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bookishbrewer · 1 day

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Gummigoo & existentialism in TADC - an examination:

Let's start this post by addressing the two most important terms I'll be discussing in this post:

1. Existentialism

A philosophical current which discusses human existence. Main issues that are included in this philosophy are: the absurd, free will, the meaning of life and existential loneliness.

Now, it is no secret that TADC does dab into existentialism in it's plot quite often. It is represented in the main character, Pomni, which begins her journey lost, scared & confused - but proceeds to begin processing the feelings of dread, horror & loneliness (see a theme here?) at the tail end of episode 2, after her encounter with a certain Gummy-Gator.

2. Nihilism

The belief that life lacks inherent meaning or purpose, often leading to a sense of existential despair & the rejection of traditional moral/societal norms.

This approach will be explained as we dive deeper into the relevant episode.

Let's start at the beginning of episode 2:

After the events of the first episode (Pomni first appears at the circus, is introduced to the concept of the circus & her fellow crew members, encounters abstraction & understands that there is no exit, at least not currently) Pomni is having a nightmare in which she is beginning to become abstracted & is sent down the celler with the rest on the abstracted "lost causes", and not only that, as the darkness surrounds her, she's seeing the silhouettes of Caine, Ragatha & Jax (leader, nice one, mean one) all disregarding what is happening to her, allowing her to fall inside the black.

Pomni is exploring the main themes of existentialism in her arc in those 2 episodes:

1. Loneliness - Existentialism deals with human existence in an age where traditional religious beliefs are weakened & the validity of absolute truths is undermined, which leads many to feelings of loneliness and alienation. In Pomni's case,her reality of being a human being, bound by morals, laws (including the laws of physics) & being mostly free to move around in the world as she pleases is shattered once she realizes that she is stuck in the circus, there's no way out. The headset is not coming off, the doors are fading. Loneliness originates from the assumption that one cannot truly communicate with another person, the way Pomni feels alienated from her crew members is a great example of that. No one wants to search for an exit with her, the nicest character (Ragatha) herself is dealing with her own existential thoughts & coping mechanisms:

So, essentially, Pomni realizes she the only person that actually cares about finding an exit. Going back to existentialism, the feeling of existence can feel so unique & strange that it cannot be shared by another, just as it is not possible to share in the feelings of another person's existence. Essentially, Pomni begins to isolate herself from the group: believing her existence is unique, compared to theirs. She will find the door. She will be able to leave. She gets to do all of that, even if it means leaving some of them hurt, and just as, and if not more alone than she is feeling:

Instead of understanding the existence of the other, we see her choosing herself, her "more real" self over the others. Horror is a natural response to life in a world without meaning and purpose, to which one was thrown without choosing it and in which he was "destined to live" (in this case, the circus). From the very same world characters like Pomni will either part violently, in abstraction (in existentialism: death), without understanding what it was all about, what was the MEANING of it all.

2. Freedom - Existentialism offers more than just a bleak view of existence, it introduces the notion of hope and redemption! Especially emphasizing the positive aspects of human consciousness and will, such as absolute freedom and uniqueness. In TADCs latest episode, Pomni begins to understand that she can find meaning and hope, even if she's no longer in her "human form". She doesn't have to lose her humanity, too. When she falls outside of the map & encounters Gummigoo, this is what was happening to him before:

He began to realize that something about his existence was off. That he wasn't who he thought he was. Mirroring Pomni in the sense of his identity, like hers, was given a good shake. One of Gummigoo's questions to Pomni was "what are you people?", but then he realizes that it isn't really what he wants to know. He then asks:

He then tries to sort his coded-in memories: where's mum? The fighter that taught him everything he knew? The one who's whole mission with his bandit crew was for? Then he realizes something even more horrifying: he doesn't remember her face, or if she had a face at all. Then comes the big question "was anything ever real?". Pomni then suggests something:

Pomni understands what Gummigoo is going through now, he's having what is called an existential crisis: when someone deeply questions the meaning and purpose of their life, often causing feelings of confusion and anxiety. She understands it because she just went through it herself when popping in the Digital Circus. According to the philosophy of existentialism, an existential crisis may involve confronting the idea that life has no inherent meaning/purpose and grappling with the responsibility of creating one's own meaning in a seemingly indifferent universe. Gummigoo asks of Pomni to tell him exactly what he is

Here, Gummigoo makes his first free choice: he wants to know the truth. He wants Pomni, who's clearly different from him in a sense he can't even yet fathom to tell him what is actually going on, and what the reality actually is. While the idea of freedom in existentialism is not new, it gives it a fresh perspective by highlighting the individuality of existence and condemning conformity. Gummigoo refuses to remain ignorant. He doesn't want to be left in the dark, not anymore. According to existentialism, humans are inherently free and cannot escape this freedom, leading to the famous assertion that "Man is condemned to freedom". In this case, freedom begins with knowledge, choosing awareness. Although, Gummigoo does dabble a bit in despair and nihilism when later Pomni, while trying to launch them back on the surface of the map, notices Gummigoo sulking in the background & asked him for help:

Pomni, softly: Hey, you okay?

Gummigoo, distraught: No.

Pomni: You wanna talk about it?

Gummigoo: What is there to talk about?

At this point there's a beautiful symbolic shot of Pomni walking from a blank & "limitless" background towards Gummigoo, whom sits in a blueprint-like background, defeated:

Notice that at the beginning, Pomni's hand is reaching out towards Gummigoo, saying she doesn't just want to leave him below the map, but then when he asks her "why not?" she pulls back her hand as he is saying "I don't matter in the slightest, I'm nothing. My life, my memories, my friends, it's all fake".

Pomni understands what he is feeling, this is very similar to her conversation with Ragatha in the pilot about why go on Caine's adventures at all, instead of looking for an exit. She even says that, as she decides to sit next to Gummigoo, making a very close reference to the nihilistic approach:

Pomni: This may seem weird, but I think I know the feeling [...] feeling like you're nothing is kinda normal, I mean people even feel like that in the world I come from.

But then, Pomni decides to reject this approach & return back to existentialism's approach to the search for meaning:

Pomni: But... You still care about your buddies up there, don't you? I'm sure they still care about you.

Gummigoo, at first still insists on remaining nihilistic:

Gummigoo: What does it matter? What do we have when you people leave? We're just obstacles, created to be defeated & forgotten.

But Pomni insists:

Pomni: Well, you don't have to be.

Existentialist philosophers emphasize that there is a correlation between loneliness and freedom, asserting that while people may feel isolated, they are also liberated to choose their own lifestyles, worldviews, and values. Pomni suggests that Gummigoo returns to the circus with her, a place she begins to realize is, at least for the time being, her new home. She suggest that if he returns there with her, he can become someone real there, too. Like her.

When Gummigoo asks Pomni why is she even trying to cheer him up, Pomni simply replies "I guess, I don't want you to feel like you're nothing", calling back to how she felt in the circus, what the nightmare at the beginning of the episode was affirming in her mind. She did not want anyone to feel this way.

Some existentialists thinkers emphasize freedom in choosing a lifestyle, world view & scale of values. The person is free to adopt a practical philosophy (I am my own person, NPC, video game character or otherwise) but is also free to formulate for themselves the world view that suits them in their own time & ternd, as well as to avoid a consolidated view. This is the type of freedom Pomni wants to offer Gummigoo, the freedom she believes she currently has.

3. The Absurd & Rebellion - I want to discuss Albert Camus' approach here, although there are many other philosophers that discuss the same subject (some even believe the Absurd is its own philosophical current), because I believe his attitude fits best to TADCs approach. He believed that the absurd arises from the inherent clash between humanity's desire for meaning and the indifference of the universe. In his essay "The Myth of Sisyphus," Camus famously states that the only truly serious philosophical question is whether or not to end one's life in the face of the absurd. He suggests that instead of succumbing to despair, like nihilists suggest, one should embrace the absurd & live life to its fullest, finding meaning through rebellion against the absurdity of existence.

Pomni: [...] And... I could use a friend.

Gummigoo: ... A friend.

Gummigoo, standing up: You're a strange little character, suppose I could give it a try. All I ask is that we don't tell the lads about this [...] I don't want to drag them down with me.

Gummigoo accepts Pomni's approach, but he does want to protect his friends from the truth, seeing as he doesn't want them to go through the same type of crisis & pain he went through. He wants to rebel, but he doesn't want anyone else to carry the burden.

After going back to the circus... Well, y'know what happens.

After that, Pomni begins to cackle maniacally & smiling in a deranged way. Ragatha tries & fails to console her:

Ragatha: I'm really sorry about that, Pomni. At least you tried. You know, he might be back in a future adventure, I know Caine sometimes likes to reuse NPCs

But then, Zooble approaches:

Zooble: Got everything ready.

Ragatha, to Pomni: Hey,you'd like to at least wanna join us for Kaufmo's funeral? We like to have a little funeral service to remember the people who abstract [...]

Kinger: It's the least we can do to honor their memory.

As Pomni is listening to the Eulogies given by Ragatha, Gangle, Kinger & Zooble, she remembers her nightmare but this time, were shown a different ending:

Pomni finally realizes that even if she's trapped, even if there is no exit, even if she will lose people she loves, or even herself, she won't be alone. There are going to be people there to catch her, console her, hold her, mourn her.

She won't end up alone.

She is not a nobody.

She is a person.

She has meaning.

