the land god made in anger

Why Vergil’s Aeneas is secretly the hero we’re always claiming to want

If there’s one thing I’ve noticed that’s common to tumblr and non-tumblr classicists, it’s hatred for Aeneas, from benign condescension to flat out antagonism. Admittedly, for many years scholarship advertised Aeneas as nothing more than ‘the founder of the Roman race’, which doesn’t really sell these days. Scholars swept under the carpet the qualities that make Aeneas such a gift of a character - his compassion for others, his pain, his humanity - because it’s not fashionable for a manly hero to have those qualities, right?! 

I cannot take it any longer. I must tell you how we have all been cheated, and why Aeneas is one of the literary figures I most admire.

Nowadays most people study Latin first, and then Greek, and the Aeneid is one of the first things everyone studies. But Vergil’s Roman readers will have already read the Iliad first. So Vergil’s Aeneas is Vergil’s take on a familiar character, and Vergil takes it for granted that we know all about him. What is Aeneas like in the Iliad?

  • Aeneas is honoured by the Trojans as much as Hector is (5.467).
  • Aeneas and Hector are rebuked for letting the allies fight in their place, and it is Aeneas who is addressed first (5.77).
  • Priam does not appear to share his people’s favour for Aeneas (13.461). While Aeneas is brooding over this, he is sought out by Deiphobus: ‘Aeneas, counsellor of the Teucrians, you need to help the army’ (13.463-4).
  • Glaucus appeals to Hector and Aeneas to save the body of Sarpedon, unaware that Zeus has already done this (16.536-47).
  • Hector listens to Aeneas’ advice. Are we going to argue with Hector? Everyone loves Hector, and Hector loves Aeneas. When Apollo rebukes Aeneas because he, Hector and others aren’t fighting (17.327-32), Aeneas recognises the god and tells Hector that it is shameful to retreat into Troy (17.335-41). Hector listens to him, although he doesn’t usually listen to the good advice of Polydamas, but threatens him instead (12.230-50, 18.296).
  • Aeneas is a renowned warrior (8.108). But that doesn’t make him arrogant – Aeneas is sensibly reluctant to try to fight Achilles when he knows that Achilles is stronger (20.89-99), but he is goaded into it by Apollo, who protests that Aeneas too is the son of a goddess (20.104-9).
  • The gods (20.115-31) and the poet (20.158-60) suggest that Aeneas is at least nearly equal to Achilles in valour.
  • Aeneas’ reply to Achilles’ taunts is measured (20.200-58).
  • Even though Achilles is the best warrior, it is by no means easy for him to defeat Aeneas (20.288-90).
  • Aeneas is rescued from his battle with Achilles by Poseidon, who is a pro-Greek god. Poseidon saves Aeneas on the grounds that: he’s unaware of his fate to survive (20.296), has done nothing wrong (20.297), always gives gifts to the gods (20.299), and most importantly is fated to survive (20.300-8). Poseidon’s only rebuke is that Aeneas shouldn’t have listened to Apollo and fought with Achilles; rather, he should stick to the other warriors, since none of the others will be able to kill him (20.331-9). Achilles muses in bewildered disgust: ‘Well then, Aeneas truly was beloved of the immortal gods’ (20.347-8).

In other words, Aeneas is one of the few characters in the Iliad who is rewarded by the gods for being a good person. He is also not allowed to show valour in the way he wants to, like the other heroes, because the gods have plans for him.

In the Aeneid, we learn that Aeneas does not want these plans, but he has to follow them anyway. He does not regain his agency, but the gods’ protection is removed from him by the anger of Juno. How can anyone hate a character who is introduced like this:

This is a song of war, and of the hero who was the first to come,

by fate a refugee, from the shores of Troy to Italy and Lavinian

shores, and who was furthermore tossed all over land and sea

by the violence of the gods, because of cruel Juno’s unforgiving anger;

he suffered much in war, too, so that he might found a city

and bring his gods to Latium, whence come the Latin race,

the Alban fathers, and the walls of lofty Rome.

Muse, tell me the reasons – what slight to her divinity,

what grief made the queen of the gods drive to endure

so many misfortunes, to encounter so many trials, a man famed

for his goodness? Can there be such anger in the minds of the gods?

Vergil has a lot of feelings about Aeneas. You should, too.

‘But Vergil goes out of his way to make Aeneas a drip!’ NO. Vergil writes a realistic character. Vergil’s Aeneas behaves EXACTLY LIKE anyone should expect a war-torn refugee to behave. He is miserable and scared. But he accepts the responsibility put upon him, and he puts this responsibility before his own fears and his own desires. 

