#and that’s why nobody cares about him unless they ship him with someone *trying not to shake my head in disapproval*

[poppyseed799]

Not caring about a character -> finding a ship with that character and you really like the ship -> start caring a whole lot more about the character -> become obsessed with the character outside of the ship you originally liked them for -> start getting mad that nobody cares about the character outside of shipping -> realize -> cycle continues

[marigold-hills]

day 10: making love | @wolfstarkinktober2024 | 3993 words

MINORS DNI - NSFW - EXPLICIT

(also: crying, spit as lube, touch-starved Sirius)

Also on AO3 here

****

The signal takes twelve years to reach Earth.

There are many colonies now. Some stay in close touch, sharing news, sharing commercial routes. They’re an extension of the life already thriving on the home planet; separated by distance but keeping trade and communication alive.

Not Proxima Centauri b.

Remus remembers reading about it when the colony was established. When Black Industries had revealed themselves to be little more than a cult and left Earth behind to start a new, pure human race.

There was nothing from them. Until now.

The colony has collapsed. Send help, the voice said, then twenty two seconds of static silence. Then: please. 

Chances are there is nobody there anymore. That’s what Head Command cited, when they ruled out the possibility of sending search and rescue. The message was sent twelve years ago, the admiral said, whoever sent it, they’re dead by now. 

But those twenty two seconds played on repeat in Remus’ head. He woke up hearing them, fell asleep replaying them. Then, one morning, the final word, the please, appeared in his dream, and he knew he had to do something.

He’s had some favours he’d scrounged up over the years. Things he never thought to cash in, because what for? He didn’t mind covering the odd shift or hiding the odd miscalculation that a higher-up missed. Sure, there was the time when Admiral Dumbledore came to him to fly someone out of the Sol system under the radar. Sure, Moody once did ask him for help derailing legislation through less than stellar means.

As it turned out, he’s had quite a few people he could press on, lean on, to make it happen. Nobody understood why he cared so much. He didn’t understand either.

But he was given a ship, and indefinite time off work (a sabbatical, they called it - like pilots ever had those). He went alone because that was the deal. Nobody is to know. This is a waste of resources and of taxpayer money.

Two weeks, it takes him to reach the exoplanet.

(Nothing, in comparison to twelve years.)

He doesn’t mind the solitude. Just him and his little ship, and all the stars in the sky. It’s a newer model, easier for a crew of one to manage than the older ones. The computer working the systems keeps getting smarter. Soon, Remus thinks, his job will be obsolete.

Proxima Centauri b is pretty from orbit. Vast oceans, swaths of green, sun-bathed clouds hiding it from view in the most picturesque way. Remus watches as the line of day-night moves across the surface of the planet, so, so slowly. He’s stalling - he’s here and now he’s stalling, because this is it. What if it was for nothing? What if the voice had been extinguished in all the years that passed?

He’s not to land unless he makes contact: a waste of fuel on an already wasteful journey. It’s a clear command and already he knows he’s going to break it, because he’s not come this far just to be waylaid by the colony’s malfunctioning communicator, or the owner of the voice not seeing his message. Because, if he’s there, why would he check it? After all those years? 

Still: there is flagrant disregard of orders, and there is covering one’s tracks, so Remus sends out the message.

Survivors of the Proxima Centauri b colony, come in. 

The little black text on the little green screen flickers with its own electrical life. 

No response comes and Remus tells himself you knew this would happen, it doesn’t mean anything. He sends the message again, and then again after a couple of hours. He has enough fuel to stay in orbit for a week and still get back to Earth with a safe amount spare.

He’s planned it like this: three messages, equal times apart, to show he tried it that way first. Then, short circuit the communicator - notoriously unreliable on the class of ship he’d been provided. Nobody can blame him for not trying. Nobody can blame him for finishing the mission in person.

What else was he to do, turn back?

He lands as near to the colony as the landscape allows. The compound is vast but the atmosphere is breathable. Remus has gotten used to the staleness of the recycled air he’s been in for a fortnight and this freshness is so welcome it makes him a little bit dizzy.

From the first look, it’s clear that the colony was abandoned - that something had happened. Remus’ footsteps echo against the white walls of the compound in an eerie quiet. He’s been to these places, these colonies, more times than he can count, but never once had he seen it empty.

It’s only the steady humming of power, running through the cables built into the floor, that gives him hope.

He comes across a doorway to an Aeroponics bay and this - this can’t be something that had cultivated itself. There must be someone here.

The plants have grown tall, their exposed roots well maintained - the air is moist, warm and hazy and Remus doesn’t think he sees an automatic water deployment system. Somebody must have just sprayed them. He touches the leaves of potato plants, gathering the moisture with his fingers because it’s a dual thing of life here - a sign and a gift.

There’s corn, and what he thinks is spinach, and strawberries. He shouldn’t be surprised - this was a large scale colony, with families and children. Of course they’d have things just for pleasure, even if it’s not the best use of the space.

The first time Remus sees him, it’s just a glimpse of a person walking through greenery. An afterimage of dark hair, of leisurely steps, of a strong, straight posture.

And then the man takes a few steps into the main aisle and turns around, and there he is.

It’s clear he’s been living by himself for too long. His hair hangs past his shoulders, unkempt but clean, a mess of black waves. There is a thinness to his frame, a suggestion of jutting elbows and sharp hipbones, clothes hanging on him like they were used to a larger body. Facial hair accentuating the edges of his cheeks, the set of his eyes.

Even like this, clearly malnourished, clearly not caring for his appearance, he’s beautiful.

They stand apart - two meters, maybe three. Remus still in his flight suit, the man in something soft and worn and comfortable. There’s the buzzing of electricity and the humming of the air purification unit and no other sounds, none at all.

Remus knows it’s him. He knows his silence as others would know his voice

And then: “You came,” and the voice, too, is familiar.

“I did.”

The man takes step after halted step, like walking on unfamiliar ground. He comes closer but not close. Remus understands.

“How long has it been?”

“Twelve years.”

An interface on one of the plant unit beeps and the man turns to it. “Huh,” he huffs out, a small sound almost like no sound at all.

He fiddles with the positioning of roots and presses buttons that make the beeping stop, then picks up an atomiser and sprays a fine mist over the plant. He has lovely hands, even if the fingers look a bit bony and the nails have been bitten down.

“What’s your name?” Remus asks because he’s wanted to know since the first time he heard the recording.

“Sirius,” the man speaks to the plant.

And Remus is a pilot. He knows the stars. He’s flown amongst them, used them as guides. He knows which one is the brightest in the winter sky and how to orient by it.

“Suits you.”

Sirius turns to him again, surprise written clear across his face. “You’re still here,” he says, then pauses. It’s the same pause Remus knows. “You didn’t go away.”

“No, I didn’t. I won’t.”

“No?”

“Not without you.”

More plants get sprayed, more roots adjusted. Sirius checks things on the interface displays along the aisle he stands in.

There is no need for him to maintain them anymore. Back on the ship Remus has enough food to last them both a month. He won’t tell Sirius that - he watches him care for the plants as if by muscle memory. They must be what kept him fed all the years he’s been alone.

He doesn’t move. Everything in the Aeroponics bay feels fragile and breakable, the air soft with mistwater, the silence held up by humming electricity. “Will you come with me?”

“Not today,” he walks out of the Aeroponics bay, doesn’t look back.

***

Proxima Centauri b is situated in a binary star system. The days are almost never ending, and the nights, when they happen, are so black that navigation becomes impossible.

The dual suns are larger than Remus has ever seen from any planet surface, the size of the Earth’s moon when it hangs full low over the horizon. They’re both red Dwarfs, giving out little heat. The sky is painted a dark maroon and the shadows are strange, multi-positioned. Everything looks one-dimensional. Flat, like a photograph. Rendered in tones of reds and greys, and deep, rich blacks.

Walking into the compound is like waking from a surrealist dream.

Sirius is in the Aeroponics bay again, tending to his plants. He doesn’t startle when he sees Remus.

“You came back,” he says after a long stretch of silence. He maintains eye contact this time, waits for the answer. 

“I said I wouldn’t leave.”

“There is a difference between not leaving and coming back.”

Remus wonders where the bodies of everyone who didn’t leave but didn’t come back are. Every other member of the colony of dozens. Did Sirius bury them, dug up the cold, hard ground? Is there a cemetery outside in the infertile red soil? Was it slow, gradual? Or did the colony collapse all at once, suddenly and quickly, until Sirius was all that was left?

“Come,” Sirius says, but doesn’t look if Remus follows.

There is a Mess Hall across from the corridor, with a small kitchen attached. Sirius gestures for Remus to sit. He does, choosing a chair closest to the kitchen and wonders if this is where Sirius would normally sit, or if he rotates his spot, or if Remus is the first to sit there in twelve years.

Sirius placed two bowls on the table, cream-of-potato soup and cornbread. “Eat,” he says, dipping the bread into the soup in lieu of a spoon.

“Thank you.”

Sirius drops the bread and looks at Remus and it’s clear that before he wasn’t, not really. Not at Remus, but through him, like he was an apparition or a hallucination or maybe not there at all. A trick of the light or a figure of mist.

The scrutiny verges on uncomfortable. Remus tries eating, tries to look natural - it would be so easy to spook Sirius here, one wrong move is one too many. Remus can’t afford to make a mistake, not when the eyes looking at him (into him) are so bright with life that simply wasn’t there before. He didn’t notice that Sirius was as flat as the horizon until he sparked up.

“This is very nice,” he says about the food.

And Sirius barks.

It’s a laugh, Remus supposes. An approximation of one. Sirius silences it and touches the hollow of his throat with unsure fingers. Remus wonders how long it’s been since he laughed.

“It tastes like shit,” he says. It’s the most animated he’s sounded since Remus found him. His fingers don’t move from over his trachea, as if he’s feeling the vibrations his voice creates there. “I ran out of salt years ago.” 

Everything they’re eating was grown by Sirius’ hands, then made into food by him too, and that annuls any complaints Remus could have had about the taste. He’s seen how SIrius is with his plants, delicate and caring, like they’re more than just something which provides him with nutrients. 

Did you speak to them? Remus wonders. Did they keep you company, the only other breathing things left here?

Once the food is gone, Sirius meanders away. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Remus says to his retreating back. Whether Sirius heard it or not is unclear - his steps don’t falter, he doesn’t turn back.

Not today.

***

There is an artificial day-night cycle on Remus’ little ship. Lights simulate the natural progression of the Earth’s sun to keep his circadian rhythm from deteriorating while he’s off planet.

(He dreams of silence.)

In the morning, Sirius is outside of the compound. The angles and edges of his face look softened in the strange reddish shadows. He doesn’t say you came back, doesn’t say anything. The way he watches Remus is unlike he’s ever been watched before: shrewd intent, no hesitation. Each step he takes towards him is like that, too.

Remus doesn’t move. Waits for Sirius to reach him. (He thinks he’ll always wait for Sirius to reach him.)

“Who are you?” Sirius finally asks as they’re face-to-face, less than an arms’ length apart, close enough to touch.

“Lieutenant Remus Lupin,” he answers in the simplest way he knows how. They both know that’s not what the question meant.

“Why are you here?”

“You know why,” Remus tells him. It’s not you sent a call for help and it’s not it was my duty. 

Surely, Sirius feels it too - maybe felt it before Remus got here; when the message made it to Earth or when Remus was played it for the first time, or when he downloaded it onto his personal drive and snuck it out of the lab. These things don’t happen in a vacuum. Surely, Sirius too must have dreamt of this moment when the silence gets filled with words, and the next one when it will be filled with sound. Just the two of them, where before Sirius was alone, reminding the air what it feels like to resonate.

Sirius takes the last step forward and brings his hand up, fingers trembling as, haltingly, he places it over Remus’ heart.

“We don’t have to,” Remus tells him, “we can wait.”

“I did my waiting.”