Thank you so much for reading 🙏💜

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sitp-recs · 6 months

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Hello, I was wondering if you could have any friends to lovers drarry fic rec for me? I enjoy slow burn with a kind and soft Draco (where he isn’t a bully) or one where draco stood for the light side of the war (so preferably during the war). I just want want to see Draco have a strong friendship with the golden trio, really! (I don't mind if the romance is a subplot. I just want a focus on Draco)

(I quite literally watched Harry Potter with my sister thinking Draco was going to have a hell of a redemption arc and was sorely disappointed... So here I am seeking for comfort fics)

Anyways thanks in advance!

Hi anon! I feel you, Draco’s redemption arc was poorly done and so frustrating :( I hope you’ll enjoy these as they combine slow burn, friends to lovers and redeemed Draco. Some are told from Harry’s pov and while Draco’s not always soft I think his characterization will be right up your alley. You might also enjoy GallaPlacidia’s Draco, her fics were taken down but you can find them here. Finally, I have also added my personal favorites redemption arc as a separate category, highly recommend them. Enjoy!

Friends to lovers slow burn:

Vortex by @xanthippe74 (T, 20k)

The idea of perfectly-matched soulmates feels more like a curse than a blessing to Draco. Who would want a soulmate who was a schoolyard bully, a Death Eater, and a convicted felon? Certainly not Harry Potter. And Draco is determined to take this secret to the grave.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (T, 22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

Moldova's Magical Tea by @aibidil (E, 32k)

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy.

Open For Repairs by @drarrytrash (M, 35k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 38k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by @aibidil (E, 80k)

In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

At Your Service by Faith Wood (E, 95k)

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There's only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

My favorites - Redemption arc:

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (T, 10k)

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

Slithering by astolat (E, 27k)

Draco found the nest down in the Manor’s cellars, while he was clearing them out.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.” “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

A Young Radical's Guide to Love by @blamebrampton (T, 66k)

Memories of the war are still fresh, which is all the excuse Decent People need to do appalling things. In this quietly waged conflict, Draco Malfoy is happy to be on the right side of things for once, and even happier to find he’s not alone.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 302k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #friends to lovers #slow burn #redemption arc

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snowyh2o · 3 months

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Dumb late night Hazbin ideas:

Ok, so hear me out. What if, Alastor gets a redemption arc? But it happens so slowly and unnoticed that by the end of the series you just turn around and find out that he’s already been redeemed and no one has any clue how it happened.

Alternatively, AU where the hotel’s very presence forces redemption on everyone who stays there whether they want to or not and one day Alastor wakes up and wonders if he should let Vox broadcast his shows uninterrupted that day before promptly glitching out in absolute horror at the thought. And then absolutely going out of his way to decimate one of Vox’s broadcasts just to prove to himself that he’s still just as much of an evil bastard as he always is.

Cue multiple scenarios where Alastor is trying really fucking hard to be eeeeevil and then somehow utterly failing. Watching as he’s slowly forced into being a good person against his will, and knowing there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Oh he’s still just as petty and sassy and sinister as ever, but whatever edge he had ends up lost in the thought of perhaps he should do something special for Charlie and the other residents for their first month of the hotel opening and—GODS BE DAMNED!

No one else notices it, partly because he’s always toned down the Clearly Scheming Aura when he’s around them, but also because he’ll be damned if anyone of them catches on. Husk sees through his bullshit, but ends up with the wrong conclusion and Alastor is happy to let him think whatever about leashes and deals as long as he keeps his mouth shut, buuuuut maybe he’d been a bit too harsh on the barkeep. He should make up for it with some higher quality booze and— really, it’d be nice to have something that’s more to his taste than the stuff that’s usually kept around.

Of course, Alastor’s not the only demon being forced into becoming a good person, he’s just the only one who’s noticed it. Charlie, who is 99% of the time a good person, is absolutely convinced that the better than usual behavior of the residents is a result of her efforts in the hotel. Vaggie’s also already a decent person for the most part, and after that conversation with Husk, Angel’s improved by leaps and bounds. Nifty doesn’t notice anything’s off at all, and Husk just thinks his better mood and temperament in general is because the quality of his liquor’s gone up and the company really ain’t all that bad. Sir Pentious also hasn’t noticed anything, but agrees with Charlie that her efforts have been working.

And then the hotel gets attacked and Alastor discovers this wonderful loophole in whatever spell’s got him entrapped and absolutely decimates the attackers. He’s so gleeful about his discovery and the absolute beat down he gave out without feeling the need to pull his punches that he ends up cooking everyone dinner. Everyone else is understandably very weirded out by this. Alastor couldn’t care less.

Charlie: uh, Alastor? Are you feeling alright there?

Alastor: why Charlie, I’m doing absolutely wonderful! Thank you for asking.

Charlie: oh, that’s uh, that’s great to hear!

Charlie: …

Charlie: so do you mind telling me why you’ve decided to make dinner…?

Alastor: mmmm. Just in the mood for it, I suppose. It’s been a while since I’ve cooked for others, and I’m feeling rather— creative right now!

Alastor: tell me, should I include a portion of today’s unlucky patron into the stew? It’s a bit stringy, but the stew should soften it right up!

Charlie: oh uhm. How about we don’t include any demon parts into the food?

Alastor: *raises eyebrow*

Charlie: I mean, we don’t know where it’s been! He could have had all sorts of diseases inside him. It’d uh, ruin the food if we added…. Bad meat? *nervous smile*

Alastor: mmmmm, fair enough.

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franklespine · 5 months

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Lucifer telling Sam "you've gone soft" in 11.10 is soooooooooooooooo...

Yes it's all a manipulation tactic, but Lucifer walking Sam through his memories, things that seem a lifetime ago, saying this is how you were before: bold and decisive - this is the Sam that saved the world, this isn't you anymore - when Lucifer is the reason why Sam is the way he is now. Insane. There are rare moments of gold in supernatural and one of them is when they play on the psychological horror in the fact that Lucifer; his torturer, tormentor, abuser and other half of his soul is the one that knows him best. He knows how powerless Sam feels - now that he's got lifetimes of trauma from the Cage that have skinned and flayed him on every level. His rigorous, borderline obsessive routine he keeps in his daily life through exercising and healthy eating - all to maintain a semblance of control. Yet deep down, it's like he told Rowena in s13:

"It’s not going to change anything. You’re still going to feel helpless."

Just as Lucifer knew that playing on Sam's desperate faith in religion and scramble to achieve purity (to be saved - as he said in s2) would be the only thing to get him to even go near the Cage, Lucifer knows that throwing back in his face his increased docility as time goes on as Sam's true failure and the reason why he will fail everyone around him is the only thing that could make Sam let himself be Lucifer's vessel. The way he spins it to sound like Sam not letting Lucifer out is proof of his weakness and helplessness. What if that was my last straw?

This scene, this whole episode, was so good and it made me want to claw my eyes out.

Lucifer calls him prissy. He says I never liked you but at this point - when you made the hard choice to save the world and condemned yourself in the Cage to me in holy matrimony, I respected you. You're not that person anymore. You're soft and placid and weak and that's something to be ashamed of. You're going to doom the world now because you're too screwed in the head. Look at you and your first romantic affairs when you were younger - Solid B on the tongue action - yes I know that about you too.

Lucifer being all righteous in saying that its the fact that Sam and Dean would do anything to save each other that is the problem that keeps dooming the world. And it's horrible because Sam knows he's right, the viewer knows he's right - their codependency is their moral pitfall, but it's all spiraling to the worst conclusion.

Tell you what - the second half of s11 can shove it's sympathy for the devil routine down my throat all it wants, but I will never stop hating that slimy bastard. The potential of s11 was unmatched in reaping psychological warfare on Sam, and it was a shame that it played out in such a... goofy... unnuanced... cheap semblance of a redemption arc... way that it did. But still, it is scenes like this one that pull through to make the season worth it.

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vivantesopales · 2 years

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so i made a tomarry rec list to convert my mutuals🍷

or: 10 fics i adore and the potion ingredients they taste of

What He Grows To Be | M, 260k | @k-s-morgan

A story of trust, remorse and the darker aspects of love. It is premised on one of the most beloved tomarry tropes – 'Harry time travels back to raise Tom' – and so Tom is given the chance to unlearn his frankly disastrous sense of entitlement and ultimately, to be reshaped by empathy and forgiveness. WHGTB is the perfect fic to get into tomarry if you're not quite sure what to expect from this ship, still wondering what their dynamic might look like, etc.

love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) | M, 34k | @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

An accident takes Harry back to the winter of 1945, where he immediately captures the interest of a fresh-out-of-Hogwarts, not-yet-beyond-saving Tom. Their dynamic is deliciously intense from the start, with Harry being his usual sassy, dorky self that leaves Tom equally infuriated and intrigued. And Tom's arc, likewise, is beautifully crafted. Conversations about redemption, about remorse, are layered, thoughtful. Expect hurt/comfort, domestic softness, a devastating cliffhanger and an ending that will gently put you back together like a forehead kiss.

As Is The Father, So Is The Son | E, 4.5k | @this-is-your-heichou-speaking

An a/b/o royalty AU in which Tom (the Prince) is practically obsessed with Harry, who happens to be an omega boy from his father’s harem. This is undoubtedly one of the hottest smuts I’ve ever read, featuring lush prose, unapologetic, dub-con/non-con elements and an interesting take on “dark slutty Harry”. tl;dr: mind the tags; stay hydrated 💦🍆

breaking in through open doors | T, 1.4k | Brooding_Aunt

A unique, haunting read that is perfect for spooky seasons. Horror masterpiece. Goosebumps guaranteed. I won’t spoiler much but I urge you to give emo girl Harry a go (it makes a terrifying lot of sense in the context of the storytelling, I swear), and let her narrative haunt you.