Vergil could have written a poem about ‘the founder of the Roman race’ just marching into Italy and lording it over everyone because that was his destiny and that was his right. But Vergil stopped to think, and he thought, ‘Wait, this figure is a refugee. This is a good man who loved his home and his people and would value that quality in others. This is a man who suffered and would not want others to suffer like he did. This is a man who would forget how to want his own happiness.’

I can’t go through the whole Aeneid here, because I could write reams about every scene, but I’ll talk a little about two of the things for which Aeneas is most criticised, which I haven’t already talked about in my previous Aeneid rants (all in my tag here, but especially this one).

Keep reading

You. (Dean X Reader Soulmate AU)

Short Story Description: Set in supernatural universe. You wake up one day, with no memory or knowledge as to how you got in the middle of a forest. All you know is youre a hunter and a good one. Almost getting killed, however, leads to you meeting the boys. Dean, instantly, feels different with you as you feel different with him. You fall in love, and knowing you have the name ‘Dean’ on your wrist calms you. But without being able to tell Dean your name, you panic. Little did you know, Dean already knows your name.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, Castiel

Word Count: 2158

Warnings: ⚠ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠ Angst, fluff, self-hate, self-harm, jealousy

A/N: So, this chapter is pretty intense. When i started this story, it was my venting tool. Now that there’s people who actually like it, I’m happy. The reader is based on me. So alot of things that reader says and describes are self feelings. All of the chapter below is everything thats happened to me regarding reader’s feelings and what she does to herself. I hope this isn’t a trigger for anyone. If so, im so sorry. I hope that you guys like this chapter.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

@supernatural-jackles @angelkurenai @d-s-winchester @ilostmyshoe-79 @lipstickandwhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @calicat79

Chapter Seven


I don’t know how long it’s been since (Y/n) fell asleep. I’m not complaining though. Its quite nice to have her sleeping peacefully near me. I could feel her chest slowly rise and fall. The small noises she made when she moved. The way her face would scrunch up randomly. It was beautiful. As I was driving to the bunker, I pretty much smiled the whole damn way. “You don’t know what you do to me (Y/n), god, how is it that you’re here with me right now ?” I whispered to her because I didn’t want to risk waking her up. I sighed contently, and kept rubbing her soft hair. She moaned. That gave me shivers and a slight erection which I hoped it went the freak away. I cannot let her already know how much control she has over me. I would do anything for her. Seeing her, asleep, at peace, I’d do everything to make sure she always feels and looked this way. But if she’s with me, that will never happen. Dammit, Dean. Be happy the girl is actually here. Your soulmate ! She’s here ! She’s yours. I can protect her. I’ll do everything to make sure she’s happy but that won’t be with me. I drove in silence, listening to (Y/n)’s soft breathing until I reached the bunker. I slowly got out of the car, making sure to not wake (Y/n) up. I went to her side of the car and slowly, picked her up and took her inside. It was night and dark. When I finally got to the door, I somehow was able to open it, carrying precious cargo inside. I slowly walked and took her to her room where I laid her down slowly. I took off her jacket, her shoes and everything else that isn’t considered pajamas. As I was walking out, I almost face planted into Castiel.

“Cas, what the hell ?!”

“Dean, why are you whispering ?”

“(Y/n) is asleep.”


“Cas, we need to talk.”

“OK Dean, but first I need to tell you something.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“Why would I shoot you Dean ?”

“No, Cas, its a figure of speech, it mea- just never mind, what do you need to tell me ?”

“Dean, you aren’t worthy of her love.” That’s when my rage took over. I wasn’t worthy of her love ? I mean, I didn’t want her to be stuck with me, but I’m sure as hell ain’t letting this angel make me look like an ass.

“I’m not worthy ?” As I said this, I realized I couldn’t have said it anymore venomous than it came out.

“No, you’re not. That’s why my name is on her wrist as well. However, I thought I’d be best if she didn’t have me in her life, but I realized she needs me more than she needs you.” Every word that came out of his mouth stung and cut me up inside.

“Well, guess what ? My name was there first. She belongs to me.”

“She was given a second chance. She has a chance to not be doomed. I wish I could’ve realized this sooner. Before everything I did.” I couldn’t stop myself from clenching my jaw so hard, I felt like a Ken barbie doll. My hands immediately went into fists. It took all my might to not punch him right there and then.

“What. Did. You. Do ?” Every word came out angrier than the last.

“I thought it would be best if I erased all of her memories of the last five years. All the years that included me in her life. When we met, when we fell in love, when she had a choice to be with me, but she was weak. Not even my grace could heal her. She was broken inside. She was hurting. I just, I didn’t want her to have memories of those hard times.”

