal (Through silence!). They're supposed to shut Curly up and keep him from expressing his anguish in the only way he has left (the noises that disturb Jimmy's sleep).
Others have compared this, or Curly's state, to how Anya has been forced to bottle up her own suffering. Jimmy is keeping them both quiet, or at least attempting to. The ultimate form of keeping them quiet would be to, of course, kill them all.
The pills can also be seen as an attempt to hide or conceal the hurt that has been caused rather than to actually heal. In this way, they're like the mouthwash: something that's not really helping, just covering up an issue (and thus making it worse). And the mouthwash represents Jimmy's attempts to "fix" things. He doesn't actually want to make things right, because that would mean taking accountability. He wants to protect his own ego by "fixing" things in a mimicry of Curly "fixing" things in which he wants to create a sense of "rightness" without actually adressing what (or who) has been wronged. Jimmy can't stand to look at himself, because he would see that he really is constructed of his worst moments, or at least, that's what I suspect he would see.
Conclusion
Considering all of this, I hope this hurts can then become a mantra about living in spite of everything. I hope this hurts means "I hope I'm alive in the end. I hope we're all alive in the end." It could mean "I hope I'm allowed to hurt, because I am hurt, and the harm that's been done to me must be seen rather than suppressed and hidden." It could mean "You can't keep me quiet. You can't ignore or hide what you've done to me."
Maybe most of all, I think it means I hope you reap what you sow. When it's turned back on Jimmy, when it's almost mocking or haunting him, it becomes in part about his emotional weakness. About his inability to look at himself and his reality without experiencing the pain of humiliation. I don't think he ever experiences half of the pain he's inflicted on those around him. Still, he has to deal with the fact that his attempt to hurt others instead of facing himself has caused him more pain rather than taken it away as he'd hoped.
And I think that's why he suddenly decides to make Curly a "hero" instead of a "villain." There's a tipping point where he's pushed into a corner. The pain is too much. He hasn't confronted his own actions in any real way, but he's done enough that he can't stand to save himself anymore. It hurts too badly to live with what he's done. It sends him into another stage of fantasy/delusion. The only thing left to do is what he intended to from the start: kill himself to escape and damn Curly to a slow death. Because to go on living in spite of the pain would be the right thing to do, in a sense. To live in the hell of his own creation. To face what he's done. But instead, he'll entrust those heroics to Curly.
This feels barely coherent in the end, so I might come back in a few days and say wow what the fuck was I talking about? But hopefully there's something here that captures some truth. Again, please feel free to correct me if I'm misremembering anything or if I missed something.
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solar-wing · 8 months ago
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⚣ Badass 👊
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⚣👊 A/N → @natef458 Last request from my previous account. Now, I can focus on one inbox (at least for now)! Shorter than what I've normally done, but I wanted to keep it simple. Hope you enjoy it! Tamaranean male image generated by AI. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Tamaranean Male Reader | Dick Is Nightwing |
⚣👊 Summary → It's Y/N's first mission as a part of the team since he came to Earth. The Team and their leader Nightwing soon found out just how capable Tamaraneans are in a fight.
⚣👊 Words → 3.3K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
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Under the harsh glow of the moonlight, the Young Justice team converged around the abandoned warehouse where Vandal Savage and his cronies were holed up. Nightwing was co-leading the mission with Aqualad, coming far in his leadership and skill since they had founded the team along with their friend and teammate Kid Flash, and new friends Superboy, Miss Martian, Artemis, and eventually Zatanna.
Many of the original members had grown much from their early days as a part of the team, moving away from their past titles as sidekicks and coming into their own identities as heroes.
One of them was the former sidekick to the Dark Knight, previously known as Robin, who’d realized he wanted to separate himself from Batman and forge his own path and identity. Thus, within a few years after the team’s founding, he left his position and title as Robin and took on the persona of Nightwing.
He’d come a long way from the kid he was before, becoming more of the leader his mentor, and friend Aqualad saw in him. So much so, that the Atlantean had decided to start letting him help co-lead missions, seeing that was their original deal during that first fateful mission on Santa Prisca. And it couldn’t have come at a better time.
Batman had alerted the Team about a new mission concerning Vandal Savage who had just stolen a prototype weapon from a top-secret government facility. This weapon, codenamed "Project Eclipse," was not only a formidable tool of destruction but was clearly another attempt at trying to make humans evolve as a race due to his crazy beliefs in Social Darwinism and survival of the fittest.
By now, the Team knew this could only be the minor puzzle piece to something bigger. But, a weapon of that capability was way too dangerous to be left in his hands. Thus, they were tasked with intercepting Savage and recovering the stolen weapon before he could carry out whatever twisted experiments he had planned.
Only now, their team had grown much larger, bringing in various new members. Some were sidekicks to other heroes a part of the League while others were just regular people who had developed powers and abilities, whether intentionally or not, and were recruited into the team so they could learn how to control them and use them for good.
They’d lost a few along the way, some choosing to leave the team on their own while others had met a different and more grave fate, one of them being the new Robin, Jason Todd, who’d taken Dick’s place after he’d given up the position of Batman’s sidekick. Of course, the team mourned the loss of their fallen teammates, but it didn’t take away from their strength, especially with the other new members who had joined.
One of them being Y/N, an alien refugee who’d made quite the entrance to Earth just two years prior. He’d escaped from the captivity of the Gordanians, an intergalactic race of slavers who’d attacked his home planet, Tamaran, and abducted him as a slave in the process.
But, the slavers were ignorant of the fact that Tamaraneans gained strength from sunlight. So, when traveling closer to Earth within view of the distant sun of the solar system and after encountering the inherent unpredictability of space travel, Y/N seized his opportunity for escape, breaking free from his confines and escaping the vessel.
They’d pursued after him, hot on his trail as he made his way onto Earth, landing in the unsuspecting municipality of Happy Harbor. Unknowingly, but thankful in the end, his arrival had caught the attention of the Young Justice team, whose base was located in the nearby mountain and had come to his rescue.
It’d definitely been an interesting first meeting, considering none of the Team could understand him since he was speaking an alien language they’d never heard of. That’s when Y/N took it upon himself to lock lips with the Boy Wonder, who had yet to give up his identity and position as Batman’s sidekick.
Apparently, Tamaraneans possessed the ability to learn language through skin contact. It didn’t have to be done explicitly through kissing, but they were also a very direct and forward race when it came to their feelings. Being a race ruled more by emotion than reason.
Simply put, Y/N found Dick attractive and planted one on him so he could learn English, much to the then Boy Wonder’s surprise, but also enjoyment. He didn’t know much about Tamaraneans, but, judging by YN’s appearance, it definitely had to be a planet full of attractive people. But, he only had his eyes on one at that moment.
Now, two years later, Y/N had become an integral member of the Young Justice team, his journey from alien refugee to valued ally a testament to his strength and resilience. Despite the initial language barrier and clear cultural differences that in the early stages separated him from his teammates, Y/N had quickly adapted to life on Earth, his determination to learn and grow matched only by his unwavering commitment to the team.
Y/N brought a unique blend of strengths and abilities to the Team, complementing and enhancing the skills of his fellow teammates in various ways. His Tamaranean heritage bestowed upon him powers and abilities that were on par, if not equal, with those of Superboy, making him a formidable force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.
Like Superboy, Y/N possessed superhuman strength, allowing him to perform incredible feats of physical prowess and to go toe-to-toe with even the most powerful adversaries. His invulnerability made him virtually indestructible, able to withstand the most devastating attacks without so much as a scratch.
But what truly set Y/N apart was his extreme proficiency in hand-to-hand and weapon combat. Trained from a young age in the art of combat on his home planet of Tamaran, Y/N was a master of various fighting styles and techniques, able to hold his own against opponents of any size or skill level.
In addition to his formidable combat skills, Y/N possessed the ability to generate energy bolts and blasts from his hands and eyes, a power known as star bolts on Tamaran. These powerful energy blasts were capable of incapacitating even the most resilient foes, adding a deadly edge to Y/N's already impressive arsenal of abilities.
Together, Y/N's strength, combat prowess, and energy manipulation abilities made him a major asset to the Young Justice team, capable of turning the tide of battle in their favor with a single well-placed strike. Whether facing off against street-level criminals or cosmic threats, Y/N stood ready to defend his teammates and protect the innocent, his unwavering determination and indomitable spirit serving as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.
As the Team faced off against Vandal Savage and his henchmen in the abandoned warehouse, the air crackled with tension and anticipation. Nightwing and Aqualad led the charge, their years of experience and leadership guiding the team through the chaotic fray.
Superboy, Miss Martian, and Zatanna with a few of their other teammates had split off to retrieve the stolen weapon, leaving Nightwing, Artemis, Kid Flash, and Y/N to hold off Savage and his goons. The battle was fierce and relentless, with Savage's forces proving to be formidable adversaries.
As Nightwing faced off against Vandal Savage in the dimly lit warehouse, the villain was proving himself to be a most formidable foe. Savage's millennia of combat experience and immortality made him a threatening force, his strength and resilience far surpassing that of any ordinary adversary.
The two circled each other warily, each seeking to gain the upper hand in the deadly dance of combat. Nightwing moved with the grace and precision of a trained acrobat, his nimble movements a stark contrast to Savage's brute force and relentless determination.
With a calculated look, Savage launched himself at Nightwing, his fists crashing down with bone-crushing force. Nightwing barely managed to dodge the blow, rolling to the side and countering with a swift kick to Savage's midsection.
But, he shrugged off the attack as if it were nothing. With a savage grin, he came at Nightwing again delivering multiple strikes that drove the young hero further back towards the edge of defeat.
Even with his own experience and endurance in battle, Nightwing found himself struggling to keep up with the relentless assault. His movements grew sluggish and tired as his body began to succumb to the pain of the attacks, his mind racing as he searched for a way to turn the tide of battle in his favor.
As he staggered back from Vandal Savage's brutal onslaught, his muscles burning with exhaustion and his mind reeling from the relentless barrage of attacks, he knew that he was on the brink of defeat. With Savage bearing down on him, his fists raised for the final, devastating blow, Nightwing braced himself for the inevitable impact, steeling himself for the pain that was sure to follow.
But just as Savage's fist came crashing towards him, a streak of emerald energy shot through the air, intercepting the attack with pinpoint precision. Nightwing's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched Y/N swoop in, his Tamaranean abilities allowing him to move with speed and agility unmatched by any ordinary mortal.
With a powerful surge of energy, Y/N deflected Savage's blow, sending the immortal villain stumbling backward with a grunt of rage and frustration. Nightwing could hardly believe what he was seeing as Y/N stood before him, his expression determined and his eyes blazing with determination.
But the battle was far from over, and Savage wasted no time in launching another furious assault. As he lunged towards Y/N, his hands outstretched for the kill, Y/N met him head-on, his own strength and resilience proving to be more than a match for the immortal foe.
