#we all have different capacities and capabilities

[howlsofbloodhounds]

howl, i wanna ask your opinion on a particular aspect of killer that i'm not sure about: is stage 1 capable of doing violence or heinous acts all by himself? like, i know it's the stage closest to sans, the most vulnerable, most trustworthy, and most affected by emotions, but can he be dangerous in any way? since i want to have a situation where killer is strongly affected by emotions and commit some questionable acts. but idk if that would be stage 1 or stage 2 going to stage 3...

thank you in advance :]

I think every Stage probably has capacity for violence, it’s just that their motivations behind it is different—-and in Stage 1, much more likely to be triggered into higher Stages, as when he’s like that: Killer tends to avoid and hide from violence and conflict, often making himself small.

He’d probably try to resist going into higher Stages, but the act of doing so would cause significantly more internal conflict and distress, which would lead him into dissociating.

For Stage 1, i highly doubt he’d take any action to protect himself—and given how he gave no external reaction to how Nightmare harmed his cat right in front of him, it seems as if he’s prone to learned helplessness if he’s learned that fighting back against this specific person or situation is something he can’t win. In which he’d probably just be triggered into Stage 2 to be able to handle it.

In the Swap vs Killer comic, we don’t see how it ended, but Killer was switching into Stage 1 by the end—driven by the sight of seeing Papyrus and Chara in the same place right after being reminded of the Resets I’d presume—seems he’s the type to cry during violence.

In the Stage 4 comic, even when Killer was triggered into Stage 1 thanks to a flashback, he kept insisting he doesn’t want to hurt the other Papyrus. I’m not sure if he was seeing his Papyrus, due to the flashback, or if he was aware that this Papyrus was a different one. Probably wouldn’t have mattered—as it triggered him into Stage 4 and he killed him anyway.

I’d say it’d take a lot for Killer to be provoked into physical violence into Stage 1 and is likely a very last resort—as he’s more prone to running and hiding (from Papyri at least) or switching into other Stages to endure it (Stage 2) or fight back (higher stages) when violence is directed at him, likely to believe he deserves it anyway. Dissociating and shutdowns.

Any violence Killer does in Stage 1 is highly unlikely to be done with malice or intention or deliberate. If anything I’d say he avoids situations that could trigger him into higher Stages (especially Stages 3 and 4) because he fears hurting and killing more people—which he also views as inevitable. He values others safety a lot more than his own—even if he fears and avoids anyone who has hurt him in higher Stages as well.

There may even be a situation where, if running and hiding isn’t an option and he feels cornered, he lashes out first in an attempt to prevent being triggered into Stage 4–because he knows that then the other person isn’t going to survive, Stage 4 will kill them.

He may think something like “if I hurt them or scare them away, I can escape and they’ll survive. No added numbers to my count.” A deeply conflicted act.

If these people intend to kill him, he won’t allow them to do that—not because he doesn’t think he deserves it or because he doesn’t want to die, but because he doesn’t want them to die. With every moment that escape isn’t possible, the chance of triggering higher Stages rises.

Another way may be flashbacks—renacting a memory—or even hallucinations, Chara’s voice and visage threatening him with another Reset or Bad Ending or Consequence if he doesn’t do it. So things like emotional breakdowns, trauma flashbacks, panic, a sense of unable to differentiate past vs present and reality vs unreality, a guilt ridden attempt to protect someone.

His violence is likely to be sloppy, confused, frantic, deeply regretful —as opposed to the calculation and deliberation of Stage 2 or the instinctive, survival, self protective, fear and paranoid driven rage of Stage 3. If his SOUL can’t seem to decide if it needs to be in Stage 1 or Stage 2, it might just hurdle him right into Stage 3– who will attack everyone, even the ones he may have been wanting to protect or allies.

The aftermath is likely to be not good for Killer. As in yet another spiraling breakdown where he tries to punish or kill himself, emotionally shuts down and dissociates completely, or is triggered into Stage 2 to numb out the guilt and emotions and dissociate himself from it all.

At its worse, he may even completely forget what he did in Stage 1 or feel it wasn’t real—“that me could never do that. Too weak.” (Not supposed to do that.)

If that’s the case, probably best not to tell him about it or ask him about it if he doesn’t seem to be able to handle it. Might just provoke Stage 2 into violence to avoid confronting things. Especially if he thinks someone knows things about him that he himself doesn’t know—and may use that against him.

[rambles-on-dragon-age]

Tell me you only played the game once and didn't bother to engage with anything going on without telling me. 🙄

I'll respond to that nonsensical drivel in that screen shot under the cut BUT the reason they came onto your post to spew their brainless takes is because hating this game is performative at this point.

There's no reason to just drop it and move on because they crave the attention of hating something popular, of regurgitating the same brainless and nonsensical takes everywhere they can. They were too lazy to engage with what the game offered and just outed themself as such.

I'm also an ADHD'er and was all over the place while playing. I've only played once and look at everything I gleaned from it; imagine what's going to happen when I'm not buzzing on nervous energy and actually get to go through it taking my time and snooping for the small details. This game was genuinely engaging and was like a repeated dopamine hit. Every single detail was built with love and this game screams of lore and worldbuilding in every little piece.

As for that nonsensical drivel in the response screenshotted;;

"The side quests are just going from place to place looking for a note, having a boss fight, rinse and repeat."

You mean like literally every single J/RPG game in existence??? You mean the industry standard?? The thing that has been a staple of RPGs for decades now?? How many of those did we have in Inquisition? I can promise it's at least double what Veilguard gave us. How many in DA2? DAO?

"Every companion quest ends with you having to kill their Generic Big Bad and then make a binary choice for the companion."

Every companion quest mirrors and/or parallels the main story line and themes of the game. The complaint should be that the game is repeatedly beating us over the head with the main themes, but then again it did that and you still missed it apparently.

Every companion quest you've been there with them, as their new employer and then friend, every step of the way. You've seen the build up, the backstory, the stakes, all of it. They TELL YOU that they're too close to the issue and need someone outside of it, ROOK, to help them decide. Do you not have friends? Is that the problem? You don't have friends that help you and then talk you through a decision??' They TELL YOU that they're too close to the issue and need someone outside of it, ROOK, to help them decide. Do you not have friends? Is that the problem? You don't have friends that help you and then talk you through a decision??

"Most of the romances are lacking."

IT'S NOT A GAME ABOUT ROMANCE, IT'S A GAME ABOUT SAVING THE WORLD. The romance is meant to be a little flavor sprinkled on the side!! Play an otome game if you're only here for romance !!!!!

"There's very little conflict between the companions and when they're is they kiss and make up."

This is the first game where you hand select a group of professionals and essentially hire them. This is not a slapdash gang slapped together of whomever was willing to deal with world saving fuckery. Each of the people involved has been with their organization for years or decades and fulfill jobs in a professional capacity. I'm also confused on how repeated death threats counts as "very little conflict". But whatever; you made it clear you didn't really do much in the game so you probably missed the majority of the interpersonal conflicts they had. And yeah. As professionals living in close quarters at the end of the world, I would hope they'd be capable of being adults about it and talk through their problems and learn to live with their differences. Like adults should be able to do.

"Every time a companion is having a problem they get this generic 'I'm here for you' 'thanks rook i feel better now' cutscene."

Do you not... have friends? Do they not have things going on in their lives? In the face of something grave happening, words don't always help. Words won't stop their world from falling apart. Know what does? Knowing someone witnessed their worst and is still willing to stand by them. That if they need a shoulder, that shoulder is there for them. In real life, I've been on both sides of that generic conversation. It makes a difference.

"Every faction is generically good and interchangeable."

Factually incorrect. We even had a whole huge chunk of Davrin's quest to show us the Grey Wardens are actually hiding some really big, really grave secrets. Those are supposed to be some of the premier heroes of the realm. Everything with the Cauldron? Did you skip Davrin's quest? Banter shows that the Crows still torture recruits; they have in-fighting and assassinate their numbers. Lords of Fortune straight up have a murder pit where they throw the bodies of those "willing" combatants. Just because they're trying to show Rook their best face doesn't mean they're all good. You have to pay attention to the stuff in the game, not play with your eyes and ears closed.

"Lucanis is straight up lacking content somehow and got shoved in the pantry when everyone else gets a cool room that changes over time."

You have, again, completely missed the content that was blatantly in the game. Upon asking Lucanis why he's in the pantry and not, you know, in a room in the infinitely generating Lighthouse, he says he feels safe there. There's one entrance/exit so he can't be snuck up on. He can see the food and would know if someone was poisoning him. He's constantly brewing and drinking coffee to stay awake so Spite can't take his body for a walk; he's right there at the source and not walking back and forth to do so. He's also, you know, trying to stay awake so Spite can't take his body for a walk and his comfort level is one that helps him do that. Lucanis has the same amount of content that the other companions have. If you would have paid attention to his characterization as well as what he literally tells you to your face that wouldn't have even been part of the subject.

So I have ADHD right? And my first run of Veilguard took me 83 hours and I know I missed a ton of stuff even though I really tried to slow down and pay attention and read as many codex entries as I could. I’m still finding new stuff on my third run.

So when I see takes that are like “Veilguard is weirdly sexless compared to previous games” then in the same post you say you played 60 hours….like ya, you missed a ton of stuff. Which is fine? But you can’t get mad at the game or the writers for it that’s a you problem.

Or “You can’t talk to the npc’s so I can’t feel empathy for them” when like a) you can b) do you actually care about the people of Thedas like at all? I didn’t need the game to hit me with the empathy stick to care about a world I’ve loved for years. Again, this is a you problem not a writing problem.

Or “They sanitized/Disneyfied the lore.” Ugh.

Not saying you need to play the game again because I don’t care and honestly you don’t deserve it anyways but like if you’re going to say stupid shit at least be able to back it up.