“So, you’re the reason she’s like this ? Does Bobby know ?”


“Ok, well he’s gonna beat your ass.”

“I know he will be angry, but I believed it was for the best.”

“Well, it wasn’t, but you did it, you screwed her up. I’m willing to help her be her again.” And it was in that moment that I realized, I wasn’t going to leave her side. I just, couldn’t. She was my world now. And I was gonna take damn good care of it despite, what everyone, or angel, says. “Well, screw you Cas, I’m gonna be here for her.”

“Dean, I don’t want to fight.”

“I’d fight for her any day.”

“Fine, its war Dean. She will be mine. I will get her and she will be mine.”

“Not if I win her first.”

“What the hell ?” This voice was one that would make me melt, but in this moment, it filled me with fear. It sounded so, broken. “I’m not some item.” My eyes quickly turned to see a beautiful tearstained girl looking at me and Cas. “I’m not some trophy or property to be won and shelved. So you can both go and screw yourselves. ” she quickly pushed past me and ran towards Sam’s room. She slammed the door and I could hear her angrily, telling, practically yelling, to Sam what just happened. I was stunned. I couldn’t speak. I screwed up badly.


“Sam, they were talking about me like if I was some t-trophy or item, they had no respect whatsoever ! And I found out why I can’t remember anything !” Sam just watched you as you walked back and forth and ranted. Sincerely, you had woken and scared the crap out of him. He was worried from the moment he saw you pressed against the door.

“It was Castiel, he did this to me.” Your eyes began to water again, which made it worse. “He said, he s-said I was broken.” You couldn’t stop crying. Sam stood up from his bed right away and engulfed you in a big hug. Thats when you began sobbing. “I, Sam, I have to show you something.” Sam pulled away enough to hold you closely at arms length. You slowly moved back and took the shirt you were wearing slowly off. The moment his eyes landed on your body, they were wide. Full of fear, of mixed emotions, of hurt, of anger, of anything that wasn’t good. You were vulnerable infront of Sam. You had no idea why you trusted him so much. You had only met him the day before, but god, did he feel like that brotherly, father type you ever so needed in your life. His staring and wide eyes made you extremely self-conscious, as if you weren’t already. You began to cry. “Im sick Sam, and I can’t be helped.”

The tears in your eyes wouldn’t stop falling down your face. Sam was breathless. Eventually, you turned on the light only revealing everything else, which made Sam cry with you. He dealt with monsters, with spirits, with demons, he had scars of his own, but he’d be lying if what he saw didn’t break his heart. When you removed your shirt, he was shocked. He didn’t want to do anything. He just didn’t see you that way, and you were his brother’s soulmate. He couldn’t do that. But the moment he saw your bruised, cut up, scarred skin, he couldn’t help but stare, wide eyed. When you said you were sick, it didn’t click to him at first. But the moment he saw your skin covered in lines, so many lines, he knew you weren’t in a healthy state of mind. After a long time of quietness, you explained your theory to Sam. You were a cutter. These, could never be hunting scars. These were from internal battles you always lost too. You concluded, you were depressed. And the jumpiness and uncontrollable panics, was anxiety. It was the only reasonable explanation. Once you had turned on the light, it only made everything much more exposed. Upon your thighs, you had an endless amounts of dark, faded lines going in every direction, and covering, almost, every inch of skin. Your stomach wasn’t a great sight either. It burned you so much to see soo many self harmed places. Your arms weren’t pretty, your stomach neither, you legs were bad, and even, your ankles took a pretty bad beating. What Castiel said was right. You felt broken. You looked broken. You were broken.


After she left to Sammy’s room, Castiel poofed of to God knows where. I was standing alone inside of her temporary room. I couldn’t believe we had argued about her if she was a toy. I wanted to cry. The last damn thing I’d want her to think was that she wasn’t worth every fight. I can’t bare the thought of hurting her, but losing her was worse. She was mine. She was meant to be mine. I have to protect. No, i need to. Shes someone who ive been waiting for my whole life. I just… Dean, snap out of it ! Shell suffer with you, youll break her more. I can’t do this to her. She doesn’t deserve crap like me. Im nothing compared to her. She was worth everything. I cant hurt her. I’ll keep her away. Thats the only solution. I stood up from her bed and slowly walked to my room.


I need to save (Y/n) before he hurts her. She broken. I need to heal her. I need her to be safe. Shes the reason for my existence. Flying to the nearest motel, i stood in the room observing my suroundings. She needs me. I need her. I will fight for her. If Dean will declare war for her, i will fight.