With a swift movement, Savage managed to grab Y/N mid-attack, his grip like iron as he sought to crush the life out of the young hero. As he tightened his grip around the Tamaranean’s midsection, he was despondent to see Y/N unfazed by his move, his expression calm and determined as he looked Savage straight in the eye.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am stronger than I look," Y/N declared, his words resonating with undeniable strength and conviction no matter how soft they were spoken.
As he spoke, a flicker of determination ignited in Y/N's eyes, the vibrant emerald glow intensifying until his eyes shone with a brilliant radiance. The Tamaranean brought his foot back before unleashing a devastating kick to Savage's chest, the force of the blow sending the mastermind staggering back. His expression contorted with pain and surprise despite his strength and healing as he struggled to maintain his footing against the onslaught.
As Savage stumbled backwards, Y/N seized the opportunity to press his advantage, launching a relentless barrage of attacks that left the immortal villain struggling to keep up. Meanwhile, Superboy, Miss Martian, and Zatanna had succeeded in securing and disabling the prototype weapon, turning the tide of battle in their favor.
As the battle raged on and the rest of the team rallied to their side, they watched in awe as the Tamaranean held his own against Savage and his goons, his strength and resilience shining through with every strike.
He was relentless, pressing his advantage with unwavering determination as he launched into a relentless barrage of attacks. Each strike fueled by an inner fire and a fierce determination to protect his teammates and emerge victorious against the forces of evil.
Also, no one was allowed to lay hands on his leader like that without repercussions. Vandal truly did not know who he was fucking with.
As Nightwing watched Y/N in the heat of battle, a wave of admiration washed over him, mingled with a sense of awe that bordered on reverence. His eyes traced the contours of his form, noting the fluid grace with which he moved and the unwavering determination etched upon his features.
In the flickering light of the warehouse, the Tamaranean seemed to glow with an inner fire, his emerald eyes ablaze with determination as he faced off against the immortal menace of Vandal Savage. Nightwing couldn't help but be captivated by the sight, drawn to the raw strength and resilience that seemed to emanate from Y/N's very being.
But it wasn't just his physical prowess that impressed Nightwing. It was the strength of his spirit, the unwavering resolve that burned brightly within him even in the face of overwhelming odds. There was something undeniably magnetic about Y/N, something that stirred a longing within Nightwing's heart that he couldn't quite put into words.
With a determined nod, he rose to his feet, his own resolve renewed as he prepared to join the fray once more.
Together, Nightwing and Y/N fought with a synchronicity that bordered on instinct, their movements fluid and coordinated as they launched a devastating assault on Savage and his forces. As they drove their adversaries back, the rest of the team rallied to their side, their collective strength and determination proving to be more than a match for the forces of evil.
As the battle raged on, Nightwing couldn't help but feel a stirring of something deeper than mere admiration. There was a connection between him and Y/N, a bond that transcended words and defied explanation. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, each complementing the other in ways that went beyond the battlefield.
In that moment, as they fought side by side against their foes, the acrobat couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to truly be with the Tamaranean, to share in the triumphs and trials of life as partners, as equals, as something more.
But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. There would be time to explore the depths of his feelings later. For now, he fought alongside Y/N with a renewed sense of purpose, his heart filled with admiration and longing for the alien hero who had captured his attention in more ways than one.
Y/N used his incredible strength and ability of flight to help launch Nightwing into the air, while Nightwing used his light and agile nature to deliver a series of lightning-fast blows against the villain. Together, they worked to bring the villain to his knees, their combined efforts finally proving to be too much for the immortal.
As Savage finally admitted defeat with a promise and retreated into the shadows, the Young Justice team stood victorious, proud and relieved smiles etched onto their faces from their hard-earned victory. They all surrounded their co-leader and teammate, making sure he was okay while praising Y/N for his prowess in his battle with Savage.
"Dude! That was like total badass moves out there!" Kid Flash exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe.
"Yeah, I know you've been on the team for a while now, but I haven't seen a more well-deserved ass whooping like that in a while," Artemis agreed, her lips curling into a smirk.
"It truly was a sight to behold. Well done, Y/N," Aqualad added, his voice tinged with pride.
"I'm so glad you're both safe," Miss Martian added, relief evident in her voice.
"Yeah, that was a close call," Superboy chimed in, his expression serious.
Nightwing couldn't help but chuckle at their enthusiastic praise, his gaze drifting to Y/N. The Tamaranean smiled, his eyes sparkling with appreciation and gratitude at the praise.
"Thank you. Though, I think my friend here is deserving of just as much credit," he replied, gesturing to the former Boy Wonder.
"Oh, no, you definitely did most of the heavy lifting," Nightwing insisted, shaking his head. "If it weren't for you, I would've been a goner."
"I do not know about that. You were holding your own quite well before I arrived. But, we make a good team, do we not?" Y/N mused, his smile widening.
"Yeah, we do," Nightwing agreed, his cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment.
"And now we know, the next time we need to save our butts, just throw Nightwing into mortal danger and Y/N goes into god mode," Kid Flash teased, breaking the mood.
"Dude!" Nightwing hissed, punching his best friend on the arm.
"Yeah, payback, Robby-Poo," Kid Flash, still using his old nickname for his friend despite his name change.
"Well, we should probably head back to headquarters. We need to get this weapon back to the cave," Aqualad interjected, ever the voice of reason.
"Sounds good to me," Superboy agreed, already heading for the exit.
As the Team made their way out of the warehouse, a warm feeling settled over Nightwing's chest, his gaze lingering on the Tamaranean. There was no doubt in his mind that they would continue to make a great team, both on and off the battlefield.
"Hold on a sec, Y/N. We'll be right behind you, guys!" Nightwing called out to his teammates.
The rest of the team shared a knowing glance, a few snickers, and suggestive grins exchanged between them. But they didn't say anything, opting instead to give their friends some privacy.
Except KF who was giving the vigilante a thumbs-up and a wink.
Nightwing rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the blush didn't fade.
Once they were alone, Y/N turned his attention to the former Boy Wonder, his expression curious.
"Is everything okay, Dick? Are you still hurt?" He asked, voice lilting with curiosity.
The acrobat tried not to blush at Y/N's use of his name, the way it rolled off his tongue like liquid gold. Even though they were technically still in the field and should be addressing each other by their alias names, he didn't mind it. Not one bit.
"No, no, I'm fine. Really. Just wanted to say thank you," Nightwing assured, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"For what? Defeating Vandal Savage?" Y/N questioned, confusion written across his features.
"Well, yeah, that, too. But, I meant, thank you for saving me," Nightwing explained, his tone growing soft.
"Oh," Heat growing under the Tamaranean's golden cheeks.
"I'm not gonna lie, I was worried for a second. But, then you came swooping in and turned the tables. I knew I was safe," the acrobat confessed, his gaze locking with the Tamaranean's.
"You are most welcome. It was an honor to fight alongside you. I would not have let any harm come to you, Dick," Y/N replied, his expression earnest, though he wanted to say more.
Ever since he came to Earth, he'd grown into the Earthling culture, which meant he was a lot less direct with his feelings, which proved to be much more frustrating than he thought. Especially when it came to expressing the lingering feelings he had for his leader.
"Yeah, I know. Thanks," the acrobat said, offering a small smile.
"Of course," the Tamaranean responded, returning the gesture.
"We should probably get going. The others are waiting for us," Nightwing pointed out, though he didn't want the moment to end.
"Yes, they are," Y/N agreed, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"Maybe after we're finished filing our reports and debriefing, we can hang out? Catch up on things, or whatever," the acrobat suggested, his heart racing in his chest.
"I would like that," the Tamaranean replied, his cheeks flushing pink.
"Cool," Nightwing nodded, trying his best not to grin like an idiot.
"Yes. Cool, indeed," Y/N echoed, his eyes sparkling with gleefulness.
"You two coming or what? Let's go," Kid Flash yelled from the warehouse entrance.
"Yeah, yeah, we're coming!" Nightwing called back, rolling his eyes.
With a final shared smile, the two heroes made their way toward their teammates, the promise of a new beginning and a blossoming relationship hanging in the air.
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☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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bandtrees · 26 days ago
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the thing about curly is that it feels like a copout to describe him as "too nice" but i think that really is the situation with him. i feel when talking about him as a leader there's a lot of talk about the anya and jimmy stuff but i feel not a lot about the parts that show his passiveness causing problems before then.
most notably, that he let daisuke aboard a ship not made for five people, and that he told the others about the layoffs before he was meant to. both very well-intentioned, interpersonally Nice things to do, that were welcome as a friend who cares about the crew, but less so as an authority figure who's supposed to have a spine about those sorts of things.
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he's not really thinking about the repercussions for revealing this information, or the impact it'll have on his crew's mental states in the months they have left for their last haul, because in his eyes - and this is something he tells both anya and jimmy - they'll Get Through It Together. curly is someone who reassures the people around him a lot in his dialogue. he cares a lot about people but does, in fact, care too much, and when it comes down to it, he can't do much except care.
an important thing to note with the anya situation (specifically in contrast to the "curly only cared about jimmy" take i see around) is that curly does reassure her, and i think did genuinely believe what he was saying when he told her everything was going to be okay and that they'd figure it out together. it's just that he also told those things to jimmy, and when you're a person as passive as curly, if you don't put your foot down people are going to weasel in and use that as an opening.
curly was a good friend, but not a good leader. there's only so much that reassurances without tangible action can do for someone in the state anya was in. he likely let daisuke board because he felt for and liked him, disregarding the fact it was literally unsafe for him to do so because of the pod situation. he told the crew they were getting laid off because it felt right for him to do so, he acted as a "friend" and not as a "leader".
and this is really cool contrast to jimmy, imo, who has no sense of compassion and is quick to take impulsive, ruthless decisions he expects praise for by sole virtue of being hard. jimmy would rather mouthwash someone's open wounds and force another to commit cannibalism than mercy-kill them - because someone dying under his care means he failed, and he can't have that, and so he will drag out their suffering for as long as humanly possible. he can't actually face the consequences of his actions.
both of them have this mantra of "i can fix it" without actually fixing much of anything - however i think curly differs in that he's a compassionate person who doesn't mind being on the same level as his crew (for better or worse), meanwhile jimmy can never shake the title of "captain" and the inflated sense of importance it gives him and that he projects onto curly. curly cares but doesn't act, jimmy acts but doesn't care.
