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#they deserve more than death
dyhardvalentine · 1 month
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i really hope they dont kill kipperlily with no chance at redemption…. :(( shes not a good person but shes also a KID. she deserves a chance at redemption as much as aelwyn and ragh did.
the thing is i dont think she fully understands what is to live/grow up struggling vs being “more interesting” in her ideals. shes like 16-17. all she knows is anger. i dont want her story to end violently. i want her to have a change. i want all the rat grinders to have a chance bc as much as theyve probably done theyre kids. theyve been filled with an anger thats twisted their perceptions and clouded their mind. they dont deserve to die now
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bizarrelittlemew · 8 months
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Finally gaining approval and popularity in a world you always craved being a part of vs. watching the other person enjoying the very thing you're trying to escape
One difference:
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yourlocalcorviddad · 7 months
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Ok Ok so.
In dpxdc stories. Danny always gets assumed to be sick or uses it as an excuse or whatever to hide his powers right?
What if he wasn't lying?
It wasn't something easily noticed, not when half a dozen other things could explain it after all.
The shakes lingering? Well he'd used his ice powers a lot the night before fighting Skulker.
The faint feeling and lightheadedness? Well his mom had a good shot when people didn't interfere, and while he healed fast, it wasn't from nothing; he felt better after he ate anyway.
Heart racing suddenly? Probably just attempting to regulate the low beat on reflex again to seem normal but over shot it.
But the getting out of breath or spotty vision hadn't really been easily explained.
It was Mr. Lancer who asked about it after he'd gotten up from his seat in detention-happening less and less for actual reasons and more an opportunity to safely do his work and rest, after the truce with the ghosts to leave him and the town be during certain hours-only for the next thing he knew he was on the floor, head pillowed on Mr. Lancer's sweater, and a cool wet paper towel on his forehead and neck.
POTS. Post orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Not uncommon for those who had had injuries too their hearts to get.
It made sense when the teacher asked if he could have it. Apparently a friend of his's daughter had it.
From there, it made things easier to an extent. Salt was pretty easy to add, he figured out a wrist brace that he could extend into a cane if needed to.
In ghost form he didn't need it at all, but human form had its limits.
Despite all that he'd gone through, he graduates and even gets accepted to a college near jazz, hers was in Metropolis but Gotham had the ambient ectoplasm that he needed, and it was a day trip away.
And so Gotham U became his home, especially after his parents couldn't take that he wasn't "their son" anymore when he told them-after moving everything and getting his cheap apartment set up just in case. He considered it lucky that they loved their son enough they couldn't hunt "his ghost".
Last he'd heard they were working closer with the GIW but hadn't had much luck since the portal strangely closed soon after he left and the other ghosts didn't feel much reason to visit Amity anymore without him there.
It was Gotham U where he met Dick by literally fainting into his arms after a long day where he'd forgotten to eat and the early dinner the night before plus the going down the stairs at a quick pace and leaning forward with gravity.
"sorry, couldn't help falling for you~" the cheesy pick up line was the only thing his foggy brain could comprehend before he fainted.
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royalarchivist · 4 months
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Luzu: A child of mine died to your hands on the QSMP Quackity: [Literally told Luzu Tilin was his child a month ago] Who was your child? Luzu: Tilin!
This is a compilation of several different clips confirming that Tilin's parents are Quackity and Luzu. QsmpEN also made a post about it!
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(Every time I remember Luzu never got to meet Tilin because THE ONE DAY he planned to meet her, the server was closed, I get so sad...)
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starry-bi-sky · 9 months
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Childhood Friends Au: Jason
there's something burning in the empty room inside my head fill it up with doubt let it in, let it spread
When Jason gets Tim's text in the groupchat, he ignores it. And then a short series of buzzes distract him from a drug bust. It hasn't even been that long since he reconciled with the family, with Bruce. He thinks that perhaps he should have left it sooner.