[liones-s]

one of the biggest things I can advocate for (in academia, but also just in life) is to build credibility with yourself. It’s easy to fall into the habit of thinking of yourself as someone who does things last minute or who struggles to start tasks. people will tell you that you just need to build different habits, but I know for me at least the idea of ‘habit’ is sort of abstract and dehumanizing. Credibility is more like ‘I’ve done this before, so I know I can do it, and more importantly I trust myself to do it’. you set an assignment goal for the day and you meet it, and then you feel stronger setting one the next day. You establish a relationship with yourself that’s built on confidence and trust. That in turn starts to erode the barrier of insecurity and perfectionism and makes it easier to start and finish tasks. reframing the narrative as a process of building credibility makes it easier to celebrate each step and recognize how strong your relationship with yourself can become

[senseandaccountability]

"I'm me again"

Yes well this is me getting a little sappy - again - about the spirits/demon thing as a metaphor for the human experience, must be Friday. 

(Yes, this is about Solas.)

Last night my Ingellvar was tending to the graves with Emmrich and she said “demons” and immediately corrected herself, because of course she meant spirits but people outside Nevarra so easily call them demons and Emmrich, one of the kindest and most insightful people in the entire DA verse, would of course never do that. Because he sees them all as spirits. Some of them may be twisted, embittered, furious and cruel but to him they are still, at heart, the same being as their more positive virtues. You are always you, as Solas tells Cole. 

Which is also what Solas argues for all of DAI.

Which is also what Solas personal quest actively shows us in DAI.

His friend, broken and twisted by the mages' bindings, dies a spirit of Wisdom, thanking him and telling him not to be sad. “I’m me again.”

Which is also a very strong theme in Solas entire arc. 

But it’s really not just Solas, or the elves. The eternal struggle of spirits is a reflection of the human soul and what it means to be human. What parts of you does the world let you cultivate, what parts are hidden and twisted in the dark, what virtues would you be remembered for if you died tomorrow? What sort of person have you become? What person could you be? DA is crammed with these themes.

Since the spirit reveal/confirmation, I’ve seen a lot of very detailed and very cool discussions about the specifics of spirit virtues and demon characteristics and that’s some good shit right there, but you can also be lazy like me and very much just read it as various aspects of human nature interacting with each other. We’re all so many things over our lifetime, to different people, in different contexts. We all carry such endless capacity for goodness and gentleness and we’re all so very capable of hurting each other.

In the codex entries we see Solas try over and over and over again to appeal to the better nature of the Evanuris. He is described as brilliant and wise, he is pulled out of the Fade specifically for his wisdom and he tries to get them to reflect that, to listen to his concerns, to use their powers differently. Why don’t you make creatures that can protect the People, he asks Ghilan’nain. Why do you need to push your power further, he asks Elgar’nan, the people are already submitting to your rule, why must you shackle them? War may have twisted him up already but there’s nothing he says that isn’t extremely valid and wise about the Evanuris’ approach to ruling.

But as we learn from the Spirit of Command in Crestwood in DAI, wisdom is considered a soft virtue in a world of war and hierarchy and his reasoning falls flat or gets interpreted as fear or insubordination. Unheard and undervalued, his wisdom grows sour and prideful. He isn’t wrong, he knows he isn't, and he will show them. You are not gods, I will make you see that you are not gods. I will humble you until you understand that I am right. 

This is a profoundly human experience.

The ancient elven empire ultimately falls to its own greed and hierarchies and lack of boundaries - all of which Solas pointed out, all of which he and his rebels opposed. But the Evanuris didn’t listen, they were caught in a power scheme where only individual power matters and everyone else becomes pawns. How ironic then that their empire falls to its own foolish pride and boundless cruelty against the Titans, the first children of the earth. They hurt themselves by hurting them. They wound the fabric that binds them all together. 

Solas as a character is an open, ongoing conflict between "spirit" and "demon" aspects, between light and dark, between identifying as a solitary creature or part of the whole. It’s never more visible than during the final act of DAV where he is at once Solas, standing with the Shadow Dragons against the blight. And also Fen’Harel, scheming to get there in the first place, treating people in his way like dehumanized pawns to reach his final destination, a goal that can be argued to be entirely tainted with pride at this point, a way to soothe his conscience and need to be right more than it’s a way to save the world. And he’s the Dread Wolf, physically embodying the struggle against the corrupt powers since he, unlike the Evanuris, doesn’t believe in binding creatures to fight his battles. It’s significant that while he fights alone, he cannot do it without help from Rook. Elgar’nan directs all of the blight at the Dread Wolf and it takes a sacrifice from the team to free him from its grasp. It’s a battle orchestrated by a god. 

And Solas, powerful as he may be, is not a god. 

That is why it’s so lovely to me that the ending isn’t just a matter between Solas and his conscience or between Solas and Rook or Solas and Lavellan. Because we are not single entities. We are not islands. That’s why we need each other, because we respond to each other, we affect each other, we abuse and love each other and we cannot really understand in which ways until we connect. We use each other to remind us of who we are, or who we could be. Every Benevolence needs a Wisdom, every Command needs a Compassion, every one of us needs someone else in some way, shape or form. We are not meant to be solitary. We all share Solas' deepest fear of dying alone. We all share Solas’ ongoing conflict with the better and worse parts of our nature. We all reflect each other. The ending brings in the past, the present and the person that knows Solas not as a god but as a person.

We are shattered fragments of a greater whole and it was, as Morrigan points out, Solas’s love for and loyalty to his people that set him on this course long ago. And he broke the world. He broke his people. He couldn’t save them, all the horrible things that he has done and he still couldn’t save them. Ultimately and emotionally to him, this isn’t about wisdom or pride or good or evil or any such dichotomy, this is about grief and regret and broken humanity.

That is why it’s so powerful to me that a romanced or friendly Lavellan is so kind to him in DAV. They approach him carefully, they kneel down beside him to make a connection, they are understanding and compassionate and it may not be what he deserves on some grand justice scale of things, but it is without question what he needs. Pride and regret and grief need compassion, hope and benevolence much more than it needs to be proven wrong or challenged, kindness breaks the cycle.

They reach out to him not the way one would reach out to a god, but to a person. Because that’s what Solas needs to be reminded of - his humanity. That’s what their love and friendship has always reminded him of, that's what the Inquisition taught him - that the world is worth caring about because broken as it may be, it is also full of people. 

And people matter. They might not matter to the Dread Wolf, but they have always mattered to Solas.

That's what the good ending represents.

"I'm me again." 

[le-monchou]

hello Soru, I’m evil now and I think a fic about Leona doing something villainous to protect women / women’s rights etc. would make me feel better

if the dimly lit room was an intimidation tactic, leona would scoff in the faces of that faction. he'd grown up practicing and perfecting his magic in the dead of night, when the servants would rest easy for the night knowing that their lieges were in their beds for the night. the night was his home and the moon and stars were familiar friends.

"you want to tell me, that this is your proposal." he starts, and the ministers scoff lightly at his audacity to start negotiations without his brother or father's approval, but this was no mere negotiation- this was an active war. "give me an example of what you think would happen were i or my brother and father were to give you the go-ahead. go on."

the room remains silent, and even his brother and sister-in-law have nothing to say. "the traditional roles of the sunset savannah ensure the woman is in power. they are the hunters, the feeders, the birth-givers, the teachers. i feel sorry for your mother who married the pathetic man whose dick you shot out from- or maybe she wasn't even married to him, because marriage is something equal. excuse my language, brother."

farena merely nods by his side and swallows, and leona takes that as further permission to rip them a new asshole. "you're a self-serving maniac who couldn't get a woman to stay by your side willingly, so you decide to punish all the women ever born for that. it's not their fault you do not have the capacity to be a nurturing, capable, and worthy man."

the council members at this point are also exchanging glances. "i'm trying to push this nation to modernity, not take it back to the ancient times of a completely different land. do not bring that tradition here again, or i will make your lives so, very, very, very miserable, that even if you have the power to establish these rules, you will hear me down the halls of the office you walk in. understand that we rely on them even more than they rely on us, because what can a man do that a properly grown woman cannot?"

but as the representatives stand up to leave, one decides to taunt the royal family and their archaic ways, and farena's eyes widen as the man himself turns to sand, his brother nonchalantly looking at his nails before sniffling and getting up. "someone better clean that up. dump that out with the rest of the mud, he'd be doing something useful then, i suppose."

i hope you like this nettles 🫶🫶🫶🫶 428 words stay safe, my american mutuals and friends <3 and if anyone who reads this voted trump (highly unlikely that you simp for leona and can be a trump supporter) pls do not interact with me <3

[chocodile]

Amaranthine Magic System PART II: Spellcraft for Wizards

This is Part III of a three-part worldbuilding set.

Part I - Part II (you are here) - Part III

So, what makes a wizard different than a non-magically capable mundane? A few things:

Unusually strong personal magical field

Ability to sense/”see” magical energy

Some unknown characteristic that allows them to manipulate their own magical field as if it were an extension of their body. Possibly a physical difference in brain structure?

The last part is the most important and is truly what sets a wizard apart from every other creature on the planet. Though, of course, without the first two traits, it’s going to be of limited use.

As mentioned in Part I, wizards cast their spells by applying a mental “filter” their own magical output. This is referred to as active casting. Passive casting, which will be covered in Part III, is typically the realm of animals and plants. Being able to filter something mentally is an extremely unique skill only possible by sapient creatures (probably) due to the complexity involved. However, wizards do typically use hand gestures in casting as well. Hand gestures provide an additional optional channel on which you can “filter” your spell. Because it’s easier to do hand gestures than to teach yourself these complex mental filters, it’s common for amateur wizards to use many more hand gestures when casting, while very advanced wizards use fewer of them because they are capable of juggling a larger number of simultaneous “filters” mentally. Additionally, hand and arm gestures are commonly used like the barrel of a rifle, to control and direct the magical energy being shaped by the mind.

Learning how to control magic like this takes many years of study and practice. You must really understand the “physics” of how the waves work and how each puppeteer string will affect the shape of the waves when pulled. On top of that, you need a good understanding of the object you’re interacting with. Magic will move differently through water, air, or stone. If you are trying to create a spell that will create a net of energy that will catch fish in a river, you need to be very familiar with the physics of how magic will interact with water and flesh, as well as have an approximate awareness of how deep the water is, whether the bottom is rocky/uneven or not, how fast moving the current is, etc. Gathering that info will require several steps of study and reconnaissance before you ever get to the “make a net and catch some fish” part.