Thirst | E, 27k | @obsidianpen

(Sexy) mind games with Horcrux!Tom …. Will he be motivated enough to let Harry out of the Lestrange Vault before Voldemort arrives? Another dark, chilling fic in which both Harry and Tom have their own weaknesses that the other seeks to explore, and hopefully to take advantage of, as they grapple for survival.

Memento Mori | E, 49k | @purplewitch156

Every time Harry dies, instead of boarding the train that will take him to the Afterlife, to his family, he chooses to return to the living world with Tom, who is unable go on. Four Lives, two idiots, one love story. There’s humour, there’s action, heartwarming moments and heartbreaking ones … basically, be prepared for all the feels that will take forever to recover from.

Wake From a Dream | T, 2.6k | @duplicitywrites

Cats and domestic tomarry (I am so ridiculously weak for this). Duplicity’s writing is gorgeous in that, within a smallish word count, we are given a glimpse of something profound, something vulnerable, subtly tucked into the lovely little interactions and the intimacy Harry and Tom share.

Hmm | G, 6.4k | Wolven_Spirits

‘Harry is a hummingbird animagus. Tom opens a flower shop just to attract his attention.’ That’s the fic summary – need I say more🥺?? There’s something so gentle and evocative (but also undeniably Slytherin) about Tom’s decision to devote himself to his flowers, to creating a safe space for Harry. Florist!Tom supremacy, is what I’m saying.

Man Down | T, 5k | @classlesstulip

It’s tagged as Mafia AU, but in all honesty this fic is, I must say, ‘Ghibli in gangster’s suit’ (affectionate). It’s hilarious (I genuinely laughed out loud quite a few times throughout the story), super adorable, and everything that makes a lovely pick-me-up fic.

What Happens In Vegas | E, 14k | @dividawrites

Sexy, decadent and intrinsically tomarry, this fic became an instant fave a few paragraphs in. Tom is super chaotic and his characterisation is perhaps one of the best I’ve ever read. Featuring a delicious age difference, thirsty brat Harry, DADA Professor Riddle (yes please) and size kink hello🥵 – all that executed through Divida’s sharp, witty writer’s voice! Really, Vegas is the ultimate dream.

#tomarry #tom riddle #harry potter #tomarry fanfiction #tom/harry #tomarry recs #hp fic rec #tomarry fic #tomarry au #opal's library

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celestialastronmy · 2 months

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Here we go, I wanted to speak about one of my favorite redemption arcs in video game history

This is one of the most compelling games, where we get to witness an extraordinary transformation that's as heart-tugging as it is inspiring. Let's delve into the life of Lee Everett - the convicted murderer who rose like a phoenix from the ashes of his past to become a father figure to young Clementine. This is the story of a man who found redemption in the unlikeliest of places, making us feel for him, root for him, and connect with him in a way few characters have managed to do before.

In the dystopian world that is now Lee and Clementine's home, redemption isn't as simple as saying sorry. It's a long, winding road of self-discovery and growth. Our journey starts with Lee in the back of a police car, his past marred by a crime of passion and his future looking anything but bright. But hold on, here's where things take an exciting turn. The zombie apocalypse, terrifying as it may be, offers Lee a chance to start afresh, to build a new identity that's more than his past mistakes.

The crux of Lee's redemption arc is his relationship with Clementine. This isn't a forced bond but one that grows and evolves naturally, giving us a heart-rending look into guilt, responsibility, and the potential for change. From the moment he meets Clementine, Lee becomes her guardian angel. Guided by her innocence and her faith in him, he vows to protect her, a promise that helps him make amends for his past in a way nothing else could.

As we move further into the story, we see Lee's paternal instincts come to the fore. He teaches Clementine how to survive in this harsh new world, helping her become a fighter, and in doing so, he proves his commitment to her well-being. These moments mark his transformation from a convicted criminal to a protective guardian.

Lee's redemption is a masterful narrative device. It's not flashy or over-the-top. It's subtle, profound, and incredibly moving. His redemption comes not from a grand declaration of change, but from small, everyday actions that demonstrate his evolution. It's not about forgetting his past but about his dedication to Clementine's survival.

The real genius in Lee's redemption arc is its setting. The zombie apocalypse, for all its horror, offers Lee a chance at redemption that he could never find in the pre-apocalyptic world. It frees him from the labels society had slapped on him, allowing him to redefine himself as a protector, a mentor, and a father figure.

The final episode of the game is the perfect culmination of Lee's redemption arc. On the brink of turning into a zombie, his last act is to ensure Clementine's safety. He guides her through handcuffing him, ensuring he won't be a threat once he turns. It's his ultimate act of redemption - a man once punished for taking a life now willingly gives up his own to save another.

So there you have it - the redemption arc of Lee in Twdg, a narrative so immersive it sucks you right in. It's a testament to the transformative power of relationships and the potential for change, even in the direst of situations. Lee's bond with Clementine redeems him, not by erasing his past but by allowing him to shape a different future. In the end, Lee Everett is remembered not as a convicted criminal but as a father, a protector, and a teacher. His redemption arc is a beacon of hope - a reminder that even in a world overrun by the dead, there's room for humanity and goodness to flourish.

#lee everett #clementine #twdg #i love them both #redemption arc #character analysis

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darksaiyangoku · 8 months

Text

RWBY x DMC: Legacy

Dante and Vergil clashed their swords fiercely. Dante's sword burned gold, while Vergil's sword shone silver. On the ground, battered and beaten were their family; Nora Valkyrie, Neptune Vasilias, Sun Wukong, Pyrrha Nikos, Oscar Pine, Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna. The only ones who were unscathed were tied up by brambles; Lie Ren, Yang Ren and their mother, Ruby Rose-Arc.

Sun: *coughs* They're brothers. So why are they... fighting?

Blake: To see one's justice through, a man must fight for it. *coughs* Even if the one who stands before him is his kin.

Weiss: *pants* Th-That's ridiculous.

Blake: The brothers of blood disagree. On the very reason of their existence. They... must... fight..

Dante: *pants* I didn't think you'd stoop this low, Vergil. Attacking our family? You've gone too far.

Vergil: Family is a distraction. Our guard was down and now look at Remnant. Back in the hands of the Demons. *scoffs* Family weakens us. You should know that by now.

Dante: It ends here Vergil. *grips Amaterasu with both hands*

Vergil: You've been saying that for the last 4 years, you could never beat me. *smirks* Though let me make it easier for you. *stabs Tsukiyomi into the ground* You have one shof. Kill me right here and now. Go on. Do it. If you're that determined to stop me, then pierce my heart.

Dante: *powers up Amaterasu* Gladly. *breathes in* Goodbye, brother. YAAAAAAH!!!

Ruby watched in horror as she witnessed Dante charge towards Vergil. Her two boys, who brought her joy, were now ready to kill each other. Her eyes filled with tears. She remembered when they took their first steps, when they said their first words, when they crawled into her room after having nightmares, their first day at Beacon and Haven and their first mission together. Through her sobbing, she sang a song. The lullaby she sang to them many years ago.

Ruby: 🎶When those voices deep within bring you down to your knees again. Redemption calls onto all of those who persist with the strength of the few.🎶

Dante: Drive 1!

Ruby: 🎶Don't come to question all that you've known. Remember, you are not alone. I will be here, standing beside you.🎶

Dante: Angelic Flames! Amaterasu!

Ruby: 🎶There is no mountain too tall to overcome. We will be as one. You will rise again... This is your legacy!🎶

Dante was about to thrust his sword directly into Vergil's chest, ending his wrath once and for all.

SHOOM!!!

Suddenly, a pillar of light burst from the sky and knocked the twins back. When the dust settled, Dante and Vergil's jaws dropped. Standing between them was their father, Jaune Arc, adorned in white armour and with golden yellow wings.

Dante/Vergil: Dad!

Jaune: *sighs* You two sure love to make a mess, don't you?

Vergil: Stay out of this, old man. This is between me and Dante.

Jaune: Not gonna happen. Remnant's out there burning and here you two are fighting like children.

Dante: *stands up* He forced my hand. He attacked all our family.

Vergil: They were in the way in my pursuit of power. I told Dante this already, if you want to stop me, then kill me.

Jaune: I'm not gonna kill you... *clenches fists* but I can't promise not to break every bone in your body.

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innocentimouto · 8 months

Note

Do you think the show/franchise should acknowledge that Jet Is one of Iroh’s victims?

Do you mean because the Rough Rhinos were under Iroh's command (or at least their leader was)?

At first I thought no, just because the show moved on from Iroh's flaws and never gave us anything in terms of his victims. I don't see them doing it, let alone doing it right. Also Jet would get even more hate.

But say they could do it right. Then yes, it would be incredible. Even if Jet still died, so long as it was made clear to characters like the Gaang or Zuko and Iroh that he was one of Iroh's victims, I would be happy.

Whatever opinions there are about Jet's actions in war, he did something. He was resourceful and strong; he could have fled somewhere else or survived on his own (however long that would last considering the war). But he chose to help others.

Iroh never did that. I don't think Iroh helped Zuko either, but say he did. One, that's not great when Zuko was invading Sokka and Katara's home or when capturing the avatar. Two, Iroh still never helped anyone in the war against the Fire Nation until the very end.