Sirius moves his hand up, along the zip of the flight suit, until he reaches Remus’ throat: a mirror of how he touched his own, fingertips light against the skin.

Remus speaks just so Sirius can feel his voice as it’s created. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

Sirius is conservative with his words, with the humming sounds he chooses to respond with. Everything from him is a bit rough - a voice unused in too long a time. Some words he overpronounces. Forgotten how they feel on his tongue, Remus guesses.

The hand on his throat stretches out, fingers splayed until they span the width of it, then slip around and into his hair. Sirius watches as if he isn’t the one doing it. As if it’s something that just happened, that was always going to happen. Inevitable. Written into the atoms that make up the both of them, aeons ago when they were still stardust caught in nebulae, strewn across the cosmos. Cyclically, with each universe beginning and each one ending, coming back to this moment - to this first touch.

Delicately, because Sirius should always be touched delicately, Remus takes hold of his wrist. Sirius’ breath hitches, then stops. It's divinity to touch him. 

Remus makes it gentle. Makes it safe. If he’s the first in twelve years to place marks of fingerprints on Sirius’ body, then he’ll make himself into something worth it.

It’s a wonder how seamless everything is. As if it isn’t new. Remus knows Sirius is going to kiss him before he does. There is no change in his demeanour but there is a shift in the silence, something else stirred through the determination. 

And then Sirius does. And Remus finds his home on Proxima Centauri.

It’s odd, that he didn’t realise a part of him was missing until he found it, but it’s so clear now, with Sirius’ lips against his own. There was a hole inside of him and now, with each second he is allowed this, each second he’s given this, that hole is filled.

Sirius is slow about it. Patient. If nothing else he must have learnt patience, surviving like this. Remus keeps it like this: soft touches as their lips come apart and come together. Warm, where Sirius is warm, the only source of heat on the surface of this cold planet, the only source of life.

Sirius leads him toward the compound and it’s like stepping into the ocean - the water welcoming its long-forgotten counterpart.

They walk through the corridor, past the Mess, past the Aeroponics Bay. There are more spaces there - Engineering and Storage and rooms Remus pays no mind, too engrossed in the way Sirius has weaved their fingers together to pull him along.

The bedroom they enter is sparse. Utilitarian. Somewhere Sirius shouldn’t belong in and yet, through circumstance, does. Remus thinks of his home back on Earth. Comfortable bed strewn with blankets, an old wood fireplace he’s had converted into plasma. Thinks of Sirius in his kitchen or on his little balcony or in his bed.

Then Sirius reaches for the zip of his flight suit, and Remus thinks of nothing at all.

“Don’t touch me softly,” Sirius asks when Remus runs careful fingers up his arms. “Touch me like you’re here.”

So he does: tightens his hold, puts his hand into Sirius’ hair, down the sharp bones of his face, across the harshness of his beard. Sirius’ eyes flutter open and shut, once, twice - on the third they’re red-rimmed and wet.

“I’m here.”

They kiss again and it’s harder this time. Purposeful. Remus walks them forward until the backs of Sirius’ knees hit the bed and he collapses onto it, still held as he wants to be held.

There are tattoos down Sirius’ sternum. Remus discovers them with his mouth as he pushes the soft shirt up and off and out of the way.

This is the first one: a soft, quiet whimper, laced with the tears that finally spill. It sounds both like pleasure and like pain. Remus coaxes more of them out of Sirius’ throat as he mouths across it. Feels the trembling under his skin as his body remembers how to make these sounds. Feels the skin heat as it remembers why. 

“I found you,” he says into Sirius’ ribs. “I knew you’d be here.”

Sirius doesn’t reciprocate. He lays stretched out on the bed; hands twisted into the pillow, one a fist he bites into. “Don’t hide,” Remus tells him, “let me hear you.”

“I don’t know how.”

“It’s alright. We'll find it.”

He licks down Sirius’ hipbone and the sound comes again. Louder, needier. More like a moan. He does it again, and again. Encore. One more time. For me, once more. Then: harder and Remus obliges, bites to bruise.

There is no teasing. There are hands in hair, pulling, and mouths tasting and then please Sirius says - please, the word that brought them together. 

Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving in when Sirius asks like that. He pulls one of Sirius’ legs up, wraps it around himself to spread him open. Licks his own fingers until they’re soaked. Kisses Sirius through the first touches, apologetic. Forgive me for the pain. Sirius grabs at his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. He’s so impossibly tight, so wonderfully warm, and Remus knows when it turns from hurt and discomfort into something better. Sirius’ face doesn’t relax, but contorts into pleasure.

“I’ve forgotten,” he says in halted breaths.

Remus fucks him with two fingers, slow but hard. Kisses each moan straight from his mouth. Sirius clings onto him through it. “Please, Remus, more,” he uses the name for the first time. 

(Better than silence, the sound of the name ripped out of him mid-moan.)

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Remus doubles his efforts to make just his fingers good enough. They have nothing to help with the stretch.

“It won’t hurt,” Sirius uses the leg thrown over Remus’ hip to bring him closer. “Let me feel you. Let me have you.”

“You have me,” Remus tells him and means it in so many ways, “whatever happens here now, you have me.”

Something softens in Sirius’ expression. He pulls Remus in, fingers splayed across his jaw. Kisses him so slowly. The contrast - fingers hard where they bring Sirius pleasure but his lips soft and yielding and pliant - the contrast is almost enough to send Remus towards his own edge.

He’s not prepared when Sirius surges up and reverses them. Pushes Remus to the bed and straddles him. Rids them both of what clothes they have left on. Then, hand on Remus’ cock, his face turns mischievous and that? That is the look that suits him better than any other. “You’re so hard for me already,” he purrs. “I want to feel you everywhere, inside of me and outside.”

And who is Remus to deny him? No one. He’s no one, but a vessel for the things he feels for the man above him. Before he was empty and now, here, he’s overflowing.

I think I love you, he wants to say as Sirius lathers him up in spit. I think the stars have sent me you. 

The moment you laid eyes on me was the moment my existence began.

Sirius is careful about it, but inch by torturous inch he lowers himself down Remus’ cock. He’s warmer than the double suns keeping the planet alive. Remus could stay like this, surrounded by him, until the permaday ends.

And then Sirius sits. Arse flush to Remus’ hips. Throws his head back in pleasure, mouth agape and eyes closed as he feels it out.

“That’s it,” Remus tells him, voice tight and hands splayed on Sirius’ hips, grounding them both. “Take your time.”

Sirius, a contrarian, starts to move almost immediately. Minute rocks back and forth. Remus feels it as static electricity in his veins. He brings Sirius down, until he lays down on Remus and their lips can meet again, and Remus can bend his knees and drive himself further into Sirius, use the grip on his hips to bring him down closer on each thrust.

It’s maddening. Unlike anything. That he found it here could be proof of a higher power, had Remus not flown across the known galaxy. He always knew there was no space for such things in the sky. (He didn’t realise they were hiding here.)

Their movements grow erratic. The tears in Sirius’ eyes return and Remus wipes them off with his thumb. This gesture he allows himself to be soft, and Sirius turns his face into the palm of Remus’ hand, welcoming it.

“I’m so close,” Sirius says. The way he clenches over Remus a giveaway. Maybe a reward, but Remus doesn’t think he’s done anything in this life worthy of such a thing. 

Remus takes Sirius’ cock in hand, keeps his thrusts deep and steady. “That’s it,” he says, “come for me.”

Sirius moans into Remus’ mouth, loud and unashamed and this, this right there, is what makes Remus cum.

There is an eternity contained in the time they cling to one another. Remus runs his fingers up and down the lovely curve of Sirius’ back. All the ways left to discover you, he thinks, tracing vertebrae. All the time we’ll have, now we found each other.

***

In the two weeks they take to get back to Earth, silence becomes a thing of the past. Remus reminds Sirius what it’s like to be touched, and in return Sirius rewrites each sensation for him like it’s brand new. 

“Stay with me,” Remus asks before they land, and:

“Always,” Sirius replies. 

[shyrose57]

Hey, uh, where's my Pirates SMP Fic where Scott's crew gets a quest to transport the Runeblade somewhere?

Where's my story where they're all out at sea for an unforeseeable time, sailing to distant lands, trapped on the ship with a sword they don't realize is more than it seems until it's far too late to turn back. Trapped with memories they don't know what to do with, and ghosts they never meant to invite onboard.

Scott sets the sword beside his bed, wrapped in it's careful cloth per the specific instructions from the harried collector. It's tucked away carefully, more carefully than even he is prone to, for reasons he can't explain.

Is that care why he wakes choking in the night, spitting up blood, and reaching out hands to yank the blade from his chest only to realize nothing is there, and the thick crimson spilling from his mouth has left no stain?

Is that why the pale dried petals in one of the many books on board slip into red and reform into a flower being tucked behind his ear, by a man in blue, a man in green, a man wearing a wedding ring. He thinks my husband before he thinks stranger, except when he goes to stand nobody is there, and the petals are still tucked between the pages.

Cleo eyes it warily, when it's brought aboard, but thinks nothing more of it, and maybe her carelessness is why she doesn't pay attention when the first flashes begin, just the barest hint of color shifting in the corner of her eye that she passes off as a trick of the light.

Then she turns her head and finds Scott's sprouted fins at his head, red streaked in his hair. A faceless figure behind him raises their sword, and she shrieks and slams into them, only to fall through and tackle her captain instead.

She leans back against the mast, and green flashes beside her, a toothy grin she smiles back at, a name on the tip of her tongue dying as Olive's face comes into focus, smile much softer, and the moss she swore made up their coat vanishes. She can't remember who else she thought it was going to be. She thinks it was someone she would've died for.

Owen has other priorities, and unless he's asked, he doesn't see the need to worry about it. And then, she spills some expensive wine he'd sweet-talked from a Kestrel's hands on the ground, and the exasperation is, for a moment, overwritten by terror. The liquid darkens and the scent of iron makes him reel back for a single moment, before she blinks and it's just....wine again.

He stumbles his way to the ship's side, not nearly drunk enough to wash away the unease in his heart, and double takes at her reflection, now blond and boyish, a warm brown jacket tucked around them tight in the chilly air. Someone calls her name behind him, except it's not his name, it can't be, so fundamentally wrong when the boy staring back at her would never know it was supposed to be his. It takes Water's hand at his shoulder before she responds.

Olive thinks the sword is curious, but that's the extent. Until, at least, the world wobbles under their feet, and the door to the captain's cabin suddenly seems impossibly tall, how are they possibly meant to get in there, they can't reach-

It's utterly nonsensical. It keeps happening. The ship lurches, their heart flutters in terror, for surely they'll be tossed into the walls, and they shake to realize they somehow stayed on their feet. Cruppy prods at their hands, concerned at their behavior, but it's not Cruppy, it's something else that's edges fade too fast for them to grasp. A shadow looks wrong along the ground, and it lunges for them, and they almost goes overboard trying to get away from some phantom that isn't there.

Eloise blinks back sleep from her eyes, not even thinking of the sword in the midst of her crew's strangeness, up until an absolutely beautiful shark swims beneath their boat, and the whole crew watches in quiet appreciation. She spins on her heel, goes to spill forth something that she knows in her heart will be just as pretty but the words don't come out how she wants them to, falling like flat notes in an off-tune song, and she's not even sure what she was trying to do when it's done.

She splits her hand cleaning a sword, and opens her mouth to call for Cleo, even though Owen is mere feet from her and already going for the bandages. The words catch in her throat anyway, when she sees her there with Scott, and the sunlight spins across orange locks turned greenish-ebony, and a tattered overcoat becomes a gorgeous, elegant dress that has no place on a pirate ship, and-and she averts her eyes trying to make sense of the sudden wish to be half as strong as the strangers that had stood where her friends were as Owen helps wrap her hand.

Water dreams. Oh, how she dreams. She dreams of a world where a single red heart hums on her wrist, and knows with a terrible sureness that she won't come back should she misstep here. But that means little, not when the warm earth beneath her fingers settles there so beautifully. Not when the food she pulls from the earth is so ripe, waiting to be torn into and devoured.