Healing magic is very tricky for this reason. Flesh can be knit together, but because the blood vessels and nerves and such are so small, and so many different types of material are present in, say, a cross-section of an arm, successfully re-attaching a limb would be something only an expert who has dedicated their life to studying anatomy would be able to pull off. You know those radioactive tracers doctors use before imaging tests? That sort of thing gets a lot of use in healing magic. Healers can train themselves to recognize the tracer (well, a magical energy equivalent) and follow that through a body, then target their spell on the location where the tracer ended up. Much easier and more reliable than trying to guess exactly where someone’s alveoli are from outside their body.

Spellcraft has two primary “branches”. The First Branch is a school of magic based on unleashing your own magical potential in a very basic, direct way. Its rawest form would manifest as something like a lightning bolt: an erratic, jagged bolt of pure, difficult-to-control energy. Pretty much all “attack” type spells are variations on this, as well as any spells that involve pushing/pulling/moving things. This branch of magic is seen as much easier and, ironically more beginner friendly. Though it does have the capacity to cause grievous injury, the concentration and mental effort involved mean it’s very hard mix up a “pull” spell and a “fireball” spell. Western Kingdom schools almost exclusively teach this branch.

The Second Branch deals more with manipulating the world’s “background radiation”. (if First Branch magic can be visualized as a line, Second Branch magic is more of a plane or 3D sphere) The wizard alters and exaggerates the shape of their own magical aura to exert pressure on the “background radiation” around them to produce type spells that are more like buffs/debuffs in a video game. Some examples would include a spell that makes everyone in the area feel weirdly invigorated or sleepy, or slows down/speeds up time in a small area, or makes a room with your dead mom in it really, really cold (cough, cough). These spells tend to be more subtle and frankly kind of weird… it’s a very versatile branch of magic with some interesting potential implications. However, it tends to be the harder type of magic to learn by far and requires a very steady hand and calm mind to maintain.

Though they use First Branch magic as well, it’s worth noting that Second Branch magic is very common in the Eastern Kingdom, where it has been well-studied for thousands of years. Their extensive library of research is kept by the Eastern Kingdom Sultan in his private library. Westerners tend to view the Second Branch as shady and manipulative… who knows what a Second Branch wizard could be doing to you without you knowing? The only Second Branch magic to be commonly used in the West is healing magic.

However, as mentioned before, one important thing about the magic system in Amaranthine is that wizards are not psychic. They don’t have x-ray vision and do not innately know how every object or life form they encounter works, and a lot of specialized magic involves knowing the inner workings of things and being able to picture things clearly in your head. A wizard cannot use telekinesis to pick up an object they don’t know the location or shape of (if they tried, it would likely either not have any effect, or they’d break it/damage it/knock it over by targeting it incorrectly, depending on how “off” they were). Nor could they use magic to pick a lock if they didn’t already know how locks worked well enough to visualize the inside of it.

For this reason, wizards tend to be pretty well-read in general, as you have to know a lot about the mechanics and structure of the world around you in order to make the best use of your powers. Hyden specifically has a lot of esoteric nerdy technical knowledge about how things are put together but also huge blind spots when it comes to how the world works in practice. For example, he may know a lot about the anatomy of a corn plant because he had to study them one time when the Royal Mages tasked him with purifying a village’s corn field of crop blight, but still be unable to identify a carrot or yam. He may be able to draw a detailed diagram of the wheels and axle of a carriage because he helped assemble a fleet of them once upon a time, but not have any idea why those parts go together or what they specifically do.

[ghost-bison]

i became curious and searched up how the name "dalek" came to be:

at first, i thought it must have something to do with the norwegian word "dårlig", which means "bad", because of the doctor's reaction in 2x13 "doomsday" when rose said they were in bad wolf bay ("dårlig ulv stranden" if i'm not mistaken): he thought she'd said "dalek". but if you look up the pronunciation, it sounds more like /dɔːleh/ (approximate english phonetic transcription) than how she said it, /dɑːlɪg/ so i thought, even though the mix-up between "dårlig" and "dalek" was done on purpose and the definition, "bad", would be pretty damn on-the-nose, it's not it. so i did some more research.

apparently, it was terry nation (the guy who invented the daleks and davros in, i guess, 1962) who came up with it. according to him, the name simply "rolled off his typewriter", so it wasn't supposed to mean anything. but like me, he got curious and found out that the word "dalek" is serbo-croatian for "far, distant".

this really pleased me for two separate reasons: first, and this is the most obvious interpretation, the daleks are aliens from a distant world, far from earth. but i mean, to daleks or chelonians or raxacoricofallapatorians or any other alien species, the same can be said for earthlings: we are far, distant from them, and any and all species are far and distant from us.

but! if you think of the other meaning behind "distant", not geographically speaking but culturally/morally speaking, that's when things get interesting: the reason the daleks are the main foe in doctor who is that they are detached, so different from any and every other enemy the doctor and unit and torchwood and the shadow proclamation and such have ever had to fight. they keep surviving and coming back because they are so distant, so alien (in the "bizarre" sense of the word) to all other species.

if you take, for example, us humans, the doctor loves our species because of our capacity for love, forgiveness, change, compassion. you see it in the people he picks: rose, martha, then donna, etc. they represent everything he loves in a human being. everything he needs, everything he misses since his own species, which used to be capable of those feelings too, has gone.

he doesn't pick soldiers and has an aversion toward them, because as much as he pretends to hate it when his companions "wander off", he keeps choosing people whom he knows will wander off, people who will question his orders, people whom he doesn't have to feel or be superior to. whereas soldiers, they are conditioned not to question, and to follow instructions, to do as they are told.

in 1x06 "dalek", when nine realizes that the dalek's gun isn't working, he says "if you can't kill, then what are you good for, dalek? what's the point of you?". then, the dalek tells the doctor, "i am a soldier, i was bred to receive orders".

soldiers, whatever species they are, are too much like daleks: they wouldn't question him. that's why, when he realized he was the last of his species, the dalek turned to the doctor, his greatest enemy ("then what should i do?"), and then rose ("order me to die"), for orders. that's why twelve refused to keep journey blue as his traveling companion in 8x02 "into the dalek": people who don't question orders are dangerous to his lifestyle.

he needs people who go against what he says. not only that, but the doctor is, himself, a soldier of sorts, and sometimes he needs the right orders (1x06 "dalek": "what the hell are you changing into, doctor?" -rose ; "the runaway bride": "doctor, you can stop now"/"sometimes i think you need someone to stop you" -donna ; 4x02 "the fires of pompeii": "not the whole town, just save someone" -donna). else caecilius' family would have died in pompeii. else the doctor would use guns, he would die, he would try to break fixed points in time, he would lose himself.

in that sense, the daleks are as far from the doctor and his children of time as can be. i wrote about it somewhere in a one-shot someday: "the daleks weren’t robots, per se, but they kind of were, for someone like the doctor, or the humans, who both felt everything so deeply when all those monsters knew was hatred".

the daleks are to the doctor what dependence and servitude are to freedom, and in that sense, they are distant.

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel does everything he can to make you feel better after a civilian casualty steals your ‘sunshine’. —a fic featuring reluctantly adoring miguel and his sad spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 4k

cw character death, violence, reactive depression

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Miguel," you say, your voice grained by the communicator in his ear, "this universe is almost the same as mine, right?" 

Miguel stares down at a Doc Ock variant you're staking out, lying in wait for the anomalistic antagonist to make his first move. He's trying desperately to maintain his focus but you have a nice voice, and you ask him with a confidence that betrays your total faith in him. You haven't considered that he might not know. 

Well, Miguel does know. He's not sure he should start this discussion and distract you, but he has trouble saying no to you in any capacity, so he does. 

"I don't know every difference, but yeah, they're the same. Same geography, world leaders, roughly the same fast food chains." He bites his lip. He's at work, more than work —you're attempting to save an entire dimension, here— and he shouldn't feed the conversation anymore. But he knows you'll be interested in this. "Donuts aren't a thing, here."

"What?" 

"They have donuts, but they aren't called donuts, and they're nowhere near as popular." 

"This is a very strange way to flirt," Lyla says, her flickering hazed by a golden aura as she changes rapidly between laying on her front, legs kicking, and her back, as though she's in a therapist's daybed. She floats across his vision lazily.

"That's because I'm not," Miguel says. 

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing. Talking to Lyla." 

"How come Lyla doesn't talk to me?" you ask sweetly.

Miguel can see you in the distance, your simple black suit like an ink splodge against the blue grey glass of the skyscraper you're standing on. Anchored with a web and your body tensed, you're perfectly parallel to the ground below, as though you're standing on the windows. 

"It's not that I don't want to," Lyla promises. "Miggy won't let me." 

"That is not true." 

Projections cover Miguel's vision, powered by his favourite lying intelligence. Movements are mapped in a bright marigold yellow, though the net turns red to signify potential danger, chance percentages bouncing up and down. Doc Ock raises an arm and it turns an eye-straining red. He sits down on a park bench and his body turns yellow again. It's a smart program, but it can't account for everything. 

"Something isn't right." 

You hum appreciatively. "It feels weird, how he's acting. Like he's two separate people." 

Doc Ock glitches hard, the air around him fractured by colours in varying depths, like a tangible, physical screen tone. They've been coming faster. He doesn't have much time before he begins to tear apart, and that tearing will prompt panic. Panic will prompt anger. 

"What should we do?" you ask. 

Miguel doesn't know. He regrets asking you to come with him, not that you aren't capable. When you first joined the Spider Society you'd hadn't been Spider-Girl in your own universe for very long, and you weren't particularly proactive. You were kind-hearted but lackadaisical, and after worming your way into his life, a flower budding between concrete slabs it shouldn't have the power to crack, (he seriously doesn't know how it happened, only that you'd been bringing him things, carefully wrapped foods and trinkets you'd made, your bad conversation, and suddenly you were worrying about him and doting on him in the strange way that you do, suddenly, he was doing the same), you decided you wanted to help. You've trained hard on Spider-led courses at the Society, improving your overall fitness, your stamina, your technique, to become the fighter you are now. You can hold your own well. 