It makes sense for a character like Jet to be the one to hate Iroh and make it clear that just because the man is elderly and kind doesn't mean he didn't do horrible things in war and then became content with doing nothing to fix it.

It even fits within the storyline. They met on the way to BSS. Zuko's arc needs to go somewhere. Iroh's arc has been stagnant for a while. Jet's trauma hasn't been properly conveyed. Having Jet bring up what Iroh has done, in detail, possibly with victims from Iroh's siege against BSS, would be a great way to force Iroh to be confronted with his actions and forced to give his thoughts on it.

Does he care? Does he care beyond feeling remorse? Has he ever thought about helping people against the Fire Nation?

It also helps Zuko's arc. He's still on the Fire Nation's side, but he's seen the other nations are just regular people. Would having Iroh state whatever his views are on this affect Zuko? If Iroh just brushed it all away with a small shake of the head and some words about letting anger go, would that make Zuko uncomfortable? Because now he has faces to possible victims. And Jet is great with words and can definitely hurt people with them, so I doubt he would stay quiet at whatever Iroh would say.

Or would Zuko simply not care and side with Iroh because he's always known what Iroh had done? Zuko burned a village down himself. Only thing he's done lately is complain about poverty.

It could go either way for them, but I think things would be clear with the Gaang. If confronted with Jet's words, and neither Zuko nor Iroh care or offer much in return, I don't think the Gaang would be that receptive to accepting Zuko later.

The Gaang has never heard Zuko say the Fire Nation propaganda he was fed all his life. I doubt they would forget it if he somehow justified the Air Nomads being massacred. I doubt Sokka, Aang, or Katara would be okay if he justified waterbenders being killed.

Calling someone a peasant or trying to kill them is one thing, but hearing someone explain to you why your people were wiped out and that it was right is not something most people will forget.

(Also we can get development with Toph and her thoughts on the war. And Suki wouldn't get her words about her village being destroyed turned into a joke. Also Haru, because fellow earth kingdom kid who most likely heard terrifying tales of the Dragon of the West.)

And seeing their reactions---horror, grief, rage, pain---no matter how behind Zuko could be on his arc, that would stay with him. He's a teenager. He's hotheaded and selfish and entitled. But he's not a monster. He feels emotions. And while I disagree strongly that he had a good redemption arc, by BSS, he at least had some doubts about some things.

It's an established way to bring Iroh's character back to morally flawed, which is good. Too many things are canon for Iroh to be anything better than that. He learned firebending from the dragons, but still continued killing innocent people? He stood by while Zuko got burned? He let Ozai take the throne without ever challenging him despite being the rightful heir and supposedly realizing the war was wrong?

Iroh had the best chance to at least slow the Fire Nation before Aang appeared. The thing about Iroh is that he's always been content to sit back and not do anything. He wanted Zuko to make tea with him within the walls while the war was coming to a close and we're expected to believe he cares about the wellbeing of other nations? About the war itself? Iroh was one of the strongest firebenders in the world. He had a responsibility to at least atone for the deaths he caused, if not outright confront Ozai.

If you meant that Jet got brainwashed because of Iroh and then eventually killed?

I don't really blame Iroh for Jet's death. I strongly side-eye Iroh for acting completely innocent about what Jet was rightfully saying despite Iroh supposedly regretful for his actions in the war and yet not caring at all that he got an innocent kid arrested by police that everyone knew were capable of making people disappear.

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madrigaljail · 2 months

Text

Interlude

Would you like some celebrity AU in these trying times? Have some nonsense; don't worry about Eli, he's an OC, it's fine.

“Finally tonight, my producers won’t let me end the show without discussing the most compelling story in the nation, a tale of intergenerational drama which begs the question: which speaks to you most? Do you like a redemption arc, recognition coming after decades of struggle? Or a reward for raw, young talent the likes of which has never before been seen? These questions will possibly be answered Sunday night, when the Emmy Awards give a trophy to…a Best Supporting Actor in a Drama.

“On the one hand you have Bruno Madrigal, whose offscreen exploits have overshadowed his work for decades. In recent years, however, he’s become beloved by children as the voice of Hernando the Crab in the animated Shore Thing film series and attracted critical acclaim in indie films such as The Collaboration and onstage in an off-Broadway revival of Endgame. Now he’s nominated for his role as Oscar Ramos, a pedicab driver with a secret in AMC’s thriller Upper West.

“Then there’s his nephew, Camilo Madrigal, who has veered away from the music careers of his mother and sister to follow - cautiously, we hope - in his uncle’s acting footsteps. He has more than a knack for it, given his star turn as nine different characters…or maybe it’s the same one in different phases, who knows what’s happening on Max’s scifi-horror hit Idle Hands? My nephew’s tried to explain it several times, but I’ve given up figuring it out.

“So, where do you fall: Team Camilo, or Team Bruno? Personally I think we as a society should have moved past these hashtag labels a long time ago, but if I were a betting man? I’d say the Madrigals are going to split the voters and we’ll get the winner we deserve, the venerable J.K. Simmons.

“That’s it for me this evening, stay tuned for the latest headlines on ‘Nightbeat’, and I’ll see you back here bright and early Sunday morning for ‘Mas with Guzmán’. Buenos noches.”

The news program theme music played, and Bruno would have continued mindlessly playing Candy Crush on his phone but-

“You know there’s a rumor you slept with that guy.”

Bruno glanced to his right. Eli was slumped the corner of the couch, smirking, light brown hair tousled and hazel eyes glancing his way with a mischievous twinkle. Bruno scowled.

“You don’t- that’s ridiculous. I can’t help it if people think we had chemistry or there were ‘sparks flying’ in that interview or whatever, but it’s all…fanflick?”

Eli laughed and gently kicked his shin, he retaliated by pinching his knee. “Fanfic, boomer.”

“Everybody really does forget about Gen X,” Bruno muttered, then shook his head. “Anyway. The point is I can’t believe people still think Pulitzer prize winning reporter José Guzmán would risk his journalistic integrity by hooking up with me.”

“Depends.” Eli straightened up to lean closer, waggling his eyebrows. “Is ‘journalistic integrity’ what he calls his-”

“Guys! I’m still right here!”

They both cringed and glanced over the back of the sofa towards the kitchen, where Mirabel had taken over the island in a flurry of embroidery floss. She’d swiveled around on the barstool to give them a glare, but a smile still tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry, Mira.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Thank you.” A moment or two slipped by, a perfect pause, before she went on. “But you totally did hook up with him, right?”

Bruno blinked, turned back to the TV, and picked up the remote. “I am changing the channel. It’s a metaphor for changing the subject.”

Shortly after that Mirabel presented him with a baseball cap emblazoned with “#TeamCamilo”, and a black necktie which she’d decorated with symbols representing all of the Madrigal family…and a blue, pink, and white striped heart for Eli. Bruno happily wore both on the Emmys red carpet two nights later.

A/N: he did totally hook up with him. Celebverse!José is basically Anderson Cooper. Yes he does get stuck doing New Year's Eve with Andy Cohen still, it's fine. As for who wins the Emmy, it's been almost two years and I am still not sure.

#encanto celebrity au #a perfect constellation

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polutrope · 3 months

Note

Celegorm and Curufin - For CHARACTER ASK GAME - 2, 3, 7, 8, 20, 21 and 22

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Celegorm: Fairytale prince with talking dog careens into villain arc. What??

Curufin: "But Curufin smiled." Also that Shibboleth footnote about him being a nerd about Dwarven languages.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Celegorm: Fairytale prince with talking dog careens into villain arc. What??

Curufin: Apparently inherited his father's skill but never crafted shit worth mentioning.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Celegorm: Silver hair.

Curufin: Daddy issues.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise do not like?

Celegorm: making him stupid.

Curufin: making him a good dad. I'M SORRY.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Oof, I don't want to wish these guys upon anyone but let's see...

Celegorm: Finrod. Hear me out. I think Finrod could have been the tempering influence Celegorm needed, and Celegorm the wildness Finrod needed. Go read Mercy by @cuarthol.

Curufin: Telchar. Just let him hang out with Dwarves and stay out of trouble.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Celegorm: I like showing through his POV that he's smarter and more dangerous than most people around him think. Nothing I don't like, he's surprisingly enjoyable to write even though he's awful.

Curufin: He's such a MESS. He's such an unreliable narrator about himself. He's so repressed. Once I got a handle on these aspects of him I'm so intrigued by his character. I don't know what I don't like... I guess that he can be a challenging character to portray both canonically and sympathetically.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

Celegorm: Whatever @sallysavestheday is doing. Making me care about him while simultaneously being scared of him. Opening up his twisted mind and making me -- to my horror -- understand what's happening there.

Curufin: Honestly, I like it when an author fully leans in to what an angry, sad, sick person he is/becomes. So far past redemption, but in a tragic way.

Thank you for the ask! Character ask game.

#celegorm #curufin #anon #asks #character ask game

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thepaintedlady00 · 7 months

Text

Nepenthe

Character Intro | Chapter 2

Chapter One: The Hanged Man

TW: blood, gore, some very intrusive and vividly dark thoughts about murder killing and so on, this ones gonna be a dark fic so if that's not something you're into steer clear y'all! But, all in all, first chapters pretty tame for the Dark Urge character. I'm going with a Durge that slightly differs from game Durge as she always has a hesitancy to killing and actively "fights" her dark urges from the start which isn't how I feel the in-game character was potrayed, but it's how I wanna do this series so 🤷‍♀️, I also really wanna let everyone know I'll be taking some creative liberties with the story and I'll be making the villains a bit more "redeemable" (mostly Gortash) they'll all still be the villains and they'll still do the evil shit but with Gortash in particular I wanna add some hints of regret and remorse for his wrong doings so I can give the asshole a happy ending! Because I am a whore for redemption arcs and happy endings! 😅😂

nepenthe • \nuh-PENTH-ee\ • noun. 1: a potion used by the ancients to induce forgetfulness of pain or sorrow; 2: something capable of causing oblivion of grief or suffering.

