#but stop denying the facts just to justify your opinion.

[the-crow-binary]

We have two series about freaking PACMAN and they're both 40+ episodes. And you're telling me CASTLEVANIA didnt have enough plot to make less than 40 episodes ?? CASTLEVANIA ????

You're really trying to tell me that someone had the inspiration to create a whole ass cartoon about pacman with only "yellow circle flees from and eats ghosts" as a premise, but "an ancestral clan trapped in a cycle of violence, trauma and grief must defeat the Dark Lord Dracula, the most powerful being to have ever existed, every 100 years. They cant escape their fate, for they are the only men capable of killing him, due to their superhuman abilities and their main weapon, the Vampire Killer, wich both have been passed down for generations since Leon Belmont, the Dark Lord's old friend, who sworn for his clan to hunt him for eternity." Is "NOT ENOUGH PLOT" ???

AND THIS IS JUST A SHORT, GLOBAL SUMMARY. THERE'S SO MUCH MORE TO CASTLEVANIA CHARACTERS AND GAMES.

Y'all need to stop insulting the original media to defend your stuff (wich wouldnt exist without said media). Dare I say, if you need to bring the games down to lift the serie up, then there's a problem with your serie. And you also need to stop giving stupid excuses to incompetent writers.

Castlevania has a heart, it was possible to make a serie out of it without butchering it.

[eff-plays]

What do you think about the claims that Astarion fans who are headcanoning him as being soft and romantic with Tav are just stealing this character trait from Wyll? It's been going on in the fandom for a while and it's frankly getting annoying. I know many people (haters and fans alike) likely never played the game beyond Act 1 and/or think Astarion is like that throughout the entire story, that he's evil and incapable of changing as a character, but saying he doesn't have any romantic moments is just...not true?

Ooooh!! Interesting question and I have opinions on it that are, I hope, a bit more nuanced here as a stan of both Astarion and Wyll.

It's gonna be a bit of a mess to explain though so please bear with me as I try to untangle this conundrum.

I think!! That both sides have a point but are just sorta talking past each other a bit.

Does Astarion display a lot of gentleness and softness toward Tav in Act 2 and his Spawn ending? Yes! Absolutely!! People who deny this or argue that him displaying these canonical traits is "stealing" from Wyll are, in my opinion, incorrect, and are letting their somewhat justifiable personal dislike for the guy and the very justified distaste for how the fandom treats him compared to Wyll bleed into their perception of this specific part of his portrayal.

HOWEVER.

A lot of people who enjoy Soft!Astarion do end up stepping into the same cow plops as the Dom Daddy Astarion stans, in that their equivalent of romantic, soft Astarion is the classic gentlemanly, smooth-talking, chivalrous guy who knows how to woo his lover in the traditional, classic ways. I do not think this is, um, faithful to his character. At all. This is the aspect that some fans, in an attempt to express that Astarion can be gentle and romantic, end up either accidentally or purposefully "stealing" from Wyll.

The fact that Astarion can and will be soft and gentle in a romance is conflated with how he would express those feelings, in the typical fandom way of "well I like this guy and I like the idea of these things so I will attribute those things to this guy". Which in this case just ends up taking away from Wyll. Like, if you supposedly "like" the idea of a traditionally romantic and smooth character, why are you then assigning those traits to a guy who is neither of those things, when a guy who IS those things gets a suspicious zero of your attention?

Am I making sense?

Astarion IS capable of being gentle and soft with his lover, but he would not EXPRESS it the way Wyll would. And by making Astarion express something he would feel in a way that's more Wyll-flavored, it does raise some flags. If this is the dynamic you're interested in, why aren't you into Wyll more? If you're interested in Astarion being soft, why don't you like him expressing it how he would express it, aka being awkward, goofy, inexperienced, and saccharine? If you love Astarion so much, why are you assigning to him the traits of a different guy?

Why are you taking Wyll's expressions of love to make Astarion more palatable and suited to your tastes? What is it about Wyll that you don't like if his expressions and characteristics fit your preferences more? Ya feel me?

So when some people say that "Astarion wouldn't be soft and romantic, stop stealing from Wyll!" what they usually mean is "Astarion would not express himself this way, and you taking stuff from a Black character and giving them to a white dude is kinda sus and I'm tired of it."

And what Astarion fans hear is "Your guy is fuck and I hate him. Here's me denying his canonical depth and character growth."

You get me??

On that note, I also have some thots on character-swapping in cutscenes, which is slightly related to this. On the one hand, I think it's like whatever, ya know? I've seen tons of gifs where somebody swapped in Solas and Lavellan into the dance at the ball in DA:I. Make your guys do whatever. I even have a scene planned in my fic where Astarion dances with Hiraeth (though not like that, it's a bit more intimate/awkward cuz Astarion is self-conscious and weird aobut it), so I don't think he wouldn't dance with Tav. I just don't think he'd do it how Wyll would do it.

But when you see Astarion and Gale gifs dancing with Tav over and over and over and over, while seeing Wyll swapped in for someone else happens once upon a dream (I've literally only seen Wyll standing in for Astarion in the forest sex scene ONCE), it does sorta ... Leave a taste in ya mouth, ya know? Like if you want a romance with a cute dance scene ... There is already a guy ... You definitely know about him. And while I don't think every individual person who wants to see their OC dance with their love interest is inherently racist for character-swapping, it becoming a trend in fandom that fails to produce the same amount of content for the Black character whose cutscenes they're using is still, uh, yikes. Ya know? Like the fandom loves the cutscene but Wyll's presence in his own content is rare. For some reason.

[tarmac-rat]

OC Smash or Pass

Tagged by the fabulous trio of @trashcatsnark @beammeupbroadway and @glitchinginthegarden to put my girl up for vetting here :3

RULES: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

First image by me, second image by @togepies, third image by @janeofthechoir12, fourth image/artwork by @letsjam-art

Quick Facts

Full Name: Riley "V" Bakker Aldana V Height: 5'9" Age: 24 (DOB: December 10th, 2052) Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Bisexual Features: Mop of electric blue hair + shaved sides, neon green glow-in-the-dark Kiroshis, severely crooked nose, light splash of freckles, scar over the right corner of her lip, blue cloud tattoo sleeve down her left arm, steel-plated cybernetic right leg, incurable case of RBF

Pros

Cute in that 'girl next door' kinda way. Takes just enough care of her looks to not look like a total slob, and knows how to class it up when she wants to/sees a need to.