Miguel knows what motivated you. You want to look after him. You'd all but admitted to it. And that's why Miguel wishes he asked someone else to come with him, because you'll put yourself in harm's way as he would for you, to protect. 

"Why did you want to know if this universe was the same?" he asks, the nano of his suit morphing over his hands, claws growing long and minaciously sharp.

"Oh! Because, I used to have these favourite cookies called Butter Leaves, but they stopped making them in my dimension 'cos of the Whey disease. Even when it was better, loads of companies couldn't come back…" 

You give him the entire history. He already knows it. He tries to listen to you with the attention you deserve anyway, only he's weighed the options, and taking down Doc Ock feels much more important than listening to your cravings. 

"They were really thin and they had this sweet coating brushed over the top. You'd like them, I think." Miguel drops the last hundred feet to the ground, ignoring the jarring heat in his ankles at such a landing without having rolled into it. "If they were a little softer and had some sugar they'd taste just like polvorones, Miguel."

"You could say that about lots of things," Miguel argues, tone measured as not to alert bystanders nearby of his presence. 

"This doesn't feel like a good idea," Lyla says. Standing now, alert. 

Miguel toggles the communicator so you can't hear him. 

He wonders if you'd even notice him speaking over the intensity of your excitement, "I know it's not professional but maybe we could go and look? After we beat the bad guy. They're more than worth it, I swear," you say hopefully. 

"It's fine," he says to Lyla, throwing out a hand, shins braced and ready to burst into a tackle. 

"It feels off, you both said it." 

"It always feels off. He's in the wrong dimension, his presence caused a shift. The wrongness is unavoidable, like the body–" 

"Rejecting an organ transplant," Lyla says. "I know. You say it constantly." 

"If you know, why are you asking?" he asks, deadpan. 

"Good to know your girlfriend can ask questions and I can't. You're a trailblazer for equality, O'Hara."

Not my girlfriend, he thinks, but he isn't sure how true that is. Miguel realigns his eyesight, the holographic netting that pinpoints anomalistic stress a menacing red where it maps Doc Ock's limbs. The colours are abrasive against the yellow-green leaves fluttering in the breeze to the grass below, trees like arms stretched toward one another standing behind the simple brown bench where Doc Ock murmurs drunken-sounding ravings. 

Miguel's fangs slice through gum and lock into place. He tries not to salivate. The paralysing agent produced gives him a numb tongue. 

Miguel attempts to work quickly. Approach the target. Lock the target in. Incapacitate. He rears back and takes a deep breath. 

"Wait! Behind! Behind you, Miguel, there's something behind you!" 

He twists backward without hesitation and swings his arm around a cold neck. He squeezes hard, hears a metallic crunch similar to a mortar and pestle, but the person in his chokehold isn't a person, it's a robot. 

"Octobots!" Lyla shouts. 

"HELPFUL!" Miguel shouts back, grunting as a robotic arm curves around his back, and then a second, a third. 

The hills of his muscles strain against white-lacquered steel, a sweat breaking at the back of his neck as he groans, desperate to stop the octobot from crushing his arms to a powder. He can practically hear the creaking of his humerus. 

Around him, civilians scatter, screaming for their lives as a small horde of octobots descends on the park. Doc Ock doesn't react to the chaos. He sits there muttering to himself as people run past him and his octobots play cat and mouse. Miguel finally snaps the arms off the robot holding him with a pissed grunt, punching the carcass of machinery away from him while you tuck and roll from a dive to the ground. In an impressive show of your improvement and coordination, you throw out a web as you roll and hit Doc Ock square in the face, a second binding his chest to the bench. You spring to your feet, shooting at bots one after another. You must take down six by the time he's gathered his bearings. 

"On your left," Lyla says. Miguel smashes a bot at the apex of its white body and she laughs. "Nice. Behind." 

Miguel falls into the fight as though it's a well-practised dance. With the stress maps locked on, quick-thinking, and Lyla's pointed direction, Miguel can decapitate or incapacitate each bot swiftly as long as they don't get a hold on him like the first one managed. 

You're like Lyla in that a good skirmish seems to set you off —you're giggling, cheering, enjoying yourself much more than you should be. "This is just like that video game," you say, leaping onto a moving octobot and shooting webbing at the joints, gumming them up until they can't move. "With the girl and her super powered puppy, you know that one?" 

"Of course I don't know that one." Miguel brings his claws down into the aluminium shell of an octobot as it swipes your legs from under you and tears it in two. It cracks like a halved apple, the gore of its inside sparking and smoking as it hits the ground in tandem with you. Your head whacks hard into the concrete pathing beneath. He doesn't have time to help you. 

The arm of a bot races forward like a stinger. This one must be the head of the hive, the Queen bee so to speak, far more complicated than the others in the plating of her ivory bodice and chain-mail like shielding on her arms.

Miguel swears under his breath and vaults at it. 

He pulls your droid feed up in his display, watches you writhe from one side and the other as your pained moans play in his ear. You clamber onto wobbly footing as Miguel descends, the screeching cry of metal while it's shorn apart beneath his hands not half as loud as your useless gasping —you're winded, likely concussed. 

"Civilian entering range," Lyla says. 

"What? Where?" 

Lyla has your drone's camera spin on the spot to show Miguel the civilian stupid enough to enter an active fight zone. They aren't stupid at all, it figures, but unaware. A man in activewear jogs the beaten path with headphones in, eyes to the ground. He stops for a moment to look at his sports watch, and like the octobot can tell, it shakes Miguel like a bothersome flea and surges for him. 

You're closest. 

"Y/N!" Miguel shouts, knowing it's too late before he so much as closes his mouth. You turn, your head braced in your hand, breathing hard with pain. Miguel would take it back if he could. 

You can't save the civilian, but you can watch him die. 

—

People look at him like he's a ghost, sometimes. Wide-eyed, horrified, they move aside in the halls. They treat him how he feels on his worst days, like someone who should've died a long time ago. Today, things are different. 

No less than three Peter Parker' have stopped to stare at him unabashedly. Nearly all make the same jokes, Late for a date?

He'd honestly prefer feeling like a ghost. He can't deal with their derision and he doesn't want to, ignoring their looks and their judgement as he treks to the elevator that's gonna drop him outside of the medbay. The only person he wouldn't mind poking fun at him is you. 

You aren't in the mood. 

Miguel doesn't acknowledge your prone form at first. He walks to your bedside table to deposit the bouquet he'd chosen, peonies for good health and strength, swapping old for new, changing the water in your small shared sink. He may orchestrate the Spider Society, but Miguel's special privileges can't reduce the extreme turnover rate of the medbay. You have curtains to partition the room for privacy, and you got the bed by the window, and that's as much as he could get you. You deserve better. 

Miguel opens the window to drown out the smell of antiseptic. He stands in front of it, his shadow stretching over your twisted hip. You're not sleeping, you're resting. Doctor's orders.

Miguel wishes you'd deign to rest in your own bed, or his, but you're a little too catatonic for a safe discharge either way. 

He sighs quietly. You likely hear it with your enhanced senses and still you remain an impassive lump under your blue hospital blanket. 

"Good morning," he says, instead of the thousand other things he wants to say, that he's too much of a coward to ask. "Let's get up." 

He doesn't give you any choice about it. Starting slow, Miguel rounds the bed to meet your eyes through your sluggish blinking. Perhaps you'd been more asleep than he thought. 

Gentle, Miguel peels down your blankets enough to push his hands under your armpits. He pulls you up into a sitting position, and it —it breaks his heart. He's a monolith, he's hurting, he has years and years of loss and grief behind him and it doesn't matter, it finds him again. His heart breaks at your limblessness and your willingness to be positioned like a paper doll. 

Miguel arranges the sad pillow behind you and puts the remote for the adjustable bed frame in your hand. The last time you'd been here in the medbay after a training exercise fractured your ulna, you'd spent pretty much the entire time messing around with your bed, even as they crafted your cast. It made for messy work. Miguel must've told you to quit it fifty times. 

Your fingers curl around the remote. 

Miguel perches on the mattress on one knee to fix the protective style your hair is in. Nothing serious, just smoothing the tiniest of stray hairs and making sure it's still comfortable. He strokes your temple absentmindedly, checking you over one feature at a time. Tired eyes, nose tip looking parched, your lips chapped. Frowning, he sits properly, and he pulls your big hospital bag from the bedside table, his hand falling to your wrist to say, Hey, I'm here, and I'm not going far.

He finds your smaller bag of toiletries and necessities and unzips it. He tries not to think about the last time he had to take care of someone like this as he cleans your face with a wet wipe, two fingers wrapped in the wipe and petting at your skin carefully. He notices the life returning to you inchingly, his touch a tether you're pulling on, so he prolongs his actions. He smooths moisturiser over your face extra slowly. If you asked why, he could say it's cold, but you don't ask.

Your face shiny in the sunshine filtering in through the wide windows, you almost look like yourself again. 

"Are you hungry?" 

You shake your head. An almost imperceptible gesture. 

"This is why you don't feel well," he says. "You're not eating enough." 

"That's not why," you say.

He aches to hear your voice. I know, he thinks, but doesn't say. 

"Eat something," he says. 

You shake your head again. He managed to bring you back and squash you back down in less than a minute. He really doesn't like himself, at that moment. Often, but especially now. He's failing you. He failed you with the octobots and he's failing you now. 

Miguel refuses to fail someone he cares about again. 

He takes the remote for your bed and lifts the top section so you can sit back comfortably. He shakes the blankets out over you, and he puts away your things. Hopeful, Miguel places new pyjamas and underwear with your shower caddy at the end of the bed and pulls a strict pose, hands crossed over his chest. 

"I need to go. Shower, eat breakfast when it comes. Please." 

You give him a look that might mean Yes but probably doesn't mean anything, laying down as much as the bed allows and turning your face from him toward the flowers. Miguel leaves, stopping a ways away to look back, and watches through the gap of your curtains as you reach out to touch the flowers he'd brought. Your pinky finger is less than an inch from the petals when your movement stutters, your hand falling back to your chest with a soft thud. You close your eyes. 

When Miguel returns, he's thankful to find you've done as he told you. Showered, changed, a discarded breakfast tray at your feet. You've attempted the oatmeal and left the toast to go cold, congealed butter white against golden yellow. 