She wakes up, and steps from her bed, half-expecting the world to fall out from under her where it flashes gold for a moment, and stumbling for it. A phantom weight twitches at her back, and she greens at the smell of the sea for one, strange second, wondering where the flowers are. She comes back to herself, and tries to shake it off.

They all try to shake it off.

Scott's eyes are not green, or yellow, or red. He makes no noise when Cleo slams him to the floor with a protective snarl, aiming for some opponent no longer there to strike him. He waits for Owen to blink back to herself, and realize Scott cannot do whatever it is he thinks he can, does not know magic the way she sometimes is assured he does. And they quietly disperse the phantoms they catch him begging to in the night without a word, correct him when he inquires after a different brother than the one he has, half-asleep.

Olive is not small. But they are not shoved off when they desperately grasp at Eloise's arms, or tries to steady themselves against Water, when the world seems too big. And they take Water's hands when she scrabbles for the deck, digging at wood until it bloodies her hands, holding them until the other remembers they are at sea. When Eloise grabs for something that isn't there, and goes to jump ship at a flash of pink in the water, Olive pulls her back, and calls her name until she knows herself again.

They try to shake it off, and they utterly fail.

The Runeblade leaves it's mark. Even once it's tossed to it's next owner at their destination by Scott's too cold hands. The dreams fade, but still sit, waiting for them to doze and come awake crying out. The ghosts fall back to the corner of their vision, stepping forward when they make the mistake of wavering, with names they shouldn't know on their lips, and promises none of them ever managed to keep spilling forth.

Give the story, where a wretched quest changes them at their cores in a way they never anticipated.

[underworld-office-fan-acc]

How does the gang deal with insults?

Uwo gang + Sean because WHY NOT!!! >:]

_____

Eugene:

★ Mf is weak asf even the slightest thing pains them </3 but they don't get revenge for some reason,,,

★ They don't recognize the subtle ones, but outright insults will put them in a depressing chokehold all day. Don't be mean to them,,,

★ Unless it's playful, they'll try to brush it off (they cannot brush it off).

★ C: "Eugene you cannot be talking you're more mentally ill than the average mental hospital." "....oh." CLOCKED

★Will underreact but will be thinking about it all day it never leaves their mind T_T

Boss:

★ He gets annoyed, of course. But after a few seconds hell ignore it and try to focus on more important things rather than some 'trivial matters' he says.

★ He'll use his fan, don't test him.

★ Somehow can tell even with the backhanded compliments, it's like he'd gone through it before.

★ R: "I think Boss is cool! I love how he can think he's ACTUALLY the boss with that mindset—" -(WHAM!)- "OW!! Hey :(" "Watch your mouth."

★ Too serious to make silly insults because it ends up sounding like a threat, so no :(

River:

★ Miss ma'am actually takes insults AS compliments???

★ She'll be impressed with whatever anyone comes up for her, because someone actually thought up some mean comment for her??? Woah.

★ Likes to replay it all the time until she forgets, giggles and kicks her feet just from the thought.

★ C: "YOU'RE LITERALLY BUILT LIKE BLACK LICORICE." "Oohooh because I'm skinny? ;)" "No because nobody likes you." (Not a ship btw!!!)

★ She's just silly ngl

Hayden:

★ No because this kid WILL talkback with no hesitation don't try him.

★ Somehow will come up with the meanest comments if you try to clock this kid. He's scaringly good somehow.

★ Will say it with an straight face, he sometimes doesn't realize how good his retorts are.

★ R: "Why do you look like a spitball?" "Why does River looks like a leech?" "...okay listen here you little—"

★ He uses what people hate against them somehow :0

Joan:

★ She'll start scolding you. Why would you even insult her in the first place??? >:0

★ Ma'am will pull out the 'kids these days' cards, she's the old woman here don't try her.

★ She sometimes just shakes her head in disappointment, but that's it other than the occasional 'back in my days' comment.

★ C: "Granny Joan, you remind me of a raisin." "Tsk, back in my days people wouldn't have the guts to sepak to their superiors..." "Well guess what? It's 2024 grannie MOVE ON."

★ Charlie get yo ass out here >:(

Sean:

★ Honestly the person who reacts the most maturely, ignores it.

★ He would look away, acting as if he hadn't heard whatever the person said because he doesn't believe in being mean D:

★ Please don't be mean to him,,,

★ R: "Sean remember that time when you cried? You were such a crybaby!!" "Yeah okay but did Eugene still wanted a dandelion or did I hear wrong?—"

★The second trusted adult tbh

Charlie:

★ Okay damn. They didn't realize how much of a temper they had until now.

★ Will NOT tolerate hate towards them. Since they're dead, who cares about talking nice atp???

★ Will talkback, no matter who it is. Especially if it's so creative and a little too accurate don't call her out like that >:(

★ R: "Stf you toddler your forehead is literally taller than a ruler" "Okay first of all fuck off—"

★ Yah no they're not letting any of that slide,,,,

[talknerdytome18]

Seeing all the shit regarding people's opinions on Seb after S4 that went down on Twitter just made me feel frustrated. Since I don't post on Twitter since I only use my personal account, I will just come on here instead.

You can dislike a character all you want. That's fine; I dislike many characters. Nobody is saying that you have to like a certain character; it's FINE to not like certain characters.

However, it is NOT okay to attack others who may like that character. It is NOT okay to erase the impact that character, especially with a character like Seb who is a part of the first openly gay couple in the HSM franchise. You can dislike Seb all you want; THAT IS FINE, but you DO NOT attack others who actually like his character. Stop calling Seblos stans losers all because you don't like Seb/think Carlos deserves better; we all know damn well that you never cared about Carlos until s4. I've seen your opinions about him TWITTER 🙄

Fandom is meant to bring people with the same interest together. People who may feel excluded may find comfort in fandom. By actively bullying others who have different opinions than you, that makes you a bully. You can go off and say "IT'S JUST A JOKE HAHAHA STOP GETTING UPSET", THAT MAKES YOU A FUCKING ASSHOLE. PEOPLE COME INTO FANDOMS BECAUSE OF THEIR COMMON INTEREST; THEY DON'T COME INTO FANDOMS TO GET HARASSED FOR THEIR DIFFERING OPINIONS. STOP WITH THE EXCUSES; I'M FUCKING SICK OF IT.

Seblos especially means a lot to many members in the fandom. To many, they have made many feel seen especially in a time where queer shows are being cancelled. Seblos was the first ship I had ever felt connected to and it makes me feel disgusted whenever I see people discrediting their impact all because of s4.

If you constantly make excuses as to why you're bullying others in the fandom, then you're just an awful person. You people are nothing but bark and no bite; you guys can dish it out all online, but are too scared to dish it out in person. This especially goes for a certain fanbase for a ship that, while is a beautiful ship, has the worst fanbase I've ever seen. I will not group all members as being bad as I've met some lovely shippers who have been kind and respectful. Why can't that be the same for Twitter?

All in all, this type of behaviour is fucking embarrassing. HSMTMTS is over and yet people are still arguing like children all because of Seblos being endgame. You can whinge all you about it, but you're not going to change it - they're endgame and that's that. You don't have a say and your non-existent spinoff will not change that.

You can be upset with the cheating storyline. Many Seblos stans are upset with it too, but it is not an excuse to harass us for still liking the ship.

You can dislike Seb. That is FINE, but it is NEVER an excuse to harass people who like Seb. This goes for anyone who likes a certain character (unless it's someone who is completely unredeemable).

This behaviour has gone on too long and was partially the reason why I deleted my fandom Twitter in the first place. Bullying others will never get you anywhere in life; stop excusing this behaviour all because it's a "joke" to you. It may be a joke to you, but it hurts for the person affected.

And if I, someone who has been trying to move on from HSMTMTS to AGGGTM, have to come here and say this, then you know that I'm pissed. I'm sick of seeing people feeling pressured to leave the HSMTMTS fandom all because some certain members with holier than thou attitudes think it's okay to harass others.

To anyone who has been bullied in this fandom/any fandom space for a silly reason, I am sorry that happened to you. You deserve much better. This blog sees your worth ❤️

Do better HSMTMTS fandom. - Em

[saccharinemeat]

What are your opinions on Hfjone ships?

oh fucking man

okay imma get crucified , but here we go. opinion on popular ones + my own rareship

Liam/Bryce

fucking SUCKS. it can only work if you're self aware about how absolutely awful and hurtful liam is,and i feel from what ive seen that the fandom just reduces them to 'omg doomed yaoi' and like, woobifies them. This ship only and only works as one sided,forced and extremely toxic (in my eyes). Bryce deserves better than Liam, and liam relentlessly hurts Bryce down to the very goddamn end (← i say this as someone who is currently fuckin obsessed with liam and self recognizes in him 😐)

Liam/Amelia

I like this one. I feel like theyre pretty good for each other, although, it's sort of a doomed one,in the sense of how it would work only if they were to be in the plane forever. I do feel like Amelia sort of lost herself in the plane forever. If those two ever got out, he'd have to take some charge on their shared recovery and Liam is NOT gonna deal with that well. Still a cute ship,and I like it.

Amelia/Charlotte

...why? this feels like pairing the leftover main characters because everyone is focused on the Boys TM. they dont really have any chemistry,like,even theorically i feel like they wouldn't mesh well,unless you wanna make Amelia basically Charlotte's therapist. But yay, women! i can't be mad about this one,really. I don't mind it

Liam/Airy

Lairy is...complicated, emotionally. I can see it actually being a thing,but it's really in a fucked up way. definitely a 'i hope we both die' kind of pairing. I think about it and it gives me heartache that i cant explain. it hurts because they both are awful in different ways but also they are trying. I will say i do enjoy it but in a way that makes me hurt. lots of angst there. I think this one especially benefits from becoming a ship that happens after moldpack being A thing

Liam/Charlotte

Okay this one is not popular,in fact i feel like nobody but me is into it but theres so much potential here. especially the way they would be so horribly,terrifyingly bad to each other. I can imagine Charlotte getting out instead of Bryce,and how different it all would be. her prideful nature and liam's manipulative tendencies are so deliciously wrong. I feel they would bring the worst out of each other. I have a lot to say about them but like. Consider those first 5 months. Liam was as isolated as Charlotte was,he only sorta rejoined the others in the last two months stretch, and I think they might've interacted during that. And just, Charlotte WOULD be interested in solving the mystery,she would jump on that chance because she needs control and Liam would be elated at first and horrified later and AGH it would be so messy and interesting. please ask me more about moldpack. im the charlotte/liam person number 1 fan now.

and now rapid fire other ships,

Oscar/Bryce - can see it,and i feel like it makes sense within Bryce's trauma streak. I can imagine them bonding and it getting a bit too close

Bryce/Stella - I wish this had more exploration,object shipcest is so insanely rare. I like it

Taylor/Amelia - kinda cute,can see it if taylor stayed in the plane. Especially if it starts as a sort of one sided crush that goes too far

Liam/Owen - this is cute,can kinda see it but only in a no-show scenario (as in, ONE never happened and this is a coworker romance thing)

Charlotte/Parker - it upsets me,but i can see them as having hooked up once and Parker catching feelings while Charlotte is super uncomfortable about it and that explains that weird tension.

Bryce/Amelia - eh. sure? it's cute but i dont care for it a lot. also i dont care for sodacentpack a lot,but it's better than sodapack alone i Guess. get ♣️'d lmao

ALSO, the crackship/crossover with showvember

Airy/Popcorn - NO. piss off the joke is boring and lame and IDK i hate it.

[raine-kai]

Novel Wen Ziduan Has Issues

As you might know if you have seen anything I have posted here or written lately or talked about in the past month or so, I like Third Prince, or Wen Ziduan, from Love Like the Galaxy quite a lot.

What you might not know is that even though I liked him before I read the book, based on the drama alone, I like him even more that I read the book.

