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#and yet so powerful
altargarden · 11 months
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me upon reading the line "anubis was heavily worshipped because, despite modern beliefs, he gave the people hope."
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless. 
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 
He won’t let anyone take it from him. 
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 
Bruce reaches a hand out. 
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 
The orb in his hand moves. 
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark. 
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 
If anyone can, it’s Batman. 
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
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roxirinart · 24 days
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"Yes! Show me the power of the Red Crown! I have missed it so..."
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bluerosefox · 9 months
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No Longer In Service
Okay
Okay
hear me out
Ghost King Danny Summoning!
The heroes fail to stop it, everyone is panicking, they feel like they’ve truly failed to stop it. etc etc
EVERYONE is ready to fight for their final life.
They’re as ready as they can be to go against something so evil JLD are scared of it.
SO when the dome that was sealing them away from the summoner finally shatters they are expecting some huge eldritch being, something made of pure nightmares... Only...
Only to find an old tape recorder in the middle of the summoning circle...
Everything is dead silent. No one moves...
Then it clicks on and makes a loud noise.
The noise?
It was the no longer in service beep.
“We’re, not, sorry.” a teenage voice began after the beep ended, startling everyone as they weren’t expecting this at all “But the Ghost King you are trying to reach is no longer in service or rather King anymore. Thus any big evil world ending plans you have made will not be approved during my reign. Please, get a life and try to actually live it because I will not be ending anyone's or mass genocide anything... Also to the really insane Fruitloop that tried summoning a being with the warning of "will cause the end of your world". I am the Ghost King now, eventually everything and everyone will enter my domain regardless of who, when, how, or why. That is something I can wait for, I got no reason to speed it up.... So have a pleasant day and enjoy being arrested or ended for doing this dumb summoning if you decided to do this in front of like everyone in your world or something... Goodbye!”
The world went silent after that.
That...
None of them were expecting that at all.
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egophiliac · 10 months
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IT'S BUNNY TIME EVERYBODY
(feat. Dilla)
(bugle accompaniment by Yuu)
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maranull · 2 months
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anyway, Elden Ring is about love and hope
Marika burns everything she has build out of sorrow
Ranni banishes the Outer Gods and also fucks off the Lands, giving agency back to the normal beings of the Lands
Fortissax endlessly fights Death for his friend/lover
Melina burns herself and Erdtree in hopes of a better world in the hands of the Tarnished
Blaidd fights against the very reason he was created out of love for his sister
Ranni and Rykard always keep an eye on their mother, protecting her
Radahn evokes so much love from his troops that they organise a whole festival to give him a honorable death even in his madness
Radahn learns an entire new school of magic in order to still ride his favourite horse
Boc's love for his mother, his mother's love for him
How all but two endings are build on the hope that this new era (whatever it might be) will be good
Miquella attempting to create an whole new world-tree to host the forsaken and the damned
Miquella turning on the faith he was raised and even believed in to an extent, when it was unable to cure his sister's curse
The Cleanrot's loyalty to Malenia and their endurance of the Rot, only to stay in her service
Malenia marching through the entire continent in search of her brother
Finlay traveling all the way back on her own, carrying the incapacitated demigod on her back
Tanith's love for Rya
Dialos' entire questline
Edgar being driven mad after his daughter dies
Vyke embracing, to a point, the Frenzied Flame in order to save his finger maiden
or you know, that's just how I see it
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ghostreblogging · 6 months
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Just some random ass au.
Like what if Danny's main language becomes ghost speak. So ghost speak is like a magic language. Meaning when using this language and putting intent into it you can do magic.
But still he can work around it since all he has to do is be super casual about every word he says. So it wasn't a problem
Until it comes to light that anything Danny writes becomes a magic spell, because he's in all of his half dead glory and is now a native to the language . Since Danny is writing and has an intent. Like pass this as a good essay for his class.
So like every school assignment becomes a mini magic scroll. Which every one of them is either luck magic or whatever things he had to write. Like he had to write about marine biology. And ended up with a paper that spews out water.
Even computers don't help. Since technically unknowingly he's still writing it in ghost speak just romanized. So it's a little bit better but still.
Anyway. This becomes a huge problem when a new nobody rogue tries to use his school assignments bunched together with staples as a magic tome.
In other news , when the bats finally get the powerful magic tome the new unknown was using they are faced with subfar school assignments. Like graded. The mini tsunami spell is a paper on ocean currents.
Well at least it's super easy to find the maker of the tome.
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darkeneddawning · 10 months
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Escaped clone au
You know all those fics where Danny and Damian are twins but everyone first assumes Danny must be a clone? How about an au where Danny is Damian's clone who escaped the League after he was assumed dead. Damian could even have been the one to have "killed" him, back when Danny was a newly created, fully brainwashed clone minion and trying to kill Damian himself.
Danny gets adopted by the Fentons and canon goes on as normal, until Dan. Witnessing what would happen to the world should he turn evil really drove home to Danny how dangerous he is.
Even if he was confident he could be trusted with his absurd amount of power (which he isn't), what if the League of Assassins found out about him? Does he still have programming triggers from his evil assassin clone conditioning?
So, Danny does the responsible thing: he goes to Batman to turn himself in.
Cue Danny showing up on Bruce's doorstep with ghost hunting equipment, intel on the afterlife, and an almost unbelievable backstory. Somehow he still managed to be more well-adjusted than Damian.
More thoughts under the read more
Here's how I'm thinking Danny leaving the League went down:
After surviving his wounds but failing his mission, Danny (then an unnamed potential Damian replacement) knew there was no point in returning to the League. As a failure, he was meant to be disposed of. He even thought of simply allowing himself to perish, since that was what the League would do.