Miguel swaps the tray for his bags. He's hoping you might be tempted to look while he's gone. He knows before you would've known the entire contents of the open bag by the time he'd left the room, but he returns having taken your tray to the rack and is sorely disappointed. 

That's fine, he decides. You don't have to look. He doesn't mind laying things out for you. 

First port of call: extra pillows. He pulls the plastic wrapped 'hotel pillows' up onto your sheet and tears the plastic. They pop out. He didn't think for pillow cases, so he slides them behind your hospital pillow and pushes you down by the shoulders, not cruel but not particularly gentle —you actually laugh at his handling. He bites back a smile. 

"What, you got me presents?" you ask as he dumps a blanket onto your lap. It's one of those soft, shiny fleece ones patterned with those characters you love so much, the girl and her super powered puppy. 

You rub your hands over it appreciatively and spread it out over your legs. "What's that mean?" he asks, pointing at the Chinese characters, '超級汪汪!'. 

"Chāojí wāngwāng!" you cheer, an impression missing the majority of your usual pep. "Super woof. It's his level five power up. He yaps and Joyce gets her HP back." 

Miguel pretends to know, like he'd forgotten, and you're reminding him. "Ah."

You're watching now, interested. He puts his back between you and the bag and you whine weakly, "Miguel." 

"What? You think these are for you?" 

"Please, I want to see." 

He gives in like a cheap tent, passing you a packet of pearly beads for your bracelet making, skeins of variegated thread that change colours, a packet of pencils with frogs on the lids, a plushie. You don't know how to react and Miguel doesn't know what to say. He honestly doesn't want to say anything, vulnerability stopped being his thing a while ago, but he clears his throat. "Do you know what I look like in the middle of Miniso? Picture it."

Miniso being a Chinese home goods store lined floor to ceiling with plushies.

You laugh weirdly. Miguel knows it's guilt holding you back. 

"One last thing." He sits down on the bed next to you, hands big enough to cover the box in its entirety. "You were wrong, by the way. Extremely wrong, these don't taste a thing like polvorones." 

He passes you the box. You take it into steady hands, smiling widely, your thumb brushing up against the black cursive font. A box of butter leaves from one of your sister dimensions.

"I don't know if they'll taste like they did. Are they the same ones?" 

You nod, loosing a breath between parted lips. "Same ones." 

"If you don't eat them all, I won't get them for you again." 

"That's so mean," you murmur. Miguel would apologise if he thought you meant it. 

"That's how it is. Eat your cookies. I'll come back later to make sure you actually ate dinner." 

He stands. You immediately grab him, cookies dropped in favour of braceleting his wrist in your warm fingers. 

You look up at him through your lashes, a frown dampening your pretty features. At least, in his eyes. 

"Please don't go," you say. Your eyebrows pinch together. It's even more heartbreaking than your catatonia, this pleading loneliness, like you think he won't stay. 

"You have to talk to me," Miguel says. He softens at your chastised wince, sitting back down again. "Did you want a hug?" he asks. 

It's an apology to offer it, though he should've asked you this morning, or yesterday, even the day before. You'd been inconsolable when it happened. Miguel's never seen you that way. Your sunshine shattered, your shoulders shaking under his hands as he led you away from the scene, he didn't hug you like he wanted to. It wouldn't have made a difference at the time. You couldn't speak. You could barely walk. 

Seeing something like that happen leaves a mark, even if you've seen it before. 

You sweep aside your gifts and twist your legs to climb onto your knees. Miguel hadn't realised how much you wanted to be close to him until you're bordering his lap, your arms sliding over his shoulders, your pyjamas soft and smelling of antiseptic under his nose. A switch flicks at your nearness. He pulls you into his lap and sandwiches you there, chest to chest, thankful for his stature because it means he can encapsulate you effortlessly. He can hide you from the world for a short while. 

You choke him half to death. 

"It's okay," he says, your back curved into the length of his forearm, leaning forward so you can take the weight off. "You're okay." 

"I don't– it's not me. I'm not worried about me." 

"It's over," he says. "What's done is done." Which isn't to say it isn't tragic, or that it didn't leave a permanent mark on the world. But you're punishing yourself for a crime you didn't commit.

"It's all my fault," you whisper, your cheek pressing to his shoulder, face hidden in the juncture of his neck.

He tilts his head toward you. "It's my fault. I jumped in. I wanted it to be quick."

"I let him…" 

"You had a grade ii concussion, you didn't let anyone do anything. I'm lucky you didn't pass out right there. I'm lucky you had the ability to defend yourself, because I left you defenceless." 

"No, you didn't, it–" You rub your cheek against his shoulder. "It happened really fast, you were making sure that bot didn't get me because I was stupid enough to leave myself open–" 

"Stop it."

It's harsh enough to stop you in your tracks. Miguel sighs hard, hair blowing away from his face. 

He lays down backward, skewiff on your bed, and pulls you with him in a secure but gentle hold. You make a quiet 'oof' as you go down. Apologetic yet again, Miguel rubs a line up and down your back, fingertips between your shoulders, palm flattening as he reaches the small of your back, your shirt inching up. He's sure you look foolish to anyone watching, but for once, he's past embarrassment. 

"I don't want to hear you blaming yourself. It's not your fault." 

You've twisted on your side on the mattress rather than crush his pelvis, though your chest remains pressed to his. You twist a strand of his dark hair around your finger. "Why did you bring me all this stuff?" you ask softly. 

"To make you feel better." 

"But why… do you… want that? Why does it matter that much, that you'd waste time going to get me things?" 

"Why do you think?" he asks. 

Your lips ghost the column of his throat. "Mm… 'cos you're nicer than you let on." 

"Wrong." 

You laugh again. He's more grateful than he'd ever say aloud. 

"Because you care about me too much." 

Too much is right. He feels like he's at the stern of the universe's most important ship. The universes, plural. That ship is heading square for an iceberg, for the precipice of a gargantuan whirlpool, and there's nothing Miguel can do but hand out buckets and veer sharply to the left, hoping it will be enough, knowing deep down that it won't be if something doesn't give soon. And he's lived a life, two lives, before he even met you. He's tired. He doesn't want to lose anyone else, and he hoped he could do that by never caring again. 

What a stupid hope. 

"I just want you to feel like yourself again," he admits. 

"I really wanted to save him." 

"You can't save everyone." 

He knows better than most. 

"I know," you say, no tears left to cry, voice impossibly small. 

Miguel wraps his arms around you and doesn't let go for a long, long time. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you so much for reading, I really really hope you enjoyed! please think about reblogging if you liked it, I appreciate it &lt;3

[catpriciousmarjara]

Okay so there's this dp x dc tumblr post about the JL finding the Ghost King's family tree or something and lots of misunderstandings happening but I can't find it anymore and would be grateful if someone would send it to me... Anyhow I was inspired by it and this is the result!

Also on ao3 if you wanna check it out there!

The Family Tree

"So you're telling me this is just a family tree?", Green Lantern asked with a frown on his face.

Bruce could see Constantine's eyes twitching at that question. As always, leave it to Hal Jordan to annoy people.

"This isn't just anything", the sorcerer said with narrowed eyes. "It's a Class-X magical artifact. If this thing is used as a focus for a ritual, the magnitude of magical energy would rise by at least 80 factors. For those of you non-magical or unfamiliar with magic, that's fucking huge."

Beside him Zatanna nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ancient manuscript. She hadn't taken her eyes off the scroll for more than a minute since she got to the Watch Tower and first saw it spread out on the containment room table. Constantine was the same. Captain Marvel was not present, working along with Superman, Hawkgirl, and Aquaman on a case, but his reactions have always been dissimilar from his magical colleagues, so his case might be anywhere between staying the hell away from it to trying to inhale it.

It was clear to Bruce that Zatanna coveted it, but was sensible and cautious enough to stay away from it. Constantine had no sense so he was a tossup. From where he was standing between Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter, the Gotham vigilante resolved to keep an eye on the two magicians. They most likely won't try to steal the artifact, considering the heavy dose of 'not messing with that thing' overshadowing the desire to possess it, but the scroll itself might be enchanted to encourage covetous feelings on those nearby. It wouldn't be the first time. Better safe than sorry.

It was Diana that stepped up towards the two JL Dark members to seek more clarification. As both a Demigod and as someone familiar with magic, she was usually the one taking point on such issues.

She gestured to the scroll innocently sitting inside the runic circle the two mages had constructed around it. "You have told us that the artifact is not destructive, that it is merely a record, and that the information it contains is not a spell, or a runic arrangement, or a magic circle. You have also told us that the strange energy readings coming from it are mostly due to the material it's made out of than any catastrophic sorcery enchanted into it. You have at last decoded it as a record of a family tree. Yet it is dangerous, a Class-X relic as you've said. Given all this information, I suppose the correct question to ask here is this: why is a family tree capable of raising magical energy output by 80 factors?"

The two magicians looked at each other. Zatanna finally pried her eyes away from the scroll and faced the room.

"Magic is a force that simultaneously has laws but at the same time adheres to none. It's confusing to explain but for the time being just keep that in mind."

She walked to the center of the room, followed by Constantine, visibly trying to collect her words. Bruce prepared himself for a complicated explanation and activated another one of the batsuit's recorders. He felt the urge to sigh, for a supposed unchained force, Magic was needlessly complex at times, and practically incomprehensible to non-magicals.

At the front, Zatanna took a deep breath and began.

"As you know there are multiple dimensions. But magical dimensions come under a different category. Depending on the overall magical potential of a particular magical dimension, we call it the World State Stable Thaumaturgical Output Capacity, we can classify these dimensions in grades and levels, as either higher or lower, with relation to each other. These levels are dependent on a multitude of variables like space, time, gravity, Events, Proximity, etc and as such are non-linear, and unfixed. That's the first thing."

Bruce could practically see the capitals on the last two. Looks like they would need to hold another meeting to clarify a lot of these concepts. Seeing the dawning of lost expressions on some of the members however, Bruce mentally amended that to many future meetings.

Zatanna continued. "Magical objects from higher dimensions become stronger in lower ones. The inverse is also true. This is all in relation to the Overture and the same polarity orientation of course but we don't need to get into that now-"

On the contrary Bruce thought they really needed more explanation on all of that.

