#Some more Ed shit

[bizarrelittlemew]

calling it right now that season 3 starts like this

[kiddokori]

his ass is NOT getting up for his 8am lecture

[bougiebutchbitch]

every time I see a take that flattens Ed's character into this boring perfect angel who can do no wrong and has 0 agency because literally every choice he makes is determined by the actions of white men, I add another sentence to my stories where he's a sympathetic, complex and multifaceted trauma victim - but also an abuser who made terrible mistakes of his own volition, who seriously hurt people he cares about and left them traumatised, who feels crushed beneath the terrifying hypermasculine persona he built for himself (which he is still figuring out how to escape/incorporate into his new self/define himself around). A desperate, affection-starved, suicidal man who struggles hugely with his mental health, who deserves a loving support system (just not from his victims unless they want to be a part of it), who can grow and change and do better, who can work on himself and explore himself and find love and happiness.

but y'know, maybe I'm the one who 'hates his character' lmaoooo

[fxckin-blackbeard]

|| @avastyetwats || Cont. X ||

ᒥ☠ᒧ—        Ed can't help but smile, this man was nothing but adorable. He says the stench of the intoxicating herb 'smells good' and that earns a chuckle from Edward. Even he knew it smelled like ass, but Stede wanted to act all sure of himself, so he doesn't let him know you weren't really supposed to enjoy the scent. It was funnier that way.

He lifts his left leg and crosses it over his right from his sitting position on the stairs of the main deck. He'd already taken a puff, and it was easing the soreness of his knee fast. Soon he'd be able to jump all around the deck like he was in his 20s. Though, he would need a few more puffs before that, having grown tolerant of the opium after many years of use.

"Just," He's trying not to laugh and point out that Stede had gone from so sure to confused on how to even smoke. "Breathe it in. A deep breath. You're gonna wanna hold it in you're mouth, don't. Breathe it right down into ya lungs. Think like you've been underwater for a few seconds too long, big, deep breath, man." Edward shows him, taking a long, deep breath in. "Hold that deep breath in for a second, then exhale. Not through the pipe." He lets out the breath he was holding for a second.

Ed doesn't expect Stede to get to the holding it in part, he sounds like a novice on the smoking front. What he expects is a fit of harsh coughing. And he could warn Stede, but where was the fun in that? He'd rather watch the silly man smoke with confidence and find out the hard way that it's not an easy task at first.

"Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. Maybe I'll show ya how to blow smoke rings, too." Those were fun, and involved lip work. A bit of chance to flirt with the blonde? He'll take it.

[meyerlansky]

I have successfully boiled my problem with most of the izzy reads that i hate down to a sentence:

he's not sexually repressed, he's emotionally repressed.

[randomwriteronline]

The sounds of cooing and raucous voices sputtering out something akin to words was a good sign, they both thought as they approached the room. A few healers were standing around the doorway, watching in curiously and giggling to themselves at the poor attempts at language coming through the thin barrier dividing them from the beings who were not their patients.

Whenua stood beside them, his short hunched stature causing him to go mostly unnoticed; he crossed his arms behind his back, made a show of trying to peek through the curtains, and finally whispered in a conspiratorial tone: "What are we laughing about?"

One Ice Agori jumped so high that they nearly cracked their skull on the ceiling.

The onslaught of hurried embarrassed apologies that followed wasn't that loud, but there were enough beings talking at the same time as they scrambled against the wall to completely cover the vocal progress coming from the adjacent room, clumsily backing away from the two Turaga in a burst of sudden bashfulness.

Try as she might, Nokama could not hold back a quiet chuckle as her brother scattered the healers away with an imperious wave of his hand, so very unlike him.

He maintained his act as he side-eyed her: "Well?" he hissed with a self-importance that would have once fit Matau perfectly, only making her giggle harder: "What is there that you find to be so funny? Is it me? Ah! It is, isn't it? Have you no respect for your elders? Such irriverence! Why, you young ones, growing ever cockier by the year! When I was your age, young lady, we- we would- we had-"

At that point they were both too overwhelmed by their own laughing fits for the charade to continue - bent over their knees and sustaining each other from the shoulders as their frames rattled and rattled with the sound of pocketfulls of spare change.

