he is so very pretty

  • luke skywalker is terrifying. 
  • no, shut up, come back.
  • you have to understand:
  •  to you or me he may not be; he may be all sunshine smiles and corngold hair and the biggest eyes this side of the galaxy, but imagine you’re Dagger (stormtroopers don’t get proper names), firing at a boy, only the bolts never hit. They sing to the side. You think that there’s something wrong with your blaster, maybe, but none of your friends can hit him either. Finest shots in the Empire, you are, but you can’t hit this boy. And he cuts you down. He wields a weapon whose name you’ve never learned and he cuts you down into smoking bloodless bodies and your friends die before you – only he leaves you. Knocks you out with a blow of the Force – and isn’t that a nightmare of its own, unseen hands blotting out your thoughts – leaves you there in the cooling blood of your squadmates.
  •  Imagine that you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a dancer for the Hutt and you hate it, of course you do, but it is a living, a living, and this boy comes in, fresh-faced and young and he says surrender or be destroyed only he and you both know that the Hutt do not and never have surrendered and when he says destroy there’s this grin on his lips, thin and sharp, and he’s kind, of course he is, but –
    • so you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a native of tattooine and like many of your specis you are force-touched and you were a girl, once, a very little girl, and your mother told you tales of krayt dragons who slumbered beneath the sands and gentled their young to their pearl-heavy breasts. krayt dragons are tender mothers, she had said, and it was meant to teach you something of the duality of nature, or to fear those with young to protect, or something; but all you can think is this boy, how he smiles as kind as your mother did, once, but you’re convinced that if you were to cut him down the middle you would find dragon-pearls in his ribs and fire instead of a heart
    • the boy cuts downs jabba’s goons like they are nothing, nothing, and afterwards, afterwards, you sense his sorrow. and somehow that makes it worse.
    • because you say, later, to your mother’s ghost (maybe) or to the desert, he knows that killing people is hard and that weighs on him and he does it anyway and –
    • and, you say, it isn’t as simple as: he makes the hard choices. he knew the hutt would fight. he wanted to burn them down, oh he did, and that sister of his –
2

These are humans from another galaxy. A Pathfinder.

Fandom prefers their mentally ill characters to be like a fairy tale character, cursed to become a monster after spending 100 years with a wicked witch. Fandom loves Bucky Barnes because they see him as this cursed princess. When Bucky shows symptoms they manifest either as Sebastian Stan Looking Sad And Pensive, or as Literally Not In Control of His Own Body.

Tony Stark, a more realistic day-to-day portrayal of mental illness, is pretty widely hated and treated like a villain within the fandom. When Tony displays symptoms, it’s in making poor decisions out of desperation and fear. He goes to extremes. His mistakes made from fear based in his trauma blow up in his face. He displays coping mechanisms by being obsessive and unintentionally endangering people. He uses false arrogance and humor to distance himself, he lingers on his past trauma and it continues to shape his actions, often negatively, years later. He lashes out violently when he is faced with losing the few people he is close to.

Tony’s poor choices should not be excused because of his mental illnesses. He needs to be held responsible. But the way fandom treats Tony versus how they treat Bucky is pretty telling. Fandom doesn’t want mentally ill characters. They want innocent victims who cope in perfectly healthy ways and have never made any mistakes or poor choices as a result of their mental illness or trauma. They want someone they can feel sad about, but not someone with any messy symptoms.

Alright, it was pretty cute.

Love is not Over. 💝