"-In simple terms, a child's toy from a higher dimension could become the focus for an apocalyptic ritual in a much lower dimension, while an apocalyptic artifact from a lower dimension might as well be paperweight in a sufficiently higher one. There are ways around it, but if those methods are not implemented, then this is how it generally goes. The larger the level difference, the higher the power."

Now that wasn't concerning at all. Bruce really needed to update his contingency plans regarding magic.

Constantine continued from where Zatanna left off, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"The second thing is that when it comes to magic, things that are indefinable or unquantifiable become definable and quantifiable. Stuff like love, hate, happiness, despair, fate, necessity, authority? All measurable. Not always needed of course, But definitely possible and frequently used in a variety of magical fields."

The sorcerer leaned against a nearby chair. "One such thing is Significance. The magic contained in true names for instance is mostly based on significance. A true name is significant to you, its a doorway to your soul, and therefore it holds power. Significance is also what we call a positive, additive factor in magic. In the absence of interfering variables, significance as a quantity is directly proportional to magical output. In other words-"

"-the more significant an object or an event, the higher the magical energy output, and consequently higher the magical power", J'onn finished. He looked towards the scroll. "The information recorded on it, the family tree as you've said, valuable in significance, most likely in terms of whose family it's a record of. In addition, the artifact is from a higher dimension with relation to ours, and that has a cumulative effect."

"Yeah exactly", said Constantine with a raised eyebrow. "Which means that if that hypothetical toy Zatanna mentioned? If that happened to be important enough, like a first toy, or a cherished gift or something like that, its significance increases, its potential increases, and in the right hands, or in the wrong hands really, that potential could be harnessed at a lower level."

There was a bout of thoughtful silence as they absorbed all of the information.

But Bruce felt as if he had been quiet enough and took the chance to ask a question of his own. "You mentioned something called the Overture, and polarity orientation. What do they mean?"

Constantine just sighed. "For fuck's sake Batsy those things aren't really important to the discussion..."

Bruce just stared.

..."Fine", the mage said in defeat. "There are many names for it, the Overture, Exordium, Legerdomain, Nascence...but the most accepted two are the Beforebirth, and the Womb. It's not a something as much as it's a someplace, but then again it's not really a place either. Simply put it's the birthplace of Magic, where it all began and all that. It can't be accessed without the Key and that's been lost for a long time. It's actually a mission for many magicals to find it you know? A holy quest for a lot of them. Some of them are straight up crazy though."

Bruce field that information safely away. Figure out a plan to combat fanatic magicians trying to find the birthplace of magic for sinister reasons. "And polarity?"

"Well", Zatanna began, "its how magic is classified according to the nature of...magic? Or rather the essence? It's hard to put in mundane terms...Anyhow broadly speaking there are two main polarities, the Obverse, and the Reverse."

For a moment, she struggled with the explanation before brightening, seemingly having found an idea.

"Picture a number line, but like on the y-axis! Zero is the Overture, Obverse dimensions are the positive number side, and Reverse dimensions are the negative numbers! The higher up the obverse dimension, the larger its magical output! Similarly, the lower down the reverse dimension, the higher its magical output."

Bruce had hardly parsed through that when their resident speedster spoke up.

"Guys", the red clad hero said, "I feel like we missed the obvious follow up question after Ollie over here...like I feel like this is important, but where exactly is the scroll from?"

As one everyone turned towards the artifact.

Constantine grimaced and Zatanna winced. They looked at each other as if asking who wanted to bite the bullet. Finally it looked as if Constantine lost. The sorcerer cursed under his breath.

"Well which dimension is the scroll from?", asked Wonder Woman.

Constantine took what looked like a fortifying breath.

"It's from the Infinite Realms."

Silence.

"What?", the Green Lantern asked intelligently.

"It's from the Infinite Realms. As in Infinite. As in end of the figurative fucking line, number line whatever!"

Everyone stared at the magicians as understanding slowly dawned.

There was what was essentially a magical nuke in the Watch Tower.

"Now", began Martian Manhunter, "this is unfortunate".

[fanfictionroxs]

Wrote this little something regarding Daniel's line "Armand, Amadeo, Arun.. where does the the bullshit start?" and how his reactions are so often seen without context and get unfairly assessed.

Daniel's reaction to someone doing wrong to him is to utterly destroy them. Whether it's him in s1, during the start of it all, after 50 years spent thinking Louis had sex with him in San Francisco and then tried to murder him.. and so being super defensive and unforgiving towards Louis, completely tearing his story to shreds because how can Daniel actually trust his version of the events when this man basically "wham, bam, die now, maam"ed him 50 years ago? (lol) Or whether it's Armand who tortures him for 6 days and Daniel returns the favour with a ferocity, tossing that script to Louis who throws it at Armand like divorce papers because that's what they are ultimately. A complete and total destruction of Armand's 77 years of manipulations.

And while there's many similarities between Louis and Daniel, both having 2 failed marriages, 2 daughters, bad fathers, falling in love with their makers.. the difference lies in their capacity to forgive.

Not saying Daniel isn't capable of forgiveness, obviously he is otherwise Devil's Minion would never have happened or all the little moments we see of him growing empathetic towards Louis even before s2ep5. But expecting him to forgive wrongs of such level (when folks are even bothering to acknowledge that something wrong was done to him) and play nice with beings with whom he has no equal standing, beings who remind him of it all the time, on top of actively dying from a disease? Daniel's reactions aren't that hard to understand, but sadly many folk have a habit of erasing the fact that he very much is Armand and Louis's victim. His fearless attitude and sharp words are a front a lot of times, but he never forgets the wrongs done to him, even if the audience might, and he gets fucking even.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I've been thinking about how Ed starts directly killing people in s2e8. I've seen a lot of worry that this is tragic, that it's Ed falling back into a life he hates with more vigor, and I don't think it's meant to be understood that way at all.

I think it's a triumph.

One thing we absolutely have to understand: there has never been a time on the show when Ed wasn't killing people. That's true for all characters; this is a show about pirates. Even in s1, Ed was leading successful raids and ordering racists skinned. In a realistic sense, nothing has changed.

The difference is in how Ed does not need to construct intricate ways to distance himself from it anymore.

We know that Ed's first time killing was his abusive dad, an event that deeply traumatized him, and it left him thinking himself an absolute monster. His own capacity for violence disgusts and terrifies him, and even though he's been very successful in a very violent career, he needed to distance himself from killing people ("the fire killed those guys, not me") to avoid confronting this part of himself. He believes that the part of himself that is so capable of violence is irredeemable, a monster, unworthy of love.

Even at the start of the season, when Ed is in a self-destructive spiral, it's debateable if he's directly killing anyone. If Lucius had died, he'd probably have said the sea did it, not him. The guy we see him shoot during the raid sequence already had a knife through his chest - it's a step up, and surely meant to be understood as self-harm more than anything else, but that's still a mercy kill, if anything.

Compare to the finale of season 2. These are direct kills, there is no way to argue that Ed is not responsible. It is not debateable that Ed killed all those British officers.

A lot of the worry I've seen around this concern how Ed is going back to what he's good at (as Pop-Pop told him to), and there's an asusmption that that is killing people/violence. But that's not true, is it? Ed's never been good at killing people, his hangups around directly killing are a known character trait. So...what is Ed good at?

Think about how the scene plays out. Ed sees the Republic burning; he can only assume Stede is either captured, wounded, or dead. He's horrified and dazed, his ears ring - he kills the two British soldiers who happen upon him, he decided to fish up his Blackbeard outfit.

What is Ed actually good at? He's a good pirate, a good captain. He's good at keeping his crew safe, he's good at keeping Stede safe. He has to think he's either going to be embarking on a mission to get revenge or to save his boyfriend.

At first, I was very hesitant about the idea of Ed having to go back to piracy, which he says he hates. But what he was actually trying to do was drown Blackbeard, the part of himself he sees as so unworthy of love. He needed to see that Blackbeard is part of him, that he's not a monster or unloveable, that Blackbeard can help him save his friends and his boyfriend.

It's not a coincidencethat the show goes out of its way to make Ed's killing people in this episode as morally easy to accept as possible. The British officers we see are all racist and mean and unpleasant - like, damn, singing 'we shall never be slaves' while making Black characters serve them? Gross! They got what was coming to them! This is the 'racists deserve to die' show, after all.

And Ed uses this violence as a tool for love, to get him back to his boyfriend, to give them a triumphic reunion. I don't think it's a coincidence that this is when Ed tells Stede he loves him, either - he's come one step closer to accepting he's worthy of love, he's more ready to acknowledge what they have.

Ed doesn't have to feel bad about killing those officers. The show doesn't ask him to. He gets to retire while still wearing his Blackbeard outfit - Blackbeard gets to retire, not be drowned with a canonball in the ocean. And we're left with Ed, still with a lot of growing to do and a lot of self-discovery left, but he's closer to realizing that he's not a monster and that he's so deserving of love.

[tabithatwo]

What do you think about the scene in ep1 where Shauna masturbates on her daughters bed while looking at pictures of her boyfriend? Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I found it disturbingly similar to younger Shauna sleeping with Jackie's boyfriend

Oh hey, so this response is like perhaps over a year late but someone else asked me about this and I remembered I had 3/4 of this response drafted so hi I’m here now lmao

Anon, I do NOT think you’re overthinking this scene. I actually think there is so much room to think about this scene that a thesis could be written on it. It’s so layered and an incredibly bold choice on the show’s part to include it. It is our introduction to adult Shauna, and I think that the creators of the show clearly felt that it was very important.

This scene made me so uncomfortable as a first time casual viewer that I actually tried to rationalize it away. I remember saying aloud to the person I was watching with “No, that has to be her own childhood bedroom, right? She must be, like, visiting her aging parents?” Clearly I was ignoring the very ridiculous set design of Callie’s room entirely lol, but my mind wanted to find a different explanation. And it took me a while to come around to really loving Shauna as a first time viewer of the show, in part due to how much that scene shocked me.