BUT - i think a really interesting thing here too is how they act in the immediate danger of the crash. jimmy hides with his hands on his head, catatonic, while curly rushes in to try and salvage the ship even when it'll endanger him. jimmy is unable to face the gravity of what he did, while curly - even if he's not a good captain socially - is willing to put himself in danger to fix it. it gives the impression that while curly can't raise a hand against other people, he's willing to go down with his ship and put others before himself.
and putting others before himself is his entire relationship with jimmy, no? curly's dialogue with his crewmates is very reassuring, with a generous "we'll fix it together" attitude (see his patience with daisuke in the foam scene, and how he offers to do jimmy's psych eval when anya doesn't want to (compared to how jimmy would likely handle those situations, as we see when he yells at anya when asked to do tasks for her)) - BUT i would argue it's even moreso apparent with jimmy.
curly's povs, in my mind, offer the views on characters we don't see from jimmy's perspective, as jimmy cherrypicks scenes to paint anya as incompetent, daisuke as stupid and spoiled, swansea as mean and unstable - with curly, we see anya is gossipy and likes to joke around, daisuke is willing to fix problems by himself even if he struggles, et cetera. and with curly, we see, in how he talks to and about jimmy, he's very... concerned for him? and walks on eggshells around him.
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^^^ after jimmy has pivoted a conversation curly was having about his life to be about his insecurities, and curly takes the bait and reassures him.
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in general, he seems wary of jimmy as someone who will blow up if not reassured.
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and he talks to, and about him, like he's taken on this quasi-therapist "responsible" role for him. he has this very... mental health-centered way of talking to jimmy - we'll fix it together, one day at a time, hey i believe in you, etc. which gives me the impression of, and this happens very often, a very trusting and overly-empathetic guy who's been roped into a relationship with someone whose safety and actions have been made his responsibility.
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(i obviously don't mean this to woobify curly, or to diminish the game's commentary on rape culture, but rather to express that there's more to curly's behavior around jimmy than "shitty men cover for eachother".)
and i think one of the ultimate tragedies of curly's character is that, in the end, what jimmy projects on him -
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-was true. this is how curly thought, before he was forced to come to terms, via experiencing jimmy's abuse of him, witnessing anya's suicide and the others' bodies, that jimmy was a monster who was never going to care about curly the way curly cared about him.
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but, because jimmy views curly, now disabled, as a complete blank slate because he physically cannot speak for himself, jimmy continues to project upon him the dynamic that did exist between them - no matter the horrors he puts curly through, because if curly let him get away with it then, he'd let him get away with it now, right?
and when curly didn't put his foot down when it mattered, he now no longer can - and so jimmy's words, as long as he's as unable to speak for himself as he was back then, will be in his mouth forever.
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:(
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starlight-bread-blog · 1 year ago
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Why Stolas is a Terrible Person/Character
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Oh this will be long. In this post I will cover why Stolas is a character that fundamentally fails at everything it tries to accomplish. I probably have to say that you can love Stolas. That's just why I hate him.
Trigger warnings for: Racism, casteism, power dynamics, sexual assault, sa apologism, abuse, and neglectful parenting. A lot, I know, but that's Stolas.
His Actions in S1
Despite the title, there will be two examples from season 2.
Racism/Casteist
Stolas is from the upper caste, a royal. He seem to often fetishize imps, or the fact that he's sleeping with someone who's less than him. I even saw fans pointing this out. He has empathized Blitzø being an imp in a sexual context.
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(Notice the use of words: "little", "plaything", to me this is blatant racism and fetishism).
He also showed a certain lack of empathy for his imp butler.
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Stolas isn't particularly violent, he doesn't choke people left and right. He's just angry, at Stella, so he decides to.. choke the imp.
Stolas has been dehumanizimg imps. Fetishizing an imp for being an imp, calling him an "impish little plaything", and he has been willing to choke an imp just because he was angry at something unrelated. He's racist and casteist.
Treatment of Blitzø
"Treatment" is putting it lightly. In the first episode, Stolas does something inexcusable that will taint their dynamic for all of season 1. First, he sees Blitzø in a vulnerable position, where he cannot think or negotiate. Thus, stripping him of what little choice he has on what he's about to offer.
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What Stolas is saying is, "Fuck me or I'll shut down your business". This deal he makes is just a threat with extra steps. Which is a real life abuse tactic called Quid Pro Quo:
"Quid pro quo harassment occurs when someone in a position of authority over another directly or indirectly demands sexual favors in exchange for some benefit, or to avoid some detriment in the workplace".
One element I haven't brought up yet, is the political power imbalance. Stolas is royalty, one with a lot of power, influence, credibility, etc. Blitzø has non of that. Other characters have commented on that the fact that Blitzø even has a business is a miracle.
There are so many layers of imbalance and how Blitzø has no choice or agency. A royal is """offering""" the powerless a Quid Pro Quo while he's in a life threatening situation.
And their dynamic looks exactly like you'd imagine. Stolas consistently sexualizes him against his consent. (As it's been established, Stolas's racism feeds into this). And refuses to do the surface level courtesy, not even calling him his real name (x).
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Stolas treats Blitzø as a lesser being, violates his boundries, forces himself on him, and strips him of all autonomy.
Faliure as a Father
Stolas's role as a father is directly tackled in Loo Loo Land and Seeing Stars. At the beginning, both episodes show Stolas being a good father to Octavia, but does this still hold true in the currect day? Well, no.
In Loo Loo Land, Stolas wants to take Octavia to a theme park. Octavia is 17, and Stolas ignores her when she says she doesn't want to go. (In retrospect, Stolas could be oblivious because he's projecting his experience meeting Blitzø onto Via).
But that's just the start. Stolas then invites Blitzø to the trip and harasses with him all throughout. Essentially, Stolas is forcing his daughter to watch as he harasses "the homewrecker", all the while he's supposed to be with her, on a trip she didn't even want to go to.
After a whole day of this, as expected, Octavia runs away. Stolas chases her. (And of course, he's still thinking of Blitzø on his way to find Via). There's an apology scene that looks deep, but when you dissect it, it's rather empty.
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Stolas never actually provided an explanation as to why he just did what he did, nor of the "drama" with Stella. There is nothing here. Octavia only makes up with him because he said he isn't gonna leave her. Which is bare minimum.
After he realizes that his affair hurts his daughter to the point where she feared he's gonna leave her, what does he do? What practical actions does he take to improve? Divorce Stella? Cut off his deal with Blitzø? Explaine the situation?
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Nothing. And now we see he's willing to stand up on a stage and let people know.
In Seeing Stars, Stolas bashes Via's mother to her. Which, does she know about their situation? Does she not? She isn't shown to hate or.. anything Stella. Is he hiding the situation (which I'll cover), while also trashing her mother? That's impulsive and negligent.
But that's nothing. She later runs away, Stolas is stressed as he should be, but the second they arravie on earth he's all calm and everything's normal.
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When his daughter is missing. When he is shown to be stressed, it's for the sake of plot. But he's willing to just chill, watching Blitzø's show.
Stolas is, dare I say it, neglectful. He might care about his daughter, but he's proven that she's not enough of a priority to focus on her when it matters.
Cheating
Yes, I know what ended up being revealed, I'll cover that. In season 1, the relationship is presented to not be perfect before Stolas cheated.
But there were instances that showed that what Stolas did changed their relationship for the worse. (Some additional rebuttals).
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It could have been a loveless marrige, they could have fallen out of love, they could have been arranged. But their relationship was manageable. Love or no love, it's a committed relationship. and Stella didn't deserve to get cheated on.
Who was Stolas?
Stolas's behavior is common among royals. Stella has no problem throwing said butler at Stolas (S1 E2), and the Goetias are shown to be casteist. They're untouchable privileged assholes.
Stolas was born that wealth, never having to suffer the consequences of his actions. Always putting himself first, hurting others. He doesn't mean to, he wants for everyone to be happy, he does care.
However, when it actually matters, he acts on his worst tendecises with no self control. He never had to learn self control. That is, until Ozzie's.
Before Ozzie, Blitzø and Stolas are at obligation. Stolas's actions had tainted them. There was one redeemable moment: He saved Blitzø's life. Stolas did something for him. But this one act of goodness doesn't magically fix everything.
Stolas's family life have been escalating. Stella hated Stolas for cheating and his daughter just had to take it. In Loo Loo Land, he learns the full weight of the damage he caused. And in the next episode we see him, he proceeds to take no steps to improve the situation. In the end of that same episode, we learn that Stella hired an assasin after him. Because he did nothing.
The season 1 finale, Ozzie's, is aware of all of this and absolutely delivers.
The episode starts with seeing Stolas alone, in his big house, miserable. It appears that Stella finally left the house. (Also he later says "Octavia is with her mother this weekend"). He's eating a bowl of cereal, pitying himself, wallowing in his despair. You feel bad for him, he looks so torn down.
And then Blitzø calls. The one he loves, asks him on a serious date. It's hope, it's honest, and it's exactly what he wanted. It's almost as if the universe handed him is fairytale scenario.
Almost. Reality smacks him right in the face on that date. Asmodeus calls him out on losing everything he had. He had a family, a happy daughter, but gave it all up for an affair.
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Blitzø calls him out on treating him like a pet, not earning any of that emotional connection he wants or even communicating it, just violating him, they have nothing.
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The show held him accountable and called him out. While it's not perfect, Stolas is a morally grey character. Now, a character arc was set up where he learns to treat people better. Stolas is exactly the character I want to see from a show like Helluva Boss. He's a horrible person, but nuanced, who does care.
Season 2
Yeah... all of that is thrown out the window. Because apparently, Stolas is just imperfect. He simply made a lot of mistakes. He misread a lot of situations, really it's all just an accident. He's an oblivious victim. So, let's get into the woobification of Stolas.
Surrounded by Evil
In The Circus we're given Stolas's ✨️backstory✨️. And we find out he had such a terrible life.
Stella is, and always was, an abusive evil bitch. From the day she was born. Pure evil.
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So you see, Stolas did nothing wrong. Let me be clear, you are not obligated to stay loyal to your abuser. We can erase "cheater" off the list. But that's the only reason why it's done. So we can erase that off the list, and that we could feel oh-so-sad for him.
Because Stella isn't written to be an abuser. She's a cartoonishly evil. We see a picture of her as a kid where she's the same person. Spongebob villians have more depth than her, you know, the abuser in the adult show.
Helluva Boss reversed an established dynamic where Stella is the victim and Stolas is at fault, except without any of the depth or nuance.
But that's not all. Stolas's dad (Paimon) is also neglectful. By "neglectful" I mean, of course, a Saturday-morning cartoon villain.
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He doesn't remember his name. This is such bullshit. I can buy Stolas having a horrible father. It's also not bad to show Stolas's trauma. What is bad is that the subject matter is handled with less seriousness as the fish fight in Spring Broken. And Helluva Boss did write Crimson as a serious abuser, while the episode still had comedy, but not Paimon.
The reason why all of this is happening, is so we could feel bad for Stolas. They do zero of the work to earn a good story about abuse, but still go "Do you see how sad he is? Look at how they're treating this poor baby!!"
"Recontextualization"
In said ✨️backstory✨️, we also learn that Stolas and Blitzø are childhood friends. But also not really, they just hung out for one day. Where did this come from? How does this enrich the characters? I would tell you, but I don't know. However, what I'm sure of, is that it's done to make Stolas look less problematic.
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DO YOU SEE HOW CUT THIS IS? He isn't just horny for that imp, he is special, it's absoultly pure! Don't worry, totally safe.