Let me be clear: novel Ziduan is a disaster.

For one thing, Yuan Shanjian's tendency to neg Shaoshang at every possible opportunity? That was Ziduan in the book. YSJ is a lot less directly offensive in his behavior toward Shaoshang, which makes him a lot more likable in the book. They still argue a lot, but he doesn't go out of his way to try to make her feel bad about herself. Meanwhlie, Ziduan only goes through one scene where he outright starts negging Shaoshang in the drama—and to be fair, this is episode 49 and he was having a really bad day that day, after having had a terrible day the day before as well—and she tells him off pretty well for it. He has a reason to talk to her that day, but otherwise he seems to mostly ignore her, or roll with whatever else is going on in the scene. Ziduan in the drama comes off as a foil of sorts to Shaoshang. They both care deeply for Huo Buyi, but while Ziduan has power in theory, he can do nothing to help Huo Buyi and is losing his mind (he behaves more erratically, more angrily and snappishly in that episode than we ever see him before or after) after the revenge. Shaoshang might not have power, but she has the keys to exonerating Huo Buyi, and she is exceedingly quiet and calm as she makes her case—both to Ziduan for her right to personhood, and to the court for Huo Buyi. By the end of this scene, we see Shaoshang share a warning with Ziduan, who bows to her and promises to bring Zisheng back, and make him apologize to her.

This is a far cry from the behavior of novel Ziduan, who takes every possible opportunity to point out how inferior Shaoshang is, especially relative to Zisheng.

He does eventually come to terms with the fact that Shaoshang and Zisheng are going to be together, in his own way... But not before being absolutely delighted to betroth Shaoshang to Yuan Shanjian, only to be deeply upset when Zisheng returns and wants her back. There's a whole scene where he demands to know why nobody told him that he would want her back, and rants about how poor of a match Shaoshang is for Zisheng, who deserves the best...even though he is just as dumb as she is, he admits toward the end.

I cannot articulate enough how much novel Ziduan comes across like a comphet gay boy trying to justify why he's mad that his best friend is dating someone by making it the girl's fault. Somehow.

I ship OT3 in the world of the drama, but I don't see how that could work in the novel world unless ZIduan does one hell of a lot of soulsearching.

The other day, I found the novel extras, and there was one for Ziduan, and OH BOY, I did not think this shit could get even funnier.

First off, this man is a misogynistic mess from the moment we get into his head. He says there are two kinds of women: virtuous and unvirtuous. And then he proceeds to list all the women in his life as various shades of unvirtuous. Empress Xuan? Very unvirtuous. His mother, Consort Yue? Extremely unvirtuous. His aunts and sisters? Never heard of the word virtue in their lives—except Second Sister, she's ok. (I have to assume this assessment is pre-time skip, because post time-skip Second Princess had apparently become less ladylike or something.) Xiao Yuanyi is also ok. Cheng Shaoshang is just the absolute worst.

So he sort of...has to approve of their betrothal (again) because it's what will make Huo Buyi happy and as we know, Ziduan really just wants Huo Buyi to be happy. (Although in this universe it's buried underneath so much negative vibes directed at Shaoshang that it can be easy to forget that.)

Shaoshang comes to talk to him, and she uses flattery over his dedication to justice over family (a love language between all 3 of them, I swear) to undercut his usual pattern of berating her. It works, until she's about to leave.

And then this happens:

The prince was very moved, and his tone could not help softening: "I am not afraid of being criticized by others, but only hope that the people of the world will live and work in peace and contentment, free from natural disasters and man-made disasters, so I will live up to the trust of the ancestors."

Originally, he wanted to scold the girl, but at this moment, the crown prince could not swear much, so he simply waved his hand: "Forget it, you can go back, take a good rest, and serve Zisheng carefully after marriage. Sigh, Over the years, Zisheng has really suffered a lot, you, you should treat him better."

Shaoshang agreed sincerely, and hurried out of the door. When she reached the courtyard, the prince suddenly called her to stop. Shaoshang looked back in a daze, and saw the prince raised his right hand, and then her shoulder hurt slightly, and when she looked down, it turned out to be a small stone. She was tongue-tied, and looked at the prince in disbelief—he, he, he, he, he, he, he, he, he actually threw stones at herself! The majestic crown prince actually threw stones at her!

The prince's brows and eyes are firm and resolute, and the perennial solemnity is swept away, as if he is ten years younger and suddenly returned to his naughty and troubled boyhood. He laughed heartily: "Okay, let's settle the matter now, you can go back and happily prepare for marriage!"

Shaoshang stamped her feet angrily, turned her head and left.

HE THREW A ROCK AT HER.

HE THREW A ROCK AT HER AND WAS HAPPY ABOUT IT.

And then after this scene, Ziduan's immediately thinking to himself about how he has to double their wedding gifts and hope they have a daughter he can marry to a son of his own.

THE AMOUNT OF DISASTER GAY ENERGY HERE IS STAGGERING.

Oh, about his wife--he does have a concubine. A cousin of his, selected by his uncle. He agreed to marry her because his uncle said so, and then the moment he stopped and thought about it, he realized how unvirtuous his wife is. She actually wants him to LIKE her, the gall of her!

Anyway, this man is a complete trainwreck and I adore it.

Mostly because the drama version exists as essentially a fix-it.

Speaking of which, who was it who decided to take Ziduan's "you-stole-the-man-I-am-not-aware-I'm-in-love-with-and-I'm-mad-about-it" energy and dropped it onto Yuan Shanjian, of all people? He's actually supposed to like Shaoshang... That might be the strangest adaptation decision, imo 😂😂😂

[shydaydreamer28]

MCU - PalmerStrange + Salvaging Cleaphen

Unlike my last PalmerStrange post, this IS NOT a rant - just (probably unwarranted) optimism as a Cleaphen shipper.

This is how I see PalmerStrange from the first film to MoM - which I think can add depth & perspective Strange in the future, salvage Cleaphen, while also taking some of the cringe & shallowness out of the MoM version of PalmerStrange.

I said this in my PS post, but them shoving Christine down our throats so hard fucks everything up for Clea as a love interest. When 4/8 years of Strange's MCU time has been Christine-based with her getting this unearned spot as his "one true love", how are we meant to care about Clea coming into his life?

Clea ends up looking like a consolation prize because his actual love rejected him (in numerous universes). With that being the case, how are MCU fans (who are non-comic readers) supposed to truly invest in what was set-up to look like a rebound relationship because they wrote themselves into a corner trying to give Rachel McAdams more spotlight? Lol

That's like if the comics tried to paint Zelma as Strange's true love after we spend decades with Clea. That was a weird relationship by the way. Sometimes she was strictly a student & friend, other times it was written like they intended Strange's feelings as romantic. Lord knows...But either way, it's asinine. Imo you don't (or shouldn't) spend years gassing up a relationship knowing you have no intent of settling on it, then bringing in a new person randomly claiming that it was always meant to be them after numerous prior years depicting it as clearly being someone else.

I am saying the above because it seems clear in interviews from Waldron & McAdams, that they genuinely believe in PalmerStrange as a deep love pairing. Wth their pushing of it, it hurts Clea's romance with Strange in future projects by being brought in as "the lesser" ship.

However, the writing & execution in MoM was so bad, that I can NOT see PalmerStrange the way Waldron & McAdams were trying to sell it. And plus, of course the latter is gonna toot her own horn & hype the main character's feelings for her. Lmao

The first film didn't paint Christine being anywhere near as important to Strange as MoM tried to (badly) suggest.

Being bluntly honest, Strange never really paid much attention to Christine unless he wanted or needed something. I do believe he cared as much as he could at that time in his life when we first meet him, but it seemed more like she was a safety net. I'll expand a bit further down.

But first, lets look at the first non-business interaction between them. This interaction alone tells us everything.

Christine shares her policy against dating co-works which she named after Strange. Strange is glad something is named after him since nobody wants to call the technique he invented "The Strange technique."

Christine corrects him in noting that they invited the technique, which includes her.

Note how Strange promptly rushes passed the part relating to her to talk about how he's speaking at a dinner he wants her to attend with him.

Christine is less than thrilled. Strange says they had fun when they'd go & she has to break it to him that she never had fun because everything is always about him.

This sets the tone right here. Strange is clearly attracted to Christine but he is not at all in-tune with her as a person. When they were dating, Christine went to those events for him - not because they were fun, because they weren't for her. And Strange was so detatched & disinterested in her emotionally, he couldn't fathum that she wasn't having any fun until she outright tells him. Not hard to see why she (we can safely assume) broke things off.

Lets also take notice of how Strange never does anything for Christine.

She bought him a very expensive & engraved watch.

She was the one person to visit with him in the hospital after his accident, and was clearly heartbroken seeing him hurt.

She tried to take care of him after the accident - we see her giving him a shave when he's still hospitalized as well as bringing him food after he's out.

And while her timing was bad, she tried to get him to face the fact that his hands can not be fixed rather than torture himself on false hopes & putting himself in debt because of it.

But she also tries to encourage him to use the time to find new meaning in life.

She saved his life when he was stabbed.

She tried to comfort him after The Ancient One's death.

Lastly, she invited him to her wedding as a good friend.

Meanwhile we never see him doing anything for her. Her wedding in MoM was a chance for him to be supportive & encouraging on her new life chapter.

But rather than do that, his first instinct is to make her wedding about him - using her reception as the time & place to confess that he still has feelings for her.

Not only is this tacky asf, but it shows how little her happiness & best interests are to him when he makes her big day about him. Their relationship was 100% giving and / or sacrifice on Christine's end & nothing but taking on Strange's end. And that has not changed in MoM.

Imo opinion that cements that Strange doesn't love her because he doesn't care enough about her to ever put her first, show her consideration, or do even the smallest kindnesses for her - even after his character developement .

Christine seems to be someone he could always count on to validate & support him whenever he needed / wanted because she was the only person to ever put up with him. For the longest, she may have been the only friend (and possibly lover) he ever had. Or maybe he had more but she was the only one who stuck around. However you slice it, the first film makes it clear, she's the only real friend he had prior to his journey. Nobody else cared about him beyond professional responsibility. And there was good reason for that. Lol

He's so obsessive in MoM, the only way I excuse & explain it is her wedding triggering him and bringing some insecuriies and traumas regarding loss & lonliness back to the surface.

Rather than truly loving her, he's just desperate to cling to the 1 person he's always had for the longest. Her marrying someone else cuts in on their relationship big time. But that clinginess has more to do with him trying to make himself happy & hold on to a comfort source rather than out of any truly deep love for her. 

Again, not saying he doesn't care about Christine - but rather his romantic feelings are not based around true love. It seems to be based around how she makes him feel more so than how he truly feels for her. A case of truly loving the person vs. their actions, i.e. "what they do or provide for you."

And even deep into MoM, this seemed to be the case because all of his interactions with Christine center on what he is feeling rather than him trying to truly connect with & understand her feelings. He's had some character development but when it comes to Christine, he still treats everything as being about him, marking very little change in their relationship since the hospital scene in the first film.

He regresses when he's around her. Not because of anything bad on her part. She's so compassionate to him, she's done nothing but sacrifice & give to him which he has now come to expect. When they link up, he's always looking for her to be his comfort, savior, & validation rather than his true love or partner. In response, she humors him & is more patient with him than most would be. But sadly she's inadvertently enabling his behavior.

Cleaphen & Perspective

Now that brings me to Cleaphen & new perspective for Strange. Unlike PalmStrange (lmao that name works on multiple levels), Cleaphen only got 30 sec. of screentime. Lmao So this is based around wishful thinking to build on the above. LMAO

For me, the way to salvage this upcoming ship is establish that his feelings for Christine were not as genuine as he may have thought at the time once he begins to experience & feel the real thing with Clea.