I had been called many names. Thief. Urchin. Whore. Murderer. Assassin. Monster. Demon. They all held some modicum of truth; after all, how else was one such as myself supposed to live? I bore no family name and held no lands or titles. All I had was a dagger and the blood on my hands. All I had to guide my path… To help me understand who… What I was was but an ember. A word whispered on hushed, fearful tongues.

Bhaalspawn.

It was a myth. Some horror story told by parents to keep their children in line. I knew there could be no truth in it… knew there could be no chance of it being a reality. I'd hunted down every piece of evidence I could over the years, and all of it told the same story. The spawn of Bhaal were long dead - all of them.

I could not be this. And yet the word echoed in me, rattling against my skull almost as loudly as the call for blood. And so, I continued hunting this rumor to the ends of Faerun. Hunting and hoping and killing and running. It was a hideous, pathetic life, but it was all I had. All I'd ever have if I stopped searching now.

Most would find the prospect of being some murderous creature horrifying. Most would have stopped searching when it became possible, but they didn't have this hunger. They didn't feel their skull burning, their whole being screaming for blood. They weren't like me.

From my rooftop perch above the city, I watched the people live their boring little lives. The marketplace was full of bodies, bags of flesh and bones and blood, hurrying and shouting and laughing without a care in the world. Sheep. A pen of them, mindlessly baaing to one another, completely unaware of the wolf lurking above them.

How I longed to leap down from that roof, to slither in what shadows I could find and circle them. My mouth went dry as my heart began to race in my chest. All sound faded, replaced by the symphony of rushing blood and beating hearts. I'd pick the one furthest from the group, the blacksmith. He smelt of salt and metal, a large man with a round belly that was practically begging to be sliced open. The edges of my vision darkened as I stared into the forge. He looked strong, but he'd be slow - much slower than he'd need to be to kill me before I did him. It would be easy.

My body drifted forward, leaning over the ledge of the rooftop. Every inch of me hummed as my fingers wrapped around the hilt of my dagger. So easy… Giggling children broke me from the dark fog. They ran through the streets together, playing whatever games normal little children play, as their families watched with a bright look. I'd studied that look often, how they smiled and their faces creased with joy. It was a look I had never known.

I remembered then the simple house with the green door. I remembered how it looked splattered with their blood - blood that oozed between the floorboards and dripped down the steps. The humming of bloodlust ebbed inside me as I pictured the bodies that littered the cobbled path to the house. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, not a spark of that bright thing… Not a spark of anything. The last one still breathing had crawled back inside, not strong enough to run but still not weak enough to just lay and die.

When I'd followed after her, dagger in hand and blood dripping from me like rain, she'd looked at me with a dark expression. Disappointment mingled with fear and disgust. That was the look I knew, the one she'd always looked at me with. As I got closer, the woman who called herself my mother spat her blood at me and growled out one last word before I watched her bleed out, "Monster."

That house - my house - had been the first. The first time, I'd let the hunger, the insatiable thoughts of bloodshed, win. The family I massacred that day had been my own, but I never regretted killing them, not for one moment that followed. They'd only been the first of many… Too many.

My rancid blood whispered to me: kill, kill, and kill again. This body of mine craved only death. Not my own, but that of others - everyone. In the beginning, I'd hoped it would fade, yet with each death, each lifeless body I left behind, the hunger only grew. The longing to kill again was never far from my mind, and it terrified me.

What kind of person… What sort of thing had this urge? A dark, twisted urge so powerful it consumed me, possessed me until I satisfied it with the blood and death it craved. My lungs filled with the cool city air, and the blurred edges of my vision slowly faded, replaced by the pain at the base of my skull growing as the urge festered, unsatisfied.

A heavy sigh echoed beside me as the rooftop shingles shifted under the unpredictable steps. "Restless already, young Master?"

"I just…" My mouth tasted rancid, the intrusive desire to snap my teeth down on my own tongue making the words difficult to get out.

"Which of the lovely little sheep calls to you this time?" He hummed, turning his head to look out into the crowd with an almost gleeful smile. "The baker?" He giggled, jumping in excitement. "No! The shopkeep! He looks like he'd make a particularly fascinating corpse!" Turning, his beady eyes bore into mine again as he examined my expression. "Not him either? One of the children, perhaps?"

"No!" I bit out, trying not to linger on how that prospect appealed to me. "The blacksmith."

The Butler turned his head eagerly and wiggled his fingers, clacking his claws against the shingles. "Oh, excellent! He'll be no match for you, my dear Master. So big and slow, with a copious amount of blood and viscera to work with. A most excellent choice indeed!"

My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides as I forced my lungs to fill with the fresh air. "I'm not killing him. I'm not killing anyone."

"Not this again," The Butler chided. "Young Master, you must–"

"You do not tell me what I must or mustn't do!" My voice was low but a whisper in the wind, but Sceleritas heard it. He heard it as though I'd screamed it at the top of my lungs. For a fleeting second, it looked as though he'd been hurt by my words and my dismissal of him. With a sigh, I shook my head and knelt beside him. "Sceleritas…"

He made a tsking noise and combed his claws through my hair, delicately brushing it back into place. "I live to serve you, young Master. Whether it leads to glorious blood and viscera or not, I live to serve."

I held his hand for a moment. "Thank you."

"I do wish you'd be true to yourself," he said carefully. "But, if you wish to fight your urge, I'll bite my tongue and let you make your own mistakes."

"Sceleritas," I scolded with a half smile.

He quickly shut his lips tightly and bowed. "Since we're not killing anyone, may I inquire as to what we're doing among the sheep?"

Rolling my eyes at his theatrics, I looked back out to the crowd. "Rumor has it this city has been plagued with worshippers of Bhaal. People -" Sceleritas gave me a confused look. "The sheep," I clarified, earning a toothy grin from him. "Are saying there's an old temple somewhere nearby."

"And you intend to find it?" He asked, pride and mischief filling his tone.

"If anyone will have answers for me, it'll be them." I looked down at the odd little goblin-like creature that had been by my side since I first woke, covered in blood. He had leathery skin and a small hat lined with the bones of a snake I'd killed. He kept his clothes neat, even amongst the blood. Sceleritas was still quite the mystery, and everything about him, right down to how his beady eyes watched me with that sparkle of darkness and his claws clicked together as he idly thrummed his fingers together, making it seem like he knew more than he let on. "Unless you, dear butler, know anything about this temple?"

His hands splayed across his chest as his mouth fell open in surprise. "Why, me? Young Master, I've been ever at your side! I know only what you do."

Narrowing my eyes, I watched his lips turn upward in a grin. "Hmm, we'll see."

"Enough chatter!" He plopped down on the rooftop, kicking his feet over the ledge. "You hurry on with your questioning. I'll be waiting right here when you're done."

"I'll be back before nightfall," I assured him, lifting my hood.

"Of course you will. Unless… perhaps, you find a worthwhile distraction," he said, eyes turning away from mine to stare down at the blacksmith, whose full belly jiggled as he laughed.

That longing hum… That dark urge made my head swim for a moment. Kill him, it demanded. Break his bones! Bathe in his blood! Take his life, for it is yours to take! I shook my head and quickly turned away. "I will be back before nightfall."

"As you say, dear Master."

I dropped into a dark alley, my ill-fitted boots doing little to save my knees from feeling the force of the ground solidly meeting my feet. The alley stank with piss and rotting food, a stench that hung over the poorer districts. It was stripped bare of the fragrant roses and perfumers of the upper city. Stripped of everything, with people still demanding more be taken in the name of their lords and ladies and their fine parties and expensive silks.

Baldur's Gate. A beacon of hope and second chances. So many poured through the city gates with those big eyes, spilling with joy and relief, and it would be those eyes I'd see months later devoid of all that sparkle. Joy is a difficult thing to nurture when you're starving and flea-ridden. Baldur's Gate. The city where any and all are welcome to live and create a new life for themselves. A lie.

As I stepped over the multitude of beggars that no longer whispered pleas my way or anyone else's, I held onto that bitter feeling that had festered since I'd stepped foot here. My hands bore the blood of thousands, innocent and guilty alike, but even I was above the cruelty of this city. I was a killer, to be sure, but this city… The cursed Baldur's Gate was just as much a killer as me. At least I didn't pretend to be something else.

I moved among the crowd, ignoring that tingle that sent shivers up my spine at the sight of so many opportunities to slit someone's throat or tear their stomach open. Keeping my head down and my hood high, I kept my feet steadily moving. "You hear about this, uh… Shipment… That arrived late last night?"

"Which one?" The butcher replied, trying not to seem so interested. I slowed, lifting an eye towards them as they stood beneath the canopy of the butcher's stall.

"The metals," the twitchy man continued. "The ones that went straight to that abandoned church."

In one quick slash, the butcher's blade buried into the wooden board before him, slicing clean through the thick red meat. "What 'bout it?"

The twitchy man scratched his neck. "Rumor has it one of the smugglers is a madman. Er'yone that's seen 'im says he's makin' some kinda beast."