Later in the flashback, we see how Blitzø and Stolas reconnected after over 20 years. Apparently... Blitzø was the one who sexually manipulated Stolas, selling him that he wants him.
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All Stolas did was just buying into Blitzø's narrative he was imposed on. It's a role he leaned into, because he thought Blitzø liked it. I.. WHAT???
If this horseshit is true, why did he make this weird r*pe deal with Blitzø? If Blitzø was the one who acted like he's interested at first, and he was sexually exploiting him, why did he lash out at Stolas in Ozzie's? Did it just hold no weight for Stolas? It went from "Don't pretend to have something when you've been harassing me this whole time" to "You misunderstood".
The Stolitz backstory makes no sense, it's cheap, and fixes nothing. No matter what the story is trying to sell, in season 1 Stolas knew what's happening enough to try to force it. And maybe Stolas wanted Blitzø because of a connection, but he still harassed, dehumanized and violated him.
Note: Stolas realizing "he imagined the relationship" is completely ignored one episode later in Seeing Stars. This is a huge deal, didn't he learn? Just further evidence that he's willing to violate the guy. (x)
Before this backstory, we had a story of a selfish man hurting the person he loves while explointing the broken system and the power that he has over him for his own selfish desires that he's forcing on him. Now, we have the same thing, but with fanfic tropes – and the story refuses to confront that.
Casteism is Brushed Off
Helluva Boss pretends that Stolas isn't racist, because he didn't want Blitzø for being an imp, but for being his fanfic trope childhood friend. Which fails to address the disgusting fetishism of Blitzø for being an imp, and he also continued to dehumanize his imp butler in Seeing Stars. He's still racist.
Imperfect Father
In The Circus, Stolas devivers this line: "The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty, was for that girl to have a normal life".
Sounds impressive, he stayed all these years just for his daughter. But that's the thing – it sounds impressive. Every time their relationship is the focus, Stolas is being the scum of the earth. What I see here, is a person. A person who despite being willing to stay passive, acts on his his selfish wants, forgetting to look around him. Mind you, this fact is also being revealed one episode after Ozzie's.
But no, one episode later, in Seeing Stars – that was covered as a prime example of everything I just descriped – Loona says this:
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Yeah. He's just a good father "trying" his "best" and makes some... "mistakes". The Circus did present Stolas as this, but Seeing Stars really solidified how his parenting will be handled moving forward. And I think it's comlete and utter dogshit.
Damsel in Distress
The title is a bit misleading. This section is mainly about Stolas's power being toned down. Both magical and in presentation.
In season 1, he was energetic and enthusiastic, while being able to set his foot down and intimidate when needed. He's still all of those things, but in some instances his characterization made my raise an eyebrow.
In Seeing Stars, he's being weirdly gentle with people kidnapping Blitzø and are later beatting him.
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In Oops, he's excited to start negotiating with literal kidnappers. I have no idea why he's so nice.
(He did harass Blitzø again in Seeing Stars and bashed Striker, all of which isn't soft, but it's also the two moments where he should have shut up).
Further more, both of these conflict rely on Stolas not using his powers for some reason or another. Why didn't he just do whatever he did in Truth Seekers to track Fizz/Via?
About Via, I'm gonna have to call bullshit on the "My powers are limited on earth" nonsense because, for starters, kid Stolas is shown to remember the contents of his books and now he's been studying them for years. And two,
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There is no excuse for Stolas to not use his powers and whenever the show says otherwise it's bullshitting its way out of it.
Even in Western Energy, before Stolas gets captured he was just aimlessly going in and out of his demon form. Why didn't he turn him into stone like he did in Loo Loo Land?
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Stolas has been presented as weaker than he is. He's made to look more vulnerable, less "above it all". He was untouchable, and when he wasn't, it had a harder impact and made sense. Now, I almost forgot he's a powerful demon.
And his characterization is at the core of this issue. At times he's just so kind and gentle with people who should get smacked in their heads.
What about Ozzie's
The big clash, the one that called Stolas out on everything, the one that set him on a genuine path to grow, what about it? How is it addressed while the show tries to pretend he's a good person?
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No, not the message Stolas is looking at, the ones in the background he just scrolled through.
I'm not breaking this down. I refuse. The only reason I put it here is to show how fast it goes. I'm not touching that.
Who is Stolas
Stolas is a moral scapegoat – "a character that is bad, but the book/movie/show portrays them as good". It's characterized by the story twisting itself to make one character look good.
Stolas didn't start out as one, but became one over one season premire and it just kept escalating from there.
Helluva Boss takes place in Hell. A horrible place filled with horrible people, the root of all evil. Stolas fits right in there. He was already problematic, awful, and fed into Helll's broken system. Why trying to cover up his faults? It's Hell, and it was great. But now, we're supposed to pretend he's just flawed.
With the show actively ignoring everything he did, what's left for him? What does he have to learn? How will he grow as a person? How will he improve? What's his character arc? It's nothing. Because everything that happens to him isn't his fault, and at times could just be solved with one conversation.
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ashlynnfall · 27 days ago
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ekko looks for powder in the color blue. the sky, the water, hair, and eyes. blue blooms in the flowers near his tree and weaves through the streets of zaun, leaving trails for him to follow, leading him to something that no longer exists.
ekko looks for powder in light. it emanates from fire and spreads throughout zaun in the night. it's in the fixtures that decorate the streets, and it cascades down onto ekko's hideout, illuminating the mural that commemorates what has been lost. light reminds him of her. her bright smile and her blinding beauty. it revives the past they shared before tragedy struck, of that unforgettable night where they danced under the stars, of that kiss on the ledge...it's an everlasting reminder of his deepest affection.
ekko looks for powder in the gadgets he possesses. he searches for traces of her in the trinkets he collects, tinkering away to create new ones. inventions are where he looks the hardest, reminding himself of the days they spent working on innovative projects together. he thinks of her genius, her drive, and her madness in the craft. the memories bring a comforting smile to his face, which is a rare sight these days.
ekko looks for powder in time, lamenting how much they used to have together. there's a cruel irony in "the boy who shattered time" nickname. he was unable to spend the time he wanted with her, he couldn't shatter time enough to fit his needs. he enjoyed what they spent together, but it was too little. he could rewind time over and over and over again, but he still wouldn't get enough of her. his love for powder is timeless.
ekko looks for powder in his title: the boy savior. yet another cruel irony. he saved the entire world, ensuring the survival of many. in fact, he's spent his whole life saving people. he's always sacrificing his own needs for others as he leads a life of unbridled altruism. in a way, he's making up for being unable to save powder from jinx and silco. the boy savior, capable of rescuing anyone and everyone, except for the love of his life.
ekko looks for powder in the new era of zaun. sevika leading in the council, children running in the streets in glee rather than fear, the people breathing fresh air-it was everything they ever dreamed of. if only she was around to see it. ekko searches for the murals dedicated to her, seeks out the remnants of her hideout, scouts for anyone with leftover stories of her to tell. he observes the elated spirits of the city and bears the pain deep within his smile, reminding him of what could have been.
ekko looks for powder physically. it's not enough to just remember her. he needs to hug her, hold her close, and never let her go. he needs to hear her voice again, to invent with her again, to dance with her again, he just needs her to be here again. powder's absence is impossible to ignore, and ekko's tired of acknowledging it. he wants to be selfishly in love with her, but he can't. the world needed a savior, ekko answered the call.
ekko never stops looking for powder. she's in his head, in his heart, in his memories, in his home-no place is without her image. in his mind, powder's words echo promises of the past, not knowing that they'd be broken in the future. he searches for her in the people of zaun, hoping for the day when someone's face matches the one he craves to see so desperately. his search is endless, hopelessly devoted to a ghost of his past.
ekko finds powder in the hand that extends to him from a large white blimp. blue and pink nails decorate the pale skin covering it, confirming who stands before him. he looks at her bright smile, her pink eyes, the blue hair that grew back to the tops of her shoulders, the beautiful face he yearns to get lost in. he takes her in, processing everything he can see, praying that this isn't some horrible dream or hallucination.
ekko finds powder in the hug that they share, the hands that he holds, and in the lips that kiss him. ekko finds powder in the promises of adventure, in the conversations about their post-war lives, and in the apologies for everything. ekko finds powder.
powder and ekko find each other in love, in the reunion with their surviving friends and family, in the celebrations of a new zaun. they find each other on the dance floor once again, but this time, in the right universe. they bask in each other's arms, refusing to ever let go.
ekko finally finds powder, promising to never lose her again.
a/n: hi! i wanted to give ekko the ending he deserves because he's my fav character and deserves the whole world. timebomb as a couple mean so much to me, so i wanted to write a little story about their reunion after the finale of season 2. i need them together!! i also just adore ekko and powder, and that scene of them dancing in the alt universe was insanely well done. i hope you enjoyed my work, and thank you for reading! any tips of improving my writing or general thoughts on the fic would be greatly appreciated. thank you for your time <3
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northopalshore · 10 days ago
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Northopalshore's
Union predictions & analysis
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♀ This is just a short analytical post. I wanted to apply my knowledge onto my own chart to be used as an example of how to read your placements. I'll link my general guides under this post for you to refer to & try to interpret yours on your own as well. alt title;
(Deconstructing the natal union and how it affects the Union persona chart)
꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧Union in the natal chart
Are the general circumstances of meeting your spouse, the first contact where both start getting aquainted 1st hand with each other whether online or not.
My union asteroid is in Libra (°26 Taurus) in the 8th house. I'll likely meet my FS through some sort of service ( I'm likely the one providing said service). While I'm at home. You can look at my parents' example here.
I'll likely meet him online as everything points to meeting through some sort of research or study based (i.e involving technology or knowledge) service which could mean something related to the occult? Since I own an astrology (occult) blog. It could be related to me doing something new as well here. Perhaps finally offering paid services?
꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ Union in the Union persona chart
Is your first face-to-face meeting or first date. The first time you both get together in real life or romantically.
In my Union persona chart, the sun (natal union) is in the 11th house, conjuncting Jupiter (°28 cancer) in Libra.
Neptune is in Aquarius (°14 Taurus) the 3rd house in retrograde which means talking online a lot. There may be some communication issues at first, finding it a bit difficult to navigate our conversations without seeing each other. Could be different languages too. Literally video calls & texts as the main source of communication.
Union in the Union persona chart is in Scorpio (°14 Taurus) in the 12th house. The first time I'll meet my FS face-to-face will be in a foreign country (involving distant travelling), likely at his house as a first date. It's going to be a private & intimate meeting which is slightly taboo ( I mean who tf would fly over just to meet a stranger at their house??? I would appearantly.) Our dates may mostly be indoors or somewhere with less people around and there won't be anyone with us besides each other.