As i fell asleep in Sam’s bed, feeling safe, i felt like crying everything i had inside of me. I hope that everything i believed was the answer, wasn’t. I slowly drifted off to sleep, thinking of what i have dont to myself. The pain, the stupidity, the want for in the moment pleasure. The swift movement of the object, creafting a swift line of red across your skin. The suddent feeling of a sharp object on your arms jolts you awake. You felt the blade cross your skin, again and again. It burned inside. You looked at your arm and it was as clean as it could but the burning, new cut sensation fueled uour body for more. It felt like ecstasy. One minute you were terrified of this sudden hunger for pain, but it made you feel good to know, it was going to be over soon. You slowly stood from Sam’s bed and walked to the kitchen. You looked for a sharp object. You found the knife drawer. You grabbed the sharpest one and sat down, back to the wall. You slowly placed the blade up to your skin, hesitating a few seconds before merely slicing your skin, over and over. You couldn’t control yourself. It felt like you were trapped in yoir brain. Nobody being able to hear you. “(Y/n) ? Wha- (Y/N)!!!” Dean practically pranced to your side. You had cut up both of your arms very badly. You had lost blood, but not enough to be considered fatal.

Dean carried you, practically running to the library. Setting you down on the table, he ran for alcohol and gauze wraps. He had never seen this side of you. It was as if you were in a trance you couldn’t be awoken from. You watched Dean and you screamed from the inside for him to save you, to free you. He didnt hear you. You watched as he cleaned you and wrapped you. You had knocked out unconsciously.


When i heard noise in the kitchen, i thought it was Sam. However, walking into what i saw, was the one thing my mind feared of most: losing her. She had a knife in one hand, and on the other, blood. She was covered in it. She was hurting herself. After cleaning her up, i picked her up softly and took her to my room. I set her down and practically ran for Sam. “SAMMY !”

“Dean, c-calm down.” He immediately stood and reached for my shoulder to get me less tense.

“Sammy, i almost lost her. She almost-” i swallowed the words before saying them. His eyes showed those of concern and pure fear. “She cut herself, badly, and, she has s-scars all over !” Sam stayed quiet. “Sam, why are you quiet ?”

“Dean, she, uh” he couldn’t finish. I saw the tears silently forming in his eyes.

“Shes sick, Dean.” And i swear, in that moment, every ounce of my being came crashing down. My world was broken. She was not ok, i was not ok.

Baby, ill save you. I promise.

Originally posted by gecko-trash

SHOUTOUT TO MY BESTFRIEND @spn-mudkip @spn-mudkip @spn-mudkip

@mrswhozeewhatsis @nitelotus @jensenacklesfuckmeyes @dan-haynes @gabby913 @busybee612 @allinhishands @catastrophic-carrie @secret-stashes

September 1, 1939

by W.H. Auden

     I sit in one of the dives
     On Fifty-second Street
     Uncertain and afraid
     As the clever hopes expire
     Of a low dishonest decade:
     Waves of anger and fear
     Circulate over the bright
     And darkened lands of the earth,
     Obsessing our private lives;
     The unmentionable odour of death
     Offends the September night.

     Accurate scholarship can
     Unearth the whole offence
     From Luther until now
     That has driven a culture mad,
     Find what occurred at Linz,
     What huge imago made
     A psychopathic god:
     I and the public know
     What all schoolchildren learn,
     Those to whom evil is done
     Do evil in return.

     Exiled Thucydides knew
     All that a speech can say
     About Democracy,
     And what dictators do,
     The elderly rubbish they talk
     To an apathetic grave;
     Analysed all in his book,
     The enlightenment driven away,
     The habit-forming pain,
     Mismanagement and grief:
     We must suffer them all again.

     Into this neutral air
     Where blind skyscrapers use
     Their full height to proclaim
     The strength of Collective Man,
     Each language pours its vain
     Competitive excuse:
     But who can live for long
     In an euphoric dream;
     Out of the mirror they stare,
     Imperialism’s face
     And the international wrong.

     Faces along the bar
     Cling to their average day:
     The lights must never go out,
     The music must always play,
     All the conventions conspire
     To make this fort assume
     The furniture of home;
     Lest we should see where we are,
     Lost in a haunted wood,
     Children afraid of the night
     Who have never been happy or good.

     The windiest militant trash
     Important Persons shout
     Is not so crude as our wish:
     What mad Nijinsky wrote
     About Diaghilev
     Is true of the normal heart;
     For the error bred in the bone
     Of each woman and each man
     Craves what it cannot have,
     Not universal love
     But to be loved alone.