He glances at it momentarily when the buzzing stops and he doesn't need to knock out more guys. He sees Tim's question dedicated towards him, and his response is instant, his thumbs flying over in response.
He doesn't care, he's trying to patrol.
(He does not have Danny's number in this phone, it's new. A model from this year rather than one from four years ago. He wants that old phone back. He hasn't even looked at their old letters yet.)
(Jason bets that they've been packed away in storage with the rest of his things. He doesn't want to visit the manor, but maybe he should. Just to find those letters again. He's not sure if he's allowed to.)
And then Tim says its Danny, and Jason flies up to the past texts to find the photo before he can think. And then there is Danny staring right at him again, with the same old smile on his face that he always aimed at people. Lopsided, Danny's favorite kind of smile.
Something old, something new. He's got piercings, and his eyes are as blue as they've ever been. He has an undercut, it looks self-done. It looks good. He looks tired.
Danny's good at hiding things from people, it comes with the purchase of being a street kid. But Jason can't have someone else's back without knowing the ins and outs of the person in question. Jason knows when Danny is tired, and Danny knows when he is too.
Before his death, whenever Danny came over he never missed a beat in telling Jason that he looked like shit. Were Bruce's fancy rich-people, cloud-made mattresses too soft for him? He can find him a moth-eaten street mat for him if he needs it. It'd be like the good old days.
(Jason wishes he could have told him he was Robin, but it wouldn't be safe.)
Jason had to see him with his own eyes, had to confirm with his own eyes just how much Danny had changed. It's just his luck -- if he has any left -- that he arrives to Bruce's dumb gala just as Danny steps out onto their once-shared, west-end balcony.
He drops down, something heavy in his throat, before he can properly think it through. Danny looks up before his feet even touch the ground, like he knew he was there. Jason wonders if he did. There is a cigarette in Danny's mouth. Something old. And something flashes in his eyes that Jason cannot place. Danny looks tense.
Jason feels like he's made a mistake.
In the end, watching Danny walk away feels a lot like Jason is losing something -- or is he missing something? Is it both? He wants to reach out, grab Danny's arm, but his feet are glued to the balcony floor. There are so many things he wants to say, but his tongue has glued itself to the roof of his mouth. Something has crawled into his mouth and died.
So much has been said with so little words. He wants to spin Danny around and ask him so many questions.
What do you mean you spoke to my ghost?
What do you mean I told you the Joker killed me?
What else have I told you?
The Fentons were right?
What happened while I was gone?
Why are you scarred? Where did those come from?
(He is not blind. He saw those silver lightning scars etched into his best friend's skin, saw that it disappeared under his sleeves. Danny did not have those the last time Jason saw him, the last time he was alive.)
(The sight of it makes him alight with murderous intent. He wants to take his best friend by the front of his shirt and shake him -- who did this to you? Who did it? Tell him, he will fix it.)
(But he can't. He doesn't. Doing that means revealing who he is. It means telling his best friend that he has been alive for the last five years and he did not tell him. It would mean telling his best friend that he did not want him to know.)
You're going to kill the Joker for me?
What have I missed?
What do I not know?
You look so tired.
But before he can even get his mouth to move, Danny is gone back inside. The door swinging open, music once muffled now blaring out for only a few seconds before Danny is slipped back inside.
And Jason is left on the balcony, alone, with more questions than he thought he would have. He stares at the broken cigarette on the ground, it feels like a metaphor for something. Jason can't figure out for his second life what it is.
Maybe it's not a metaphor at all, maybe the curtains are sometimes just blue. Maybe sometimes your best friend just tells a vigilante that he is going to murder someone; that he is going to avenge his best friend with his bare hands and feel no remorse for it.
It is what Jason wants Bruce to do, wants someone who loves him to do. But he's not sure if its something he wants Danny to do. Not when he has been living a normal life -- or as normal as it could be -- without hide nor tail knowledge of what Jason used to do, or what he does now.
What have I missed?