"A beast 'O metal?" The butcher laughed, waving off the man with a slab of meat in his hand. "Yer nutty if you believe that! Now get out me stall! Scarin' away payin' folk with yer twitchin'."

I watched them bicker for a moment longer before the twitching little man scurried away. Gossip and rumors were prevalent on the streets, necessary for anyone with no money to their name. Information was just as valuable as gold, but using such currency often required more than one's word. Proof came in various shapes and sizes. Eyewitness, a crumb of physical evidence, or even mentioning names… People higher up on the social ladder than anyone dwelling here. This system served me well. Though plagued by the constant urge to maim and dismember, my mind held information like a vault.

As I walked the streets, it quickly became apparent the well of gossip revolved around some useless arms dealings. I half listened, filing their names and the vague details away in my head while changing my path. If I wanted more than the current babblings today, I'd need to go to the source.

Baldur's Gate held many rivers that information flowed through. The servants working in the Upper City would flow down from those rich establishments and find whatever little pocket of people they belonged to. Taverns, inns, brothels, all little wells collecting information like buckets. Wells that I found most useful in my hunt for the truth. Past the layers of boring city gossip of who fucked who or who wore what lay the drops I required - the drops that would finally satiate my thirst. It was a simple matter of extracting such.

The Elfsong Tavern was bustling with people and flowing with drinks. It was a gem of the Lower City, though its outward appearance did not reflect anything grand or unique. It had ale and wine and clean rooms, which was enough for most people. The chatter that met my ears was akin to that of insects. I brushed past everyone else and quietly stood beside the bar, waiting for a cleaning to speak with the elf behind it.

The barkeeper and owner of the tavern was a soft-faced half-elf, Alan Alyth. He had dark hair and light in his eyes, still hopeful of his future within this city. Unlike the other patrons, he heard everything and saw all, and he wouldn't waste my time with idle chatter. Alan knew nothing about me, but he knew how much I hated talking.

Our eyes locked as the bodies cleared away from him, and he sighed. "What can I get for you?"

"I heard a rumor about Bhaal worshippers and a ruined temple."

Nodding, the elf wiped up a spill. "Few nights ago, two men came in spouting about it."

I set a single coin down on the bar. "I need the details."

Alan examined me for a second but took the coin and continued to speak, "Dunno much, but they said they believed the entrance to this temple or whatever was somewhere near the docks."

Without a word of thanks, I turned and exited the establishment, my feet moving quickly and my heart pounding steadily in my chest. I longed for this to be the one - for this rumor to lead me somewhere. The docks were even busier than the tavern, with shipments coming in and out, people selling fish right out of the barrels, and captains and crews inspecting their vessels.

I could catch a ride on one of the ships, I thought. It would be easier to sail away from this horrible city and find a secluded place to live the rest of my days alone. Still, the nagging feeling wouldn't go away no matter how far I sailed. I would still always wonder what I was… If I belonged anywhere.

I remained near the docks, listening, watching, and even searching for hidden doors or loose stones that could have contained a clue, a hint even. There was nothing. No talk of Bhaalists or odd symbols. Nothing but the stench of fish and the annoying voices of the sheep. As the sun set, it became increasingly clear that this had been another dead end.

Waste of time, I scowled as I walked the now clear paths of the dark city. It'd been foolish of me to believe that anyone would have anything of substance. Why would idle gossip lead me to some long-lost hidden temple? It was foolish. Hopeful.

My body roared with disappointment and anger. The feeling of it made my skin itch and my limbs ache. Curse that damned hope, I thought as I neared the rooftop where the butler would be waiting. I felt more breathless with each step, a sickening feeling washing over me as the edges of my vision swam with shadows.

Don't fight it, that dark part of me urged. The bellows of nearby fire sparked in my ears, accompanied by the clash of steel. I sucked in a deep breath, halting my steps to try and regain control of my thoughts - of my own hands as they shook. Give in. A tang of ash and a tingling of metal filled my mouth. Give in to yourself. I stumbled, my feet shuffling of their own accord away from the rooftop towards the hazed orange light.

Kill.

My fingers curled around the hilt of my dagger.

Kill.

My body hummed as the heat of the fire washed over my face.

Kill.

My lips curled up in a happy, satisfied smile.

The stone ceiling of the blacksmith's workshop was coated in billows of dark smoke and embers. They danced along the top of it for a moment, sparkling and crackling before being swept up in the midnight breeze and lifted out the tall open windows. My chest heaved with each breath, the air tasting sweet as I drew it deep into my lungs. I felt lightheaded, exhilarated, and satisfied. My mind felt clear for the first time in weeks, and my skull didn't throb.

The sensation of thick, sticky liquid rolling down my neck pulled me from the enjoyment and relief. I lifted my hands to touch it but found them to be wet. All at once, my mind became my own again, and the sweetness of the air suddenly became heavy with blood. My fingernails dug into the skin of my neck as quiet whimpers filled my throat.

"Oh, how inspired!" Sceleritas purred with gleeful claps. "Artistry as always, my dear Master!"

My neck strained as I lowered my eyes to the corpse I straddled. The blacksmith lay lifeless beneath me, utterly unrecognizable. His eyes, filled with playful mirth and pride this morning, were now raw pits of exposed blood and muscle. The dark hair that once filled his head was scorched off, still smoking and singed with embers. One of his arms had been torn off, hanging from his anvil where the hand had been bludgeoned until the bones turned to dust. Long, intricate cuts lined his remaining arm and torso, leading to the gaping hole in his stomach. His insides were strewn about the room, hanging like dripping vines. And there, plunged into one of the many stab wounds in his chest, my dagger gleamed in the firelight.

I wanted to throw up, to scream and deny, but all I could do was sit there and stare. A prideful feeling simmered in my gut, finding beauty in the gore surrounding me. It was wrong… Beyond wrong… It was demented, deranged, sickening. Yet the feeling remained just like it always did. Sceleritas dug my dagger out from the blacksmith's chest and smiled as he held it out to me with a bow. Then, he noticed my grip on my neck and quickly tutted.

He placed my dagger back in my sheath and gently pried my hands from my skin. He dabbed the angry welts left by my fingernails with a small cloth. "I'm a monster…" I whispered.

Sceleritas' claws poked my cheek as he forced me to look at him. "You are perfect, Master." He combed his fingers through my hair, tucking it from my face. "Absolutely, positively perfect."

I closed my eyes, fighting back tears as the surrounding houses awoke, likely coming to see what the noises had been. They'd come, they always did, and they'd find me covered in the blood of an innocent man, a friend even. From there, things would be exactly as they always were. I'd be forced to flee, vanish, and always be apart like the rest of the monsters.

"Come, we must go," Sceleritas whispered, moving to check the streets.

With quivering breaths, I blinked away tears. What was the point of fighting if the urge would win out eventually? What was the point of any of this fucking life? Pushing myself to my feet, I wiped my hands on my shirt, as if it'd help clean them of blood, before turning to follow Sceleritas when a blink of movement caught my eye.

There, standing in the doorway to the home attached to the workshop. His eyes were fixed on the body, the guts that hung from the room, filled with fear and despair at the sight of the larger man's lifelessness. Guilt and disgust warred within me against the satisfied bloodlust and pride. The child's lips quivered as tears began to stream down his cheeks. "Pa…"

Sceleritas' hands gently wound around my arms, tugging me away from the pitiful scene I had orchestrated. "Away, young Master. Come away."

The streets blurred together as I followed Sceleritas' sure-footed steps. I could hear the angry shouts and the calls for justice as the sheep turned to wolves. Tears burned my eyes as I considered stopping and submitting to my fate. I deserved it. I deserved to be torn apart just like I'd torn the blacksmith apart or any of the others before him. I was a monster.

Sceleritas turned then and slid to a halt just beneath an old archway. He scrambled, clawing the debris and dirt away from the small sewer cover. "This way!" He hissed. "We will find safety with the others!"

"With the others?"

"The worshippers of the Lord of Murder, of course!"

"You knew where it was from the start," I bit out, glaring at the creature.

"We haven't the time for this conversation, Master. Quickly! Come!" He screeched, desperately waving me towards the sewer entrance.

The ground shook with the rushing footsteps of the mob, a thundering anger filling the air like lightning. Grinding my teeth together, I slid through the small, dark opening and landed in the muck. The butler followed close behind, closing the opening just as quickly as he'd uncovered it. I could see the shadows of the mob pass overhead.

Sloshing through the putrid liquid, Sceleritas kept moving forward. I glared at him, using my anger to ignore how the smell burnt my nose and threatened to choke the air from my lungs. "Where are we going?"

He turned, teeth glistening in the low light. "You wished to find the temple, did you not?"

I followed him a few feet forward, watching as he flicked his clawed fingers, and an array of resting magic forced the stones ahead to part, revealing the ruins behind it. Sceleritas bowed, gesturing towards the opening. "After you, young Master."

The dark path forward appeared to be part of the city once, blocked off and locked away… Left to crumble and decay. The air hung heavy with a feeling of hopelessness, death whispers filling every crack and corridor. I followed what paths I could, weaving past fallen stone and broken statues. What had it looked like in its prime? I wondered as we passed through one intact doorway.

Stones shifted beneath quick feet, alerting me to the presence of others surrounding me. The darkness had eyes that watched me as I continued to the second door. If whatever creatures took issue with my presence, they didn't make it known. I could feel Sceleritas' excitement. "Friends of yours?"

