The best fics are the ones that recognize that although Luke Skywalker may APPEAR on the outside to be a normal friendly twink who happens to have cool powers, especially when contrasted with such ship partners as Boba or Din or even Han, he is arguably the scariest person alive in the galaxy around the prequel era. AND, crucially, he is also a fundamentally weird guy. This man was homeschooled on a rural farm his entire life and then apprenticed to a swamp gremlin who showed him how to tap into the cosmic power of the universe. He blew up the death star age 19, killing approx 2 million-ish Imperials. He is a vortex of Force power that can communicate with the ghosts of dead Jedi. He’s staring into the distance and mumbling to himself and doing Yoda aphorisms and casually pulling out the “yeah I could crush that guy into a paste with my mind (:” and nobody around him knows what to do with that. I think he is a character who has very little frame of reference for how a Jedi or a person in general is supposed to act and there is some thing about him that is by necessity really fucking weird and a little scary but he’s so nice that it can throw you off the scent a little bit. Thanks for coming to my TED talk
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i think the thing that really gets me about pre-canon durge is their absolute sense of duty, and their utter isolation outside of the cult of bhaal.
most of the cultists seem eager to see durge upon their return, and one even says they were the first to feed him flesh. gortash tells them of an exhibition of a bhaalspawn's corpse and another bhaalspawn's creations and durge immediately plans to attack the hall of wonder to recover them. they then apparently entrust said bhaalspawn's corpse to sceleritas fel to "restore" through taxidermy. they deride orin for her artistry with corpses explicitly because "bhaal will never care" and because orin "[does] not understand lord bhaal".
even their infamous prayer for forgiveness is framed around their absolute submission to bhaal's plans, and the crime that requires forgiveness? admiring his rival's chosen. that's one line, and the next three paragraphs are swearing to carry out his plan exactly as they've been told to, all for his forgiveness.
hell, even their room reinforces this. orin has barely touched the place aside from installing her mother's corpse and her manifesto - and that is some of the only decoration. what was it before orin, an empty room with skulls, a bed, a desk, some chests and a wardrobe?
the durge didn't have any semblance of a life outside of bhaal, aside from gortash. and is it any surprise? the only other hint they ever had a life outside of the cult is the flashback of kid durge murdering their adopted family, all thanks to their father's urging.
bhaal even tries to force them back into isolation after they've been tadpoled by forcing them to kill alfira, and then trying to force a durge who resists him to kill their lover. if they continue resisting, bhaal kills them. bhaal will not allow them to have a life outside of him and, if it weren't for jergal, he would've succeeded.
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cw: babies!!!! you’re also referred to as “ma” once
okay but like,,,,,first time dad Bakugou giving his baby their first bath after coming home!!! you’re fluttering around the kitchen, trying to make sure you have your daughters towel ready, her baby safe soap, a tiny washcloth, that her teeny tiny pajamas are in the dryer.
it’s only when you take a second to ask Bakugou something do you finally just—pause. your gaze instantly softens, a lovesick smile inching on your face as you watch your big buff pro hero husband hunch over the kitchen sink.
your daughter is resting in the baby bath seat, lilac colored and reclined back. she squirms when Bakugou lets the warm water run over her naked, fat little belly. her face scrunches at the new sensation, fists balling up against her chest. he coos at her, gentle,
“I know, ya little princess. Feels weird on ya, doesn’t it?” he asks her, voice so small under the running water. he cups his hand, holds a handful of water, tilts her fat cheek up to let it slide in her neck rolls that always smell like milk. she whines at that, sniffles and hiccups before she cries. you go to take a step forward, to console her, but Bakugou is so patient.
“It’s alright,” he kisses her tears away. “Daddy’s just tryna help you.” he runs the water all over her body, and paired with his softly spoken words, does she finally quiet after a few seconds. her little body trembles with the aftermath, pouty lips puffy and he can’t help but smooth his hand over the softness of her face.
“Yer a crybaby, just like your ma.” he whispers to her, grinning when that breaks you out of your stupor to smack him on the shoulder. you both laugh at that, and you finally feel the peace that is your little family. you lean against Bakugou’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his jaw before looking at your daughter again.
“You’re gonna be a great dad,” you mumble into his skin. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his shuddering breath, and the calmness that blankets the rest of your house.
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the original series of star trek is absolutely my favorite thing bc every episode is like:
-kirk manhandles a penis shaped rock prop for a very long time
-spock dances flamenco
-sulu fences down the hallway shirtless
-episode plot is kirk v massive sentient lump
-kirk tries to explain spock's ears as a childhood accident where he got his head caught in a mechanical rice picker
-on an unrelated note, spock starts wearing a beanie
-redshirts get turned into like. cubes of salt
-uhura defeats a giant green hand by hotwiring the entire comms console
-spock and kirk hold hands
-scotty stops chekov from starting a bar fight with klingons only to immediately start one himself bc the love of his life (the enterprise) gets insulted
-mccoy's fantasies involve meeting characters from alice in wonderland, including a giant anthropomorphic rabbit
-spock's alien sex drive episode
-kirk gets bodyswapped
-gladiator fight episode (1)
-gladiator fight episode (2)
-gladiator fight episode (3)
AND YET, every episode is ALSO like:
-war cannot be reduced to numbers from an outside perspective, because that makes it easier to stomach without change; the horror that is war must be acknowledged in order to make room for peace
-more types of life can be extant than we can conceive, and just because they are different forms of life doesn't make them incapable of prospering
-love cannot be programmed or controlled, and discriminatory hatred is a tool only for death and pain
-cultures that are different than our own are valuable and can be vibrantly rich with history, and judging them before we try to understand and empathize is not only reductive but contemptible
-happiness is something that we have to allow ourselves, and actively seek out, because it can't come to us without work and acknowledgement of our own state of being
-genocide can never be justified, and certainly not even to supposedly save the people that are more "valuable" by any given metric over those who are not, because all lives have worth
anyway the balance of absurdity and meaningfulness gives me life, and we haven't even gotten started on the whale movie lmao
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"It wouldn't feel right to... do this without giving us both some time, I think."
〔Sif looks away from you.〕
"But!" You stumble over the word, "Um! Later doesn't mean never!!"
〔You clumsily reach for one of your earrings and take it off. Even when you sleep, you wear studs. It feels kind of strange to go without!〕
〔You're not sure why you picked up the chain in the House. But... it gives you the chance to do this.〕
〔You hook it through one of the chain links and carefully slip on the back.〕
"So... until we're both ready. Until we know for sure! How about a promise?"
"A promise?" Sif echoes.
〔With all the caution in the world, you slip the chain around Sif's neck. They don't flinch. And... neither do you.〕
"A promise to come back to it eventually. We have time."
〔You do have time! Real, moving, twisting time! To think about things!!〕
〔Sif clutches the earring around his neck and smiles shakily.〕
"A promise."
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