Once she warms up to a person, there's nothing on heaven or earth she wouldn't move for them.

Loves driving. Will let you be a passenger princess on the back of her beloved Kusanagi CT-3X. She might even let you DJ if she's in a good mood (but absolutely no Samurai).

While she prefers to be on top, she's got no qualms with feeling out the situation and switching around as her partners desire. Position-wise, she's a Swiss Army Knife.

Lowkey very funny when she wants to be, and isn't above poking fun at herself when she does something dumb.

A mechanic at heart who loves tuning bikes and modding guns. She loves giving gifts and she'll make you homemade shit she MacGyvered out of an old radio if you're into that kind of thing.

Secret cuddler. She'll deny it, but she is.

Cons

Anger issues up the wazoo. Hope your love language is shouting matches!

Wardrobe consists almost entirely of old tank tops and cargo pants.

Tends to assume the worst in people right off the bat and she'll take any reason she can to justify her opinion and split on you. She's devoted once she trusts you but you gotta earn that trust, and she doesn't give it easily.

Outwardly very closed off and cold, and doesn't like to give that much information about herself away. You're gonna need a wrecking crew to break down all those walls.

She's somewhat vanilla in the bedroom-- it's not that she hates kink on principle, she just doesn't feel the need nor have the desire to experiment.

Will not stop talking about how much she wants to run away from her life and go back to living in the desert.

If you piss her off...well, let's just say she nicknamed her leg "The Nutcracker" for a reason.

Gonna tag @clusterfxckedbysirens @ghostoffuturespast @seraphfighter @luvwich @fly-amanitaa (sorry for any double tags in there) to give this a try if you want!

[toastedwrittenthoughts]

God, I can't stop watching this scene and I hope you all will bear with me cause MAN!

I GOTTA TALK ABOUT IT!

From what I’ve watched of this series that Richie doesn’t have a lot materialistic wise. … Sure, he’s got his family, his TBirds, his image and now, he's got serious interest in a girl.

I notice that like the other Tbirds he’s got his comb, a zippo lighter, a car...? I say that loosely since its more shared than anything and his Tbird jacket.

I feel like his comb and his lighter are something that he’s gotten as gifts, the car is ‘borrowed’ and Jane’s got his sister as her best friend/campaign manager. His family likes her since they gave her a warm welcome and his parents just gushed at him when he brought her over.

She’s certainly got his attention, both his and his family’s approval (Olivia’s acceptance pending), his thoughts and opinions, his affection and to me, the jacket was the last piece of himself he was willing and wanting to give her. After all, he doesn’t have money to throw around like the Soc’s do and even goes as far as stealing a wallet to pay for their date/hooky day.

So, when this he says;

"I was going to give you my jacket tonight."

And she in turn states; "I don’t want your jacket!"

This. This right here, the look on his face, kill me every time.

Because, Richie, despite being the leader of the TBirds, is very picky on who he 'dates'. This is solidified on the fact that Cynthia states that he doesn’t go on second dates with ANY girl, regardless of social status. And since giving a girl your jacket is a symbol of your commitment to them, Richie was nervous in doing so because he hasn’t ever done it before and damn it if it didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside when he was awkward as he tried to take it off. 

I might be making a bigger deal about this than necessary but when he tries to explain what his intentions were to Jane at the party, she rejects the jacket, not only the symbolism of it, but also the last piece of himself...

That to me was like saying “I'm offering you everything I am, everything I've got, and you just… don’t want it?” And the look on his face says that to me.. Like he just hit a wall and now tries to process what she just rejected.

Ooof.

The look on his face never fails to make my chest ache. He's already hurt, but now she's just racking it up with her padding that blow with "I have my own." And I understand that she does.

Personally I would have followed up with 'I want you.' You being him, in general. Not the jacket, since the last time she got a jacket from a guy he wanted to date her in secret becasue of gossip.

But the difference I see here is that Richie wants to be public with her, not hide their relationship away, regardless of the gossip.

But the blow up he has at her I can’t help but justify a bit. Everything he says he’s probably thought about for as long as he’s been interested in her and his fear and pain make him lash back in the same way he is probably feeling.

And he’s right.

They don’t talk about himself much when they are together, it’s mostly about her or the election. Her terms. Then again, when they do talk about himself, hes almost defensive about things. Like him and his grades/school and his family.

But what really kills me is the final jab he takes.

"I know the real reason why you won’t wear my jacket.... Because being with a guy like me, brings down your stock."

This might be his biggest fear verbalized and he just dropped it at her feet. And what does she say?

The three words that always make me want to backhand her in the mouth.

"That’s. Not. Fair."

That’s not fair?! Are you kidding me right now? You wanna be his girlfriend and everything so how about; "That’s not true?"

And what really lands the hurt for me is that she doesn’t deny his statement. Which no doubt makes him come to a realization that he is somewhat right. It's the classic 'a girl like her can't be with a guy like me.' You can tell just by the look on his face that the truth of that, no matter how small, still probably stings like a bitch.

And since she doesn't deny it, to him, its also not fair... She’s letting what others think about her and his ‘lack of status’ sway her and that effects her perception regarding them. Its not fair.

Hence the ‘You’re telling me’. So bitterly defeated..

Like... ShiT.

Dude lost the girl before he could even got the girl...

Anyway, I may be overthinking this, I don't even know if what I think makes any sense but I will die on this hill about this scene.. If they don't right their relationship, I will fight someone...

Anyway, thank you for reading my TED talk.. I'm gonna go hide now, but I would love to hear your thoughts about this...

[my-fancy-hat]

One of my goals for this year is to read (at my time) my readlist that I've been pushing to the side for years, I will ramble about every manga i finish and try to make a final post expressing my overall opinions. With that being said, I finished Homunculus.