All that to say, it is absolutely reasonable to find yourself very uncomfortable when thinking about that scene, as many people say that they do when they’re proclaiming that they wish it didn’t exist in the show. But I don’t think that means the scene should be ignored by any means. That discomfort is the point of the scene. Shauna is such a fascinating character, because she swings back and forth from shockingly depraved and cruel, to heartbreakingly kind and loving. She draws both the audience AND the other characters into this unpredictable back and forth with her, and it is easy for us AND them to forget what she is truly capable of when she is in one of her sweeter moments. That is what makes her one of the most fascinating characters of all time to me.

Okay, now we can get into my personal interpretation of this scene. I have always felt it was about Jackie. I think that was clear early on, but, after s2 aired, having more information about Shauna’s relationship with Callie did impact my interpretation of the scene and solidify some suspicions I had.

Shauna clearly does not see Callie as her daughter in any traditional sense. She tells Lottie as much, that she never could fully believe Callie was real and hers. And we see, with increasing clarity as the show goes on, that Shauna views Callie as a peer more than anything. Shauna has both stunted development and difficulty expressing affection. We see her tell Callie that it would’ve been easier if she HAD just had sex with the cop. That’s a very strong indicator of their dynamic. Shauna just doesn’t have the capacity to mother Callie.

That is important context because, with the scene in Callie’s bedroom, Shauna is recreating the thing she used to do when she was young and Jackie was alive. I don’t think she is even thinking about the fact that it’s her daughter’s boyfriend or bedroom, because she doesn’t even really think of Callie as her daughter much of the time. It’s so complex and muddled and, you guessed it, uncomfortable!

In my opinion, people are NOT ready for the intricacies of the ways Callie is a Jackie proxy for Shauna to be developed further. Like the show is establishing it pretty heavily, and I think in a very compelling way, but if it goes down that road more explicitly I have a feeling that people are not going to be able to separate the WAYS in which Shauna sees Jackie in her, if that makes sense.

I think s2 did have some compelling threads of this. Shauna caring for the Jackie corpse doll and getting frustrated and “hurting” her with the ear coming off scene. Shauna not being able to protect her, initiating and endorsing the consumption of her, then hinting at having fears that she’d hurt the baby when she was pregnant, losing the baby, worrying that they’d do to the baby what they did to Jackie, twisting it so much that she can’t help but believe they ate the baby too.

She associated the baby with Jackie very heavily. And in doing so, I think she parentified herself to Jackie in a really fascinating way, like Jackie was her first failure.

If she couldn’t care properly for Jackie, who loved her so much (and became an actual martyr and saint to her), and she couldn’t care for her children who were absolute innocents, then she must be the epitome of horrible and she should squash those caring instincts bc clearly they aren’t actually Good, type shit. That’s how I feel like Shauna spirals into her destructive behavior.

So what happens here, imo, is that Shauna doesn’t really see any of her relationships clearly. I don’t think she consciously thinks of Jackie as The Girl She Was In Love With, and I don’t think she consciously thinks of Callie as her daughter most of the time. Shauna just thinks of them both as people she has loved and failed, as well as people who piss her the fuck off and make her feel trapped in a life she doesn’t want.

She sees a lot of Jackie in Callie, and she acts out in really horrifying ways throughout the entire show to try and gain control, and this scene is one of them. Shauna has always used sex as a way to reclaim control, even when it is absolutely insanely inappropriate, and often when it isn’t at all about actual pleasure. We see more of this in s2, when she BRINGS JEFF TO THE ART STUDIO OF THE MAN SHE KILLED AND FUCKS HIM THERE (that was fucking INSANELY risky and destructive). With masturbating on Callie’s bed, looking at a pic of her bf, Shauna is acting from the same place she was when taking Jeff from Jackie in a way, and I get why that’s uncomfortable to watch. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, it is SUPPOSED to!

But I think that we are viewing it with so much more logic and thought than Shauna is capable of applying. We draw conclusions from it that are based on a sane person, and Shauna is far from that. I think Shauna is briefly recreating multiple feelings and motivations that drove her to sleep with Jeff as a teenager. The sexual side of things is so wholly Jackie driven, she is constantly seeking ways to feel the way she felt when she was creating that proxy sexual connection with Jackie that she verbatim discusses with Jeff (which is so crazy btw not over that scene). But the side that relates to Callie is driven purely by the frustration and anger. Again, I don’t think Shauna has consciously thought about ANY of it, but if I had to interpret the driving emotions, then I think those would be the most likely.

And I think what it says about Shauna is that she is not living in reality in the slightest. You can not overstate the lack of conscious thought that goes into her actions when she does these things. She is acting on pure impulse, and without any certainty that anything is actually real.

She breaks my heart and this convo about the masturbation scene is so interesting to me because YEAH, that was a ROUGH introduction! and it took me rewatches to allow myself to dig into her character and that’s the point tbh.

On instinct, people either see the actions clearly and hate her, or obscure them to the point of forgetting they happened and love her. But it’s much harder to reckon with them and dig in and come out still loving her.

(I truly can’t believe I have to say this, but I was recently introduced to the fact that yj incest shippers exist, so disclaimer: this is NOT meant to be taken as a romantic or sexual interpretation of Shauna and Callie’s relationship at all. In fact, when I say that I don’t think people are ready for detangling the WAYS in which Shauna sees Jackie in Callie this is exactly what I mean. I just assumed people would wrongly assume it was That and be horrified. I didn’t consider the opposite, and I would like to continue not considering the opposite, so I will prob block anyone who engages with this in that way simply bc I do not want to see it and this is my social media lol)

[galactic-rhea]

I think that despite aaaaaaall the very obvious problems about the whole Tuskens plot in AOTC (that also come from IRL bias); something people seem to be hung at is about Padmé's romance being unbelieveable after Anakin confesses the massacre to her; and like I can understand why, since not everyone thinks too hard about her character, but I do, and it's just kind of annoying to have most people saying it was character assasination for and that she shouldn't have known about the fact. BUT! I think it shows quite a lot of deepness and the dynamic about their relationship.

Is a very, very morally gray moment of Padmé, I would say is one of the most charged moments for her, her response is "To be angry is to be human"; Padmé had been, since she was presented, going through ungodly amounts of stress, her people was dying and being taken to camps when she was 14, at the start of AOTC one of her handmaids died in front of her eyes, and through none of these moments she has been able to express much more than some veiled, some composed, some acceptable, anger, I don't believe this to be coincidencce.

Padmé pretty much represents the justice and the good ideals of the Republic, she's pretty much a source of light in the story; this isn't to say she can't do wrong, or that she isn't flawed. She's giving Anakin a chance to do better, even though isn't within her right to decide so, but she's also kind of the only character that does seem to understand Anakin the best, almost beat for beat and she knows he's coming from a very very bad place, with a terrible childhood, she knows how he was when he was nine, she knows of her past.

She isn't oblivious or naive about how terrible Anakin's actiones were, she's just aware of his reasons, she's just able to sympathize with him, she's able to see he feels inmense guilt, and she also is sure he can still be able to do better (and he did! As an audience we know he was capable of much better and of being a force of good very needed. His fall doesn't undo the fact Anakin did went through great lengths to help others) Her reaction, honestly, just puts her in league with Luke imo. "Hey, that's terrible, awful, beyond , but you know, I still love you, because you're still a person I care about. You can do better."

But it also shows how her love is, in many ways, similar to Anakin's, in the sense that's very encompasing, very loyal, very "Follow you to hell and back", she's able to offer him the sympathy and the belief of his ultimate good nature that she wouldn't offer to others (she fell in love with him before going to Tatooine). It can be see as hypocritical, but she's also kind of right, she's proven right. She's still shocked and heartbroken in ROTS because the situation was much more different, because there wasn't any reason for her to believe he would commit something like that again after he clearly expresses so much guilt and trauma over it.

And, when it comens to the relationship with Anakin, I think it makes some senses; it means there is honestity between them, he confessed to her one of the most evil deeds he had commited yet, there's something about it that makes all of Anakin's others relationships different: Obi-Wan and Ahsoka didn't know about this In Anakin's POV, is probable that any kind of love or appreciation Obi-Wan and Ahsoka showed him came with a layer of guilt and distrust because he thinks they don't really know him, probably thinks they would hate him or think he deserves punishment.

And yeah, like, morally talking, he should've gone to jail or at least have a trial or something, but like, what exactly would that manage, or fix in your little fantasy-sci-fi movies? But you know who knew and still loved him? Padmé and Palpatine. In one had, you have Padmé who truly, does love him and believes in his ultimate capacity for goodness. On the other...

So yeah, I think knowing of what he's capable is actually a very integral part of the anidala relationship, and it does give Padmé some deepness you wouldn't usually see in other female characters, and the narrative does tell you she was kind of right.

Because, if I'm honest with you, Padmé and Anakin marrying with Anakin keeping the secret of murdering a whole village, wouldn't do it for me, would actually make me not like or not care for the relationship at all, at least not in their 'romance' sense, because it would be just kind of a Blue Beard, kind of your average "Woman finds out Her Wonderful husband/boyfriend is secretly a Serial Murdered and keeps it hidden for her". That, and also that Anakin is actually very honest, maybe a bit too honest for his own good, when it comes to Padmé and Palpatine, he spills at the edges all the time.

It's meaningful, for them both, that they met each other when they were under extremelly bad circumstances, she knew him as a literal child slave that risked his life to save strangers, and he knew her first as a servant, a handmaid, and then as a queen. And then she knows of his crimes, and he knows he can be fully honest with her, and now he knows how she felt about being a queen, about being a politician, things she never says to anyone else. They're kinda in equal footing and that's why it's meaningfull, as inmoral and messy and kinda selfish it can be.

But yeah, yeah, I ramble a lot, sorry this is very very messy and idk kind of badly written i just wrote as it came to me,I was sleepy and saw yet another youtuber trying to explain why padmé's character was assasinated or something. Because when it comes to her is a flaw and her being irrational, but when it comes to Luke is all encompassing goodness and proof of undying love, siiigh.

[ohwaitimthewriter]

You know what?

I've been thinking about how falling in love would be so different for our apes men and women and for us human.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about being a good heart or a complete jerk, because of course it is in both cases (apes and human) a very important part to fall in love. It's more about the differences between the practical and inner aspect of things.