Now usually I am very much against sailing ships by bombing others. A good ship can sail on its own. The thing that makes this different was MCU writing things into a corner to show more Rachel. Derrickson used Christine to give Strange a personal teather to his old life that he'd have to give up at the film's end. He gave them their closure in the first film & was planning & excited to bring Clea in for MoM. But he left, so his vision was burnt to a crisp & replaced.

Disney wanted to do a "What If" episode about Christine, Waldron watched that and continued with giving Christine / Rachel a larger part than what they were supposed to have. Because of all this padding for McAdams, PalmerStrange got stretched way out, leading to non-comic MCU fans expecting a Ross x Rachel get-together after the supposed Will They / Won't They.

Marrying Christine off in MoM gave most people a WTF reaction because it feels anti-climactic to spend 4 years on a ship they made Strange obsessively lovesick over only to not follow through on sailing it. Then we didn't stop at the wedding, we got a variant Christine to tag along in MoM, leading folks to thinking our Strange would get with her. And that doesn't happen - even after his confession PalmerStrange fans expected to at least get a kiss there. Nope.

Now we have 4 years of wasted time on a dead & static romance while making it the center of our main character's existence only to introduce what was supposed to be his real true love in a rushed & half-assed fashion during the credits of his sequel-in-name-only.

So because of the mess Disney made with PalmerStrange, we gotta have some pull back if they truly care about selling Clea as a love interest to be cared about. And maybe they don't. We'll have to see. Lol

Imo PalmerStrange has been overstretched & has done no kind of favors to Strange as this tweet perfectly sums up. Lmao

In addition to doing Strange a disservice, it also drags down Cleaphen. If she's gonna be his lover for the duration of his MCU tenure, then the mess they made with PalmerStrange needs to be cleaned up. But this assumes there's anyone besides Derrickson in the MCU who cares about Strange & Clea's characters.

Starting off, I think his ship with Clea needs to be a very slow burn across multiple films or shows whichever they are invloved in. But it needs to be spread out to provide real development & depth so it doesn't seem rushed & half-assed. Again. Lol PalmerStrange got 2 films and 2 "What If..." episodes. They could at least give Cleaphen 2 films - especially since that's the ship that's supposed to go somewhere. The romance will only ever be a subplot because there's always a bigger over-arching story that is more important.

The following is gonna be how I hink Cleaphen should be spread post-MoM. Lord knows all the MCU projects and films to come. So I am just gonna number things

Film 1 (their very next major appearance)

We need to see them as comrades first. Show them working well together as a good team. Good battle chemistry can definitely be a factor in bonding them during early stages. It would lay the groundwork of mutual respect between 2 mystic fighters & sorcerers.

After developing mutual respect for one another as comrades, slowly work toward connecting more personally which leads to a friendship. That connection could be in conversation about her family. Perhaps Clea fully introduces herself to Strange revealing the extent of who she is to him - a key thing being that she's Dormammu's niece. We can hear about her family and the emotional conflct she faces coming from such a family whom she once supported.

This would help turn the tables. We'd get someone is sharing their sob story with Strange and he's getting a chance to be the ear to listen and provide comfort to Clea in similar fashion to what he had to do for America. This would already differentiate the relationship from Christine because he'd be required put forth emotional effort in the developmental stages. Unlike Christine, Clea comes with her own regrets and dark history. She's not the Mary Sue with no hardships or wrong-doings. So while Clea can be a source of support for Stephen, he has to be there for her issues as well.

With Clea having her own very clear demons & a VERY dangerous family, Strange would not have the chance to make everything all about him & become complacent in that. If he wants her, he's gonna have to make effort insuring she is emotionally supported & fulfilled as well.

Again, we can't linger on this subplot too long because the film would have a bigger story to be told - but we have nicely continued the ship voyage - showing how they mesh as comrades since the end of MoM, and now moving into friendship in this film. This film this is should focus a bit more on Clea with Strange being a supporting factor to her since she is a major new addition to Marvel & Strange lore. We can be learning about her & building a connection simultaneously with Strange. I hate to say that after Strange played 3rd fiddle in MoM, but even with focusing on Clea, it wouldn't hurt Strange's character as bad as MoM because we are developing a character who is going to be very big & influential in his life. So end the subplot here for this film. Whatever it may be. Lol

Film 2

Next film, shift back to Strange focus. Having clearly become fond of him, have Clea inquires about Strange - his life, family, and if he has a special someone back home. He can give a brief recap of his journey from his first film. After that, he can answer that he had a special someone years ago but it ended because he wasn't the best person at the time.

That is actually similar to the comics. Strange was engaged to a woman named Madeleine St. Germaine, a patient he treated & fell for. As his attittude got worse & more materialistic, she left him. So this can be the scene we get him talking about Christine & the real reason it ended (because everything was about him - not the BS holding the knife bit that they made up for that film). With a bit of romantic interest having seeped through, Clea asks if he still has feelings for Christine based on how fondly he's still speaking of her.

With that question, we can get some perspective and admittance from Strange - that he still cares for Christine as a very good friend but his romantic interest has passed. Why? He now realizes that he mostly loved as a source of comfort & validation rather than as a true lover.

With that question, we can get some perspective and admittance from Strange - that he still cares for Christine as a very good friend but his romantic interest has passed. Why? He now realizes that he mostly loved as a source of comfort & validation rather than as a true lover.

That would be a moment of realization that shows growth & self-reflection. Strange seemed totally ooc during the MoM Christine subplot but the above would give a legit & believable reason for his obsessive lovesick behavior. it would make it seem like a needed transition to prepare him for the relationship to come and help him truly recognize the difference between limerence vs. love now that he is learning to develop relationships and friendships outside of the 1 person he was putting all his humanity & happiness on - all his eggs in 1 basket so to speak. Baskets can be overloaded and break. Christine can't be responsible for a clingy partner using her for their emotional needs while providing nothing in return for her. Again, a very one-sided relationship. With perspective, Strange will see just what kind of effort & devotion true love can pull out of a person.

Now we have to keep the movie going. Because again, this is only a subplot. We have to move back to the bigger story. Imo this is a good place to leave Cleaphen until their next appearance. The seeds of romance have been planted with Strange & Clea being closer as comrades & having connected a bit on a friendship level. We also have both characters established to each other as single. lol

Film 3

Finally, move them into official lovers territory here. How to push it over the edge? We gotta have Strange make that final leap and allow himself to be 100% raw with Clea on an emotional level. We've now had 2 films building an intimacy as comrades & friends, so it wouldn't be unrealisticly rushed for him to be at the point of opening up on the deepest level - especially having mutually developed feelings for her over the course of the previous 2 films.

Clea has learned about Strange's life-changing journey and his history with Christine which he has gained more logical & less emotional perspective on. From here, we have a solid base set for moving the relationship to its final stage. Maybe now is the time to get that big moment we've had put off for 2 solo DS films. Strange has shared his journey into soercery & prior love life with Clea, but what about his family? I don't think it'd be an instantaneous. I could see Clea asking him about it and him brushing it off early on before he finally allows himself to open up to her fully.

And THIS story could finally be the moment we expand on Donna and see the trauma that resides there. But rather than skipping right passed it, show some actual flashbacks this time. Maybe use this story to bring up his brother, Victor and the guilt of also feeling like he failed him. This would also track with his comment to Christine about how he is afraid of being genuinely close to others because he gets scared.

When he finally caves & reveals his family history to Clea, let this be a true scene where we finally see the weight of Stephen letting all this out to someone after so long and then let Clea get the chance to comfort him on his family as he did for her when he revealed her own family drama & issues. Being such a stage ready actor who truly gets into his roles, Cumberbatch would KILL a scene like this. We'd get the chance to see Strange in a very different light, at his most vulnerable, and it's a side he's only revealing to Clea (his future wife). He can start truly opening his heart with her, and continue from there to where Comics Strange made it 30+ years ago. lmao

Doctor Strange 3

Only question, where does DS3 fit into this. Above I gave bullet points for how Cleaphen can develop organically over the course of 3 film subplots. It's still a bit rushed but there's only so much time per film and gotta face facs this isn't a Soap Opera with season upon season to devote to story lines. Getting back to the 3 mystery films, which of those is DS3 and should any of them be?

Rumor is that DS3 is being fast-tracked due to the success of MoM as well as Marvel wanting to get it out before Secret Wars. This is concerning because rushed work is usually never good. Another rumor is that it will adapt Time Runs Out from the comics and be another segue into a big event.

If those 2 things are true, then a romantic subplot probaly won't have much time for real devotion. Strange already had to take a backseat in DS2, and we stiill have Clea to properly introduce. So DS3 does NOT need to take place directly after MoM. Their next appearance needs to start planting seeds for their relationship as well as devote real time to establishing Clea. DS3 is not the place to do the latter because Strange doesn't need to play second-fiddle in 2/3 of his solo films. So that definitely crosses off Film 1 as DS3 possibilities.

Realistically DS3 could be Film 2 or Film 3. But since there is a high chance of it being event-based, I don't see a romance subplot getting handled in a way that is meaningful & satisfactory which leads me to think that all these films need to be appearances & plots that take place before DS3. If it went that way, then we can come into DS3 with Clea & Cleaphen already established - without major character moments & developments rushed in favor of making sure the event threads all get included.

Thing is, DS3 is again being fast-tracked. So unless SW isn't coming out until 2034, I doubt we'll get 3 films prior with Strange & Clea. So DS3 would have to fall in F2 or F3 to have a chance at still working with Clea & Cleaphen in a satisfying way.

I lean toward Film 2 because the suggested subplot events are depthful but wouldn't need to use too many scenes. So we can get the proper focus on that while still keeping pace for the event(s). But on the other side of the argument, what film other than his own could Strange's family and trauma truly be addressed? In a team film like Avengers, he'd already have his screentime divided among 10 other characters.

Would they do a team film that gave him the major subplot that his family trauma would need? I doubt it. So either Film 3 would be DS3. Or Cleaphen & Strange get to a certain point, pause for a bit, then finish up the development in a DS4. Lol Possible, but I never entertained the idea Strange would get a 4th film. I am not against it, but just never saw it as something that would happen.

Best Option

The best option would be to give Strange a mini series. I don't care if it's animated or live action, but his character could use it. Then we could get a lot of depth & development that the films robbed him of, develop his romance with Clea, and be in a good spot to use his remaining films as tie-ins because his development was handled in a tv series and the films can be more business oriented without shafteing the character(s) arc(s) entirely.

Outro

With all that (or similar) being done, we have a ship that has slowly built from comrades to romantic interests with mutual support & investment - much more stable than the last ship Strange was on. We can still accept that Christine is an important loved one in his life while adding a deeper layer to it - acknowledging things like emotional co-dependency instead of accepting bad writing where intended love just looks like limerence with the titular character not being mentally mature enough to know the difference. lol

With a build like this for Cleaphen and an added perspective on PalmStrange being misguided on Strange's end, we can create a ship that looks adult and deep. We can buy why Clea x Strange are good together and what they see in each other. We can have real investment with real character depth & growth - turning the negatives of MoM into positives and still making future plot points work.

Or have Christine & Charles divorce, with the forner coming back for Strange, only for him to reject her because he's in love with Clea. 🤣🤣🤣 They did it with Gwen & Spider-Man, who rejected her for MJ. But I know this won't happen. So lets get back to seriousness. Lmao

With the previous mentioned time & build, MCU Cleaphen looks like a legit ship where Strange truly is with the love of his life (like Waldron said she was suppoed to be) versus looking like a rebound he would instantly dump for Christine if she ever came back.

But again, all wishful thinking to lessen my MoM hate and still be able to enjoy the idea of Cleaphen in the MCU.

I doubt we will get anything close to deep in any future films they share. 9/10 when we finally see them again, they will already be married with the entirety of their relationship progression having happened off-screen.

[cauqhtz]

Romantic Rant

Why is the romance so recycled today? It's like everyone sticks to one mold when it comes to romance in any capacity. Whether its in writing or on screen.

Unless its gay romance but we'll get into that later.

There are so many tropes that are collecting cobwebs. COMPLETELY untouched. Hell barely even explored.