"Oh!" a squeak reached them. "Would you look who's here!"

Their racket had not gone unnoticed, evidently.

The two Turaga hurriedly calmed down once more before entering the room. They had to keep at least some semblance of decency and intrigue about themselves.

Their one-hundred-percent dignified appearance from behind that thin excuse of a curtain was met by the lopsided smirk of an Agori with a heavy metallic sheen to her skin and the both excited and curious gazes of a pair of suddenly quiet beings.

"Ulagha!" one of them beamed, smiling so brightly that his entire face seemed to lit up.

"Raise your tongue!" Krahka chided him: "You need to block the air at least a little bit if you want any of that to make sense! And roll the arr further down your throat!"

He huffed, wiggling in his seat but still grinning as he repeated, slower, following her instructions: "Tu - rrra - ga!"

"Hello!" Nokama replied just as giddy.

"Ayam Poha - tu! Toa ov Tohn!" he continued - and instantly his face scrunched up in displeasure at his mispronunciation, the arms he'd thrown triumphantly in the air retracting immediately while his nose curled up and he tried again, phonemes tangling in his mouth: "Ton. Tohn. T- thon, thon, thon, thon! Thon!"

"Easy now, easy-"

"BONES!" he cursed out loud: "BONES! STONE! STONE! STONE! Ayam Poau- Po - ha - tu, To-a ov Sss-tone! Stone!"

"There you go!" Whenua hollered back.

With a victorious shriek the Toa pumped his fists: "Toa ov STONE!"

"Of," Krahka corrected.

"STONE!"

"Of stone."

"TOA OV STONE!"

"Alright, we'll fix that later."

"Aycan peak! Ps- sk- spkspk- seek- pek- sep- BONES! Ssspeak!"

Nokama beamed, eyes alight with pride: "You can indeed!" she laughed exuberantly as she streched out her arms towards him. Pohatu slammed his head in her palms much like a Hapaka pup, perhaps even a bit more forcefully than she would have liked, and let her sway it left and right while gently squeezing his cheeks between her fingers. "How lovely to hear you again!"

His laugh was as thunderous as she remembered, filling the entire room effortlessly.

"He's not that good," Krahka huffed. She didn't get all these compliments when she figured out speech in a handful of minutes...

Her student stuck out his tongue at her.

She stuck it right back at him.

If she'd still been a teacher, the Ga-Turaga would have felt compelled to break up their bickering; having trained herself on the most inane of her brothers' arguments, however, she simply turned away from their childish display to put all of her attention on the one being who still had not uttered as much as a sigh.

"And you, Kopaka?" she grinned at him. "Would you like to share your progress with us, too?"

The Toa treated her to as blank yet least annoyed a gaze as he could.

His lips moved forward, as if to send her a kiss: then he whistled.

Whenua widened his eyes: "No," he whispered.

Kopaka looked straight at him and whistled twice again, adding an inquisitive inflection to the sound.

"No," the Turaga repeated. His finger pointed right at the organic being's chest; his gaze had turned dead serious. "Do not do this to me. Speak."

Another whistle.

Whenua smacked his hand on his leg: "No!" he wailed in a state of total despair, "I will not take this! We do not need another one who speaks solely in bird! I know you can speak - Pohatu, tell him to speak! Tell your brother to speak!"

But Pohatu only grinned as wide as he could and shook in his seat, legs tangled and swinging - not even trying to hide his amusement.

The Turaga turned to his old friend: "Krahka! Tell him to speak!"

"But he is speaking," she replied innocently as she batted her lashes, "Just not your language."