     From the conservative dark
     Into the ethical life
     The dense commuters come,
     Repeating their morning vow;
     'I will be true to the wife,
     I’ll concentrate more on my work,’
     And helpless governors wake
     To resume their compulsory game:
     Who can release them now,
     Who can reach the dead,
     Who can speak for the dumb?

     All I have is a voice
     To undo the folded lie,
     The romantic lie in the brain
     Of the sensual man-in-the-street
     And the lie of Authority
     Whose buildings grope the sky:
     There is no such thing as the State
     And no one exists alone;
     Hunger allows no choice
     To the citizen or the police;
     We must love one another or die.

     Defenseless under the night
     Our world in stupor lies;
     Yet, dotted everywhere,
     Ironic points of light
     Flash out wherever the Just
     Exchange their messages:
     May I, composed like them
     Of Eros and of dust,
     Beleaguered by the same
     Negation and despair,
     Show an affirming flame.

A Thief’s Overture (Young!Sam Drake/Reader)

Chapter 3: Mauve

Daaamn Red, back at it with A Thief’s Overture.

Writing this chapter has been a damn rollercoaster, and I can barely believe it’s finally ready for you guys to read.

I’d like to do a special special mention and thank @moselles for her lovely feedback and her immensely useful comments on this fic, because she has no idea how much her words have helped me throughout writing this. So again, thank you, you’re the kind of reader that every writer wished they had.

As always, thank you so much for reading. Your feedback, comments and opinions are always welcome, and always incredibly useful too. So thank you in advance if you do share your thoughts.


xoxo- Red

Word count: 14,058

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

You can also read it on AO3 here!

It always started the same way. Sometimes it was his clothes, or his hair, or the way he walked. 

Today it was his choice of company.

“Look at this moron.” The boy stood about a head taller than Nathan. Steve, he thought was his name. 

“Yeah, look at him. What’s up Morgan? Making friends with the weirdo?” And that was Neil. Steve’s best friend. Slightly shorter, yet considerably stockier than his buddy. 

But what really stood out in them, was that they were grade A assholes. 

“It’s because no one else likes him, dude. Or his stupid street rat brother.” The boys laughed in unison, with Steve pushing Nathan on his shoulder, hard enough to be a provocation.

The nudge hadn’t bothered Nathan enough to retaliate, and he’d continued walking by Y/N’s side. But once the boy mentioned his brother, he’d stopped dead on his tracks.

Some of the kids, already sitting at the tables and eating their food, had started to turn their heads towards the scene taking place right next to them, intrigued.

Nathan was about to say something back, when the girl grabbed him softly by the arm and shook her head in reprobation, trying to let him know starting a fight over this wasn’t worth it. And he had to give in, because she was right. Sam wouldn’t have given a damn what those two idiots said about him.

He resumed his way towards the last table where he usually sat, and then…

“How old were you when your father dumped you here, Morgan? Five? I’m surprised he put up with you for that long.”

The collective laugh that this comment sprawled all around him crawled its way into Nathan’s brain, inside his bones, inside his blood, making it boil. Blue eyes looked up at Y/N, a glance drenched in anger, pleading for permission to take the action he knew he was entitled to. And she held his stare for a second before her fingers slowly released their grip on him. 

She nodded once and Nathan tackled James so suddenly that it never minded the boy was twice his size.

Needless to say all hell broke loose just then, with the majority of the kids at the dining hall banging their fists on the tables at the chant of ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’, and some others crowding around them to witness the show.

Neil soon sprinted to try and get Nathan away from his friend, but Y/N was faster, catching his wrist just in time to prevent him from punching her friend. People often forgot that the girl was the eldest of the kids at the orphanage due to her silent and harmless appearance, but she was still taller and stronger than most kids there.

Hence when she pushed Neil on his chest with both hands to get him away from Nathan, he fell flat on the floor, landing on his back. His eyes followed Y/N as she walked over to him and stared down with contained despise, her upper lip lifting ever so slightly, like she was looking at a bag of garbage left on the street.

Nathan was throwing punches without even looking at what he was hitting anymore, yelling things that would’ve made a sailor turn pale, but he must’ve been landing his hits just fine because one could hear the boy underneath him cry in pain every so often.

But Steve was considerably bigger than him, so any damage he managed to do until then, he received doubled in one single punch that landed on his jaw and made him fall on his side. He found it weird how his ear started to get really warm and go numb before anything else on that side of his face.