So many interesting tropes I'm ITCHING to see.

Why are there no romance pieces about a mc villian. Who's a villian for the hell of it. Not because they need an excuse like childhood trauma but because they want to. and the love interest could be a hero or a bystander. An important one. Whether its in strength or connections.

And they fall in love with eachother. and the hero slowly converts to a villian. WITHOUT THE VILLIAN HAVING TO SEDUCE THEM OR COHOARSE THEM. THEY DO IT BECAUSE THEY LOVE THE VILLIAN SO MUCH. Okay.

Maybe they hide it from the villian. in fear that the villian would not love them anymore since they fell inlove with the hero side of them. but the villian finds out and reassures them that they care.

Like for example Black Fire and Connor from Titans 2018. It was blackfires (villian) dream and plan to go back to her home planet and be queen, but connor (hero) didnt want her to leave him after they'd just agreed to be a duo. So he sabotages her ship and only way back home.

She doesn't scold him or shows any hint at anger towards him. In fact she defends him against star fire who was pissed at what connor just did.

(When I say hero and villian I dont mean in the literal sense with capes and super powers. Just in general a good and bad guy.)

What about a reverse stalker trope? Kinda like the tv series YOU.

Except the mc is a sweetheart. Cries when they step on a bug types. Easy going and soft hearted. hard to please but when they are pleased. they fall hard and get obsessive. To which they admit to, though no one takes it seriously.

Love interest comes into the picture. They could be a complete nobody. A emo. Someone who's easily forgotten in a crowd. A weirdo that people tend to stray away from. been accused of murder but other than that actually pretty normal... other than the fact they've been stalking the MC and slowly inserting themselves into their lives.

They fall in love. Yada yada yada. eventually the LI finds out that the MC is connected to the murders the LI was originally accused of. So they question the MC and the MC not trying to hide it admits to everything. THe murders and eventually admitting to being the stalker and kind of manipulating the LI into thinking they were the stalker. etc etc. the MC goes onto saying it's too late to have second thoughts. it's me or death. etc

I feel like that'd be such an interesting romance show. From romantic to straight thriller.

Why are there like ZERO femdomxsubmale romances? And I'm not talking about sexually. Strictly domesticated. Like A fem character with a dominate personality dating a nerdy frail guy. Like erica and stiles.

Or Wednesday and the guy she kissed at the camp in the the addams family movie!

Or like jade and beck from victorious. (Jade was the toxic one and I dont want to here shit abt it fr.)

I literally have an original story about a queen pin x rookie cop.

Why is it that the majority of the straight romance stories with fem MC... Write them as the biggest damn red flag ever.

Why is she physically, mentally, and verbally assaulting the male love interest with the excuse of daddy issues...

This is another reason why I didnt like the enemys to lovers trope until i realize that the ones that i read werent written correctly.

This is another reason why I dont like tashiki from one piece. One of the first things she said to zoro was unbelievably offensive and unacceptable. Not to mention the fact that she likes to excuse her being WEAK because she's a woman and they are men. Talk about offensive.

I have so many on screen couples/movies/tv shows I want to talk to people about! Like:

Interview with the vampire THE SERIES. NOT THE DAMN MOVIE.

Shameless. Specifically Ian and Mickey bc they are the greatest written couple in history and the most healthy believe it or not.

And shit talk how toxic tami and lip were.

Red, White, & Royal Blue.

And literally so many more! Dm me!

[snekverse]

Ik in mystreet a lot of the chars are anime enjoyers but im gonna be so specific with ranking them and the type of anime they watch

Travis: bro's the type to only watch it early morning, mid afternoon because the daylight makes it more enjoyable and his nd ass needs the mood to be there so he can watch his favorite shows. He had a BNHA phase but over the 3rd seasons halfway point he became a Sailor Moon watcher and is now embarrassed to admit he only watches shoujo anime, specifically ones with a good magic system because shapes and colors make him happy /lh

Katelyn: Strictly a magical girl anime enjoyer. I think this is cannon but she's the type to only watch it at night when everyone is asleep so nobody walks in and asks why she's smiling 😭 she never watched the origional Soul Eater but regularly re-watches Soul Eater Not! because that still counts /lh. She never finished Sailor Moon because she wants to watch the movies on the TV but almost never has time alone 😭

Nana: She watches a large variety but refuses to watch BNHA because Bakugou just pisses her off so much 😭 whatever it is about him she just wants to claw his eyes out. She definitely bullies the 30 year old bakugou fangirls /lh

Garroth: watched like one episode of one-piece but didn't care for the art styke and dropped it 😭

Lucinda: girl watches death note and only death note. She just likes the plot and the skrunkly ass man that doesnt wear shoes he's funky and reminds her of one of her ex's when she was still comphet /lh

Aaron: "i dont like the voice acting" he's so picky. Genres don't particularly matter but if the voice acting is a certain way he won't watch it 😭😭

Jeffory: He put on Madoka Magica with Abby thinking it was a cute show to occupy her with when he was too tired one day to play. It in fact was not just a cute magical girl show. She isn't allowed to watch anime he doesn't do research on now no matter how innocent it looks /lh

God... all of these are so true... Aaron just like me fr lol

Travis FOR SURE is a shoujo and shounen enthusiast,, heavy preference for shoujo. He def also watched, or at least tried to watch, a bunch of classic ie Naruto, DBZ, all that wackass 90s/early 2000s stuff lol. He def doesn't watch them anymore but still looks back fondly <3

Katelyn for sure is a softie for magical girl animes and probably enjoys watching shoujos with Travis from time to time, but she vehemently denies it all. I think she would really wanna cosplay some of the characters but would uncomfy with,,,, all of it lol

Nana watches anything popular until she decides that it sucks ass, which doesn't happen very frequently but she def watched episode 1 of BNHA and gave it a HARD pass bc.. yknow.. Bakugou.. anyways she is easily the most involved in Fandom culture and for sure starts shipping discourse for fun lol

I think garroth would be pretty off-put about a lot of anime tropes/genres and would generally not enjoy it but you're so right like so many people in his life watch anime he's gotta at least try right?? Don't ask me where this come from, but lowkey he seems like the kind of guy to accidentally watch a hanime and not realize until if was too late...

Lucinda def does not strike me as someone who really watches anime like at all,, unless the art style is genuinely just gorgeous beyond reason. That being said, I think she's a huge supporter of women's wrongs and would be interested in fucked up (female) charas like Makima from JJK. I don't think she'd ever get around to watching it, but she'd like all the fanart n shit and lowkey be involved in the fandom

Aaron is spot on lol no notes. He started watching it for Aphmau’s sake and while he doesn't dislike it its only very specific anime that he does like. Literally if anything is off it becomes just about unwatchable for him

Jeffory I think started watching because Katelyn used to be SUPER into anime and while he likes it a lot he rarely ever watches, partially bc he's such a busy guy. He def talks about anime the same way a parent would yknow?? Like he's trying to be interested and supportive but he's so out of touch now that he has no fuckin idea what's going on anymore lmao

Aphmau only watches super cutesy things, and sometimes shounens. She seems like the kind of person though he can't for the life of her sit through an entire show, but she's always super active in the fandom and despite never finishing the anime and not reading the manga, she's always up to date on what's going on plot-wise (def not projecting nope no way). The only exception is Attack on Titan which she's seen in full several times

Zane is almost the opposite, generally preferring shows with darker themes and goreier visuals. I generally think he tries to stay away from fandom spaces until he's up to date, and while I think he'd prefer to read the manga before watching the anime that takes a LOT more time and his free time's limited enough as is

[mayxthexforce]

🗣️ 🗣️

Send 🗣️ and I'll share a random opinion I have about something

1. This might sound hypocritical because I roleplay Luke as a bisexual man and have only roleplayed him in M/M relationships so far (someone get me Mara Jade, I'm BEGGING), but I hate the way the fandom 'feminizes' Luke just because he's a twink and gets perceived as a submissive/bottom. Like, it's so clear with some people that they're just doing it because he's short and skinnier and not as 'masculine' as other characters, it's throwing us back 20 years when it comes to not falling into misogynistic gender roles. You ship Luke with a man and wanna draw or write Luke wearing his mom's dresses? Be my guest, he rocks Padme's fits, but question yourself on why you only depict HIM wearing girly clothes or behaving in a conventionally feminine way and not Din or Boba or Han or whatever other guy he's being shipped with. Especially with the mandos, it makes me raise a brow because mandalorian kamas are skirts that they all wear regardless of gender, yet they're not depicted wearing their fancy kamas while Luke is depicted in a dress solely because he's a twink in a fancy setting.

2. Few things throw me off more than people who are like "Don't try to interact with my male muse/canon muse unless you have a thread with my female muse/OC". I don't understand why anyone would be okay with forcing someone to interact with a muse they didn't show any interest in. IMO, it shows that they are only here to get what THEY want without a care for their partners' preferences. I have female muses, I have OCs, I have muses who nobody has shown interest in and I wish they did. But I would never tell someone they HAVE TO roleplay with that muse if they want any of the others, it's a dick move AND I'd be constantly thinking about how that person isn't actually interested in that muse and is just doing it to get something else out of me.

[willsimpforazula]

Drabble rabble that got out of hand, I s'pose

So there I was, patiently waiting for Jigokuraku (Hell's Paradise) to air ever since I saw the trailer about a year ago and having just watched the first ep...I thought yeah a Sokkla dynamic would work pretty neato for this AU So here it is ig.....might revisit this AU when at least the anime is done airing but we shall see...the Jigokuraku that nobody asked for but was living in my noggin rent free like a thieving bastard feedback is welcome (except when it comes to sokkla criticism, they are best ship and no, i will not elaborate) ____________

Courtyard

It was supposed to be a standard affair, as far as executions went. Granted, it wasn't every day one got to watch a shinobi get executed. After all, they were supposed to be nigh uncatchable, with their ability to get out of impossible situations attributed to some form of trickery or otherworldly means. That being said, the one now kneeling in front of him clearly used up all his luck and seemed resigned to his fate.

On the other hand, the girl standing in the back with a brush and book in hand puzzled him slightly. She was from the Yamada Clan, of that he was sure, but her reasoning for being there was not revealed to him (not that he cared, of course). Turning his attention back to the execution at hand, he expected the former shinobi's head to be rolling on the ground.

However, what he did not expect was a sigh that could only be interpreted as a bored eye roll as his head remained firmly attached to his neck with nary a scratch. Thinking that he must be hallucinating, the executioner swung his sword over and over again, but instead the blade shattered. Shocked, the judge quickly called off the event and had the prisoner sent back to his cell. Meanwhile, the Yamada Clan girl merely jotted down some observations in her book. ---------

Prison Cell

Why can't I just die?

I don't have anything left to live for.

So why?

Lost in his thoughts, Sokka didn't hear the door open, nor did he look up at his visitor. In fact, he thought of her as a nuisance, a persistent bug much like the mosquitoes who, absent the lack of ability to be squashed by his palms courtesy of his chains, would not stop pestering him with question after question.

"Your name is Sokka, correct?"

"Last I checked it was, I think. Unless you've somehow found a different name that I don't know about."

"You were raised since childhood to be a shinobi, correct? I heard that for every ten boys who undergo the training process, only three make it out alive."

"Your point?"

"Those who survived develop superhuman bodies. Like being able to break blades with your own flesh."

"Big deal. Besides, you and I both know that swordsman was a complete fucking amateur. I didn't even have to use ninjutsu."

"You can use ninjutsu? Could you show me some of your techniques?"

"And here I thought you were here for my good looks. I'm hurt." he replied, making sure to double up on the sarcasm.

"Perhaps in a different life, I suppose. Unfortunately, you do not interest me in the slightest in your current iteration. In any case, you did not answer my question."

"What could ninjutsu from a condemned shinobi possibly be of use to you?"

"Research, I suppose. It's not every day you get the chance to interview a shinobi."