Despite not being that popular as his peers of the genre, I have seen it throughout being compared side by side with other works as a "masterpiece", that is very depressing and very-many things. Since I can't completely deny my pretentious side, I decided to read it and well, it fell short. If I had to summarize all of Homunculus in a single panel it would be

Nakoshi eating his own semen. All born and end in here.

I assume the mini fame that this manga earned it comes from a male audience since this story touches deeply on the "modern male loneliness", and this story hits the nail on this topic really well. It frustrates me quite a bit because the concepts that were used and its premise in general are undoubtedly innovative and definitely interesting! they are an easy bait if you are looking for psychological and "deep" mangas. The creativity in which this author illustrates the human psichologycal struggles buried in the individual subconscious in such abstract and creative ways are magnificent. In fact there are whole pages that have helped me in my creative process, so kuddos for that.

As the story reached its last arc, I felt like the author took a few steps back. Some situations flew too convenient for the protagonist to justify... this (like, Ito knew Nakoshi wanted to trepranate himself. why he let him be after stealing his medical tools? anyways). But what bothers me most is that everything Nakoshi learned with each homonculi on his journey of self-discovery and with his relationship with Ito and Nanako ended in fucking nothing. That wouldn't be a bother if glimpses of his grown hadn't been shown chapter by chapter, but in the end what had the greatest weight was his obsession with himself, with his own misery locked in the barriers of his ego that keeps him from observating himself. In the end it's like Ito said, Nakoshi believed that he deserved an award for simply being empathetic and giving people their right to be seen and listened, a compensation for being an emotionally competent man in society. For this reason that I call homunculus an ode to male loneliness, ego, envy, demands and lies that capitalism impart on young men, the least attractive bird is the one who dies alone, where there's only room for resentment to grow, an allegory of the invisible man for the unlived easier life. That being said, the story is aware the only way to get out of your grave is to accept that the world owes you nothing, to stop licking your wounds and let them heal, which Nakoshi seemed to understand but never actually did. And just when I thought that "wow maybe acceptance and love is the solution" in how he looked so desperately for his first lover to reconcile with his past, everything goes back to zero.

Sadly, Nakoshi never loved Nanako, he only loved the attention she gave to him, yet he still abandoned her for other more beautiful yet hollow eyes. Nakoshi is just a clown looking for a circus, but for free and forever empty. I feel very sorry for Nanako, she didn't deserve anything that happened to her, to have trusted- puring her heart out to such a big piece of shit like Nakoshi. He ruined her life. I genuinely cried over her chapters and her past with him, and I totally agreed until the end with her inability to forgive him, until Nakoshi's face turned into a demon in the darkness and his obsession with himself, with his own semen, won him over.

Among the things that left me satisfied were Ito transitioning, the only character that I genuinely manage to appreciate and respect. I talked about them in another post but to summarize, I deeply hated at first how predatory they were with the sand girl, but in retrospect it it's brilliant how the author managed to illustrate through it their sexual confussion and gender identity crisis mixed with the yearn for their father's acceptance. They're the best character without a doubt.

I would recommend it? If you are looking for inspiration for your work because of it amazing art and concepts? 100%. If you are looking for a compelling pay-off story, no. If you want to eat your own semen waiting to get rewarded for doing the bare minimum, fix that idk.

Maybe some stories are told to end in pathetic tragedies.

[dennisboobs]

Sorry if this sounds like I’m asking for you to justify your opinions, I’m not I’m just genuinely curious on you analysis cause it’s always so good, but I was reading your tags on nailgunstigmatas post about macden, and I was wondering what you think dennis is doing with the “implications” things if not trying to be a rapist? I always thought he was self aware at what he’s doing, and just does it anyways. Do you think he actually thinks the implications give him consent, or something else?

I think if dennis was given a verbal "no", he would back off. he's counting on them not saying no. glenn actually speaks on it here (timestamped @ 1:52).

there is a very, very specific line that dennis toes that relies on it being dubious consent. but there are several moments on screen where we can SEE that dennis will take no for an answer, and the only times this is challenged is in something like fatty magoo vs the aluminum monster where it's not explicitly sexual in context ("i'm a winner, and winners, we don't listen to words like "no", or "don't" and "stop", those words are just not in our vocabulary"). dennis denies being a rapist every single time someone accuses him of being one. whether he actually qualifies as one or not (because coercion is obviously being used), dennis does not WANT to be a rapist by his own definition of the term. he very, very explicitly says this when discussing the implication.

just as he

clearly backed off and moved on from his mile high club target when she rejected him.

it's a very thin line, but the line is still there. he obviously has a very fucked up view of what does actually qualify as rape, but i believe if someone outright told him no, he wouldn't pursue it further.

and like. dennis is absolutely NOT self aware. at all. he is trying extremely hard to get mac to understand him here and is frustrated that it's coming off in a way he didn't intend it to. he does not want to be seen as a "monster" or a rapist. he is still counting on his conquest saying YES to him. because even if he is pushing her into saying yes, he makes it clear that it's still ultimately her decision.

i think that dennis believed he found a loophole and now he's questioning it because mac pointed out its flaws. and the whole point of the episode is to deconstruct this and to put dennis through what he was proposing.

dennis does not want to hurt these women, but he wants to utilize their fear to coerce them into saying yes, because they don't know what dennis is potentially capable of. and he's defensive over the fact that mac can't see that his intentions are not to force them into having sex with him if they don't want to, even if that is ultimately what he's proposing.

[fagsystem]

I have stopped syscoursing so much. But I keep thinking about arguments about neutrality.

'Okay but what if someone was neutral on you being trans?'

That does not work because those who are against people being trans fucking murder us. That is an instance of one side is loving and supportive and the other side Fucking Murders Us.

If you are GOING to compare it to something LGBTQ+, literally aspec discourse is right there. Because that, like syscourse, is discourse about exclusionism.

'Okay but what if someone was neutral on you being aromantic?'

Okay. They can do that. I do not really care that much about them having no opinion on me not experiencing romantic attraction. They do not have to.

'Okay but what if they're neutral on whether or not aspecs are LGBTQ+? If they were friends with people who think aspecs don't belong in the LGBTQ+ community?'

I do not care.

First of all, being neutral does not mean being neutral on people being assholes.