Ex 1: I have a friend who has her union in the union PC in Leo (°24 pisces ) in 12th house. The first time she met her fiance face to face was at his state (she had to fly to him to meet for the first time). They both met up at a public place & their dates were mostly somewhere with a lot of people & fun things to do i.e arcades, the cinema, the market, the beach & even malls.
Ex 2: Her union persona chart sun (natal union) is in Gemini (°17 Leo) in the 10 house. The MC is in an Aries (°13) degree. She first met him online while doing TikTok live (entertaining people but also putting herself out there).
The significance of asteroid Briede & Groom in the union persona chart;
it shows you what you and your spouse will be doing when you first met. What you're doing right to the point of when you meet them or heard or them.
My Groom is in the 4th house in the Union persona chart. It's in Aries (°6 Virgo) in retrograde. My FS will likely at be at home when he first "meets" me (online), he could be looking for something that day (retrograde) or doing something that he normally does or have been pushing back from doing for a while. He could be searching for something related to himself (placements?).
My Briede is in the 10th house. It's in Virgo (°28 cancer). I'll likely be working on a passion project that is beneficial for my career or just my "job". I will be at home or a place of comfort, doing something I would usually do i.e tend to my blog. For me, it's just another day planning a post or something. Doing something I usually do, researching in the comfort of my own home.
Ex 1: My mom has Briede in the 8th house in Capricorn (°6 Virgo) & Groom in the 11th house in Taurus. She had just started working at my father's hometown as a banker when they first met. A coworker introduced her to a guy who took long-distance driving commissions (that was my dad!). He was working when he met her, & she was at a new town for work.
Ex 2: My friend (same friend from earlier) has Briede in her 8th house in Taurus (°4 cancer) & Groom in the 4th house in retrograde. It's in Sagittarius (°14 Taurus). Both of them were at home when they met. So for starters, she was bored because she had just finished her studies & was waiting for a call back from uni. She decided to try something new (TikTok live) for fun but she also received a lot of "gifts" and treated it as sort of a side hustle lmao. Her fiance wasn't an active watcher, but he had a friend who did & showed her account to him. He was immediately interested and asked his friend to contact her for him lmao. He is from a different state than her.
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Theory & speculation
My prediction of how it's going to go down would be that my FS may be a regular or a passive reader on my blog. He may go through my archive to see what I have to offer ( intellectually). If he's anything like me, he can read both the intention & " reach" certain people have. So he'll likely be stalking the blog in a way. I can't tell when he'll find it but when he does, he will do a bit of his own "research" on it. Down a rabbit hole if you will. Either that or he'll have a friend say "yo check this out" then spiral from there.
It's also a prediction, since if my calculations are correct then I'll see it manifesting in the later half of 2025. Which makes sense when looking at my 2026 SRC, there will be a lot of travelling for me that year which could be related to seeing my FS & 2027 is when Jupiter enters my 7th house in virgo. I have a feeling this post will be brought up again in the future. Looking at my chart, the progression seems to go like this
2025 meeting FS> 2026 dating period/ possible proposal> 2027 proposal & or wedding. It's quite quick lmao, but I guess we'll see. Besides, it pretty much lines up with my natal boda in aries.
It may feel or look rushed to you, but it makes a lot of sense for me. Boda is also in the 2nd house with a Virgo (°18) degree, so it's not a "reckless" marriage either.
There's a lot more information I can dig, but I'll save it for another day.
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Links; My union Masterlist
@northapalshore
@northopalshore union 2024 all rights reserved.
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targaryenluvs · 9 months ago
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MAKE YOU STAY / EDDIE DIAZ
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PAIRING: Dark!Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Your attempt to leave Eddie won’t work, because he won’t let them, or you.
WARNINGS: Obsession, guilt trip, jealousy, possessiveness, sexual content, manipulation gaslighting & entrapment.
WORDCOUNT: 2.3K Words
A/N: Happy season 7 launch!! I got inspired slightly by @megalony and her new Dark Evan series go check it out!!
Gif not mine, credits to the owner!
Life with Eddie use to be everything you could ever dream of. Whether it be slow mornings getting ready together, sharing a shower and helping Chris get ready. Or an absolute hurricane ripping through your home whilst the three of you stumble over each other to get ready after a sleep in.
No matter the time of day, you loved whatever you were doing, as long as they were by your side.
And Eddie’s protectiveness use to be just another aspect of your relationship you loved, until you opened your eyes.
It use to be small, his anger.
An incessant colleague reaching out for tips and aid in a new project, you being a senior member meaning it wasn’t uncommon for people to reach out to you. You were one of the best workers at the company, well respected and loved as well as brilliant. And always willing to help someone in need.
He use to love that about you. Until it followed you home.
Chris was currently at a friends house, leaving the two of you to an inside date night, “Now on what planet would I ever sit and watch four movies with the title ‘Die Hard’. You sure as hell can’t die that many times.” Eddie shook his head as you refilled each of your respective glasses.
“Sure you can, just ask Chimney.” You gasped before swatting Eddies arm, “Be nice! And put on our show.” The murmuring voices of your favourite characters was more than enough to lull you into his arms, content washing over you. Your ringing phone however, was ready to disturb the peace Eddie had longed for all day.
“Let me just grab this.” His hand scooped your phone up before you could, “Just get it later.” His dismissive tone made you frown, “Give me my phone, please.” You leaned over to snatch it, walking into the hallway. Eddie couldn’t help but massage his temple, did you seriously chose a phone call over peace and quiet in his arms?
He hadn’t noticed how often you picked up your phone, until it interrupted him. It happened often. When the two of you were cooking together, soft music and ambience long forgotten. Almost falling asleep, cuddling, and out of the blue the world was falling apart without you. Eddie thought he could handle it, you were needed, that wasn’t your fault, right? But what he also couldn’t handle was the secretive nature.
Why did you always walk away? Were you hiding something?
And now you were coming home later, clanging into the house at 11, or 12. Sometimes even later. “Where were you?” Eddie stood by the door as you hung your jacket, “Jesus, you scared me E.” His arms were crossed, shoulders tense as you made your way to him, a smile too wide for his liking. “Work ran late, m’ sorry.” As you walked away, his hand caught onto your wrist.
“Ow, let go.” Eddies grip loosened as you retracted your arm, soothing it, “What is your problem?” You looked up to view a sweet smile, “Nothing, just worried about you. When you didn’t call, I got so scared. This world, it’s scary Y/n, you know that, especially during these times.”
Your eyes watered involuntarily at his saddened demeanour, “Oh Eddie, I’m so sorry, I should’ve called. That’s my fault, forgive me?” Your arms came around his neck, before trailing down to his chest, playing with his name tag. “I forgive you, I can also think of a way you can make it up to me.”
His smile was mischievous, and intentions impure. “Oh? And what would that be Mr Diaz?” His hand was heavy on your back and slithering lower by the second, “I think we have an appointment with a bed tonight.”
“I have work tomorrow, so do you.”
“Cmon, for me?” His eyes were pure evil, and you were more than happy to give in, even if you were tired. Really damn tired, but he wanted you, so you should give in right? You did give him a fright. “Take me away Diaz.”
If you’d noticed the signs earlier, maybe you could’ve gotten away. His jealousy, when it did rear its head, was an ugly shade of green.
A late night, again.
Eddie had been by the door for 10, sitting for 20, pacing the kitchen and stress-eating for another 10 before he finally settled into bed. Wide awake of course. The opening of his bedroom door caused him to stir. He watched as you slowly moved around, placing your stuff away, putting your phone on charge and then changing.
He sat upright as you yelped, “Eddie! You scared me, again! Why are you sitting in the dark?” His face was drained of warmth, skin cold to the touch. “Was waiting for you, again.” You frowned at his words, “Baby, you know I’m late these days. Better for you to go to sleep than wait up.” He shook his head, burying his head into your stomach as his body relaxed. Your hands raked through his hair gently, “I think you should consider working from home.”
Your hands stopped in their tracks, working from home? The last time you worked from home was during lockdown, and you’d driven yourself half mad. “Why is that?” Eddie glanced up at you, “You’re barely home, Chris misses you, I miss you. Don’t you want to be with us?” You took a deep breath in before smiling, “Of course I do. I- I’ll see what I can do baby.”
His hands quickly dragged you into bed, “Knew you’d understand amor.” Eddie rested his head in the crook of your neck, his hands slowly making their way underneath your shirt.
“Sweetie, I’m tried.”
“I missed you.” You relented, letting him continue. It seemed to be all you were doing these days, bending backwards and over to please him, literally.
The first time you noticed his behaviour was also when you realised you needed space. Not that he’d give it to you. A new coworker, Harry, had invited not only yourself, but your friend Aleya and Jack out to lunch.
He was a nice guy, very eager to learn and never scared by a little constructive criticism. The only problem was probably his overbearing cologne, very pungent? Intense?
You’d also been driven to work that day, courtesy of your boyfriend. You were working shorter days now, completing about an hour or two of work at home now. It had taken some adjusting, after a few forgetful days and about a million texts from Carla with an impatient Chris at home waiting for you.
You spotted Eddies truck pull up as you wrapped up your conversation with the your three lunch goers, “And that’s me, I’ll see you guys on Monday. Thank you so much for lunch!” You reached out to Aleya for a side hug, the same for Jack and a normal hug for Harry. “Tell Eddie there’ll be a fire at my house later tonight, and he better bring Evan!” Jack joked as you waved him off.
Jack may or may not have a huge crush on Evan.
You hopped in, quickly chucking your purse and files into the back seat before kissing Eddie on the cheek. “Hi! How was Chris’s school?” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “Fine.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his shortness, “Something wrong?” He turned onto the highway, knuckles tightly gripping the wheel, “You smell like him.”
“Like who? Harry?”
“That his name?”
You rolled your eyes, “No, it’s actually his father’s, middle name Jesus. Care for some wine Eddie?” Not once, had Eddie ever been physical. But raising his voice? Oh that was fair game.
“You think you’re funny huh? Having lunch with other guys and taking the piss outta me?”
“Nothing happened baby, it was lunch. He’s new and trying to fit in and I’m being nice. There’s nothing to worry about I swear.” The silence permeated in the truck, causing the hair on your arms to raise. You hated the silent treatment wholeheartedly.
“Whatever.”
His change in demeanour could flip like a switch, you always assumed it was him putting up a front. But when Eddie showed up the next day, flowers in hand and looking his sharpest, you were forced to reevaluate. “God I wish my boyfriend was that sweet.” Your project partner whispered as you sighed, “That’s Eddie.”
Even your boss wanted you to go with him, “Take the day off sweetie, you deserve it.” And with a pat on the back and a million swooning interns drooling over Eddie, you were sent on your way.
“I got these for you Y/n/n.” Your favourite flowers, arranged perfectly and smelling divine. Your hands wrapped around the bouquet, “Thank you Eddie, they’re perfect.” His smile caused your heart to race, he looked amazing. The Eddie with you that day was incredible.