“You little shit!” Steve shouted at Nathan, as he struggled to get back on his feet, his ears ringing from the hit he’d just taken. And the older boy was about to land another punch on him when the crowd was dispersed by a tall and dark figure that made its way easily through the orphans.

It was then that Nathan knew he’d screwed up. Big time.

He didn’t know it was sister Agnès’ shift to watch over the kids during lunch time, otherwise he would’ve thought it twice before starting a fight like that one.

Sister Agnès was one of the eldest nuns in the orphanage. She was of French origin, but after so many years of serving there her accent was almost completely gone, and could only be heard clearly when someone angered her. Which wasn’t hard, and happened often. Had she been a deadly sin, she would’ve been wrath, no doubt. 

The woman was tall and skinny, but somehow possessed a deadly strong grip whenever she would grab you by the arm with her bony hands to drag you away. Her temples were high, and her cheeks sucked in, with eyes fairly small although strikingly grey. Altogether she resembled a vulture, in Nathan’s eyes, only missing a curved protruding nose. Hers was small, and thin.

Severe and devote like no other, everyone knew it was bad news whenever she’d show up to look after the orphans, and those were the only days where everyone’s behavior was a thing of excellence. Nothing could be amiss when sister Agnès was around.

All in all, Nathan would rather square up to God any day, than to sister Agnès.

But the mistake had already been made. And they were about to know what angering that vulture of God would get them in exchange.

She needn’t tell the boys to stand up, they promptly got on their feet by themselves as soon as they saw her coming, dusting off their clothes and lowering their heads in shame. All but Y/N, who didn’t seem to know whose presence she was standing in. 

“To my office. Now.” Sister Agnès commanded with a stern voice, and the kids formed an orderly line, all four of them leaving the dining hall immediately. She then landed her deadly stare over the crowd of orphans surrounding her. “Stick your noses back into your food, there’s nothing to see here.”

And just like that, order reigned in the room once more, with the rest of the kids looking as innocent as physically possible while they ate from their plates with tame eyes.

Keep reading

Batman in BVS

The fight between Batman and Superman, noted by @atheistj here, is not supposed to be pretty or funny.

So it’s interesting how much of Bruce’s behavior comes down to sheer anger, but also enjoyment of Clark’s pain. Lines like “breathe it in, that’s fear” and the comment about Clark being here for a reason, “you were never a god, you were never even a man”, etc. In the UE when he drops Clark down to the bottom level Clark cried out when he landed on what looks like a bunch of old radiators etc. I always cringed at that landing but just the added affect of the verbalization of Clark’s pain made me wonder if Bruce placed them at the bottom on purpose. But I hope not. Bruce may not have anticipated that the fight would get to the higher levels, so I’m okay leaning in the direction that he didn’t. Either way, he’s going over the line into enjoyment of another’s pain, and it’s disturbing. Bruce is going further down an already dark path.

But then look at the fight to save Martha. It too is brutal. It too is savage. Bruce shows us where the anger that’s always simmering under the surface emerges, and it’s in his fighting. He’s savage. He doesn’t hold back. He pummels them with his fists and anything else nearby. He lets the anger out but he doesn’t taunt them or enjoy their pain. He simply gives as good as he gets. The criminals aren’t holding back. The criminals are trying to kill him. “They” have killed his sidekick. So he stopped holding back. Makes sense over twenty years.

I’ve seen lots of complaints about Batman’s ethics in this film, but in every altercation except the one with Clark he’s more of an “eye for an eye” mentality. Shoot at him? He’ll shoot back. Stab him? He’ll stab you. Perfectly okay with burning an innocent woman? He’ll puncture your tank and let you burn. But even as far gone as he is, he’s not straight up murdering innocents on the off chance they’ll go bad someday. That’s why the fight with Superman was so crucial and a tipping point. If he’d gone through with it he would have been too far over the edge to save, I think.

The fighting is not supposed to be enjoyable or pretty. I loved that. It’s not supposed to be in the end. Fighting begets more fighting.
Don’t Leave me: Kylo Ren Imagine

I laid on my large bed with silk sheet underneath me. There was a large window that didn’t open but I could see the galaxy from it, but I could never step foot to the outside world. I stood up slowly walking over to the window,the cold marble floors seemed like ice at my bare feet. The planets seemed so close, but yet they were far.

How I wished to be out there then to be suck in this makeshift prison cell. It looked nothing like a prison cell, it was actually nice. A huge king sized bed with dark silk sheets and too many pillows. The floor was a beautiful marble that looked almost like the galaxy itself. The walls where a deep maroon color, with one large window that almost took up the whole wall. There was a dresser filled with beautiful clothes and a door to a small bathroom. There was a large bookshelf that took up most of my wall space. There were too many book to fit on the shelves so there were bunches of stacks of books around the room.This breathtaking room was my prison cell. I’ve seen nothing but there four walls for the last few years. 