I don't know what it is about discourse that makes you think that those who are not directly in your group think maltreatment of you is fine. I do know, it is in group out group mentalities.

Fun fact, people have morals that exist outside of specific and niche internet discourses. Shocker, I know. People generally think it is bad if others, say, send death threats to or harassment campaigns against others. Yes, even if they are pretty neutral on the debate it comes from.

Like man, I got real issues going on. Someone being neutral on others including or excluding my aromanticism from the LGBTQ+ community is not a real issue. It IS a problem if they are neutral on maltreatment of aspecs, that's shitty, but it's not a discourse thing as much as it is, "Wow, you really think it's okay to treat people like that."

Because yeah I do face bullshit for being aromatic. No, nothing justifies that maltreatment. No, it is not fine that I get treated like that because other minorities face different kinds of bigotry.

But like even the transmed comparsion shit is just. Not a thing you can bring up. Because the minority in question, trans people, cannot access life saving healthcare if the transmeds win and those they do not deam 'trans enough' get excluded from being legally allowed to live as their genders.

Like man I showed up to a t shot appointment in a sports bra and skirt had the realisation that if I lived somewhere else, I would be denied my t shot and probably taken off of t entirely.

Like it's just so baffling to me how you think you can compare these real fucking world problems to internet discourse like this. Sorry but my siblings are dying because of this. And I'm not going to say aphobia isn't a problem because a lot of it is online, like it impacts me and my friends and it's fucking shit. I'm not saying it's not shit. I'm same category of shit that non-cdd plurals face.

You can talk about problems and even compare it to other problems for the sake of communicating your point. Just, yk, if your whole argument rests on comparing it to something that is just so unbelievably fucking different that costs people their lives. Don't. Don't actually do that. There's a really fucking good equivalent for if you NEED to compare it to smth LGBTQ+

[gunsli-01]

Why I'm not worried about a Mu Innocent verdict and other people shouldn't worry either-

Lol, if she's voted Innocent her chances of living to see trial three drastically decrease. So, like with a bomb I'm either right or it's suddenly not my problem anymore-

TL;DR- Yuno's probably gonna kill Mu if she's voted innocent again anyway. Because she's made it clear that the one thing she hates is being bothered and lectured to. Two things Mu keeps doing to her specifically. Validating Mu again will only exacerbate that issue. Personally, I think the worst thing anyone in Milgram can do is get on Yuno's bad side. Something Haruka and Mu have already done.

Q.11 Which of the other prisoners do you get along with least?

Yuno: I wonder... The ones that are painful just to watch are Haruka and Mu-chan.

At this point I find the prospect of people working towards getting Mu an innocent verdict just for her to get worse and be killed by another innocent prisoner funny as hell. Like in a what goes around comes around sort of way.

Yuno has all the tools at her disposal to do whatever she wants and no qualms with killing if she feels it was necessary. An Innocent/Guilty verdict does not and has never been alluded to securing anyone's personal safety. Hell, even voting Kotoko guilty this trial doesn't guarantee her attacks will stop just that it will be known we don't agree with her actions.

Our votes are only meant to reflect if we agree with the prisoner's actions or not. Affirming or denying their view; what they do with that information after the fact is totally up to the character. So, no one is voting Mu Innocent to keep her or Haruka safe and if they are well pfft. I mean cute you believe that's how this works but um it's probably not.

So, at the end of the day they're just supporting what she's done. That's all the verdict has ever reflected the collective fandom and its beliefs. What it is willing to let slide or finds irredeemable. People understood this when they were politicizing Yuno's second trial and framed voting her innocent or guilty as either being pro or anti-abortion.

It's not like this is some new revelations it was pretty much confirmed through the outcome of the first trial. Which had the opposite effect of everything the fan base wanted to happen. Kotoko instead of making a deal with Es and working under them began to act on her own. Using Es' or our name to justify and claim the right to a position of authority within Milgram and attacked three people. This caused a lot of relationships in Milgram to deteriorate.

Amane firmly stood by the fact that she did nothing wrong and no one could tell her she did.

Since she and Futa were voted Guilty together she expressed this belief to him.

22/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)x

Futa: Ahh…… I’m not wrong…… I wasn’t doing anything wrong…… Shut up, why are you going on an on about something so minor……It has nothing to do with you…… Aaahhh……

Futa: ……! O-oh, it’s just you. It’s nothing. But well, on that note. Hey. Don’t you have anything happening too? Since being in here, just suddenly getting anxious. Feeling as though loads of people are all there condemning you, telling you you were wrong.

Amane: Oh, were you talking to yourself, Futa-san?

Or maybe there’s something there you’re able to see?

Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either. Today is your birthday, correct? I’ll pray for God to keep you under his care.

Causing him to hold his own opinion in higher regard.

The other Mikoto took over because of the amount of mental stress being put on Mikoto and the fact that he is actively a defense mechanism. So, our judgement is solely responsible for his continued presence. Acting like it isn't at this point is just delusional because the guy even warned us about it.

The fact that some people still assume they have power here is fucking amazing like learn to read a room~ We just work here.

Then with Mu there's the whole matter of her deteriorating relationship with Yuno

20/06/04

Yuno: Huh, so you go to that high school. So, you are from a rich family then~! I mean, you already gave off that vibe though. What year are you in?

Mu: First year…… Kashiki… san…… you’re older than me, right?

Yuno: Yeah, I’m in third year but you can just call me Yuno. I don’t really like the stuffy formalities. It doesn’t really matter who’s older and who’s younger. If you squint, we’re basically the same age anyway.

Mu: ……fufu, what’s with that? But ok…… I’ll call you Yuno from now on.

She even calls her Mu-chan when she speaks about her in her second Interrogation despite saying here she doesn't care for such stuffy formalities and to my knowledge not using kun to refer to Haruka. She begins to start referring to her as chan directly after she was voted Innocent in the first trial and her true personality began to reemerge.

21/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Yuno. Don’t you have something to say to me?

Yuno: Huh? To you? Me? ……ahh, uh? Your birthday, right? Happy birthday~

Mu: How mean…Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself.