Danny. He's missed Danny. He didn't look into Amity Park out of fear of what he'll find; of what he might do. But now Jason thinks he might have to.
Danny has talked to his ghost. Danny is going to kill for him. He has that look in his eyes that Jason knows so familiar; the one where he needs Jason to play distractor while he stole something from the corner store. The one where he looks a kid five years his senior in the eyes and kicks him in the dick because he cornered him and Jason, itching for a fight.
There's a look so familiar in his eyes; the one of a boy that's set his mind to something and he is going to do it. He can't call it the eyes of a cornered animal, because Danny has never been cornered, not when he's been with Jason. He calls it the eyes of a boy about to do something he will never regret.
He watches him leave with the Vlad Masters guy. He hides atop the roof and eavesdrops. The paparazzi have since left now that it was much later in the night; they are not the bigger fish, even if they sometimes parade it to be.
"I thought I told you to make nice." Vlad Masters scowls as he walks to the other side of the sleek black limousine. "To not embarrass me."
Jason frowns at the way he talks. His fingers itch, and something old lurches in his chest: the same old protectiveness that he used to feel whenever he and Danny were about to get into a fight. And then, later, when they would stand inside Bruce's galas with people who couldn't care less if they breathed or died.
Danny scowls right back at him, all venom and bite, and leans against the side of the car. "I did make nice -- as nice as I could when you dragged me here."
Vlad Master rolls his eyes, huffing. Jason's frown only deepens. It's not easy to make Danny do anything he doesn't want to. His sister has tried, so have his parents, as well as his teachers. But Danny is wild and so is Jason. Rebellion and disobedience -- no, independence -- cut into them from the streets like its broken glass.
Jason doesn't remember Danny ever mentioning knowing a Vlad Masters. They must have met after Jason died, then. He doesn't like him. He's the same as all the other socialites in that party. There is a greed in his eyes that Jason knows rots down to the core of him.
"I thought you would enjoy being here, little badger." Masters tries, and his tone makes Jason ruffle. As does the nickname. Danny's scowl only ever deepens, his fingers curling to dig nails into his palms. He looks at Masters like he wants him to burst into flames. "You are friends of the Waynes, I thought you would like the little reunion."
"Whether I did or didn't is none of your business." Danny says. The door clicks open on Masters' side, as if they remembered that they were on the street rather than in the car. Masters climbs into the back, and Danny opens the door. He only reaches in though, and pulls out a old hoodie.
Danny pulls it over his head, and his vest and button-down are hidden underneath it. "Don't wait up you old fruitloop, there's someone here I need to see." And he slams the door shut with more force than necessary.
(Jason makes a mental note to look into Vlad Masters. Who is he to Danny. How did they meet? There is an old animosity between each other that Jason has never seen before. Not even when they were on the streets. Not to this extent.)
Jason's heart seizes up. Danny's reminder early surges to the front of his mind. Right. That's right. He's going to go see him. Jason. He is going to lay flowers on his grave. He remembers that Jason likes zinnias. There are no florists open this late at night, Jason thinks.
He follows Danny from the rooftops. Danny sticks close to the buildings, slipping in and out of shadows. Jason wants to know where he learned how to do that. Where did he learn how to move without a sound?
Five years is a long time to be away from someone, Jason thinks. Something that fills him with dread. Five years is a long, long time. He's afraid that it's been too long. Will he still know Danny like he used to, if he asks? And if he doesn't?
More, more, more. More questions than answers. More things that Jason doesn't know about someone he used know to like the back of his hand. It scares him, and he hates it.
(There is scarring on Danny's hand that Jason has never seen before. Maybe that's the metaphor he was missing before. Maybe there are still more.)
Danny moves like a ghost down Gotham's streets, his hands shoved into his pockets without a care in the world. It is confusing. It is concerning. It is proof that more things have changed than Jason likes.