"Friends of yours, Master," he replied. "Soon to be subjects if all goes to plan."

I turned my head to glance at him, so many questions wanting to rise from my throat, but none of them could. How many years have you led me astray? I wondered. How long was spent pulling at my strings for this plan?

A shallow river of sewage split the large room in two, forcing me down the right-hand path that looked to have been patched up with wood scraps. Whoever it was that had taken up residence here had clearly put work into trying to remain inconspicuous. The twists and turns should have confused me, but my feet felt steady… Like I already knew the way.

As I stepped out into a larger clearing, the stench of sewage faded slightly. Water trickled from cracks above, and the ruins grew more solid. "This was the Undercity," I observed, peering up the old stairs that had long been barricaded off.

Sceleritas stood beside a circular platform, flicking his fingers again and lighting two hanging braziers. "A wretched place." He hummed carefully. "But, like most ruins, it wasn't always such." Waving his hand, I could see a marvel in his eyes. "It was a glorious temple once. A place of the highest caliber! Worshipers would come from near and far to pay homage, and many found a home here."

"What happened?" I asked, a wave of solemn sorrow softening my voice.

Sceleritas shook his head with a bitter sneer on his lips. "Many things. The worshipers of Bhaal have been culled many times throughout the ages."

"Like the Bhaalspawn." I shook my head and looked at the butler with teary eyes. "Is that what I am?"

"You are-"

"Perfect," I interrupted him. "I know, you've said that before. But answer me this, please, Sceleritas?"

With a humble nod, he finally replied. "You are one of the last living Bhaalspawn. The Lord of Murder's flesh and blood."

My teeth ground together. All this time I'd spent searching, looking for answers, and the one person that had been with me from the start had them all along. "Why not tell me this from the start?"

"You were not ready then," he replied with a sigh. "You may still not be ready."

"Well, what happens now?" I asked.

Sceleritas only grinned. "You open the door."

The tall door blended in with the surrounding stone, only really noticeable but the too-perfect cracks where the two sides met, tightly sealed. As I approached, I had an itching feeling that this would not be as simple as my loyal companion made it seem. Pressing on them with my hand, nothing moved, but a voice echoed around us in a soft but powerful whisper.

"Do you have proof of your faith to our lord?"

"Proof?" I questioned with furrowed brows. "How does one present proof of faith?"

Sceleritas cleared his throat and pointed to my still-bloody dagger. "You've all the proof you need, dear Master."

I unsheathed it, grimacing at the sight of the blacksmith's blood. The image of the weeping child filled my mind. I didn't utter a word nor lift the dagger higher than my eyes, but the door saw it as if it had looked through my eyes. "A small thing, but a show of faith nonetheless. Walk in blood."

The door cracked, and the path forward appeared before me, along with a choice. I could turn back and face what I'd done. Or I could continue on this path, wherever it led me, and finally learn the truth. Sceleritas took hold of my hand and squeezed. "The choice is yours, Remora, my dear Master. I can only urge you not to run from what you are." He smiled. "I can only assure you that you are perfect, just as you are."

Bloodshed, death, murder… None of it appealed to me beyond that itch of my darker urges, but I'd killed so many. My hands were forever stained in blood, and nothing, not even facing judgment, would clean them. I'd kill again. I knew it to be true. What choice is there? I asked myself. Nothing will change unless you see this through. "It'd be a waste to turn back now." I smiled down at him and squeezed his hand back. "Besides, what would I do without my most loyal butler?"

We walked hand in hand down the decrepit staircase where the abandoned stone building came into view, nestled overtop a straight drop into nothingness. Sceleritas led me over the bridge of fallen pillars and through a low archway. I held his hand tightly in mine, using his presence as some reassurance to ease the fear and hopelessness rising in my chest. No matter what I found here, Sceleritas would be beside me. He always was.

Bright red lights illuminated as we traversed the winding, bloodstained path. Statues spoke to me, but I couldn't grasp their words beyond the sound of my heart hammering against my ribcage. The bridge stretched across, lit with fire and dark magic. Up a small set of stairs, another door stood closed. Sceleritas released my hand and skipped up the steps, turning to bow before me. "Oh, my Master! Welcome! Welcome to your royal home!"

The doors opened behind him as if on their own accord. Now or never. I ascended the stairs and walked through the doorway with my head held high. From the high ledge, I could see every corner of the room, the lights and the bodies of people gathered, but what I noticed most was the large pool of blood that stood on the opposite side of the room where a skull with bleeding eyes had been carved into the stone.

Bhaal. My father, if Sceleritas had spoken the truth. With another deep breath, I moved past the robed figures and down towards the center of this congregation. As I passed, the cultists whispered praises, words of great joy at my arrival. Sparing Sceleritas a glance, I quickly asked, "They were expecting us?"

"You, Master," he happily replied. "They've been expecting you for quite some time."

"Praised be the Lord of Murder!" One of them softly exclaimed.

An odd feeling of warmth suddenly erased the fear from my body. Never before had I been waited on… Met with soft words of joyous welcomes. They wanted me here. They felt some kind of love for me, and I enjoyed it. "They… like me?”

Sceleritas scoffed. "They adore you, Master!"

At the bottom of the steps, all the cultists bowed their heads. "Welcome home, Bhaalspawn. We have waited a very long time for this day."

"What day?"

The woman, who seemed to be the eldest, chuckled. "For you to ascend and take your place as Bhaals Chosen, of course!" She turned, gesturing to the pool of blood. "Go on, submerge yourself, and all shall be revealed."

By my side, Sceleritas urged me to go forward into the blood. My dark, featherless reflection hovered over the thick liquid. There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where I knew deep inside me that this wasn't what I wanted. Sceleritas' voice was soft as he seemed to answer my deepest fears. "Do not deny what you are, Remora. For it is beautiful, beloved, holy. You are perfect, just as you are."

I took the first step, giving into the deepest desire to be loved and accepted. Maybe this was the only way for something like me to achieve such. Maybe this was always what I was meant for. As the blood enveloped me, I felt warm… Safe… Powerful. Flashes of bodies torn apart and skulls growing from trees filled my vision. "Child of blood, go forth with divine purpose."

When I emerged again, the first thing I heard was Sceleritas clapping. Then, all that stood before me bowed. "All hail Bhaal's Chosen!"

This was my future - my life. All the years I'd spent trying to be anything other were wasted. Thief. Urchin. Whore. Murderer. Assassin. Monster. Demon. All those years of fighting, scraping, bowing, resisting… It had all been futile. This was what I was, who I was. Bhaalspawn.

Bhaal's Chosen.

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kdrama-mama · 2 months

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Well…DFF episode 11 was a ride. It gave me fucking whiplash, seriously.

I am still holding onto hope that Non is somehow alive. It didn’t stop me from feeling sick at seeing his supposed dead body, since I really don’t know, but I’m still holding onto hope, even tho I expected his death for weeks. There was something about the way it happened that felt incredibly anticlimactic compared to how the writing has been so far. Regardless, everyone in that boy’s life failed him. Everyone. He didn’t deserve an ounce of his fate.

Tee is such an interestingly grey character, though. He’s involved with his uncle, who he knows is a gangster, yet he’s surprisingly naive to the potential consequences for getting Non involved.

From the beginning of the flashbacks in episode 4, I had wondered if Tee was being setup as the one who wronged Non the most to later give him a redemption arc. What is interesting is how he tried to gain that redemption, with the part time job where he worked extra hard to help Non pay off his debt.

The thing about Tee is that he is ultimately a child with an unfair burden on his shoulders. He’s taking care of his father, who is not really lucid, although ambulatory and unpredictable. Add that to being forced to work for his violent uncle, it’s not surprising that Tee acted out as a bully to Non.

But he ultimately failed his redemption. Non died anyway (as far as he’s aware, because again, clinging to hope Non is alive). Yet Tee somehow found somebody he loves, who makes him want to be a better man.

It surprised me at how I was actually able to enjoy the TeeWhite montage. They are an adorable couple and I love how much of a flirt White is. The circumstances of their meeting (which, lol Internet cafe, not what I expected at all) make it seem less likely to me that White factors into any kind of plans. Which makes me actually concerned that something will happen to White. Their story just feels like it was primed for tragedy, Tee reforming himself because he met the boy of his dreams, only for that boy to be killed by someone with a grudge because of his past wrongs.

I had a feeling we’d end up with Phee pointing the gun at Tan bc he didn’t want to go through with any killing. I didn’t think he would be one to go through with that sort of thing, he only agreed to find out the truth & implicate the group. Love the turn of events with Tan drugging everybody to take control of the situation.

Next episode appears to be full of hallucinations that the group experience. I guess Tan’s plan is to let them experience terror before he kills them? Not that I want anyone in particular to die, but I feel like the setup promised to kill people on par with a slasher flick. I’m ready for the horror film part.

As much as I’ve enjoyed watching week by week and speculating, this is the kind of series where the ending is crucial to whether I say I liked it overall or not. That’s not often true for me. I’m not sure if I’m setting up to be satisfied with the ending, though. One more week to go.

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #dff the series

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gerrysherry · 6 months

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In honor of that terrible tiktok that compares our blorbo Magneto to Tony Stark, I propose comparing him to one of the few avengers he actually has things in common with (the others being his own kids and Bucky Barnes) - Marc Spector, host of the system who call themselves Moon Knight.

Let’s play a game. I tell you vague plot points and you will guess whether I’m talking about Magneto or Moon Knight. answers under the cut.