Watching him grip onto the cot for dear life as he whined and sobbed dramatically loudly while letting himself sink to the floor, this close to biting a chunk out of the mattress in frustration, was certainly something. What exactly that was was hard to tell, but the other four beings could agree that it was at least very funny.

When Whenua finally pulled himself up, he looked like he had been through the trials of the Hordika again.

"Kopaka," he began, pointing his finger at the Toa of Ice once more. "Listen to me very carefully. You cannot do this to me. I've stomached Nuju speaking only bird for a thousand years, I physically cannot handle a second one like that. You will kill me. You will kill your brother's Turaga. Do you think Onua would appreciate that? I know you can speak. Now take a deep breath, and say something. Normally. With words."

Teridax had awaited thousands of decades to see his plan come to fruition - millions of days, billions of hours, trillions of seconds, all for a moment of glory that barely lasted but a fraction of the anticipation and planning behind its very achievement.

The pause before Kopaka's answer was somehow more excruciating.

Might have been his dead stare in the Turaga's eyes.

Or the fact that he followed his instructions to the letter, likely for the sake of torturing him further.

His lips parted first to take a deep, deep breath, filling his chest.

They parted again to then exhale all that air - very slowly.

Parting a third time, he inhaled shortly.

And finally, mouth protracted to whistle, he said, deadpan: "No."

Whenua sunk back to the floor with a loud whimper.

Two seconds later he sprung back to his feet: "You PIRAKA!" he shrieked, and menacingly swung his fist down on the cot several times as the Toa picked himself up and leisurely walked on the mattress to hide behind his brother, who was convulsing uncontrollably as he laughed harder than his stomach could take, "You Vatuka! You Makika-faced fiend! So much for being made by Artakha - get back here, you spawn of Karzhani! You make me believe you can only--!"

"He couldn't even speak avian," his sister cackled for the sake of increasing his brother's relief and anger at the same time, "My Rau couldn't even translate him! He was just whistling!"

"WHAT!"

Pohatu kept rocking back and forth wheezing hysterically to the point where he was about to start crying.

"You shut up, you overly meaty Vako!" Whenua yelled again.

The Toa tried to answer to the insult with something in tone as best as his still clumsy speaking capabilities could allow him to - instead coughing up a storm as he choked on a breath when he attempted to stop his crazed giggling a little too quickly, needing his brother to (extraordinarily gracelessly, to be quite honest) slam his open palm a few times on his back like he was trying to shatter his spine to smithereens in order to dislodge whatever disgusting thing was stuck in his throat.

At last he sucked in a huge breath, mouth opening wide in a grin as the sound of a creaking window escaped it: "Aploghy tim-one tim-too tim-thrr earh-tauraga tim-one tim-too."

"Oh!"

"Ah - yes," Krahka bit her lip, face scrounched up in an almost pained grimace: "That. I was going to mention that."

"Lang stone-pattern same-not, be?" Nokama whirred, hoping her memory was simply a little faulty. The words came out of her like the intermittent clicking laments of a floppy disk drive allowing its contents to be downloaded slowly.

"Smaae-not, bee," Pohatu confirmed - not without struggling to imitate something at least close to the correct noise a few times.

Kopaka rolled his tongue deeper down his throat in something akin to a purr: "Frrreim-uorrrk an- anao- amu- anolam- anomelie," he tried to explain, modulating squeaks by imposing his dull greyish teeth and tongue against his lower lip to try and correct his pronounciation - though much of it was beyond his control.

His frustration was mitigated slightly by Nokama's humid palm laying on his hand. He focused on the texture of the protodermis on his skin before he started scowling too hard.

The Turaga turned to their friend, speechless but with eyes open wide, completely baffled.

Krahka could only shrug: "They're not built for it."

"What do you mean, not built for it?" Nokama sputtered before she could hold herself back: "It's our language! Our first dialect! All Matoran are made with an immediate knowledge of it - what do you mean, not...?"