Danny somehow finds a florist open at this time of night, and buys a bouquet. And like he told the Red Hood, he buys zinnias. Reds and yellows. For a moment, Jason thinks that Danny knows. He wonders if he does.
What would he have told him, if he was a ghost? He told him that the Joker killed him. Maybe that means he told Danny he was Robin too, like he always wanted to. But couldn't, because it wasn't safe, and it wasn't just his secret to tell?
Why has nothing changed, now that he was alive again?
"Did you know," Danny starts, when he sits down at Jason's grave with flowers slipping gently from his fingers, before the tombstone below. Jason is as close as he can without being seen, hiding like a ghost. "That red zinnias mean stead beating of a heart?" He smiles sardonically, "You picked quite the flower, Jay."
(There is an echoing in his ears, Danny's voice faint in the back of his mind. Ghosts can hear you when you speak to their grave, did you know? Jason can hear him better than he should.)
Jason knows the irony. Perhaps it's got double the meaning now, now that he's alive again. Danny doesn't know that though, sitting before his grave with flowers that symbolize a beating heart. Between the two of them, Jason thinks that the only heart here is Danny.
(Between the two of them, the only heart here is one that's made between the two of them.)
"Yellow zinnias," Danny continues, resting his chin in his hand, "mean daily remembrance." His smile tilts on the axis of his mouth, a wrinkle between his brows. He looks pained. Hurt. There is no comment made. Like it doesn't need to be said.
Jason thinks he can hear it anyways, and his heart twists like someone took it and twisted it like a rag, trying to drain the dirty water out of the cloth. He hurts.
I miss you. Is what he hears. Is what Danny doesn't say. Is what Jason knows he's thinking anyways.
I am right here. Is what Jason wants to say, but doesn't. He is right here. But his feet are grave-bound to the floor, and a part of him feels like he's clawing out his own grave again. But the dirt falling is endless and merciless. He can't get free.
He bites his tongue, a lump in his throat. Shame wells in his heart and Jason wants to shrink away from this. His feet are grave-bound to the floor.
"I'm sorry for not visiting sooner." Danny says, hand dropping out of his chin to pick at the ends of his sleeves. His smile fades into a frown. His voice wobbles. "I'm sorry, I don't have an excuse. I should have."
Please don't be. Jason thinks. He doesn't think he can be upset about it, not when Danny is laying yellow flowers on his grave that mean remembrance. i think of you daily. Not when Danny was going to kill the Joker for him.
Jason still doesn't know what to think of that. He still isn't sure if it's real or not.
"I went to one of Bruce's galas today." Danny says, and Jason knows. He saw him there. Danny smiles weakly. "I know, right? First time in five years. Vlad dragged me along, you remember him right?"
No, I don't. Jason thinks, and he feels a flutter of anxiety. A sense of impending doom. A choking dread. What else have I missed? He thinks again. Why doesn't he remember? Danny told him about Vlad, but it can only be from when he was a ghost. How long was he a ghost before he was revived? How often did he and Danny speak?
Jason doesn't like not knowing things, he doesn't like not knowing things about himself.
It would be so easy, a little voice whispers, to reveal himself now. To step forward and take his helmet off. To tell Danny that he was alive. To demand answers that only Danny could know.
But then what? When Danny inevitably asks his own questions? About how long Jason's been alive? Why he was dressed the way he was? Why he didn't say anything earlier, on the balcony?
(But he did say it earlier, when he offered Danny the cigarette and silently asked him for his thoughts.)
Jason is afraid of what Danny might think of him, if he tells him what he's done. About the blood on his hands and the bridges he's burned. What if telling him is just more gasoline on another bridge, with Danny holding the match? He stays silent. Fear is a powerful motivator. It's a powerful deterrent, too.
"The asshole blackmailed me into coming." Danny says, drawing his knees up to his chest. He looks disinterested. Annoyed, actually. Like what he is saying isn't sending alarm bells through Jason's mind. Like what he's saying doesn't concern him. "It's really dumb, actually."