Keep reading

Moon and Thunder

Warning: cussing, slight angst

Pairing: ? x reader, Thor, Tony, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Bucky, Wanda, Steve, mentions Loki

A/n: Someone requested a part 3. Let’s see where this takes me.

Tag list: @captainamericasbeautifulbutt @shamvictoria11 @princeofsassgard

Always Master

               “(Y/n)?” Steve looked at you shocked. You looked almost the same as before you died.

               “This is Selene. My mother took her in after she was reborn.” Everyone’s faces looked blank, you couldn’t read them at all.

               “Brother, why are they staring at me like this? Did you not tell them that I was alive, in Asgard?” That’s when everyone looked at Thor.

               The back of the jet closed and it started to take off. You felt a tad light headed as the jet took off towards the Avenger’s tower. No one said anything as they took their seats. Steve kept looking at you like he’d seen a ghost. Clint and Nat kept giving Thor a death glare. Tony, well Tony was about to strangle Thor since he had to carry your lifeless body back to the jet. Bruce, Sam, and Bucky didn’t know how to take all this in. You were reborn, gods know how many months ago, and Thor knew the whole time.

               “Brother, where are we going? Does mother know of this?” Thor nodded his head. “Why did you not tell our friends of my rebirth? Did you think that they had not the right to know?” Thor stood up from his seat, he towered over you but you stood your ground. “Do not try to make me fear you, Thor. You may have the power of thunder but you still don’t know what Allfather gave me. Mother refused to even tell me.” Thor sat back down, knowing that you could easily over power him.

               “You’re right sister. Mother knows of your gift but you have refused to even figure it out.”

               “I don’t need any gift to overpower an opponent.” You were starting to get mad, Thor had keep you from your friends and them from knowing anything about you. “I know my gift brother, unlike you or Loki, I am a mere demi-god now. Allfather has given me the title of the Moon Goddess. Mother thought it was appropriate. Mother knows more than you think brother.”

               “I know she does. I even know more than you do.” That was something he shouldn’t have said. You balled up your fist and it connected to his face seconds later.

               “How dare you belittle me?! You, begged your father to bring me back. You have lied to our friends for months, lied to them about me. I know more of this realm than any Asgardian in Asgard or in any of the nine realms.” Thor rubbed his jaw, it took everyone to keep you from swinging at him again. “The all mighty thunder god brought to his knees by the moon goddess.” You pulled away from everyone and walked to the other side of the jet. You took one of you daggers out and started to twirl it around your fingers. You were so into the dagger twirling around your fingers, you didn’t notice a presence next to you.

               “Thor means well.” You looked up and saw Nat sitting next to you.

               “He always means well. He didn’t have to lie about me to you. He knew I worried of you all. I remember all of you, you were my family.”

               “We still are.” She placed her hand on your knee. “When you were reborn, what happened?”

               “Most of my memories were wiped away, I remember you guys and how we all were a big happy family.”

               “Do you remember if you had feelings for anyone before you died?” You looked at her confused.

               “Honestly, I don’t remember if I did. Everyone here felt like family. Since being reborn, I have wanted to feel love from someone. I just need to find the right person.” Your expression changed from confused to longing. Since being reborn you knew what love was but you had no memories of loving anyone before you died. “I know why Thor didn’t tell you that I was alive.”

               Nat looked at you confused, “Why, none of us have been the same. This is actually the first mission all of have been on together as a team. Bucky hasn’t really been out of his room, Bruce and Tony have been in the lab barely coming out themselves, Sam hasn’t been himself, Wanda just starting to get hold of her powers again, Clint and I, well we have been throwing ourselves into any and all missions.”

               Before anything else was said, you quickly wrapped your arms around the red headed assassin next to you. “All I ever wanted was for you to be safe that is why I did what I did. You were the sister I always wanted and I couldn’t see you hurt.” Nat wrapped her arms around you as you buried your face into her neck. You felt tears run down your cheeks as she held you. “I’m so sorry for causing such pain to my dearest friends.”

               “We have you back now and no one can take you away.” Clint walked over to where you and Nat were sitting, sitting on the other side of you. You released Nat and quickly hugged him.

               “I missed you both dearly.” Clint placed a kiss on the top of your head as he hugged you. “I think mother would understand if I decide to stay here.”

               “Thor’s your brother?” You nodded your head slightly as you sat normally in your seat.