"Framework lang compat-not," the Rahi repeated: her Agori-like face morphed into a mixture of mechanical features, reminiscent at once of both all the former inhabitants of the Great Spirit Robot and none of them, so that she could illustrate the problem as they moved in an unnatural manner as she continued speaking in screeching whirrs, clicks, buzzes, clangs, clunks, and so on. "Unit mec-not lang maker lang part-plural present-not. When: lang maker-yes lang part number-plural mod-not. Ice-toa stone-toa find-yes number-plural rrr-lang part click-lang plus maker-yes part-part-part iiii-lang-dif minus lang part-dif number-plural mod-not."*

The information did very little to comfort the Ga-Turaga. She looked awfully beside herself.

"But you do understand it still - you did understand all that with no problem, right?" Whenua turned back to the Toa as he gently clunked: "Comp-yes, be? Comp-correct-yes, be?"

"Com-ies arth-turrga, bee," Pohatu reassured him.

The other winced a little, but he smiled: "And you can still say a few words," he reassured Nokama, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "Pronounciation leaves a lot to be desired, but based on how you spoke earlier it's safe to say that's not your forte."

The Toa of Stone dropped his shoulders with a cartoonish pout.

"Corec," Kopaka coughed.

His brother shot him a glare that wouldn't have been out of place on Nuju's face during one of his worst days.

The other Toa smirked with a smugness worthy of Onewa.

It was very short-lived, as he instantly dropped it and paled when Pohatu pointed at his nose with a brand new vengeance in his own dastardly grin as he only said: "Sayit."

Krahka tilted her head.

Then she grinned too.

Horrifyingly, because of the completely mechanical face.

Pohatu pressed harder on Kopaka's nose: "Sayit."

The Toa bit down on his lip and scowled.

"Sayit!"

"Come on, Kopaka," Krahka drawled with a honey-sweet tone, "Don't you want to show them how good you are?"

He shot her a look that could have killed her if she'd been any weaker a being and tried to stand up to walk out of the situation as he'd enjoyed being able to do in these past few days; he was instantly grasped and manhandled until he was essentially dangled before the Turaga, trying as hard as he could to hold himself back by clawing onto the cot with his dull fingers: "Sayit!!" his brother insisted with a wail, shaking him up and down like a jammed up pepper grinder.

"No!" he growled back quietly as his cheeks grew darker.

Pohatu leaned down to the baffled Turaga with a conspiratorial smirk: "Ee kip sain da vecas ee nos ee can mes i'ap," he stage-whispered, completely forgoing any lesson he might have been given on proper phonology in favor of fluid if only vaguely comprehensible communication.

"Can-NOT!" his brother corrected.

"Aysay da!"

"NO! Ee- Yu, say-d, can!"

"He's right, you said 'can', not can't." their teacher intervened: "You're really bad with plosives."

He very maturely replied by blowing her the loudest raspberry he could and resuming shaking his poor frazzled brother by the shoulders whilst gargling some sort of inarticulate howl.

The sheer tenacity with which Kopaka was holding onto that terrible mattress was probably only matched by a Bohrok's drive to clean.

Krahka's hyena-like cackle briefly interrupted his concentration so he could shoot her another positively deadly glare - which meant that he was taken completely aback when he was finally ensnared from beneath the armpits in a grapple, lifted halfway in the air, and launched together with his brother as the both screamed back onto the bed.

The Rahi kept laughing as the two tussled like a pair of angry manuls, needing to bend down on her knees before her lungs collapsed and she fell to the floor.

She waved at the worried friends to reassure them: "Let them, let them - pups like them need to play!"

"I think they're trying to bite each other," Nokama objected.

"That's a common play-pattern," her brother intervened too quickly.

While he nursed the shoulder she'd punched, the Ga-Turaga turned back to the still cackling beast: "What is this even about? What would elicit a reaction like this?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Krahka howled back, overwhelmed by a fit of giggles for a few more seconds before she could return to a semblance of composure: "Your little Ice Toa is a big ol' show-off, is all! He decided he was good enough to recite a rhyme from memory as his first real attempt at speech, and he-"

"SHAT!" came from the mess of organic matter, promptly followed by a "SAYIT!" followed in turn by a loud frustrated shriek.