He sighs, long and tired. There is grief etched into every line and pore in his face. "I could have handled it without even needing to come to the gala, I've done it before." He mutters when his eyes open. His fingers brush against the petals of the bouquet.
(And that only sends more alarm bells ringing in Jason's mind. Red lights blaring. Distress fills the cavity of his lungs. What has he missed?)
"I only agreed because I missed you," Danny says, "and Bruce. He invited me to come over sometime soon, to catch up. I agreed and I'm not sure why I did."
Jason didn't know that.
Danny continues talking. Jason listens in dutifully. He feels like a stranger imposing on his own grave. It's ridiculous. It makes sense. He feels like he should slink away and let Danny talk to his grave in peace. He cannot bring himself to move.
If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that he's sitting in front of him, like it's the good old days and they're back in Jason's room in the manor. Staying up late and trading stories back and forth. Sneaking out to the balcony and climbing onto rooftops they’re not supposed to go on. 
Jazz is getting her psychology degree. Him and Sam had a big fight a few years ago, but they’re better now. Tucker wants to start his own tech business. 
And on and on Danny goes, rambling about every little thing he can think of in the last five years since they last talked. He jumps back and forth between topics, when he remembers something he cuts to it. And then jumps back off to the next thought passing through his mind.
"I don't know what I want to do." Danny says, finally, after he exhausts every other topic to talk about. "I wanted to be an astronaut, but now I'm not so sure." His knees draw up to his chin, and he looks so sad. He looks nineteen. Small despite his size.
Were they really just nineteen, verging on twenty? Jason feels older among his years. Fourteen feels so far away.
Danny breathes in slowly, it's a sound that trembles. From where he stands, Jason sees Danny's eyes film over with tears. He makes a choked out sound that sounds like a terrible mix of a laugh and a sob.
"Where did you go?" He whispers. He tries to smile, and it is this pained, awful thing that drops within a second. Fingers clutch at his legs, diggings wrinkles into the fabric. "I know you're still here. Where did you go?"
There is no answer. Guilt is an animal with claws, and it burrows into Jason's heart to make itself home between the tendons. Tears slide from Danny's eyes down his cheeks. He still cries for him, five years later. Five years after. Jason feels worse.
"I haven't stopped looking for you." Danny continues, his voice cracks, and the words run over Jason's ears like water sliding off a duck's back. He doesn't hear it at first -- no, he doesn't understand it at first. And then when he does, he plunges his hands into the waters of his mind to drudge it back up.
You're looking for me? Do you know I'm alive?
It's another question to Jason's never-ending list.
"You might as well tell me where you are now." He smiles again; tries to. It wobbles, lips pulling back to show teeth as more tears spill over and carve red marks down Danny's face. "Or I'll find Cujo and sick him on you. He's gettin' real good at tracking things you know."
Jason doesn't know who Cujo is. But it sounds like a dog. He knows Danny's always wanted one, but their apartments would never allow it. It's not like his parents could afford one either.
There is a silence that hangs over them, with only the sound of the city around them. Danny seems to tremble more and more as each second passes, until finally a bubble pops. His smile drops, and so do his knees that were pressed into his chest.
He doesn't say a thing, not with words anyways. He hunches over and hugs himself with nails that dig into his elbows, failing to stifle a years' old grief. Jason wants to flee, lest he breaks his word to himself and steps out to console and dry Danny's falling tears. It feels like a betrayal unto himself to only stand there and watch him drown in his grief.
Guilt is a thing with claws, and Jason leaves the cemetery with hatred eating his tongue. Danny deserves the privacy that a ghost cannot give him. Jason may no longer be a ghost, but he is still the next best thing. either way I'm left holding onto the shovel and rope digging in the dirt finding bones, finding ghosts
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writing-for-life · 2 months
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Death—John Watkiss
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sabotourist · 3 months
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i feel so much about delta you guys
red vs blue really looked at me and said here is our logic fragment. this is the logic man. he feels logic. he has a strong survival drive. but also he loved york enough to be willing to die with him.
sigma wanted so fucking bad to be human, to be whole, to chase what they came from and what they were. that he totally missed the fact that delta fucking made it. Delta was more than the Logic Fragment. He had his own bonds, his own wants, his own drive because of his relationship with York.