1 Started out as the antagonist, after many years and fights they’re now allies with the protagonist

2 first wife, whose name is short for Mary Magdalene, left him for being too violent, not taking his idea of vengeance very well

3 Let a colorful team led by a woman arrest him so he could serve trial for crimes he committed in another country

4 The Nazi who tormented him as a kid really thought our protagonist would join him and his weird little murder club as an adult. Said Nazi gets murdered by our protagonist for his trouble.

5 His trauma and mental illness are used to either villainize or excuse his actions (or both at once)

6 Got revenge on his corrupt CIA handler and is portrayed as heroic for doing so

7 Almost enslaved the population of New York that one time except it wasn’t really him

8 Still blames himself for the paralysis of his oldest friend

9 Has exactly one close Jewish friend

10 Was revealed to be Jewish by a later writer who was Jewish himself

11 Writers occasionally retcon him as a goy in an effort to not write him as an antisemitic stereotype instead of not writing him as an antisemitic stereotype to begin with

All of these apply to both of them. Should have been obvious by the vague wording. I’m not for a second implying they’re the same character as many of these tropes apply to other characters as well.

Four and nine are kind of stock tropes for Jewish anti-heroes, sadly. I especially hate four being common. Five and seven happened to a lot of characters, especially those who ‘go crazy’. Six is really just the trope of ‘CIA bad, FBI good’ which is thoroughly deserved for the CIA but really lets the FBI off the hook for their crimes. Eight is a bit of a stock trope too, seeing disability as a friendship destroying tragedy. Ten is true for Ben Grimm and the Maximoffs (and their kids) as well. Few Jewish characters are introduced as such in Marvel. Kitty Pryde is the exception, not the rule.

The main differences between Magneto and Moon Knight are upbringing and motivation. I find it disingenuous to compare the experience of a surviving World War Two to growing up in Baby Boom Era (or 80s Reagan era) America, two very different types of antisemitism. The motivation angle is even more crucial, Magneto does things for a social cause, Marc was either in it for the money pre redemption arc and more for spiritual reasons post redemption arc.

Anyways, let’s look at the context to see they actually have very little in common, because when you look at the context often it’s not the same story at all.

Explanation:

Marc Spector first shows up in Werewolf by Night as a mercenary working for the villainous committee hired to capture the werewolf Jack Russell. Realizing that he’s the bad guy in WWBN, Marc joins forces with Jack and kills most of the committee (it’s a horror comic, they can do that). Marc and Jack have since worked together more than they’ve fought. Magneto started as THE first X-men villain but has since become their ally after many, many fights.

2. Magda is short for Magdalene, Marlene is short for Mary Magdalene. Magda leaves Max (Magneto’s birth name) when he murders everyone in a crowd of people who murdered their daughter Anya. Marlene leaves Steven (Marc’s alter whom she married) after Marc cut off his nemesis’ face and wore it as a mask. Unlike Magda, who absolutely freaks out that her husband can murder with his mind, Marlene has been putting up with Marc’s murderous ways for years and decides the line has been drawn at nemesis face wearing.

3. Magneto lets Mystique’s brotherhood arrest him for nebulous crimes and be extradited from the USA to France in UXM #199. Marc lets Silver Sable’s wild bunch arrest him for assassination of a South American dictator and extradited to said Latin American country for trial in ‘Marc Spector: Moon Knight’. Completely different stories but the fight looks oddly similar. I like to think that Marc and Sable have a history of working together because she comes from a family of Nazi hunters and they’re both mercenaries.

4. In X-men first class, Erik was exploited and abused by Sebastian Shaw, a nazi collaborator who uses Erik for his powers and murders Erik’s mother. When they meet as adults, Shaw runs the Hellfire club and wants Erik to join him. Erik kills Shaw with his powers, the very powers Shaw hoped to to use. In Max Bemis' Moon Knight, Marc has an abuser named Ernst who tries to goad the boy into murder. When young Marc doesn’t do it, Ernst disappears. When they meet as adults it’s revealed Ernst is a nazi war criminal who runs a society for sadists and expects Jake (the alter he views as most evil) to join him (despite hating Jews and having killed Marc’s grandfather). After much soul-searching over whether he’s just as bad, Jake essentially beats Ernst within an inch of his life and leaves him to die. Boxing is the first fighting style the system learned, in part to protect themselves from people like Ernst and in part to earn some much needed money. However how the two deal with their abusers is telling about who they are as people. Marc has killed plenty of innocents in his mercenary years but still can’t bring himself to hurt his abuser from childhood possibly fearing to ‘sink to his level’ and possibly because he still feels like a powerless child around Ernst. Erik… has no such compunctions with killing Shaw and also steals Shaw’s cool helmet. Also both stories take a character and dilute their two very different experiences with two different types of antisemitism and boil it down to ‘he has a vendetta against this one specific Nazi who hurt him as a kid’.

5. Erik clearly has PTSD and possibly bipolar disorder/ schizoaffective disorder as well. It’s sometimes used to explain why he’s evil: ‘Well, he was manic at the time’/‘his psychosis is worse than ever before’. Also his power levels do seem to fluctuate wildly and bipolar is used as the excuse. I have yet to see Erik’s bipolar being portrayed in a non-ableist way the way Lorna’s bipolar is. Marc is a host alter of a DID system. Many writers handle this badly and portray Marc or Jake as an evil possessing force waiting to be let free and murder for fun. Sometimes the writers do this to Khonshu instead and it’s as boring but less problematic than the evil alter trope. Other times, Marc and his alters work together to achieve their goals and are shown as trying to overcome their many issues together.

6. Erik murders Control, his CIA handler after Control kills Erik’s girlfriend Isabelle. Control does this because Erik killed a paperclip scientist America had plans for. Marc almost kills his former CIA handler William Cross after Cross tried to mind control him and Jake’s new friend Ben Grimm. Cross just wants to take over the world after losing his eye and his hearing to a botched assassination. It’s implied that either Cross taught Marc to resist mind control or even Cross has tried to brainwash Marc before and Marc learned to resist. It’s also possible MARC was the one responsible for the botched assassination of Cross.

7. Actually the time Magneto imprisoned and almost murdered most of New York wasn’t him at all, it was actually Xorn the whole time. Actually the time when Moon Knight turned New York into New Thebes and turned people into werewolves and forced the rest to build pyramids, he was possessed by Khonshu the whole time. Both runs are hated by fans of the characters for completely derailing both characters.

8. In X-men first class, Erik accidentally wounds Charles in the spine and paralyzes him below the waist. In Shadowland, Marc’s undead brother Rand attacks those close to the system. Jean-Paul, Marc’s friend from the mercenary days, is hurt especially hard and even with prosthetics he uses crutches. Neither Jean-Paul nor Charles hold it against their old friend. Both Erik and Marc blame themselves and decide this is a good reason to completely cut off contact. I get the rationale was ‘I’m too dangerous to be around’ but… like, maybe visit your friend in the hospital? Also it’s not like Marc is a wanted terrorist who would be instantly arrested in that space in time (he is his backstory, see point 3) so he has less of an excuse for never visiting his friend.

9. Erik’s ties to the wider Jewish community are tied to Kitty Pryde. If Kitty’s not dragging him to a party, he’s celebrating High Holidays alone (or not at all). The only Jewish person Marc, Steven and Jake keep up with is Ben Grimm. Ben sends a Hanukkah card to MK every year and this is canon. If Ben decides to attend one of Kitty’s parties he might invite Moon Knight too (as seen in one Marvel Holiday Special). This also means that MK and Mags have a) met at one of Kitty’s Hanukkah parties or b) share a mutual acquaintance through Kitty

10. Stan Lee just wanted a knock-off Dr. Doom to face off his X-men. Chris Claremont was the one to give Magneto his now famous backstory first revealed in UXM 150. And even then we never had onscreen confirmation that Magnus was Jewish until the late 2000s because Marvel feared backlash. Marc Spector was named after a (presumably Jewish) friend of writer Doug Moench. Moench liked the spooky sounding name for his horror comic without realizing Spector is a historically Ashkenazic surname. While Moench dropped hints that Marc was Jewish, he never revealed so outright. possibly because the mercenary past in which Marc was only in it for the money (an antisemitic stereotype as they go), possibly because Spector served a pagan god or perhaps because the Goy Moench didn’t feel qualified to explore that aspect of Marc properly. Alan Zelentz, a former principal at a Yeshiva (A type of day school for Orthodox Jews) decided to make Marc the son of an Orthodox Rabbi and explore in which ways Moon Knight did and didn’t embody traditional Jewish values (there is a literal page devoted to that in Moon Knight 37, I kid you not). Many writers forget Marc was Orthodox and write as if he was raised Reform which can be jarring. As Jarring when both start talking about purgatory or hell. Jews don't have a hell and our closest concept to purgatory is gehenna. Now you know!

11. Writers either avoid mentioning Erik is Jewish or try to retcon him as Romani when they write him as a villain again. Writers also tend to avoid mentioning Marc is Jewish in stories where they show his past as a violent mercenary who is only in it for the money. What would be much better would be to instead avoid antisemitism altogether and write a man who only cares about his in-group or a man who only cares for money and his close friends and not writing an antisemitic stereotype.

Will I make a sequel for Wanda and Pietro or Bucky? Sadly no. You're welcome to make your own.

#anti tony stark #erik lehnsherr #magneto #marc spector #moon knight #character analysis #this or that list #my writing #my meta #weird formatting #tony stark fans don't touch this #I don't want to hear your "well actuallys'#tw nazi mention

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