His infectious laughter, perfect smile and the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear. That, was the Eddie Diaz you knew and loved. A gentleman, who had eyes for only you. Which is why you couldn’t help but wonder, what made him change? How was it possible to go from absolutely furious and unnecessarily jealous to an angel?
You didn’t want to know, and you didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.
Maybe it was the date, or the fact that you felt as if he deserved an explanation face to face. Either way, if you’d known better, you would have made it away.
“Eddie, we have to talk.” The two of you were currently sitting on the couch, favourite show playing in the background. Eddie hummed along, a slight acknowledgment to your words. “It’s, about us.” Eddie turned the volume down, your sentence piquing his interest.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think, we should break up.”
And with six words, Eddies entire world came crashing down in front of him. What on earth were you talking about? “What did you say?” The smile on Eddies face was anything but sweet or reassuring, a bad attempt at keeping his composure. “You’ve been acting, odd, to say the least.” You stood from the couch as he followed in pursuit, all the way to the kitchen.
“I feel like, all that we’re doing lately is either fighting or sleeping. Every time I come home, you have something to say. Whether it’s about my later nights, about who I was with or what I’m doing on the phone. It’s like I have no privacy at all. I cannot keep a single thing to myself. And if I try to? You blow up at me. I mean last week for example, I tried my hardest to not argue with you by walking away. And all you did was follow me around the house, it drove me crazy. Showing up to my workspace when I tell you I can get more done without random lunch dates. I’m a grown adult but you treat me like a child. And if I stand up for myself I’m cheating. It makes no sense at all Eddie. And I tried to make it work, but I feel like you’re controlling me. I even reduced my hours, because you asked. I moved in even when I wasn’t ready, because you asked. I need a break.” You took a deep breath after your monologue, needing a second.
Turning towards Eddie, he stared straight at you. “I had no idea you felt that way baby. I’m so sorry, I never meant to do any of it. I love you so much, I can’t help but worry. After everything we’ve been through with Shannon,” And there it was, the guilt. It was blinding, clawing its way through you. Shannon. He’d already lost someone he loved, and Chris lost his mother. No wonder he was always to protective over you.
“Hey, I’m not leaving like Shannon okay? What happened was a tragic accident, and I promise nothing like that is going to happen again Eddie.” You immediately engulfed in a hug, his head resting against yours, “I don’t want to loose you, I don’t want Chris to loose you.” Eddie muttered repeatedly as you closed your eyes.
Chris walked into the room, thirsty, tired and curious, “Is something wrong?” You immediately detached yourself from Eddie, wiping away your tears, “Nothings wrong sweetie, did you need something?” He nodded before turning around and walking to his room, “We’ll talk later yeah?” Eddie whispered into your ear before moving ahead.
Sniffles came from underneath Christopher’s blanket, “You alright buddy?” Eddie asked, patting his hair down, “Water.” You watched as Eddie swiftly made his way to the kitchen whilst you sat down, “You need anything else?” Chris’s hand slowly lowered the blanket before smiling your way, “No thanks mum.”
And as quickly as he spoke, he turned over to sleep again. Your eyes were probably protruding out of your head, shock filling your senses. “Mum?” The word sounded foreign on your lips, but apparently comfortable enough on Chris’s.
“He called you mum.” Eddies voice was low, most likely as astounded as you based on the look on his face. You got up slowly, aware of the sleeping boy. You couldn’t help but smile, and kiss his forehead before making your way to Eddie. “I can’t believe it.” Eddies hand came up to wipe away the stray tears before pulling you in and kissing your forehead, “I can.”
“You’re apart of this family baby, always have been.” His words seeped in as he guided you to your bed, whilst you were stuck on autopilot. Chris viewed you as a parent to him, that’s how common you were in his life now, a constant for him to fall back on. He loved you, almost as much as you loved him. Your words weren’t forgotten just swirling in your head, how the hell could you ask for a break now? With this new huge responsibility?
Eddie knew, of course he knew. He was the one encouraging Chris to call you by your new name. Because if there’s one thing Eddie knew he needed, besides Chris?
It’s you, and he’d do anything to make you stay.
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bsd-elle · 2 years ago
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I know that Buddy Daddies is a dumb show with cute moments, and I totally agree.
But I just can't help but marvel at their writing choices.
They could've very easily continued with the sxf narrative, two hitmen adopt a kid for some reason, and hijinks ensues.
But rather, they opted to create a genuinely authentic found family trope, where two adults, both traumatised and not equipped to be parents, have taken it upon themselves to raise a child, to the best of their abilities.
Rei, who's father can't even be addressed with that title, who never had the chance to live his childhood.
And kazuki who never had any parental figures, who's chance at family was ripped away from him, for which he blames himself constantly.
These two people, who come together, to adopt and take care of a sunshine child like Miri, not only do they give her a loving, caring family dynamic, something she wasn't privy to earlier, but the two of them heal through her.
Rei is able to live his childhood, and enjoy his life, has a space where he can show his emotions, without being a stoic figure.
Kazuki, my poor boy, who feels like he doesn't have the right to have a family because he couldn't 'protect' them, now have a chance to raise a child.
And what I love about it is, not once does kazuki project his trauma onto Miri, not once does it seem like he's trying to 'redo history'.
He's very self aware of himself, the trauma he carries, and the mistakes he's made.
Yet, he constantly tries to better himself, and be the best parent to Miri.
Their love for each other is so palpable, obviously with his over protection and physical touch, but beyond that, the small things he does.
'our Miri', 'my girl', 'our genes'.
He fully has accepted Miri into his life, and considers Rei as his co parent, and I... I just love that so much.
Because I imagine this airing in a conservative country like Japan, and even if it wasn't gay parents, this could also be used for adoptions, where some people believe that it's not that same thing as having a blood relationship.
Buddy daddies simultaneously breaks down so many gender roles, and this ideal family notion, by having two male parents.
But more on the writing, Rei's care towards both Kazuki and Miri was so clear.
It's through subtle words, he tags along for everything Kazuki does, he reassures him even though he has no idea what to do either.
And with Miri, my sweet angels, that episode where he refers to himself as her papa, I scream everytime.
At the end of the day, yes, buddy daddies is a dumb show with cute moments, that shouldn't be taken seriously, but it's also a show that tells you that family is definitely something you can have, but it is also something you can choose, the people you choose to have in your life, the people who choose to be in your life, the people who love you regardless of who you are, the people who love you will be there for you, no matter what.
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samwinchesterism · 9 months ago
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in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”
“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.
like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.
anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below
childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah
every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:
“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.
obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.
similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.
or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down  
one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:
“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.
from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”
and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.
and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)
again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.
“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”
the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.
Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.
examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):
2.02 (about John’s death)
Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”
Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”
Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”
2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”
Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon
3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)
SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.
DEAN: I'm not!
SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.
DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.
SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.
DEAN: And how do you know that?
SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.
5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:
SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call
DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.
SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.
DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?
SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.
8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”
10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)
SAM: I'm saving my brother.
CASTIEL: You told Dean—
SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—
CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.
SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.
10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”
11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)
Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…
Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?
Dean: For starters, yeah.
Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.
Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.
Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?
13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)
JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?
SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.
JACK: Why would he be afraid?
SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.
14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]
14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]
14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]
15.17 (self explanatory at this point)
DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!
SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.
like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.
so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago
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Title: Caught In The Spider's Web.
Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spiderverse).
Word Count: 2.8k.
TW: N0n///C0n, AFAB!Reader, Biting, Mentions of Blood, Implied Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Verbal Degredation, Slut-Shaming But In A Projection Way, and Choking.
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“Get back here, qué perra!”
“Keep your voice down, we’re in a museum!” You called over your shoulder, chasing it with a breathless laugh before sparing a glance behind you, to where Miguel was still busy clawing through the layers of haphazardly laid webbing that were currently keeping his chest and arms pinned against the far wall of newly-emptied display. You saw his talons tear through the last of it before turning your attention forward – to the tall, narrow halls of the museum, or more specifically, to the stone archways spaced every twenty feet or so. With a wild grin and one last squeeze to the diamond-studded necklace around your neck, the strap of the rucksack weighing heavy against your back, you shot your webs toward the next archway and flew.
Or, swung, more accurately – with Miguel close on your heels. He was more experienced than you, more used to superhuman strength and animalistic agility and everything that happened when a radioactive spider took an interest in you, but no amount of refined skill could’ve measured up to your raw, unrestrained zeal, to the rush of adrenaline that came with every new heist, every new opportunity to use your new powers. Even in the confined space, you moved erratically; vaulting off of walls and falling into jagged nose-dives, never gaining any distance on Miguel but never letting him catch you, either. More than once, you felt his claws graze your back, heard his low growls and muffled cursing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry. Why would you? You were a superhero, now, even if you didn’t do many heroic things. You felt invincible. You were invincible – at least in that moment. At least before Miguel got his hands on you and put an end to your fun for the thousandth time. “Y’know, I really thought you’d be cool with this,” you went on, bouncing off of a display case a fraction of a second before he crashed into it, shattering the glass. “I’m like Robin Hood, dude!”
There was a half-snarled bark, a flash of red in your peripheral. You threw yourself to the left just in time to avoid a tendril of pulsing, luminescent webbing – earning yourself just enough time to shoot a playful wink back at him. He bared his teeth, in response. “Robin Hood gave to the poor. You just steal and cause anomalies.”
“I’d be poor if I stopped stealing!” Finally, you came to the room you were looking for – an open lobby with a domed, crystalline ceiling – a ceiling with a panel no one ever seemed to remember to lock. You’d left it open on your way in, and if you were lucky, you’d be able to slip out of it without alerting the guards posted at every other exit. After that, it was only a matter of losing Miguel in the dark city (you’d apparently been the only spider-people smart enough to skip the eye-bleedingly bright color scheme) and hiding a place to lay low in your own dimension. You’d have to come back in a few weeks to sell what you’d stolen, but that was something you could worry about later on. You’d earned your haul, tonight. “It’s been fun, Miguel, baby,” You let your swing go wide, vaulting yourself towards the ceiling and landing just underneath your escape hatch. You let yourself hang there for just a second longer than you could afford, flashing another smile toward Miguel before—
 Before you felt his webbing latch onto your lower back, wrenching you away from the domed ceiling and sending you plummeting downward before you could think to react. Your back hit the floor with enough force to crack the marble, your rucksack of stolen art and jewelry landing somewhere to your left and spilling open. With any chance of escaping Miguel gone and your latest haul scattered across the museum floor, you went limp, letting a pained groan slip past your lips. That was the thing about super-durability. The fall hadn’t broken every bone in your body, but your bones didn’t know that.
Miguel was bolting towards you in a second, on top of you in another. You managed to lift your arm, but your web-shooters only responded with a sad, dry grinding – out of ammo, because you always ran out of webbing at the worst times. His hand shot to his mask, his bared fangs catching in the dim light, but you raised your hands in surrender before he could bite down. “Hey, hey, you can save that for the thirst traps. I can spend the next twelve hours catatonic without your help.” With a heavy sigh, you collapsed, letting another wave of aching soreness wash over you before going on. “Take me home. I’m done for the night.”
