Thinking about that fine line Jonathan walks re: Lonnie's impact on Will. Wanting to insulate Will from Lonnie's rejection and soften that blow as much as he's able, but not wanting to give him false hope and feed a dangerous fantasy where Lonnie has a place in his life.
Because who wants to look into those big, sad eyes and tell their little brother that Dad doesn't love him? That he will never care, and that Will is nothing to him. But he also wants Will to be prepared, and he doesn't want to lie to him. He respects this kid and he wants to impress that upon him--the world may not, but Jonathan will always respect his intelligence and ability to think for himself, and he will nurture that, would never hamper it even supposedly for Will's own good.
So he makes it about conformity. There's a life lesson in that. It's not just that Dad doesn't give a shit--it's that Will should be true to himself because fuck everyone who doesn't see it that way.
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thinking about scully sitting on the floor of mulder’s apartment just holding him as he wept after his mother’s death and after she told him through tears that it’s time to stop. it’s time to stop looking for his sister.
and how she had already told him that once, seven years earlier, a month into their partnership, when she chased him out of a police station and told him to stop running after his sister because it won’t bring her back.
she called after him to just stop, because she’s the scientist, and that’s the logical conclusion that she had reached.
except later that night, he told her why he does it. that he’s been closing his eyes and walking into that room, thinking maybe, when he opens them, his sister will be there, since he was 12 years old. “every day” of his life.
and she never told him to stop again.
until seven years later, when she rocked him on the floor, and then the next day was asked “why do you want to bring all this back up now?” and answered, “someone owes it to mulder.”
so she started looking. she reopened files, she tracked down records, she went to his mother’s house to dig through the trash. she confronted CSM about what he knew, she flew to california, she held hands and prayed.
she looked at mulder and said “it hurts me to tell you this” and stayed steady in the truth anyway. she listened to him read to her about a 14-year-old girl’s pain, held his hand and told him to get some sleep. she stayed up, kept looking, and found it. “i got it, mulder. i couldn’t believe it when i saw it. it was like it was looking for me.”
the police report from when samantha ran away.
she read the hospital records, went to the home of the nurse who signed the intake report, asked him if he wanted her to go herself.
she left him by the car and walked up and knocked, asked about a patient in 1979. she listened as the nurse described how “you couldn’t forget her or how frightened she was. scared for her sweet life.” and the man who came for her, who wouldn’t put out his cigarette.
earlier the day before, she had been told to just stop. “word of advice, me to you: let it be. you know, there’s some wounds that are just too painful ever to be reopened.”
and she had responded, “this particular wound has never healed. and mulder deserves closure.”
after seven years, she knows now, that you can’t just stop chasing. she knows how heavy grief is, and she‘s seen the effects of carrying it alone. of walking into the worst night of your life every day, eyes closed, hopeful.
you can’t just stop, and you can’t really have closure, but you can help someone carry it.
and ultimately, that’s what made this the end of the road. sometimes the heaviest burden of grief is feeling that pain is all there is left of someone, and that alleviating it would be to abandon them.
scully’s right, this wound has never closed, but there’s freedom in shared remembrance and shared dedication. she doesn’t ask him to stop until he’s ready to know the truth, and she’s willing to find it. she doesn’t ask him to rest until it’s safe for him to, because it’s not forgetting samantha. she knows and she remembers.
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Between commissions I finally managed to finish this OC set of parent characters! If the looks aren't enough to show you who their kid is, the background colors match them ^_^ but of course more details below!
Name: Thuban
Name origin: The former pole star, before the north star (Polaris), it's name means "Large snake" and is referred to as the “Dragon's tail”
Pronouns: He/him
Age: N/A
Relation: Raised Polaris, though they're not related by blood and have a somewhat distant relationship, until he suddenly went MIA
Weapon: Spear (Same as Polaris's)
Ethos (Power): N/A
Flaw power is based on: N/A
Notes: Make no phallic jokes about the large snake thing and you'll be rewarded
Name: Ananke
Name origin: A moon of Jupiter, named for the mythological spirit of necessity, inevitably, and compulsion
Pronouns: She/her
Age: -
Relation: Bella's mother, she raised her to be a warrior
Weapon: Bardiche
Ethos (Power): Indomination (The ability to freeze the movement of objects and people, and lock them in place)
Flaw power is based on: Her strict enforcement of obedience through authoritarianism, and a lack of concern for the wishes of others
Notes: She believes in tough love. It's better in the long run to give your kid strength rather than affection.
Name: Rhea
Name origin: A moon of Saturn named after the Titan known as the mother of the gods
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 38
Relation: Saiph's mother, though she gave him up to the guild when he was very young
Weapon: None
Ethos (Power): None
Flaw power is based on: N/A
Notes: Was unable to take care of a baby at the time, and gave Saiph to the guild. She wishes she'd visited beyond that but it's probably too late now...
Name: Arche
Name origin: One of Jupiter's moons, it's name comes from the muse of new beginnings and is associated with springtime
Pronouns: He/him
Age: 7
Relation: Saiph's half-brother. Neither currently knows the other exists
Weapon: None
Ethos (Power): None
Flaw power is based on: N/A
Notes: He's just a little guy. He likes flowers and playing with toys. He wants to be a cool hero like his dad
Name: Poerava
Name origin: A star in Tucana, the Maori word for a black pearl of mystical beauty and perfection
Pronouns: She/her
Age: -
Relation: Al's mom. She mostly raised him on her own while her husband was with the knights.
Weapon: None
Ethos (Power): None
Flaw power is based on: N/A
Notes: Probably the best parent of the bunch if we're being real.