Like, to fall in love, as human, we need to share who we are through conversations and activities. I do believe we fall in love thanks to our mindset and if the other person is able to intellectually increase our own mind. To fall in love, we care about the way people think and how they use their brain and if it matches the way our own brain works. Which leads to a lot of talks and brings all physical and practical aspects to a secondary focus. Your intellect comes first and your physical/practical aspect comes second.

Meanwhile I believe for our apes men and women it'd be more about practical stuff first and second if you have a good way of thinking it's a bonus. Apes will tend to show what they are capable of which leads to falling in love with them: are you able to bring food? Build a safe nest? Follow a small pray? Craft useful tools? Are you strong enough to keep your family safe? Apes will not talk but will show their skills. They will get impressed by your capacity to hunt, build, repair, heal and take care of others. Your intellect will come secondary.

I don't know if I'm clear in what I'm trying to explain? 😂

But this would lead to funny things I think when you and Caesar or Noa would try to court/flirt with each other.

Caesar would more or less understand this "inner" aspect in falling in love for a human so he'll cleverly let you on purpose have long conversation with him while he's showing off his strength or skills to craft a weapon or build a comfortable nest. It's like... you talk, he shows 😂 and he will subtly trying to make you do stuff so you show him your skills while he'll use conversation to explain you how to craft a weapon so he can show you his intellect as well.

Caesar wants you to fall in love with him through your own way AND through his way and vice versa: he wants to fall in love with you through your way and through his own way.

Caesar is deviously smart 😂

Noa... well, he would NOT get that inner aspect, he just thinks you're a talkative human. It's just another very human thing. But wait wait wait don't get me wrong Noa LOVES when you talk to him because he's a very curious ape and he wants to KNOW stuff and LEARN but he also see courting as a very serious thing and if you talk while he is trying to court you through showing you his skills.... can you please focus a little bit? I'm trying to make an impression on you there!

Little did he know you fall in love with him when you share these conversations about culture and traditions stuff...

And when you're trying to craft something from wood or weaving a blanket? Little did you know this is when he falls in love with you.

Should I make it a full oneshot? SHOULD I??

[alastors-antlers]

Why Alastor is good aroace rep after all, written by an aroace

Hello all! I just want to start off this post by saying that I'm one person who definitely doesn't speak for all aroaces, but I wanted to make a post on this anyway, and maybe some folk would be interested in hearing out another perspective?

I'm not really caught up on everything that's been said over the course of HH's creation - only more recent interviews, since I'm pretty new to the fandom. Apologies if I've missed anything, but also I do not have the time to keep up with all the out-of-canon-material backstory unfortunately. I'm working with what we've got here.

So here's the thing:

Alastor is cruel, he's narcissistic, he doesn't care about anyone except himself, he's a serial killer and a monster.

(That's the argument I've heard - please tell me if that's not really what people are going for lol, in which case I've totally misunderstood?)

The issue with aroace rep when it paints asexual people with those traits is that it aims to dehumanizes them. Sex and love are essential to the human experience, right? So why wouldn't someone be interested? Because they're self-absorbed, and cold, and detached. They don't have the capacity to love others enough to feel romance.

And sure, Alastor is a killer, and a schemer, and prideful, and a monster by hell's standards. But no matter how above it all and stylish and in control and provocative he wants to be, he's a very human character, and his aroace-ness never serves to add to his alienation. You could even say that it makes him seem even more personable.

That's what I think is the key difference.

why he's human

Alastor's whole persona is about control, and he basically straight-up says this. He's controlling what his enemies know, what his public image is like. His goal is to be the Radio Demon -- overlord of Hell, charismatic, Machiavellian, and undefeatable. He's not. Despite that smile plastered over his face (a powerful tool, huh) he's so expressive for someone who's constantly pretending.

You see his exasperation with the Egg Bois and with Charlie's ranting; his nervousness in front of Zestial; his frustration with Lucifer and the petty lengths he goes to to piss off the ruler of Hell.

You see his desperation, making that deal with Charlie. He's surprised by the idea of being vulnerable in front of an enemy like Adam, and so close to danger. He drops the radio filter and the affect out of fear, and runs on broadcast TV to let out panic and anger and bitterness in his hideout, where no one else can see him.

He has a smile that tells us he's genuinely happy to see someone; it's a little wider than his default. You see it with Mimzy's greeting, you see it with Rosie. Rosie, especially, serves to make Alastor more human to the audience. More on this later, but for now, I'm just saying that you can see that he at least seems to respect her greatly. Whatever bond they have, we know that he trusts her to touch him, to share history with him, and with support that he trusts no one else for.

He pretends, but he can't pretend it all away. Loads of these emotions aren't even advantageous for him to show. It isn't necessarily how the typical asexual psychopath acts; he's not emotionless or only capable of anger or brutality.

He's so full of emotion that it leaks through, despite all that he does to avoid it. He's not inhuman and aloof, not really - he's so, so human, even when he tries not to be because he thinks that'll be what keeps him above all the rest. In control, and free from his chains.

(If anyone wants to see images about all this, I'll make a separate post - just let me know.)

(I also have another post, talking about why Alastor is at least a little attached to the hotel's residents too, shown via conversation with Niffty. In what way? different question.)

how the aroace part contributes to that

Now, to be fair, we don't hear much about his aroaceness in canon. It's just not relevant a lot of the time.

In the pilot, Angel's proposition ruffles his feathers so much that Alastor blanks for a moment. It's a joke, sure, but that ace panic face is a pretty popular Alastor moment in the fandom - Alastor, thrown off-balance by a sex joke of all things, after so many years in Hell that he should probably be used to this.

It's a moment that makes him more approachable; his aroaceness shows him unprepared for something someone else does for one of the only real moments in the whole episode.

And the other part: the ace in the hole statement.

Rosie apparently knows Alastor so well that she read that he's aroace. That tells us about their relationship; namely, that it is long-standing and genuine enough that she gleaned a piece of real information from him. It's a casual fact that she knows about him before he even figured it out himself. It lends legitimacy to their bond - this bond that shows us a more comfortable and warm side of Alastor that we don't often see.

If their relationship is purely business, isn't this something pretty frivolous and personal? It's not like he has anything to gain by telling her about his life, but she learned about it somehow. How close are they? That's where it adds a layer of complexity and personality to his character..

thoughts on representation

Overall, Alastor's an interesting character who has a level of depth and care and personality (outside of cruelty) that asexual psychopath tropes lack. Again, the moments where he's being represented as disinterested in sex or romance don't make him seem detached. Again, they don't say "look how hostile toward relationships his behaviour is - how separate he is from our humanity". That's what bad villain ace rep is. That's not what the show's doing.

Also: I'm not saying that we need to lower our standards or anything, but even if you think it's not the best rep, I feel like we should be supporting HH's efforts here. I know that on Tumblr we have a pretty queer-friendly space going, which is honestly an understatement lol but

Aces are incredibly underrepresented in fiction. There's a whole Wikipedia page about asexual characters in media, and it's short as all hell, and even if you consider what's on there you see quite a number of one-off characters who are never mentioned again.

In terms of real life business - before the DSM updated their definition of hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSDD) in 2013, identifying as asexual wasn't even a recognized thing. If you talked to a clinician about your lack of sexual desire, you could be diagnosed with a disorder. Only in the 5th edition do we now have a little exclusion footnote about it.

The concept of asexuality hasn't been explored nearly as much as other queer identities in our scientific research. We get crumbs in terms of mainstream representation and understanding. House M.D. has an episode where House "disproves" us because he's just so smart.

Alastor isn't going to be perfect representation. There's no such thing as perfect representation, and from the moment he was conceptualized, you could see how people would take him poorly. Still, I think he's a net positive.

He isn't a side character or a token ace - he's a core part of the show, whose personality and character motivations we can reasonably presume are going to be explored much more deeply in upcoming season(s). He's loved by the fandom. Right now, given what we know, I trust Vivziepop to write the aroace representation he deserves, because with the way I've heard the cast/directing/etc. talk about him, they're trying to do the aroace community justice, so I wish people would let up just a little on the whole "Alastor is bad rep".

Let's give him a chance, all right?

[vendimeyers]

The fairy/walrus thing is actually kind of an incredible testament to the truth behind Brandon Sanderson’s first law of magic.

For those that don’t know, popular fantasy author Brandon Sanderson has become quite renowned for how he implements magic in his stories and he decided to write three different essays on the rules he follows and why they work the way they do in storytelling. He calls them his “laws of magic” and the first one is: An author’s ability to solve conflict with magic is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.

Basically, in general for good fantasy writing, you can do anything you want with magic and it will almost always alway be accepted by the reader as long as you set up beforehand what the magic is capable of. Or if you didn’t do that it has to be something the reader discovers with the characters (I mean this generally of course I’m sure there’s always exceptions).

Both the walrus and the fairy scenario imply to the reader (of the poll) some form of magic was employed. The reason a fairy sounds more plausible at that point is because the general cultural consensus in people’s minds is that fairies are already magic and it’s not far of a stretch to believe that a fairy would employ the thing it’s universally known for in order to show up at people’s houses.

However with the other scenario, a walrus knocking at your door. Implies that a walrus is employing some form of magic. But the problem with that is that we already KNOW what a walrus is capable of. A walrus has RULES. When the only rule a fairy has to follow in order to knock on someone’s door is “be magic” a walrus has to first break all the rules we already have about it before “be magic” is even an allowed concept. Before a walrus can be magic it has to take a journey of some length from its aquatic origins, have a specific destination in mind(outside of their regular behavior patterns), and have the capacity to knock. All forms of magic that walrus’ are not known for employing.

Like if the walrus scenario was a book someone was reading and at the very beginning the author described a world in which there was a secret society of walrus’ who have there own politics and methods of travel and cultural nuances, and then went on to describe one of THOSE walrus’ appearing on the reader’s doorstep then the reader would left with a much smaller sense of disbelief more comparable to that of a fairy showing up on their doorstep.

Anyway this wasn’t to say that there was a wrong or right answer to the poll I just think peoples brains are neat and I love how something like a silly little poll can highlight such a big truth in how people communicate to each other and take in information.