But he couldn't help but feel as though that would be a waste of a resource. Surely he could be of more use to the League alive than dead?
That tiny bit of rebellious logic is what caused Danny to go into hiding, only living on based on the off chance he would find opportunities to further the League's goals. Obviously, that mentality didn't last long after being exposed to the real world and meeting one Jazz Fenton.
Being adopted by the Fentons was the best cover Danny could have asked for, since any odd behavior he couldn't hide while he was learning how to be "normal" was totally overshadowed by the sheer bizarre eccentricity of his new parents. He was still the neighborhood weird kid, but even that was a major upgrade from disposable tool, so Danny considered it a win.
Anyway, if anyone likes this idea, please feel free to have at it! Interpret it as you please :)
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ninjautistic · 5 months
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I don't remember this but HOLY FUCKING SHIIIIIITT LLOYD WAS CONFIRMED TO BE AT LEAST 9 YEARS OLD HERE AND HE WAS ABLE TO DO THAT??? JESUS FUCK
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queerly-autistic · 6 months
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Screeching my way back onto tumblr to yell about the fact that Ed is clearly devastated by Izzy's death but he chooses queer joy and peace with the man he loves over running off to sea for vengeance and that's an im-fucking-portant sign of his healing and recovery.
When Zheng offers him revenge, he sort of half-heartedly agrees with 'yeah I suppose I wanna kill that guy', and that half-heartedness comes from the fact that he's not feeling it. He's feeling SAD, he's feeling GRIEF, but rather than quashing them under the boot of anger and violence, he's letting himself sit in those emotions and FEEL them, properly.
ED IS SAD AND HE'S SITTING WITH HIS SADNESS AND ALLOWING HIMSELF TO BE SAD AND THEN HE CHOOSES LOVE AND AN ATTEMPT AT SOME SORT OF PEACE RATHER THAN BLOODSHED AND VENGEANCE I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW IMPORTANT THAT IS.
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barbarian-angel · 2 months
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The biggest fuckery the universe pulled was making me so goddamn attractive and also aroace. I’m sorry everyone that I’m soo fucking beautiful and pleasant to be around but please I am begging you. Don’t fall for me! It’s a trap! I will not reciprocate like you want!
On my knees in the most non-sexual way
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thewhizzyhead · 6 months
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WAIT I WANNA BRING UP ANOTHER THING ABOUT HOW BULLYING IS ADDRESSED IN NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE. one thing I really liked about how Max is shown as a bully is his talk with Pete at the Pasqualli's parking lot. When Pete tries to stand up to Max, Max pushes him down and emphasizes that Pete isn't a loser because of his own qualities - rather, Pete is a loser because Max simply said so.
Of course we can attribute this to Max's god complex but I think that this point in particular is less than often really brought up in teen-centered media featuring bullying: that bullying exists not because of nerdy behavior or whatever the fuck, but because bullies will it into being. And to have a BULLY of all people say that out loud - to have the main villain point out the root of their behavior without showing any kind of shame whatsoever - showcases just how much of a menace Max is.
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*tries to organize my thoughts*
*remembers i'm not in school and therefore beholden to neither heaven nor hell nor any man's grading system*
*joyously shredding & tossing all my carefully arranged 3x5 mental notecards into the air like so much beige confetti. raising my arms in victory, cheering raucously until i accidentally inhale bits of homemade confetti*
(*coughing up itty bits of paper like a cat evicting a hairball with a firm understanding of tenants' rights*) wait wat happens next
#i marie kondoed my thoughts and *i* feel great. but now my stream-of-consciousness has escaped containment#so many innocent bystanders at stake#every time i try to organize my thoughts i run out of plastic bins and have to make a trip to the container store where i get even more dis#racted so. you can't just hand me THIS brain and NO catalogue OR library classification system#and expect me to single-handedly sort through all this nonsense? bad form but fucking form not in my job description#aNYways. formal education sure did a FUCKING NUMBER on us huh#(a number i measure not in gpa or dollars of student debt.#but in the number of therapy sessions & medical debt it will take to recover.)#seriously folks. our education systems are...innately traumatizing for a huge number of students. and we NEED to address this.#the fact that it is culturally common for adults to have anxiety nightmares about school/exams...even decades later?#that is not cute. it is Alarming.#no one--much less entire generations--should be spending their developmental years in an environment of chronic stress & pressure & strain#and yet that is the reality for millions and millions of pre-teen and teenage and young adult students#this isn't healthy and it serves and empowers NO ONE#...except of course the many exploitative educational & financial & debt-collecting institutions thriving from the current balance of power#and of course it's a nefarious and powerful way to sabotage/erase the middle class#which billionaires and the wealth-inequality creators they finance couldn't possibly have any noteworthy interest in whatsoever#it's not like there's an elite group of people with huge financial incentives to drain/steal resources from the masses...#anyways sorry for going all Conspiracy Theory on you.#obviously the billionaires who control the vast majority of our resources and news and political campaign funding#are not tied to every single itty bitty social issue and i'm a silly billy to imply it#please tell elon musk to ignore this tweet i am so subservient and acquiescent#mr musky u r so good at inheriting slavery-built mining fortunes & buying other people's companies#& building rocket ships & fancy cars that do NOT explode/catch fire & also NOT running billion dollar companies into the ground#mr musky u r so talented genius billionaire playboy with 10 kids and ex-wives who find you creepy af babe u r basically iron man
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notemaker · 2 months
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The ringmaster and the amphitheater. The chessboard and the player. Round and round they go.
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tarufai · 2 months
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egophiliac · 10 months
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still absolutely losing my mind over Lilia
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