It took him a few seconds to bite back his anger, to put on that stoic, put-together face you loved to tease him for. Pursed lips, narrowed eyes – all the things that’d fall away as soon as you got on his nerves. “You’re not getting off that easily, this time.”
“C’mon, Miguel, what do you think you’re going to do to me? Lock me in a cell for a couple days? Let your mega-spider bite me? Lecture me until I buy into your ‘great power comes with great responsibility’ bullshit?” Even exhausted and worn down, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. He made himself an easy target, and you’d always loved the taste of low-hanging fruit. “We both know how this works. You toss me around a little, tell me to spend more of my time saving orphaned puppies trapped in burning buildings, then send me back to my own dimension. Don’t tell me you’re gonna break our routine now.”
He didn’t answer, a pressed scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth as he worked off his mask. He hand dropped to the collar of your suit, and you let out another laugh, this one more nervous than the last. “Are you going to take my watch? You know I’ll just make another one when I get home.”
His fist wrapped around your stolen necklace, wrenching it off of you with enough force to snap the silver, jewel-studded chain and send rubies and sapphires scattering around you. You watched the precious gems clatter to the floor, mentally tallying up how much you could’ve gotten for each. Clearly, Miguel wasn’t as concerned with their value as you were. “You’re not going home.”
“Miguel, that’s not fun—”
“Say my name one more time and I swear I’ll—” He cut himself off with a throaty growl, turning his claws toward your chest. Before you could so much as think to panic, the front of your suit had been torn to tattered shreds, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to the open air and thrashing against the hand now wrapped around your neck, clawing at his wrist and kicking at his chest for all you were worth. If Miguel noticed your meager attempts at resistance, he didn’t seem fazed, didn’t feel the need to respond with anything more than a harsher glare, a straighter posture, a row of pointed nails driven that much deeper into the side of your throat. “Cállate. Just shut up and take what you deserve.”
The palm pressed into the base of your windpipe, a flash of sharpened teeth in the corner of your vision, and then, Miguel’s fangs were planted in your neck, his venom sent coursing through your veins. The feeling, while unpleasant, wasn’t alien to you. You were hyper-aware of your joints locking into place, your limbs going stiff and still, a heavy fog forming over the part of your brain that told the rest of your body to get up and fight. He pulled away before the numbness set in, before you could completely float into that void of immobile, oblivious existence, but when you tried to lift your arm, to kick at his chest, your body failed to respond. You cursed under your breath, glaring at Miguel, but he'd already moved on.
A gloved hand worked its way under the tattered remains of your suit, grazing over your lower stomach before cupping your cunt. It was the adrenaline, the high and the sudden let-down. Miguel must’ve known that, but it did little to dampen the condescension in his faint smirk as he collected your slick on his fingertips, swiping the pad of his thumb over your clit and drinking in the way your expression contorted. “Little slut,” he muttered, the scarlet shine of your blood still visible on his fangs. “You’re already soaked. Can’t let someone put their hands on you without dripping all over them, huh?”
You grit your teeth, doing what you could to swallow back a half-choked moan. “Stop,” And then, with more than a note of desperation in your voice, “This is a crime, you’re not supposed to—”
The air hitched in your throat as he brought his open palm down on your cunt – the blow rough, sudden, sharp. If you’d been able to, you would’ve gone stiff, would’ve lashed out, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t squirm, couldn’t do anything but hold your breath and stifle a pained moan as the first blow was followed by another, then another, then another, until your cunt was sore and throbbing, until there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes and Miguel was breathing heavily above you. “I told you to be quiet.” It was a hiss, more than anything. A threat he could carry out, but not say aloud. “I’d tell you not to make this worse for yourself, but you were always going to find a way to make this more difficult than it had to be.”
You moved to apologize reflexively, to beg him to let you go, but he clearly didn’t have an interest in anything you had to say. He was already shoving two fingers into your burning entrance, adding something else to the ache – not quite pleasure, but not as far as you needed it to be, either. Everything he did was rough, cruel, from the way he stretched you open to how much force he used while grinding the heel of his palm into your clit. Everything he did was less for your gratification and more for his own entertainment, for as humorless as he’d always seemed to you before. Miguel’s paralysis limited your reactions, stopped you from grinding into his hand or squirming underneath him, but it didn’t help to hide your expression, to stop you from biting your lips or rolling your head to the side, giving in to the baselessly hopeful part of your mind yelling that not looking at Miguel would make him leave. He only laughed, the noise low and dark and infinitely more than anything he’d ever given you, before. That made sense. Miguel had always struck you as the kind of man who could only let his guard down after he’d already broken through yours – this was just the first time he’d gotten the chance to prove you right.
Eventually, he pulled back, drawing an airy whimper from the base of your throat at the sudden lack of stimulation. There was a wet, distorted sound you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a fist wrapped around your arm, and then, he was turning you onto your chest, keeping your wrists pressed against your back with one hand while the other spread your thighs apart. You felt his cock, already hard, already thick enough to send a pang of dread to your core, against your ass, and suddenly, you were very aware of just how easily he towered over you, just how little effort it took for him to press his chest into your back and cage you underneath him. Even if you hadn’t been paralyzed, you didn’t know if you’d be able to do anything to get away from him. Not after you’d already been caught in his web.
“You’re going to cum on my cock,” You felt his lips against your ear, the low timbre of his voice reverberating in the back of your mind. “And you’re going to fucking thank me, when you do.”
There might’ve been more. There probably was, but whatever he said was drowned out by a dull, droning buzzing in your ears – a lifeless static that nearly blocked out the feeling of his hands on your hips, his knee nudging your legs apart, the leaking head of his cock resting against your entrance before he thrust into you, splitting you open in an instant.
He was so, so much bigger than you. Even with the fall, even with his venom, you could still feel so much of him, still couldn’t seem to block out the way your own dripping cunt struggled to clench down around the girth of his cock. You let out a fractured gasp but regretted it immediately, trembling as you struggled to inhale while feeling so impossibly full. There might’ve been blood. It was hard to tell with the slick dripping down your thighs, with Miguel lapping over the side of your throat. He sounded animalistic, growling as he rolled his hips and buried himself deeper in your core, his nails burrowing into your hips and mangling what was left of your poor, ruined suit. You’d have to make a new one, when you got back to your own dimension, when you got back to your tiny apartment already over-crowded with stolen art and half-finished projects. If Miguel ever let you go back.
“You’re tight for a little whore.” He made no effort to be gentle, to hold back, to do anything but bully your cunt, bruise your ass, leave you breathless and struggling just to keep yourself sane. “Must be a tease,” he went on, dropping a hand to your clit and rubbing circles into the abused bundle of nerves. “That’s it. Stealing everything you could get your hands on, wrecking the multiverse – that was just your way of getting my attention, huh? Bet you were just waiting for someone to pin you down and fuck you.”
You could feel your legs starting to shake, in spite of the paralysis. “Please, I can’t—”
“So fucking needy, too.” There was a deep laugh, an open-mouthed kiss pressed into the curve of your throat. “I’ll have to put a collar on you. Might catch you bending over for the first person you see if nobody knows who you— fuck, who you belong to.”
His pace had been punishing from the start, but at that, it turned brutal. You felt tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, a tight knot of tension forming deep in your core. His cock beat against something sensitive and vulnerable in your pussy and you screamed, a strangled moan tearing past your lips. “Please, Miguel, I need you to stop—"
Your voice gave out before you could finish, but that was all Miguel needed to hear. Before you could take it back, before you could bite your tongue and curse yourself for trying to say anything at all, his hand was on your neck, cutting off your oxygen supply and leaving you choking for air, leaving your cunt convulsing around him. “De nuevo.” It was a demand, an order. You were starting to wonder if he knew any other way to speak. “Say that again, before I change my mind and snap your neck.”
“Miguel.” Croaked, airy, only half-coherent. When his grip only grew tighter, you said it again, and again, and again, his name forming an incomprehensible mantra that played in-time with the pulsing in the back of your skull, in the walls of your pussy. You felt yourself clench around him, your vision burning white as either his cock or the lack of oxygen or some awful combination of the two vaulted you to a breath-stealing, mind-numbing climax – strong enough and blinding enough to leave you crashing on the downswing, plummeting into an infinite abyss of searing heat and overstimulation as soon as your climax gave out under his violent affection. Vaguely, you were aware of Miguel’s touch growing rougher, of his voice in your ear, of his cum flooding into your sore pussy. He made no attempt to pull out, but you weren’t surprised. You didn’t know if anything Miguel did could surprise you, anymore.
You were in a haze as Miguel drew back, nipping at the corner of your jaw one more time before finally letting you go. It wasn’t his venom keeping you still, anymore, but your own exhaustion – weighing you down as he lifted you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his chest. Through your eyelashes, your watched Miguel type something into his watch, a neon-shaded portal cutting through the fabric of reality a moment later. You tried to protest, to call on whatever hidden pocket of strength you still had and get away from him, but all you managed to do was squirm in his arms and let out a small, pathetic whine. Miguel responded by pressing his lips against your forehead, chuckling softly. As if this was funny to him. As if he found this cute. “Settle down. You have nothing to worry about.”
He smiled for the first time that night, and you felt something in the pit of your stomach crack.
“I’m taking you home.”
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david-talks-sw · 1 year ago
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How the narrative framed Mace Windu, back in 2002
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So there's this 2002 book written by Marcus Hearn, edited by J.W. Rinzler, titled Attack of the Clones - The Illustrated Companion. It was released a month before Episode II was released.
AKA, before EU material and anti-Jedi fanon could publicly reframe the meanings of the film... and before more recent narratives could reinterpret the character of Mace as a robotic, protocol-worshipping stickler who never bends the rules (when evidence shows he's anything but).
So how does Marcus Hearn - "untainted" by all the above factors, armed only with the Prequel films and their screenplays - frame the character of Mace Windu?
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MACE & ANAKIN
Fandom: "Mace hated Anakin from Day #1 and never trusted him. Mace was probably jealous as he always thought he was the Chosen One, not Anakin!"
Attack of the Clones' - The Illustrated Companion:
"Jedi Masters Yoda and Mace Windu lead the High Council in rejecting Qui-Gon's application to train Anakin, 'He is too old,' concludes Mace Windu. 'There is already too much anger in him.'
Hearn explains that the problem with Anakin wasn't that he was just too old, it's that because of that age he had become too filled with fear and anger to a point where taking on the Jedi training would be twice as hard for him as it already was for everyone else.
Hearn doesn't chastise Mace for this initial decision. On the contrary, he adds more context to it by using a line from the screenplay to explain where Mace is coming from.
He also goes further into Mace's view of Anakin throughout the book:
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"[Mace] over-estimates Anakin Skywalker, paying little credence to Obi-Wan's protestations that the boy is too confused and disturbed to be dispatched on a solo mission."