Yuno: Right, right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in future~ Later! Haha… things have become even more of a bother. So, was that Mu-chan’s real personality, then? It’s probably because the guard did something, right?

21/09/02  (Yuno’s Birthday)

Haruka: Y-Yuno-san.Good morning! T-today’s your birthday, right……? Ha-happy birthday……!!

Yuno: Oooh…… Thanks? You’ve definitely changed a bit huh, Haruka. You speak a little louder now, and actually look people in the eyes when you talk.

Haruka: Eh, ah, i-is that so…… I wasn’t, aware of it myself, but…… Heh, hehe. Is that so.

Yuno: Ding ding! My sensor is telling me…… this is probably a girl’s influence. Well, everyone here is slowly changing, I guess. Even me.

22/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Hey~~~ Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday.

Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time to deal with something like that.

Mu: Boo, how boring. You seem to be free, you can celebrate for me. Go on, celebrate.

Yuno: Wow, what a pain. I’m reading the atmosphere properly and keeping quiet. Well, you just go and have fun with Haruka. In the corner somewhere. So, you’re out of everyone’s way.

In Trial one and Two Yuno answered some questions that should be alarming and telling for Mu's chances of survival when it comes to dealing with her.

Q.11 Do you think things exist that can’t be bought with money?

Yuno: There’s loads, right? Stuff like a person’s character.

Q.16 Do you have anyone you hate?

Yuno: People who like to lecture you. ("How mean…Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself." "Right, right.") (Really not helped by the fact that Mu's entire trial two song is a lecture on what will happen to a person if they don't listen to her.)

Q.21  Do you have someone you like?

Yuno: Other than the people I specifically dislike, I like everyone.

Trial 2 Interrogation

Q.09 What do you think about Kotoko’s attacks?

Yuno: Is she an idiot? Nothing’s going to change in the world if you just act out violently where everyone can see.

The fact that her issue isn't the violence but doing it somewhere everyone can see to me implies if Mu suddenly mysteriously dies it was probably Yuno. it wouldn't be difficult to get Mu alone either since she keeps approaching Yuno by herself anyway. So, Haruka wouldn't be able to protect her and no one outside of Haruka would want to.

Yuno basically said if you wanted them dead you shouldn't have done it in a place where anyone could intervene. All that leads me to believe the chances of Yuno ending Mu's life during the next intermission if she's voted Innocent is super high. Which makes either outcome super enticing...So, as always vote however you want. How it turns out is far out of our control anyhow.

[sals-soup]

i'm thinking. so i'm gonna make this everyone else's problem

radqueers. fun topic, right? haven't mentioned them in a while. i also haven't been posting much here in general because. well. i dunno. i sorta lose my spirit when looking through the proship tag too often. i think, oddly enough, it was my fixation for a while. but obviously it isn't now, because i can hardly tolerate the community enough to glance through the tag.

anyway. a rare moment nowadays, i'm look through the tag. and i always make sure to look in the tags of posts i read because, well. radqueers advertise. most of them are not covert. that's kinda their whole thing. radically open and accepting. to quite literally anyone. even people who claim to be "trans nazi" ! fun.

anyway. saw someone celebrating the fact that they made themselves a binder. cool ! honestly a rare moment of joy amongst the discourse and news stories about war. but i expand the tags, there's lots, not inherently a problem, annoys some people, but whatever. and there's this tiny tag. just a little one. about "trans id". and it really made me stop and think about all that shit again.

my feelings were and still are complex. not that i tolerate radqueers by any stretch of the imagination. even if it is just some poor schmuck that got pulled into the cult because of their radical acceptance. but.

i'll start by saying this. i really do think the "trans-autistic, cis-depressed" shit is actually deranged. i literally cannot think of anything that justifies that. obviously i'm not going to like. make fun of it ? because i mean. if you're using labels like that, there's... probably something going on. and i've read stories from recovering radqueers about how the community fuelled their delusions. so i'm not gonna say anything other than i do not understand it at all and i really don't think there's anything justifying it.

the obsession with "chrono" (chronological) age is also concerning and also rarely justifiable. although i know that some plurals adopt the trans-age label because, well. they aren't just one age, mentally. and they do have a "real" (chronological) age. but again what i see in the radqueer community is shit like minors claiming to be older and adults claiming to be younger and many of them are paraphiles and they're interacting unrestricted and it's just. not. good. i used to go through radqueer confession blogs, and like... i think i have something in my drafts that proves my point about just how deranged and unsafe the community is.

what else is there to say to this than What The Fuck?

Right ?

even if the whole community isn't like this. the fact that this is at all tolerated ...?

i'm just going to leave that. food for thought. if you needed anymore convincing.

as for trans-abled stuff. people really try to push that it's exactly like being transgender. and i used to be quite sympathetic actually, because. well. trans myself. and i could see how the "but you're mutilating yourself ?!" argument goes both ways. but i stop being sympathetic because. well. i have disabled friends. some born some not. you can become disabled at any time. all it takes is an accident, or an eating disorder, or an illness. or the natural degradation of your body. personally i find my sight is slowly degrading and i'm in no position to do anything to correct it at the moment. which obviously is not the worst situation i could be in. but still. i can't help but think these trans-abled people are inherently privileged. and that they probably don't have many disabled friends. but i'm not going to deny their inherent existence. dysphoria is complex. and if someone thinks they shouldn't have a right arm or that they should have a limp or something ? probably not the weirdest thing. just. i don't know. i would rather these people didn't try to speak over others. especially IF they are in the position to "choose" to be disabled. i don't know. i would like to hear other opinions on this as well.

[sopaprimordialy]

Imho, you ignored a lot of things to pull that analysis together, things that are not ignorable.

She did not SA'd him, she seduced him, those are 2 different things. He held literally all the power in this situation: financially, he was older, presumably more stable mentally (I mean, she states she is being abused by her husband in the first place. I'm not going to use IRL facts I know for this analysis, as it is fair since you made it very clear it's about the musical).

Anyway, ignoring these things automatically makes your view biased. He regrets his actions, and Eliza forgives him, sure, but at the time that happened? He could have said no. He could have NOT cheated on his wife, and he knows that. Can we not twist the situation to make the man a poor soul seduced by evil woman who could have not possibly made another choice?