And in his attempt to become whole again, Sigma... completely undermined that. Made delta into the Logic Fragment again. just another fragment, not a person of his own.
do you ever think about how if sigma had slowed down and really tried to work with maine, that maybe things could have gone so so differently?
i think about that.
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meyerlansky · 8 months
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izzy experiencing genuine joy for two (2) seconds
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youngerfrankenstein · 2 months
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Soundwave superior.
This is why you don’t mess with someone’s cat.
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tuometarr · 7 months
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Just saw tbosas movie and I have such an URGE to write a snowjanus (is that their ship name?) fic where unknowing Sejanus becomes an accidental sugar daddy and coriolanus gets dragged kicking and screaming out of his villain arc by falling in love with Sejanus
I fully believe Coriolanus is unhinged enough for me to make this plot work
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thebroccolination · 1 month
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THE EX-MORNING SERIES CONCEPT
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By now I think many people have heard that KristSingto’s upcoming series is an original script that was written for them. What we also have confirmed is that it was written about them.
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[source]
KRIST: This series was written by P'Backaof and directed by P'Lit where they created this script from the start deliberately for the two of us and they got information for the characters etc. from KristSingto directly. In the series, the name for P'Sing is Tamtawan, and my name is Phatapi. And Tamtawan Tamtawan and Phatapi are KristSingto themselves.
INTERVIEWER: Does that mean you play yourself?
KRIST: [laughing] Yes, we act as ourselves, so it's not difficult at all.
Today, Aof elaborated on his part on Twitter:
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[source: @backaof]
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[translation: @_beinglistener]
And Jojo added:
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[source: @jojotichakorn]
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[translation: @_beinglistener]
So, two gay men are the leading creative minds behind KristSingto’s comeback series. Time to study up on your KristSingto history, kids. \:D/
Long live sanctioned RPF. 🎉
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#krist perawat#singto prachaya#kristsingto#the ex morning#i’ve already seen the same tired ‘guess rent was due’ about krist and#i see on twitter when people link my thread about krist to people still insisting he’s homophobic#man’s rich#he works constantly#he even said it’s something he regrets now that his grandmother who raised him passed away#he worked so much he didn’t have as much time for his family—who he helps support#he is quite literally considered bl royalty#he has more queer people in his circle than straight#waa (gay) is his mentor#aof (gay) wrote this series and jojo (gay) thought up the concept so even professionally he's supported by queer people#you don’t have to like him#and you don’t have to admit to sending death threats to a stranger who doesn’t speak your language based on rumors you didn’t verify#just y’know#admit quietly to yourself alone in your head that you were wrong and you caused harm to a person who didn’t deserve it#plenty of actors use bl as a stepping stone to bigger jobs#he’s not one of them#he wanted to do bl for years but gmmtv told him he could only work with singto#so literally the only reason kit didn’t do bl until BMF was scheduling issues because singto wanted to study abroad#and singto couldn’t get a fixed date for it and then the pandemic messed with his plans even more#i’m glad to see more and more people are understanding who krist is recently#and even in the series they made pathapi’s controversy an impulsive act of anger#krist has said he used to struggle with being hotheaded#and one of his apologies for the igs was even something like ‘i acted without thinking of how it would look out of context’#he just wanted people to stop harassing him for his sexuality but the context isn’t in the igs#anyway my go-to when i’m too tired to talk about this is always this#if he had ever been homophobic thai people would be the ones leading the charge against him…but it’s interfans
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fromtheseventhhell · 3 months
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Cersei and Brienne I am so, so sorry that people in this fandom have madonna-whore complexed you two. I'm so sorry that your characters and arcs have been reduced to you being the devil and angel on Jaime's shoulder. You deserve so much better than how you're perceived by this misogynistic fandom 🙏🏾
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densitywell · 9 months
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Marisha's comment about how Relvin is one of those parents who ended up with a child they didn't know what to do with really gets to the heart of it, i think, and is such a good way to tie the fantasy element of Imogen's powers into things more tangible. because there are really a lot of parents like Relvin in real life, who have a child with the person they're happily married to and never expect to be left alone with the kid. or who expect a ""normal"" (read: cisgender and heterosexual, able-bodied, relatively neurotypical and obedient, etc.) child and end up with one who's ""difficult"", who demands more or different of them than what they believe they signed up for. and that's not entirely entitlement on a parent's part- many cultures' common frameworks of parenthood and child-rearing do not include space for these children. it makes sense that Relvin was unprepared. raising any child is difficult, and raising a child whose needs you were never taught how to accommodate, who the world is so cruel to, is even more challenging.