"And he did bad. Like really bad."

"SHAT!"

"SAYIT!!"

"NO!"

A loud, almost metallic sound rang out for a second, and then Pohatu yowled as he rolled on his back with his faulty leg that didn't seem to want to heal in his hands, accusing a certain degree of pain to the limb through variations of ahia-ahio-ohiohi-ahiuiah.

Kopaka pointed a finger at him as though he could have stabbed him with it, hissing: "Yu, de-serv, it."

His brother briefly stopped nursing his calf to slam a hand on his bicep in what would have more clearly been the first half of a crass gesture if he hadn't been laying face up in the spit image of a stuck dermis turtle.

"I could give you a penalty for that!" Whenua warned him.

To which the Toa of Stone rightfully protested, squashing his brother's face in his hands: "An ee don ghe uan?"

"By the tail of the Rahi Nui, you are abysmal at talking," Krahka sighed. "And you could do it from the second you were awake..."

"Shat ap, ayam jas fas."

"There is not a single right phoneme in that sentence."

"Ayam jas fas!"

The sound of their bickering did not bother the Onu-Turaga as he mused over the barely comprehensible complaint his brother's Toa had brought to his attention.

He turned to his sister: "What is it that you used to teach in Metru Nui, again?" he asked, "Was it hystory? Or language?"

"A bit of both," she replied, the hint of a twinkle in her eye telling him that she must have caught on to what he was thinking: "Though literature was also on my curriculum."

Whenua made a big show of humming and thinking, even playing with the chin of his mask like he'd once seen some Ko-Metru scholars do when they were so deep in their mostly useless ponderings that they wouldn't even notice where they were going until they smacked their faces against a wall, before litting his pale green gaze finally settle on Kopaka's dark face.

The organic Toa was giving him a look that promised frigid anguish if he even just thought of putting his idea in motion.

"Does your leg hurt very badly, Pohatu?" the Turaga asked with not a single hint of fear towards the silent threat at him, since he knew it was all hot air anyways.

A disgruntled wail was answer enough.

"Then a penalty for Kopaka is indeed in order. I'm certain you're curious about that rhyme they mentioned he could recite, sister?"

Kopaka hissed through gritted teeth: "No."

"You don't get a say in this," Whenua shut him down immediately.

"No!"

"Why, dear brother, I am curious," Nokama replied.

"No!!"

She laughed a little more gently as she noticed the Toa's embarrassed darkening cheeks as he sunk his nails into the mattress, and waved at him reassuringly: "Oh, come now, I've heard all sorts of terrible recitals in my time from Matoran who should have had a much better grasp on their tongue than you do right now, it'll be nothing special! Here - come closer, say it into my audio receptor. That way nobody else will hear. Is that alright with you?"

For a second, considering the way he trembled in his seat and the perfectly immoble seething squint of his eyes, her interlocutor seemed moments away from grasping her mask and disassembling her entire body like a puppy tussling with a porcelain doll.

Then, blushing so furiously that his face might as well have been made of coal, he did lean very close to the Turaga (avoiding eye contact at all costs) and complied.

His lips moved imperceptibly for a few seconds, making almost no sound at all.

He was so quiet in fact that Nokama had to interrupt him and ask, as sweetly as possible: "Could you repeat that a little louder, please? I can't hear a thing."

Head sinking into his shoulders from embarrassment, hearing Krahka's mocking giggles behind him, and feeling Pohatu's eyes pierce holes into his back, the stoic Toa of Ice thought the loudest most terrible curse that could come to his mind in the hopes that it would automatically transfer into their brains and raised his voice just enough for the Turaga to actually make out the words.

If he had gotten a limb cut off it would probably have been so much less painful than this.

The second Nokama pulled away and joined hands in front of her mouth to carefully choose her words he was frankly ready to just spontaneously shatter into a quadrillion pieces.