Guilt and regret can come from a lot of places. He, of course, knew what he was doing was wrong and could potentially ruin his career (well, considering that he is a man and men tend to not be held accountable for this kind of thing oftentimes, mayhaps no, but contextually in some places adultery was fucking illegal so... yeah), his marriage, and life in general. It became a pastime, didn't it? He only did something to stop when he was busted by the woman's husband.

In this specific part, ironically, you could have more arguments abt irl, bcs in his biography — the one Lin initially read to have this idea — is stated that she kept trying to emotionally manipulate him into continuing, most likely out of pure despair, Maria had a shitty life... she married too soon with a scumbag that used her to extort Hamilton.

Back to the musical, however, we don't get a glimpse of this. He only says he was a month into this "endeavor" when he received a letter, and THEN he was willing to end the affair and desperate about the consequences of *his own goddamn actions*. And even in THIS situation, he made the CONSCIENT choice of staying with her, this time actually saying the word "yes"

I view this lack of the word throughout the song not as a hint of lack of consent, but rather him trying to deny the fact that this whole thing was his fault. What he did to Eliza was entirely his fault, not Maria's, she was not the one that married her and swore fidelity. You argue that guilt is not commonly expressed by cheaters. I disagree, but even if we consider this, subterfuges to justify their actions *are*, that's what he's doing when he blames her mouth or body on his.

He thought with the lower head, as we say here, (made some research and found out in English you say "little head" instead, how amusing /pos) and tried to compensate it dening the fact that he, indeed, said yes to the whole thing.

I am sorry for you being a victim of something as horrible as SA. I don't know you or what happened to you, but I genuinely wish you are safe now, full of people that support you around you, and that whoever did this to you is having a really bad life, but I honestly don't think this is the case for Hamilton.

All that said, this is only my opinion. Please don't view this as a tentative to invalidate your opinion, or worse, your experience. It is not. I just think we can all benefit from debating, especially when it involves serious subjects that affect our day to day lifes. If I made any mistake, or if something isn't clear, please do correct me, I don't pretend to be perfect in a language that isn't mine, and even in our native languages sometimes things go misinterpreted, right? Have a nice day/night, and I wish you the best 🫶🏽

TW!!

I know it’s not how it happened in real life, but exclusive to the canon of Hamilton and pretending nothing else happened and that it’s not biased. Say No To This is an SA song.

NOW HEAR ME OUT

I do NOT care that Maria was younger than him, first of all perpetrators come in all ages.

Second of all I don’t care that Maria was put up to it by James!

In the musical, Alexander does not actually ever say yes to Maria until the LAST FEW LINES. I’m aware that it’s referenced that they continue to do this, so my point is more about the first time. Alex does not say yes ONCE. He does not want to cheat on Eliza at first and he simply just does not know how he’s supposed to say no in that situation. (Personally, that hit me hard as a victim.)

I do believe that the rest of the times were consensual but the point begins that their relationship starts and is therefore built off of Maria assaulting him. So therefore I don’t think Alexander (in the musical) should be held entirely at fault for this. He was outright forced the first time and I’m sure there was pressure to say yes the rest of the time. Granted he did keep going back and admits to becoming a past time.

My final point of evidence? Guilt. The way they generally portray his mood at the end of the sentence. Cheaters do not feel that kind of guilt. He is generally depicted as numb or seconds away from tears and that is NOT the reaction that would be provoked from cheating. Maybe you feel guilty, yes, but it’s more of an “oh my gosh I messed up” not an in tears just at the thought of those interactions. Also at the end, when he’s talking to Eliza is It’s Quiet Uptown, he says he would literally trade his life for Phillips because Eliza would be happier. He is very aware of how he’s hurt Eliza in a way that most cheaters I’ve heard of just can’t seem to comprehend, leading me to believe that his self awareness is due to some guilt he feels that because of this he doesn’t deserve to be alive for hurting Eliza, not realizing that he is a victim in this situation and desperately trying to get that point across to her.

Again, IRL? Alexander is at fault. He agreed to cheat on Eliza and continued to do so. But it’s different in the musical. Mostly due to the way Lin wrote Alex to be more of a self insert and possibly due to the musical being from Eliza’s perspective. Still my point stands that this is the way the scandal is portrayed and therefore I believe that Alexander Hamilton (FROM THE MUSICAL) is male SA representation.

(My god that got long, my bad guys 🤷‍♂️)

.

[fmhiphop]

A Livid Latto Speaks Out Against Blogger

Everyone has something to say, but it doesn't always mean they should voice it. However, on March 1, Latto took on a YouTuber whose unsolicited opinion riled her up. The Issue Latto seems to be the nucleus of some negative sentiments in the cyber sphere. And it was only a short time before everything went nuclear. A blogger's tweet went a little like this: "I thought y'all said this was the one! It didn't even break Top 50! Let alone Top 20, 10, 5, 3, or NUMBER 1… I was wondering why it was so quiet. 😂😂😂.” https://twitter.com/ArmonWiggins/status/1630774487456296963?s=20 While such a statement could have been ignored, Latto wasn't in the mood, so she hit back. Making the Charts Isn't Easy No one denies that being a chart-topping artist requires a lot of work. Predicting where you will place on the chart is far easier than achieving that goal. One must always consider the fact that people drive the numbers, and people can be fickle. Jay-Z nailed it perfectly in the lyrics of his hit song Holy Grail. As Justin Timberlake sings in the chorus, "I just can't crack your code. One day, you're screamin' you love me loud, and the next, you're so cold.". Frankly, the energy of fans changes quickly. So does the music they vibe with. Latto Responds Latto took the time to remind Armon Wiggins what it takes to make it on the charts. In so many words, she's been about her business while others are minding hers. Latto held nothing back as she vented her frustrations. In her words, "I'm really sick of y'all LOW LIFE GROWN ASS MEN speaking on me! P####! ain't doing HALF of what I'm doing but want me to be ashamed of my accomplishments? https://twitter.com/Latto/status/1630870265881313280?s=20 Reportedly, the exchange continued, and the longer it ran, the hotter it got until Latto relented. In Latto's words, "I quit! For I catch a case!" That still wasn't enough for Wiggins, who snuck in one more jab. Latto The Success There is so much drama to digest here. But one thing is sure; Artists never have to justify who they are. Their success speaks for itself. Latto has had four releases fall within the top 100. While her last three fell further in the rankings, according to Billboard, her "Big Energy" release made the top three and remained there for 51 weeks. She's living the life many only dream about. She's more than proved what she can do. And in reality, some individuals thrive on negativity. For some, it's nothing personal; this is their bread and butter. Fundamentally, this discourse went on longer than it should have. But kudos to Latto for speaking up for herself. Haters will inevitably hate there is nothing anyone can do to stop them. As long as Latto has fans who adore her, she's making money and consistently breaking the records she sets for herself; keeping that big d*** energy, that's all that matters. Written by: Renae Richardson Read the full article