"Nope, not a chance lady. My secrets die with me and that's the end of it."

_______________

The next day…..

"Look, I promise you, I really am not trying to resist. If anything, I wish you'd kill me instead of those half assed jokers."

"Mmm."

"If you're gonna look away, then why not ask the guards to give me a fresh change of clothes?"

When she ignored him, Sokka responded "Oi, I'm talking to you. Didn't your parents teach you to look at someone when they're talking to you?"

"Mmhmm." she replied as she scribbled some more observations in her book.

"And?"

"I'm here to record the events as it unfolds. Your present state of undress is of no concern to me."

"And yet here you are averting your gaze. Afraid of being seduced?"

Choosing to ignore his question, she instead asked "Tell me more about your background."

"Here we go again. For the one hundredth time, I've told you my background isn't interesting."

"I have a job to do."

"Ugh..fine. No wonder you're not engaged yet, I pity the fool who has to marry you."

"My current relationship status is of no concern to you." she replied, a bit too quickly.

"Nailed it." he smirked.

"I swear by the spirits you're just like my bro-never mind. Tell me about your background."

Deciding that her unwittingly letting slip that she had a brother was sufficient exchange for his information, he obliged her.

"To be honest, I don't know much. I was told that the chief killed them and adopted me and my sister. As for dreams, nope, I don't have any. Shinobi like us aren't to concern ourselves with the bigger picture, merely to concern ourselves with the killing of whoever the chief deemed needed to be eliminated."

"I see. Do you know why you were caught?"

"Hmm….it was a set up. I tried to leave and word got out to the chief I suppose. No one can be allowed to leave our village."

Keeping her golden eyes fixed on his, she asked "Why did you try to leave?"

Unfortunately, she did not get an answer, only being met with a long silence. Deciding that she had probably overstayed her welcome, she got up and left.

________________________

A few days later…

Staring at the sky, Sokka busied himself by picking out shapes of clouds in the sky while the magistrate's men worked to attach ropes to his legs to two bulls, whilst the magistrate himself, a rotund bald man with an ego larger than his body size would allow for, cackled with delight as he was worried that news would get back to the shogunate that he was not capable of a performing a simple execution and thus, risk his neck being the one on the chopping block.

Alas, his efforts came to naught as instead, a tug from Sokka's ankles brought the bulls crashing into each other instead of splitting him apart. At this, the magistrate lost his temper and began to bark orders to his men.

"Don't you think it rather strange?" the girl approached him, her now signature notebook and brush in hand poised to record more notes.

"No, why?" Sokka asked

"It seems to me that despite your statements of wanting to die, your actions contradict them. Why would someone with no reason to live, clin-never mind. You never did answer my question the previous day."

"Who gives a shit about your questions, just kill him already!" the magistrate fumed.

Waving her hand, she replied "I'm working."

"What about the-"

"Later. Now, would you answer my question or not?"

"Tsk, so demanding. Fine, whatever."

"I'm listening."

"I was the best shinobi in the entire village. I had his word that my sister would be well taken care of while I remained his best blade. Surprisingly, he kept his word. Still, keeping her ignorant of the wider world for much longer was not an option, as was seeing her married off to some shinobi like me who has only seen the ugliest the world has to offer. That is no way to live. As her only surviving relation, how can I do that to her and still claim to be the protective big brother? I'd be spitting on my parents' grave if I did so.  And so that's how I ended up being captured, set up by the chief who forbade anyone from venturing beyond our village. There you have it. Happy now?"

"Thank you for your answer."

_______________________

Later that night….

"Perhaps it's not my place to say, but a young pretty woman like yourself should not get any closer to someone like him." one of the magistrate's men commented as they made their rounds.

"Thanks for your concern, but I can handle myself. I am from the Yamada clan, afterall."

"Do you know his name?"

"Of course, it would be silly if I hadn't. His name is Sokka, former shinobi of Iwagakure."

"I mean his other name. Sokka the Hollow. An emotionless monster, he slew twenty men when he was arrested. Rumour has it that the shinobi of Iwagakure drink some sort of potion of immortality, that's why they are unkillable. That potion comes from Shinsenkyo."

"Potion huh…." she pondered, her golden eyes.

"Forget I spoke such nonsense. In any case, he's a dangerous man and you would be wise to be on guard."

"If he really is as hollow and emotionless as you say he is, then why did he fight back so hard as he did? You don't fight like that, not unless you have something to live for."

A week later…

When the attempt to condemn Sokka to death via boiling oil failed once more, this time with casualties to his own men, the magistrate was on the verge of tears and was about to snatch the sword in his office and either kill Sokka himself or commit seppuku.

"You know, I'm ready any time." she reminded him.

At this, the magistrate's expression changed, as if he had suddenly stumbled upon an epiphany.

_________________

Two days later

"So, what's it going to be this time? Explosives? Poison? Or maybe…a combination of both?" Sokka sarcastically asked as he was escorted to some form of room at the end of a tunnel.

"You'll see."

Entering the room, Sokka saw her seated, her hands resting on her thighs while her face wore an expression of meditation. When she looked up, she untied the ribbon from her shoulder and redid her hair before standing up.

"What is this, are you going to fuck me to death or some shit? This has got to be some sick joke, stop fucking around."

"Oh ho, you think she's just some inspector from the shogunate huh? No, she is no mere inspector, she's a sword tester sent here straight from Edo." As he said this, he could see her draw her katana from her scabbard, her familiarity with the weapon evident.

"She is the executioner Yamada Asaemon Azula. Her family has served the shogun as sword testers and executioners for generations. All of their clansfolk are trained in the art of swordsmanship."

"You-you're an Asaemon?"

"Yes, that is correct. Sokka the Hollow, you said you wished for your execution. Today, I shall grant you that very wish." she answered, her golden eyes narrowing to a singular focus, that being the removal of his head from his body.

Well fuck me to tears, this girl's the real deal, his mind told him. Instinctively, he flexed his his wrists and broke the chains that bound his hands, shattering them into mere firewood.

"Azula-dono, kill him!" the magistrate screeched.

With a lunge, she thrust forward, landing a nick on his neck as he dodged and rolled away to the side.

"Why did you dodge my blow?" Azula asked, her voice quizzical.

"I-" Before he could respond, she leapt at him once more, forcing him to leap away to safety.

Do..Do I really not want to die? Sokka thought to himself, as she took a deep breath and reset herself.

"I've executed many criminals throughout my time. Some put up a brave front, right up till just before their death. Some beg for mercy, others deceive themselves and say they have accepted their fate. Sokka the Hollow, I can sense that the void in your heart is indeed larger than anyone here in this room, of that I am sure. But you still want to live, that I am sure."

At this, memories of his sister flashed into his mind, making him see red. In a flash he snatched a katana from one of the guardsmen and lunged at her before the hapless man knew what had happened.

"Admit it, you kept on living for her." Azula calmly responded, as their blades clashed and gold eyes met blue.

"And yet you lie to my face every single time I visit, telling me that you have no attachments to this world and that you're ready to face death."

"Shut the fuck up! You know nothing about me! Nothing!" he screamed, before launching into a series of vicious strikes that caught her off guard and had her on the defensive, only just being able to parry the multitude of strikes that would have dealt any lesser swordsman a killing blow multiple times over, as echoes of his promise to his sister just before he left on that fateful mission repeated over and over like a broken record.

"LISTEN TO ME, THERE IS A WAY OUT!" she shouted, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Unfurling a scroll, she showed him the decree "This is an official pardon, straight from the shogun himself. With this, you are a free man and are untouchable; not me, the magistrate or your village chief could harm you. On one condition."

"And that is?"

"You will travel to the Underworld and retrieve the Elixir of Immortality."

"What do you mean, travel to the Underworld? Doesn't that mean you'll just kill me? How does that work?"

"No. For centuries there was believed to be a land free from pain and suffering, a land teeming with abundance and joy, far to the southern seas. For centuries sailors and explorers have scoured the far oceans for such a place, and now, they have found it, just as the scripts have described it. There, it seems, one can find this immortal life giving elixir. Many have tried on orders of the shogunate in Edo, but none came back alive. Those that did return, looked barely human at all."

"That sounds like a bunch of mythical bullshit you feed to toddlers."

"That's what I thought too…until I saw the bodies first hand. I came here, looking for candidates with a burning passion to live and skills to back it up. On my way here, I heard that your sister is still in Iwagakure, waiting everyday by the village entrance for you."

"I….."

"One last thing, you will not be going in solo. There are other Asaemon pairs who are also jockeying for a chance at redemption.Thus, I now offer you this choice; accept this mission and win not only freedom for yourself, but also for your sister or die a criminal's death here and now."

"This is ridiculous. The shogun couldn't possibly have issued this decree. He is but one of many, what makes him so special? Guards!"

Closing his eyes, all Sokka could see was the face of his sister, waiting anxiously at the village entrance for his safe return.

Katara…I'm coming back…I promise…

In a small voice, he asked "Azula….remember when you asked if you could see ninjutsu?"

"Yes?"

"Then watch and learn." he calmly replied, his mind moving into a trance like state as flames emerged from his body, the heat causing her to raise her arms while the brightness made her blink as she heard him whisper: Ninpo - Ascetic Blaze.

In a flash of light and smoke, six charred bodies lay in a pile, atop which Sokka sat as small embers danced on his fingertips.

"Impressive. I hope that you would be willing to teach me some of your tricks during our travels."

"Sure, whatever you say. Where do we go from here?" he replied as she resheathed her katana.

"Edo."

"What? Why not head straight there?"

"You do as I say or the deal's off."

"Alright alright, calm down, I'll do as you say."

"That sounds more like it." she replied, a small smile gracing her lips that told Sokka she was definitely going to be handful on their trip

[cleverthylacine]

Nobody here is denying that It's good to have the skills required to be able to figure out what the author probably wants you to think they are saying. Nobody is trying to tell anyone that it's better to be ignorant of how a creator's biases come through in their storytelling.

The problem is that in fandom arguments, every time someone brings up the Author's Intentions, they're using it as an Appeal to Authority to try and convince people who disagree with them that they are Very Very Wrong.

These discussions are not about what Death of the Author really means in an academic setting, and they are not rational exchanges of ideas about the author or the canon. They're wank.

9 times out of 10 the actual positions being debated are:

I think your ship is BAD and since the canon doesn't seem to support it I'm going to invoke the author's intentions.

I don't like it that you are sympathising with the Designated Bad Guys and making them more relatable while pointing out all the jerkass shit the Designated Good Guys have in fact actually done in canon, so I'm going to say that the Designated Good Guys really are the good guys, because the author said they were.

That author is a terrible person (which may be extremely true) and you should all stop liking the stuff they made, so I'm going to explain to you exactly how the story you think you like is full of moral and ethical problems that are there because the Author is Bad, and You Should Care About That.

None of these arguments have the potential to ever be anything but wank, even in situations where the argument is about the creator, and the creator really and truly objectively is ten pounds of shit in a six pound bag.

(My childhood book fandom was not Harry Potter. It was Darkover, and Marion Zimmer Bradley was a horrible person, but no, that was not always obvious from her books. If you are looking for hints on that now you will probably find them, but that's because the idea is already in your head. The thousands of people who loved those books when they were written 40-50 years ago were all gobsmacked.)

Arguments about Death of the Author are just an attempt by one side or the other to make the other side look stupid or depraved. Nobody's trying to deny that the author had intentions or that those intentions might matter in some other, more academic setting. They just want people to stop telling them what to do.

I particularly hate the accusation of "bad faith reading." Unless you're an anti, you probably don't read or watch things you didn't expect to enjoy. The people who write fanfics that get them accused of "bad faith reading" are usually people who really loved the source material until the author did something that completely pissed them off.

(I know this because I'm frequently one of those people.)

They probably still love the source material. They just want to know why Megatron is the bad guy when he's trying to overthrow an oppressive government that kills his people, and Optimus is telling him that his people should be more patient with the system. Or maybe they want to know why there are apparently no wizards in Amnesty International, because those people would have done something about Azkaban, wouldn't they?