He did crumble a little when she placed a kind palm on his arm.

"It was a commendable effort, and I praise you for trying your best in your current conditions," she started, so immensely sweet in an attempt to soften the blow that was inevitably coming (she stopped briefly to shut up Krahka's new batch of chuckles with the most killer glare in the repertoire of any being of Water) before finally taking a long breath and admitting: "But that was really, really bad."

Kopaka curled into a ball, lowered himself to the floor, and scuttled under the cot and across the room in pure shame.

Pohatu nearly choked again as he laughed as loud as he could.

He choked for real when his brother landed a whole elbow in his stomach with a pounce that would have hurled the both of them right off the bed if the Rahi present hadn't shifted just in time to contain them - though that could not stop him from contuining to howl his hilarity, all while getting pelted in as many furious slaps across his face and body as the Ice Toa's hands could withstand before they caught on fire.

--

*Organic beings don't have anything to produce most of these sounds with, and even when they can only a few can be modulated. They did discover a variety of purrs and tongue-clicks - and that they can do those weird lip-teeth-tongue squeals - but they can't articulate much else.

[gayrogues]

there is no fucking way that tom king's shitty oneshot, featuring the most out-of-character riddler known to man and a batman who breaks his no kill rule and waterboards people, got nominated for an eisner award...

[hiding-under-the-willow]

You ever write some shit where you're like 'oh yeah I'm totally just describing what this guy is doing in his free time nothing else im just setting the scene it's unnecessarily detailed for no particular reason' and then realize you are in fact just info dumping about some shit you are interested in actually

[knowlesian]

quick indulging in some stede angst while i procrastinate on finishing my piece on e5

i’m consistently fucked up over the blacked out form that used to be stede in the family portrait, and the metaphor it provides about the way stede handled his life and trauma: everything’s pretend. he’s not truly there, he’s living a story in his head in ways both lovely and inadvertently cruel.

lovely: looking at the world and demanding it bend to his delusional belief things could ever be other than they are. that it could be better.

inadvertently cruel: leaving mary and the kids (leaving ed) to wonder: was it me? if i was better, if i had been kinder or a more supportive wife, a better behaved child or a co-captain with less baggage or a better man, would he have stayed? would i have been worth staying for?

stede’s got a whole basketful of reasons he leaves without explaining why in both cases. but he does leave, and he doesn’t explain: those actions ripple out and hurt the people he leaves.

but also, we know stede’s general self-worth is under the fucking ground!!! less than zero!!! he has absolutely no inkling that his absence might affect someone just as much as his presence. he thinks: i am a burden people suffer. when i remove myself from their lives, i am ultimately making those lives easier, in heartbreaking part because he cannot imagine a world in which somebody actually wants him around.

i know i’m a big old hippie and a reconciliation will come faster than we might think truther, but goddamn i just want ed and stede to have the mutual validation moment! because ed needs to hear “it was never about not wanting you or not wanting to be with you, it was a gross cocktail of trauma and old fears and chauncey being a walking nightmare in so, so many ways” from stede and stede needs to hear “you leaving me? fucked me up real good in ways we may need to do some work to overcome, but only because you are somebody i always want to be around, even when things are not pleasant and conflict-free, all forever-like” from ed asa-fucking-p.

[ervona]

this whole turn of events... it's something

[heavenlydreamangelflyhigh]

moms getting competitive w her eating disorder again

[deadsh33p]

oswald is so hard to draw

[bisexualbailorgana]

was watching a documentary about fleetwood mac and now im imagining like a 70s au where ed is like a worn out rock star tired of touring and stede is just starting out in music and trying to make a name for himself and they start out with like a mentoring kind of relationship which develops into them joining a band together and having all kinds of relationship drama a la stevie nicks and lindsey buckingham

[ghostcrows]

that damn web comic is rattling around in my brain ...

[ennuidays]

hate to admit it here but ed bitches make me so mad