[danger-xylophones]

The Mand’alor’s Gambit Ch. 4 New Playbook

Masterlist

Summary: The deal is struck, it’s time for Maul and the Governor to put their plan into action. However, unforeseen problems are already arising.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food/eating, ptsd (for reader, Maul, and Savage), gore mention, Governor’s got some problematic opinions, Maul’s a slut, she/her

Maul and the Governor finally sit down and talk.

<;- Part 3 

Remember to reblog :)

Look at this smug asshole and his stupid little grin. I love him.

Social Climb - IDKHBTFM

Defend your factions, cut the lines

Leagues of social climbers are abound

Oh, but be advised, no restitution comes tonight

‘Less we lay unconscious in the ground

..........................................

The day began with a knock before morning light had broken the night’s spell. 

Your eyes shot open at the sudden intrusive sound, harsh against the silence of your room but not demanding enough to be rude. Despite the urgency in your initial awakening, your eyes felt heavy, sticky with residual sleep that blurred your vision. 

“Eh...who is it?” You croaked out, simultaneously snuggling into your comforter. It was a hard fight to keep your eyes open and one that you were losing.

“It’s Savage.” The rumbling voice shook the sleep from your system as surprise overtook you. You were out of bed in a second. You snatched your robe up and tightened it around you to maintain propriety before opening the door. Savage’s figure loomed before you and took up all of the door. His face was shadowed by the dark of the palace so that the only features able to be made out were his eyes and the silhouette of his horns. Had you thought he wished you harm, you were certain you would have screamed. “Good morning, governor.” He greeted in a surprisingly pleasant tone given the hour. 

“It’s a morning, alright.” You hummed, at a loss for what to say. Your mind was lagging from the early and sudden start. “Did...did you need something?” Your voice was scratchy and frog-like which made you grimace at the harsh way it rasped. Luckily, Savage made no comment on it. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to watch the sunrise.” The request was so innocent, so innocuous that it seemed more fitting coming from a young child than a towering warrior like Savage. 

You must have stalled too long as Savage was quick to add on to his request. “And, I was wondering if you would show me how you made that stew again. Your cooking is much better than the staff’s.” He chuckled at the end as if disbelieving of the fact he was admitting he had a preference for cooking. From what he had told you of his life prior to his brother’s takeover, you were sadly certain Savage had never had that luxury before. It was a sobering thought. 

“Of course, I will.” You answered with a tired smile to hide where your mind had wandered, “just give me a minute to get dressed.” Despite the darkness, you could see Savage’s teeth make a brief appearance to indicate he was smiling at you. You smiled right back, “and maybe put on some caf?” 

At that, he chuckled, “I’ll get right on that.” and turned away to lumber towards the dining area, his form vanishing into the still dark palace.

Once more alone, you sighed. It looked like today would be a very early start. You weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect given what you had to accomplish today...and whose company you had to spend it in. You stopped swiping through tunics and dresses long enough to grimace at the reminder of all that yesterday had entailed - including the truce you now had with the mand’alor. You couldn’t deny it was a good deal. It got Maul off your back, brought attention to Dion and to Concordia, reaffirmed your own political power, and gave you direct access to funding for the restoration. The only drawbacks were the conditions and possible blackmail. If you were honest, the negative aspects couldn’t compare to the net positive. You still didn’t like that this deal entailed you acting like you were in love with Maul, but the means justified the ends in this case. At least he knew why you would be acting sweet on him so there was no chance of him getting the wrong idea and creating a messy situation for both of you. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t as upset by this truce as Chara was. You’d called her after dinner to explain what had happened with the documents and the plan going forward and she’d gone ballistic. She ranted on and on about how she thought this was a stupid plan and that it would be better if you just challenged Maul and took the dark saber for yourself. You’d tried to explain that this was part of your plan from the beginning. Sure the circumstances were different but you would end up with the same result so why was she making such a big deal of the fact you had to pretend you were with Maul while he knew you were pretending? Your cousin hadn’t wanted to listen to you at all. You never mentioned that you were planning to catch up with Dereth. For some reason, you had a suspicion that the conversation wouldn’t go much better. 

Chara confused you. But you were afraid the mysteries of your closest cousin would have to wait until you returned to Concordia. 

Resolving to put off dealing with the bizarre turn your life had taken later, you resumed dressing. 

By the time you were dressed and on your way to the private kitchen near the bedrooms, the palace had lightened enough for you to make out where the walls ended and where furniture jutted out to create potential hazards. It still didn’t stop you from catching your shin on the leg of a chair or bumping your shoulder against a corner though. 

The smell of freshly brewed caf wafted towards you, spurring you on despite the pain and annoyance. The allure of addictive caffeine was strong enough to momentarily distract you from your musings and remind you that at the very least you would start the day in pleasant company. 

Rounding the final corner, you entered the common area which was dimly lit by the light of one lamp, creating a cozy atmosphere that was amplified by the smell of the caf Savage had brewed and the quiet shuffling of said zabrak as he pawed through the cabinets gathering what ingredients he remembered.  

You noted two mugs had already been set out, but not yet filled. Gliding forward, you took it upon yourself to pour a generous amount of caf into each, leaving enough room to add to the drinks if you or Savage so desired. “Creamer, Savage?” You asked as you set the caf pot back down. The yellow zabrak visibly startled and scrambled to face you. In doing so, he knocked his elbow against the open cupboard door which sent it flying back to smack the other cabinets with a loud bang.  