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the twist of fate being that spain winning the world cup was, perhaps, exactly what was necessary to happen in order to clean up the rfef, because….
they got away with it. they were in the clear. they achieved their goals of ridding the team of the ‘problem’ players, and forcing the others into grovelling, humiliating, public compliance. they had the perfect “see? we were right all along. we’ve been vindicated!” playbook in their back pocket. they had a stable enough pr stance, and world cup to parade around in the defiance of any noise around them
but they literally just could not stop themselves from being absolute weirdos for one evening. it’s incredible. and frankly, a little scary
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pure vanilla cookie analysis- major CRK spoilers ahead!!
it must be so wild to find out that the power you earnt, the ability bestowed upon you for being pure and worthy, is nothing more than a fraction of everything you fight against. to watch the light of freedom be corrupted by the realisation your kind aren't meant to live, and see what should encourage peace be warped into a motive for destruction. to know that the devastation sent through the land is because you couldn't uphold your promise of keeping it all from going too far. to wait for the night of the crescent moon and attempt to fix it all, only to wind up with nothing more than a curse instead and nobody to blame but yourself. to be attacked in your homeland, to watch a war break out that you know is your fault, and to have the only way to stop it be to sacrifice your own power, the power you've used to bring together your world. to have it all taken away of your own volition in what should have been a final fight, to attempt to banish yourself and the one you love most for the good of all, to send away your people and your kingdom and everything you know. to try to isolate yourself for an eternity in a final, desperate act of sacrifice even though you know you cannot die. to expect that to be the end, only to go down in history as a legend and wander alone years later with no memory of your past and the last remnants of your soul appearing through your dreams. to wonder how you came to be, how you're still alive, then to remember it all and regain an identity that has lost its allure to your failures.
to be reminded of your mistakes by the harbingers of all that you oppose, to be easily incapacitated by reminders of how little purity you have left. to set out to reunite with others of your stature, your friends, to find those who share a common goal of protection, and find out just how deeply this power has corrupted their lives. to regain your strength and watch as the person who used to be your closest friend repeatedly pushes you away, insistent that you are but an obstacle she needs to be rid of, to find that same friend's soul split in two. to be a healer, to have the designated role of repairing and cleansing, only to struggle for a solution that will fix wounds that seem far too deep to close. to cause damage and harm and devastation despite wanting anything but, and see those who stayed steadfastly, fatally loyal to you fall at the hands of a monster you crafted. to search for the truth because you are the truth, you have been since you faced the trials and passed, and now it's up to you to find a way to fix this.
to learn that more of your own soul could be used to bring part of a loved, corrupted hero you have missed more than anything back, and to offer it up without hesitation regardless of the impact it could have on yourself. to be denied further sacrifice and see her return, only for her to push you away even now, desiring solitude rather than the solidarity you have been craving for years and years and years. to discover that your power is not your own, that it once belonged to another, that it was salvaged from corruption and destruction and illusions. to encompass light and purity and selflessness and leadership and truth, only to find out that you are nothing more than hastily purified deceit. to be selected as the one to stop the chaos and hatred, to have the fate of the world rest on your decisions.
to see the original wielder of your power be released and know that all you have is the result of another's descent into darkness. to see that your predecessor is a cookie and a beast all at once, to know that they are infinitely stronger than you and back in your world, among those you love. to be the parallel to a monster, the immovable object to an unstoppable force, to reflect deceit with a light of truth you can no longer truly trust. to discover your values are not inherently good, that they are born of the aftermath of evil, that you are simply a tiny fragment of unimaginable power where you used to be considered one of the strongest beings in existence. to see the cycle repeat in the one you care for most, and watch her blame herself for the horrors that have passed and the horrors to come, and wish you had prevented all of this while you still could. to see that your life is built on a throne of lies, and face off against a puppetmaster who shows undeniable, damning similarities to yourself, even down to his appearance. to be alone and yet not, to have power and know it has been corrupted before, to see what you have the potential to become if ever your soul begins to regress. to have back half of what you have so dearly missed, but at what cost? to know you must defend, must remain good, and try not to fall as the weight of your entire world settles heavily on your shoulders, because you are a protector, a ruler, a symbol, a hero, a healer, an embodiment of knowledge and greatness and power and truth, even as the very foundation of all you thought you knew continues to crumble bit by bit. wild.
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okay but
Andrew doesn't trust Neil once Neil is back from Baltimore. How can he?
The guy lied to his face time and time again, even when accepting to say the truth.
And Andrew only finds out once all the lies Neil had kept came back to bite him in his ass.
After all the trust Andrew had given him with HIS OWN PERSONAL TRUTHS, Neil goes and breaks his trust over and over and over again.
How can Andrew trust him at first? How can Andrew not feel betrayed by that?
Just imagining Andrew discovering the first parts of Neil's lies (through another person, mind you) must have been like a punch in the guts.
Yet Andrew moves on quickly enough from the pain because there's a bigger issue and it's that Neil is missing and he's in danger and Andrew is once again not keeping his part of the promise even if it technically doesn't stand anymore. And he has priorities.
Sure enough, his priorities have nothing to do with how much he himself is hurting.
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How do you guys think Tails reacted when he first learned about the ugly duckling tale?
Like, do you think he learned about it when he was still alone, maybe he heard little drops of the story and got enough of a peek of a book to learn about the ending. And him, as a little four year old kid getting mocked, hit and abused because he was a little diferent was constantly waiting for things to get better, for him to get better? To change and finally be good enough to be loved?
Or do you think Sonic told him about that story, maybe read it to him a little after he met him, when he just got to see him as a little brother?hoping to cheer him up, giving him his own interpretation of the story, perhaps telling him that he doesn’t need to change anything to be loved, because just like the duckling, there was never anything wrong with him, he never had to change who he was, he was always good, the rest of the world just couldn’t see it.
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