and yet. and yet, the person who bears the brunt of the harm in these situations will always be the child. they're the ones who have to live every moment of how the world treats them, without the support that their parent is supposed to provide them. and when asked to care for his child even when she turned out to be ""difficult"", Relvin couldn't. for entirely sympathetic reasons, of course. he tried, in his own way. i don't think he's a bad guy. but he's let his own broken heart bleed onto his daughter. he hasn't been able to give her much else.
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izzysillyhandsy · 6 months
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I think the tragedy of Izzy is that he is the only character in the show who is severely punished for every transgression - and even the transgressions of others.
Ed gets a cannonball to the head, yes, but he is trying to get himself killed at that point. His atonement after he comes back is a few hours of banishment and a cat bell. The crew who openly plot to mutiny (and kill Stede) in S1 get art therapy.
Compare that to the mental and physical torture Izzy undergoes in S2 - and the lasting reminders of the violence done to him. There are lash marks on his back. His first severed toe doesn't magically heal, and his shot leg has to be amputated. Even his suicide attempt leaves a visible scar, while Ed comes away from a cannonball to the head without any lasting damage. In the end, Izzy (probably) dies from a combination of blood loss and an abdominal gunshot.
No other character in this show has any lasting effects from being - in some cases mortally - wounded like Izzy (apart from Lucius, but his finger is played more or less as comedy, and it's definitely not narrative punishment).
But Izzy doesn't only have to carry the consequences of his own actions. In the end, Izzy dies of a combination of the worst traits of the people he loves/aligns himself with.
Ed's projected self-hatred and perceived unloveableness costs Izzy half a leg. Yes, Izzy hurt him deeply and goaded Ed into becoming Blackbeard again. But Ed's extreme reaction and violence towards the person closest to him is all about Ed's issues.
Stede's careless recklessness (Things have a way of working out. At least for me.) and his casual disregard for the safety of others besides himself and Ed put Izzy in the path of a bullet. And yes, it wasn't Stede's fault. But it was Stede's "suicide mission" - planned without a thought for risk minimization and a blind trust in luck (or other people jumping in to save the day).
If I wanted to be really dramatic, I'd say Izzy died for Ed's and Stede's sins. And in the end, he even takes all of Ed's faults onto himself - thereby absolving him.
Maybe the Jesus Christ Superstar thing wasn't as clear-cut as we thought. We even get the classic pietà pose of a crying Ed holding his dead Izzy in the end.
(Which would make Ed a mother figure to Izzy. I think I'll better stop here.)
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doortongs · 1 month
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good luck, babe! (a delusional gay person who can scrapbook reads death note with a queer lens)
next
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hella1975 · 6 months
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i think for the amount of times ive listened to ethel cain i should’ve been given like. honorary vip status and just been sent concert tickets. you cannot convince me there’s a single other person in this fuckass little country who listens to ethel cain like i do
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