               “Mother took me in after I was reborn. Thor had told her of everything that I did here and the rest is I guess history.” You looked over at Thor as he talked to Tony and Steve. “Thor helped me train and now I’m better than he is. I’m well known in Asgard as the best warrior in all nine realms with any weapon.”

               “You mentioned that you had a gift. What kind of gift?”

               “I don’t use it in battle on Asgard but I can create a bow that looks like a crescent moon and the arrows are, well that’s something I have figured out yet. I also have a few other tricks up my sleeve.” Clint and Nat looked at you, surprised. Neither of them would have guest something like that. “Unlike Thor, I can fly without flinging that damn hammer around.” You couldn’t help but laugh. But that was short lived when shouting came from the other side of the jet. You looked at where the sound was coming from and saw Thor trying to beat the shit out of Steve.


*Thor’s POV*


               This is why I didn’t tell any of them she was alive. He was the reason. My fists clenched at my sides as Steve told me what had happened as I was training Selene in Asgard. How he didn’t notice that she was gone, how she didn’t walked around the tower or even watch that magic box called a television. He let himself be distracted by some other female who can hold no candle to my sister Selene. She was one of the only reasons I came back to Midgard.

               “How could you not notice her presence was gone?” My anger was growing. (Y/n) was what she was called here before she died protecting Lady Natasha.

               “I told you Thor, I let myself be distracted and I let her push herself away from me. I should have chosen her over Sharon.” He chose this Sharon over Selene. How could anyone chose someone else over her. She is one amazing warrior and had always had a big heart.

               “How long.” Steve looked at me confused. “How long did it take you to realize she was not there?”

               He looked at me, not really wanting to answer my question. That was all I needed to know. My fist connected with his jaw, knocking him back. My fists then connected to his stomach and his face once again. Before I could hit him again, Selene stood in front of me.

               “Brother, what is the matter you attack your friend?” Her eyes shone like stars in the night sky like always. She needed to know the truth about why I kept her from everyone.

               “He is the reason I refused you coming to Midgard.” She looked at me confused.

               “What do you mean brother, what did he do?”

               “You don’t remember since some of your memories were erased. You were infatuated with this man but he chose someone else over you. Lady Natasha told me how heartbroken you were.”

               I could see everything was starting to sink in as she looked at me. Many emotions passed over her eyes, hurt, sadness then finally anger. The last time I saw this anger was when Volstagg told her he was a greater warrior than her.

               I felt this jet land, I couldn’t have praised the gods any more than before. As the back of the jet opened, Selene took off into the tower. Lady Natasha and Brother Barton followed her along with Lady Wanda.


*Normal POV*


               You made your way through the tower, making your way towards the training room. You knew Nat, Clint and Wanda were following close behind you but you didn’t care at the moment. Once you reached the training room, you stripped your armor off along with all your weapons on your body. You had daggers, a hammer, your long sword, and a couple throwing blades. You waved your hand and your clothes changed into a pair of shorts and a loose fitting top. You walked over to the sand bag and started to work out your anger.

               “Why don’t you spar with me to work out your anger?” Nat came up behind you but was still back far enough if you swung your fist around, she wouldn’t get hit.

               “You are tired from the battle Nat, you need your rest.” You stopped swinging our fists and turned to look at her. “Do you know why Thor attacked Steve then saying he was the reason why Thor kept me away?” Nat looked at you and you knew this was going to ether piss you off or hurt you.

               “Yes, I do. If I tell you, promise me you won’t do anything you’ll regret.” Nat held her hand out to you and you took it. She led you to a bench.

               You sat there for what felt like hours as she told you about everything. From how long it took Steve to notice you weren’t there and the reason why it took him so long to how everyone was just barely starting to see more of each other. Your heart hurt from all the pain you put your friends through.

               You got up from your seat and walked over to Wanda, pulling her in for a quick hug while whispering how sorry you were for leaving her. She squeezed you tightly before letting go. You ran out of the room and made your way to the lab. Doing the same to Bruce and more so to Tony then you went to find Sam and Bucky, repeating the same thing to them. When you saw Steve, you didn’t hold back. You slapped him across the face before walking over to Thor.

               “Brother, I’m sorry for yelling at you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling each other into a hug.

               “It is alright, sister.” He pulled away from you. “I hear Brother Stark is throwing one of his parties tomorrow night. Will you be attending?”

               “I would need a dress for it but I don’t see why not.” You started to walk away from Thor then turned and looked at him. “I’ll be there as long as you have mead on you, brother.” Thor smiled at you as you walked off.

               Tomorrow will be fun.