Pretty much every wank about people needing to be more into media analysis or whether or not a show is killing off female characters because it's written by sexists or because it's about Jack the Ripper is disingenuous, because what it's really about is which fandom take is correct and which ones are not.

i know a bastardized version of “death of the author” is popular with the kids these days but there’s value in knowing what an author meant even if you disagree with their message or don’t think they did a good job conveying it or don’t personally like them. literature has a purpose beyond using it for your own personal moralizing or as a basis for fanfic. and for a group of people who are like “the author meant the curtains were fucking blue,” there’s also an obsession with putting every single word under a microscope to maximize the worst-faith readings they can take from it.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings

Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----

Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.

He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.

But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.

This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.

(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)

(His sister only laughs.)

It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.

"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.

"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."

"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.

He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.

"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.

(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)

(They no longer ask.)

"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."

Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"

"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."

He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."

"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."

"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"

"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"

"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."

Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.

She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"

"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.

"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.

"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.

Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.

----

"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."

He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.

"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."

"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.

"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"

"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.

Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.

Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."

Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"

Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"

Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"

"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."

"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"

"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."

Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"

"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."

"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."

Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.

"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."

"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."

Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.

"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."

She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.

The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.

Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.

----

It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.

"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."

Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.

Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"

Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."

Or not.

"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."

That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"

Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.

She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.

"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.

"Time for Shmi?" she asks.

Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."

"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."

"Don't start."

"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."

"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."

"You ended a civil war, sir."

Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.

"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."

"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."

"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."

"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.

"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."

"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.

"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."

"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."

"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."

Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.

She can do it.

It's just annoying.

Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.

----

"Can I see your fonts?"

Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.

"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"

"Mando'a, please."

He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.

She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.

Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.

Half an hour, and then Ben returns.

He points to a font. "This one."

"What's it going to say?"

"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."

"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."

She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.

"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"

"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."

"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."

"That too," she agrees.

When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.

"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."

Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.

He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."

He's such a polite child.

It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.

----

"Hi!"

Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.

That's new.

"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."

"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"

"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"

"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"

"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."

Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"

"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."

"Thank you~!"

----

Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.

----

Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.

His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.

Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.

Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.

"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."

Ben shakes his head. "No way."

"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"

"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.

"No!" both immediately yelp.

She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.

Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.

"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."

"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."

"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"

"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."

"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."

Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"

"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."

"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.

Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.

"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"

"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.

"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.

"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."

"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"

Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.

"No," Ben says.

"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."

It's a neat enough explanation.

It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.

She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.

"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."

Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.

"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."

"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."

"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."

"Is that why you want me to take that route?"

"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."

Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."

"Imagine his face, though."

Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.

"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."

----

Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.

There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.

Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.

"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.

"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."

"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"

"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.

She can almost feel the coming question.

It does not come from the human she expects.

"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.

She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"

"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."

"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.

"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."

It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.

"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."

He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.

Ben mimics his father.

----

She gets to attend the wedding, months later.

The food is very, very good.

(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)

(So does Shmi.)

(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)

----

"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"

Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.

"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.

Or until she gets bored.

"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"

They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.

At great volume.

(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)

"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."

"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."

"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."

"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."

Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"

"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"

"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."

"Ehhhh..."

Nope.

Not paying attention.

----

"These are House Kryze colors."

Ylliben's breath hitches.

He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.

"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.

"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."

Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.

"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?

"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."

"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."

Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.

They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.

"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"

"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.

She does not ask further.

----

"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."

Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.

Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...

"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.

"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."

"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."

Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.

"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."

She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."

"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"

"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."

"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"

Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."

"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"

Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.

"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."

Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"

"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.

"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"

"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.

----

As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.

(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)

There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.

For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.

Then, the Jedi and his children leave.

(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)

(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)

[akookminsupporter]

It's really scary and sad how some people just completely disregard the safety rule when it comes to their ship. Spreading pictures was never okay but some people just can't understand that because if they leak pictures and spread them around they really think they can prove something. And it goes for taekookers and jikookers as well (not all of them). I feel like for >some< fans, they completely shifted into this weird headspace where all they care about is trying to prove that someone likes someone more because they were spotted one time and here's a picture. Newflash: they have been in a band for over 10 years now, of course they hang out together. Them enjoying each others company and going on dates (=as in: 2 people only but not romantically but idk how you call that in english other than a date) does not prove that said members actually hate the others. That's so fucking stupid but we are still here every single fucking day, fighting people on the internet who literally zero on in one thing and never let that go. And even if someone goes on a date-date (like a romantical one)? That's also none of our fucking business. How about we start treating the boys as actual human beings and not like items. We do not have ANY right to interfere in their personal lives. We do not have the right to see into it unless they actually want to share something. And we certainly do not have the right to leak pictures of them and spread them around like they are mere zoo animals. It infuriates me.

And you know what's the other fucked up thing? Someone I follow quoted a tweet for report and it was literally an account made for posting what Seokjin eats in the military daily. WHY and WHO THE FUCK needs that kind of information. NOBODY. Nobody should have access to that. His training location is not public. We should NOT have ANY information on how he is doing unless HE HIMSELF or one of the other MEMBERS share something with us. And it's really fucked up how some people try to gaslight others and claim it's okay because it's a public site and the military shares it. Who the fuck cares. Seokjin did not consent to this. He is basically owned by the military right now (not literally but i hope you know what i mean). And he's the most well-known person who has ever served in that country, the military >WILL< exploit him and he can't do anything in order to stop that. And people who just disregard these things and claim it's okay to know these things because the military made it public are the fucking problem. And they are the reason the rest of the boys will be exploited too. Military service is already a fucking stressful thing to do. Seokjin doesn't need another reason to be stalked and talked about and be stressed. And neither do the other boys. Their military outpost/training centre is literally contributing to this stalking... It's fucking disgusting.

I needed said: I’m going to Rosie’s blog to say THE TRUTH.

“I feel like for >some< fans, they completely shifted into this weird headspace where all they care about is trying to prove that someone likes someone more because they were spotted one time and here's a picture.”

The saddest thing is that this is all about them, about feeling that they "won", about feeling that they were right. People who do that only care about feeling that they know everything but they don't care about the members. They are just the protagonists of their fantasies. That's why a lot in the subgroup for example, they get upset when Tae but especially Jungkook, don't behave the way they want to.

[writingonpaperpetals]

Taking Care Of Drunk Reader

Characters: Rosaria, Kaeya, Childe, and Beidou

SFW

notes + cw: alcohol, reader is drunk, harassment from a stranger (all four), attempted drink drugging from a stranger (rosaria), the characters are protective of reader (all four), canon-typical violence

Rosaria

Deals with drunk Kaeya all the time, so she can take care of you the best out of the whole group. Wether the reader is a sad or giggly drunk, she doesn't mind talking you through it. If you need a shoulder to cry on she's there. If you want someone to eyeroll or rarely smirk at your dumb jokes, she's there.

She is instantly on high alert, watching your drink like a hawk. The look on her face scares away most potential weirdos trying to mess with you. If she catches anyone trying to mess with you or your drink she’ll grab their wrist. Then they get dragged outside and you’ll never see them again for a while. If you do see them, they run away when they spot you. Rosaria feigns ignorance about what happened if asked.

Rosaria thinks you're very cute when drunk, but she wouldn't say this. If you nap on her shoulder her frigid heart will melt and she'll pet your hair with her long metal nails running through your hair. But if you mention it to her when sober she'll pretend it didn't happen.

If she needs to take you home and you can't walk she'll toss you in a fireman carry and leave. Asking her to carry you princess style will actually make her flustered but she'll comply. She is completely at the mercy of your drunk whims, even if she acts like you're a handful. You want to pet the fluffy doggie you just saw? She'll put you down and watch you pet it. You want to buy a snack from the local street vendor? She'll buy it for you. You want her to stay home and cuddle? Fine, but she'll have to leave in like two hours. Nothing is too much for her.

Kaeya

Is probably drunk too with you. Kaeya is very good at keeping himself in control, which is how he's able to get information from other drunk people who can't control their tongue. It's why he's a good drinking buddy--he can stop you if you get too far and also join in on the fun.

Would enable you to do stupid stuff because he thinks it's funny. Probably has a Fontaine Kamera hidden away somewhere to take pictures of your antics. But if you want to do something potentially life threatening he'll shoot you with sad puppy eyes and tell you he can't stand the idea of losing his precious Reader. Which is enough to make you back down.

Likes to appear behind weirdos trying to chat you up (How DOES he do that if he was sitting right next to you? He won't tell you.) and clamp down on their shoulder with a menacing smile on his face and ask them if they're having fun chatting with you. He leans into their ear and whispers some kind of threat which scares them shitless into running away. You both laugh about it later.

Would hook your arm around his shoulder and walk you home. He doesn't trust himself to carry you since he's drunk too and doesn't want you to get hurt. Kaeya likes feeling needed, so he doesn't mind taking care of you. He’ll place a glass of water on your nightstand with some bananas or other electrolyte-filled snack he can find from your pantry. If he doesn’t find any he’ll go to the store and get one for you. He’ll place a quick peck on your forehead and leave if you don’t grab him by the fluffy boa and ask him to stay.

Childe

Much like Rosaria, Childe is very protective of you when you’re drunk. He'll openly hook an arm around you and look at anyone who tries to chat you up but won't go further than that. Unless they turn out to be a threat. Then he'll either launch them through a wall or if they look strong he'll leap up and challenge them to a duel so he can show off to you.

Drunk Reader and drunk Childe together are horrible recipes for disaster, and he knows this. Someone has to be the responsible one here, so he'll usually drink less than you. But it takes a lot to get him drunk, because his drink of choice is Fire-Water which is very strong stuff. So you won't see him drunk unless you happen to be drinking it together.

Childe would love to share Fire-Water with you out in the cold. So he can eventually huddle close to you as you both shiver after the heat leaves you. He doesn’t drink too much of it often--only a few mouthfuls. It’s enough to get him buzzed which is enough for him. He saves getting drunk for special occasions. Mostly because getting Childe drunk is how you nuke an entire city. If Childe feels spicy he’ll pour Fire-Water in his mouth and lock lips with you.

Childe loves being a provider and taking care of you while you're like this. He finds it cute that you're stumbling around in your state. You trip and he instantly catches you. You can't walk? Don’t worry you’re already in his arms, no more walking home needed! He snuggles up with you that night and makes you breakfast, giving you a big smooch on the cheek. He greets you with a cheerful, energetic “Good morning comrade!” once you’re up.

Beidou

Absolute queen of protecting you. She’s always watching you to make sure you don’t go tumbling into the ocean, steering you away from climbing anything dangerous or getting near rails. Punches weirdos in the face who bother you and gets away with it because she’s Captain Beidou of The Crux Fleet, nobody smart would raise a hand against her.

Keeps water on her in a separate bottle than the one she drinks alcohol from. It gets hot on the Fleet and she loves alcohol, so she loses a lot of water daily. Same for nuts or coconut water--If you’re on a voyage with her or hanging out on her ship while drinking she’ll likely offer you some to replenish your electrolytes. Her supply ships are stocked with many delicious foods, so all you need is to ask her for something and she’ll go get it for you.

Beidou’s behavior around you is different if you’re on land or on the Crux. Beidou on the Crux is more relaxed, probably drinking even more than you on a normal night. She doesn’t need to worry about you as much as she does on shore. You’re surrounded by those she trusts. On shore it’s different. She drinks less than you and sometimes not at all. She pretends her arms around your waist are just plain affection and that you shouldn’t look into it--but the truth is that she’s afraid. Afraid of what might happen if she lets go of you for even a second in your vulnerable state.

Tosses you over her shoulder and takes you to your shared room if you start acting sleepy. Is very gentle tucking you in bed and pats your head, asking you if you want something. Beidou will set a cup of water next to your bed if you tell her you don’t want anything. If she’s sleepy too she’ll roll into bed and cling to you with her big buff arms.