"The Jedi Council is aware of Anakin's exceptional skills, and Mace Windu believes Anakin may fulfill the prophecy that says a being will one day bring balance to the Force. But Anakin still has a lot to learn…"
He's basically stating that Mace believes in Anakin, but that doing so is a mistake. Which, to be fair, considering how things turn out for Mace and the Jedi... is kinda true!
Mace's problem with Anakin is almost the opposite of what most of the fandom projects onto him.
It's not that he dislikes Anakin, on the contrary, he holds Anakin in too high of an esteem and is overlooking Anakin's glaring flaws because "hey, Anakin's the Chosen One. He's got this!"
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That's not the only flaw Mace has, according to Hearn.
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MACE'S (and the Jedi's) ONLY REAL FLAW
Fandom: "Mace and the Jedi had become too emotionally detached, they had lost touch with the common folk by spending too much time in their ivory tower. They focused so much on being selfless that they forgot how to care, they've become a bunch of elitist, righteous sticklers for protocol who care more about upholding laws than actually helping the people those laws are meant to protect!"
Attack of the Clones' - The Illustrated Companion:
"Although he is a senior member of the Jedi Council, little in Mace Windu's experience has prepared him for the looming threats of the dark side of the Force and Count Dooku's Separatists."
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"Mace Windu's faith in the Jedi to protect the Republic is admirable, but it also blinds him to the true scale of the growing menace. He is aware that the dark side is growing, but still allows himself to be too easily reassured about the Separatists' ambitions. [...] Mace fatally misjudges Count Dooku, refusing to believe he could be behind any attempt on Senator Amidala's life. 'Dooku was once a ledi, he tells Padmé. 'He couldn't assassinate anyone. It's not in his character.'"
"Mace Windu's strengths are, in many ways, qualities shared by the Jedi Order as a whole - he is an accomplished diplomat and a fine swordsman. Such skills have served the Jedi well in their role as the galaxy's peacekeepers for a thousand generations. But such skills are not enough to save the Jedi from their own complacency, and the tumultuous changes that threaten to wipe them out forever."
Hearn perfectly grasps what the Jedi's only real flaw is, in George Lucas' intended narrative: they were unprepared, complacent, they were blind... and now they're stuck playing catch-up.
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But when he's saying that, he's not blaming them for it. Because this flaw doesn't derive from some sense of elitism or superiority... it is an inevitable consequence of their qualities.
They've managed to stay out of politics as neutral diplomats... ... but that makes them vulnerable to the Sith's plot, which primarily takes place within the political arena, where they have no control or experience.
They are painfully aware of the corruption in the Senate... ... but as a result, they're too quick to trust the Separatist's talking points as well-meaning and genuine, instead of seeing the movement for what it really is: greedy big business trying to become the government.
They trust and agree with Dooku, believe in what he publicly stands for (after all this man used to be one of the wisest and kindest members of the Jedi Order, Mace's friend, Yoda's Padawan, etc)... ... but as such, they are blind to his true nature, that of a treacherous Sith who'd stoop to orchestrating assassinations.
The Jedi have their guard up, knowing that there's another Sith Lord still out there, orchestrating in the shadows... ... but they can't really find him, because the Dark Side has clouded everything, so only darksiders are able to sense the possibilities of the future! Them serving the good side is screwing them over, in this situation.
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Flaws such as being too trusting or being unprepared, letting your guard down because you've established a 1000-year-peace, are flaws that kind, noble characters such as the Jedi are bound to have.
They may be flaws, but they aren't faults. And considering the way he describes Mace and the Jedi, it's clear Hearn grasps the nuance.
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MACE'S RELUCTANCE TO JOIN THE WAR
Fandom: The Jedi joined the war out of arrogance, they thought they could swashbuckle their way through the problem and win, instead they didn't realize that they lost the very moment they joined.
Attack of the Clones' - The Illustrated Companion:
"Mace Windu believes in the Jedi as keepers of the peace - not as soldiers - but there comes a point when he reluctantly realizes that it is time to take affairs out of the realm of diplomacy."
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Mace and the Jedi didn't want to start a war. If you read the script for Attack of the Clones, Mace and Bail keep grasping at straws to not engage with the Separatists up til the very end.
But when you consider that...
the Geonosians are about to execute Obi-Wan without a trial,
and the Separatists leaders have been unmasked as a coalition of unscrupulous corporate assholes who are willing to plunge the galaxy in chaos just to make more money.
... at some point, the Jedi have to come to terms with the fact that Separatist leadership (and Sidious) won't accept diplomacy because they want a conflict. A conflict will make them all richer. And the Republic, well, they're just dying to go to war too.
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So the Jedi go save Obi-Wan and capture Dooku, hoping that in doing so, the conflict ends before it begins. They succeed in the former goal... but fail the latter one.
The Clone War has begun.
From there on, the Jedi are drafted to lead the war. Which is why - as Hearn points out - Mace was so reluctant to take action in the first place. The Jedi are ambassadors, they are not built for war... and now they've been forced into one.
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Mace is by no means a perfect character... but he's someone doing his best. Just like Obi-Wan, just like Yoda, and all the other Jedi.
Overtime, Windu's character has been dumbed down to either "that one angry black man" or "the dogmatic emotionless dick who hated Anakin"... and I really think that that's not what we were meant to see him as.
The way Marcus Hearn (who also wrote The Cinema of George Lucas) refers to him is a much more charitable interpretation of how others (ahem Filoni ahem) do, nowadays.
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resident-idiot-simp · 6 days ago
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I would like to point out a few ester eggs with my writing that some people may pick up on.
Laura refers to Logan as Papá one because Spanish and two because OG Logan was Daddy. So obviously when she got older it would probably become dad. (That's what happened with me and I'm already projecting my relationship onto her so...) So that means no one but OG Logan gets that title.
Wade gets pop because it's really the only other one I can picture for him (bonus points it what my dad calls his father)
Laura is referred to as kit because that is the title for a baby Wolverine. Also Wade calls her mini simply because that is the only other nickname I can imagine him using.
Also it'd be super considering how much he loves Logan. He's just calling her mini version of the man he loves. It's also just true
What I call a character does matter. Logan and Wade are used when showing them more relaxed usually and not 'in character'
Other titles like hero names are used when in action while if I'm picturing the scene from a pov that would use more relaxed name you get that.
This isn't always the case but it is 90% of the time
My explaind backstory may change depending on what I'm picturing, but for the most part I like putting the events of Logan in a completely different universe.
My reasoning is simple it makes more sense that way and it has been said before Dp&W it is a different universe. Less plot holes for me and also it was all meta in the first place. Hugh gave up Logan and then Fox died because of it ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I don't have to explain that lol.
Anyways I imagine Logan in Deadpool's universe just got killed saving Laura simple as that.
That's all I can think of for right now
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chaotic-multi-fandom · 2 months ago
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WHERE DOES IT START? ARUN, AMADEO, ARMAND
- My personal reflections on Armand's names in Interview with the Vampire (show version)
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“Who am I Louis?” Armand asks while staring at a painting of a boy that only he would ever be able to recognize as himself. He stares at what is supposed to be his essence captured forever on a canvas, and yet the kneeling boy is a stranger to him. When he asks Louis this, he is earnest. Armand does not know who he is, and this lack of identity crushes and torments him. Armand seems to constantly define himself by his attachment to other people or things, such as a “servant”, as “the job (he) did not want” or as someone’s “companion” because he has never known anything else, he is never just “Armand;” he does not know who that is.
This is further reflected in his names, and the fact that despite having several none belong to him. First there’s Arun. This is supposedly the name he was born with, but even he is not sure of this due to his memory being clouded as a consequence all the horrors he suffered as a child. This name is not his, it is a name so linked to the abuse he endured that it has become the name of said abuse rather than the name of a person. His use of third person when talking about himself as “Arun” signals both a coping mechanism to distance himself from those experiences as well as the disconnect he feels from the identity attached to the name.
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Then, there’s Amadeo. A name given to him by Marius, not only linking him directly with his maker and master but with God and worship, the name meaning “lover of god”. This name is also not his, but rather a projection of what Marius saw or expected in Armand. This is what we see in the painting, an ideal: a submissive, worshipful, whitewashed Armand degraded to kneel at the same level as the dog behind him, “basking in (his) worshipful mercy.” Regardless of how Armand did embody this role of worship and servitude during his time with Marius, that painting is not him, it is the fantasized construct that is Amadeo, who doesn’t really exist. When you think about it, Amadeo being a projection of those around him is not entirely different to “dreamstat” being a projection of Louis. This is of course largely my own interpretation and not fact, but I think anyone can agree that who is being portrayed in that painting is Armand only in name. It is simply another example of his body being used for a purpose, an artistic one in this case, his true essence and even features entirely forgotten and replaced by Amadeo’s. So, that name and the identity attached to it wasn’t entirely Armand’s either. Much like “Arun” being tied to his parents abandon and the brothel, Amadeo is trapped in the painting: just another property to be “sold” or “donated;” what Armand has always been treated as.
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Finally, there is the name we call him by now: Armand. A name given to him by the Roman coven before sending him to the Paris coven, a collective that he is now supposed to lead and put before himself as an individual. It is a French name, a place he had no connection to before-hand and that only further distances him from who he might have once been, forcing him to adapt and assimilate into the new role he has been chained to. The name is a role in itself, as it means “soldier.” Furthermore, he is not a simple leader to this coven, he is the somewhat paternal and religious figure through which the coven; his “children,” serve Satan and through him, God. He is part of a “murky trinity” as Lestat calls it, a twisted parody of the holy trinity. So, “Armand” is once again much more than a name; it is another projection the lost and abandoned coven latches onto. Of course, they mostly refer to him as “maitre,” the implications of which I’ve already discussed in a different post. In this case, the dual titles “Armand” and “Maitre” are parallel to “Amadeo,” they both link Armand to the concepts of owner and God, except the roles change from being the owned worshiper to the worshiped owner. It remains someone else’s image, someone else’s name, one that prevents Armand from exploring who he is without it.
Armand does not have a name; how can he know who he is?
Even now he seeks the answer in Louis where he will not find it. There are, however, moments in which this seemed to be challenged. For example, shortly after meeting, Armand asks Louis to address him as such instead of “maitre” as his coven does. It is a moment in which he takes agency over what he wants to be called, a privilege he has never had before. Later, Louis calls him Arun as a way to indicate that he can see the person that lies behind the roles he plays, and that he can be himself around Louis. Yet these moments are still tainted. The name Armand does not reflect who he is, and in the conversation with Louis, Armand falls into his old patterns by addressing Louis as “maitre.” Plus, Louis too will go on to misuse this, but that’s a whole other topic. These instances, though revealing a more loving and honest side to Louis’ and Armand’s relationship in which they allow themselves to be open, they can not give Armand a sense of self. No one but himself can, and yet he doesn’t know how that is. It is a tragic never-ending paradox as immortal as he.
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