Your hand shot to your mouth in a poor attempt to trap the snorted laugh that tried to escape you at Savage’s reaction. “Are you alright?” 

Savage stared at you for a beat, eyes wide and hands hovering as if prepared for a fight. It took a few blinks and deep breaths for his posture to relax. “You startled me.” 

“So I saw. I thought it was impossible to sneak up on you force wielding maniacs.” You snickered, oddly satisfied with yourself. Until you saw that Savage did not look amused. “Hey,” you lowered your voice, “I’m sorry for startling you, I didn’t mean to. I thought you heard me come in.” You raised your hand in a pacifying gesture, instinctively wanting to reach out and comfort him to further convey your sincerity. But hesitating, unsure if he wanted to be touched. 

With a low sigh more akin to the sound of a machine powering down than that of a living being, Savage’s posture relaxed. “It’s alright.” He grumbled in a voice not quite matching his normal energy. “Just don’t do it again.” 

Savage didn’t dwell on it, removing your opportunity to do so in turn, and instead moved out of your way to allow you free reign of the kitchen. He seated himself at the bar, sideways, so that he could switch his attention between the window and your conversation with relative ease. Wordlessly, you slid his cup over to him and grabbed the creamer for yourself and waited for any indication he wanted some too. 

There was a pause in all motion as the two of you took a few seconds to just enjoy the caffeine jumpstarting your internal systems in which you were struck with the realization that Maul had not been invited to your little gathering. “Does Maul drink caf?” You eventually hummed. Savage paused mid sip and gently set his mug down - the cup completely vanished from view when he wrapped both of his hands around it to warm them. 

You watched on in amusement as a grimace only an older brother was capable of twisted onto Savage’s yellow face. “Yes, unhealthy amounts of it.” 

"Another addict, ey?” Unceremoniously, you let out a short amused snort at the image of Maul sitting on the throne with one of those jedi novelty mugs you’d seen on the holonet in hand. “Almec’s in good company I guess.” Absently, you collected a stray drop running down the side of your mug on your finger and brought it your lips. “Blood’s probably made of the osik by now. Not that I’m much better I suppose.” You huffed around your thumb. “Seems any person with a modicum of control over Mand’alor’s gotta get a caffeine fix somehow - Satine had a whole stash of black tea hidden away somewhere. And Vizsla, maker, he had a whole vault of this really expensive foreign stuff hidden on Concordia - I’m still working my way through it. Real strong stuff, not a clue where he got it from.” 

Savage made a noise in the back of his throat that was somewhere between a growl and grunt. “How’d you know Vizsla? I overheard some of the servants say you used to be fairly close to him.” 

It was your turn to pause mid-sip. You could feel a furrow on your brow as your face pulled down into a stern expression. “If you’re accusing me of treason, that’s hardly a subtle way to do it, Lord Savage.” 

His eyes widened and face slackened. “That’s not what I was doing at all, Governor. Believe me, I’ve learned it’s not wise to accuse a Mando of treason out of the blue.” One of his hands raised in a pacifying gesture. 

You snorted derisively and took a large swig of your caf. Maul must have told him about what happened. With a swallow, you began, “I’ve lived on Concordia all my life, Clan Dion made it our homebase during the civil war. My grandpa was head of our clan before my mom and was friends with quite a few people in clan Vizsla. One of ‘em was my dad’s dad.” With a shrug you took another sip and let Savage infer the rest. 

“You were related to him?” He rumbled, sounding genuinely mystified. 

“Distantly, I think we were third cousins. After my mom remarried though, Vizsla didn’t want to lose the relation with Dion so he offered to take me under his wing. Mom accepted and I spent most of my life learning from him.” You shrugged again, not really liking thinking about it - not for any particular reason though. Just for what it represented. 

“I’m sorry.” Savage’s voice was soft, fragile. It didn’t fit with the image of this intimidating yet kind warrior you’d come think of him as. 

You blinked, mind blanking on a proper response - what was he sorry for? That Vizsla was dead? That Maul had killed him? “It didn’t really matter... we weren’t close or anything, despite what people think. I was his apprentice, he was my mentor, that was all.” 

“But...he was family?” 

Standing, you made your way forward to lean against the bar so that you were much closer to Savage. “We were related, but he was not my family. Just as I am related to Almec, but he is not my family.” Your voice was low, stern, similar to the tone of voice you’d used on young foundlings and children learning what it meant to be a mandalorian. “My second father, yes, my caretaker after my mother’s passing, yes, my mentor on the ways of Mandalorian politics, also yes. But that is all he is. My family is Clan Dion.” 

Your eyes locked with his and you caught the minute flickers as he matched your gaze second for second. “I see.” He finally hummed. You backed up with a nod and returned to your previous perch against the opposing counter. You retrieved your caf and took a hearty sip, satisfied that Savage had truly understood the distinction. “So...if Maul were to marry you, would we become family?” 

You coughed and barely managed to stop yourself from spraying caf down your front by raising your mug back up to your mouth in the nick of time. You caught the barest hint of a smile on Savage’s face before he hastily muscled it away in favor of mock concern. “Is-” you coughed again, trying to clear your throat of the remaining liquid, “-is that what you want?”

He shrugged one massive shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind calling you my sister-in-law.” And sipped noncommittally, eyes trained on you. “But I am more interested in maintaining our alliances.” 

Your posture relaxed. “Of course, as am I, Lord Savage.” A courteous bow of your head was tacked onto the end of your sentence. “I don’t doubt the strength of my warriors, only their resolve to face two sith lords, Death Watch, and the entire criminal underworld.” 

The yellow zabrak smiled ruefully. “I thought Mandalorians were always eager for a fight.”

 “We are,” you grinned back, “but the politician in me knows to pick my clan’s battles.” lifting your mug towards him, you toasted the zabrak.

With a small huff of a laugh, Savage let silence descend on the two of you and for the status quo to dissipate back into the morning mist. 

“We would be,” you finally returned to his earlier question, piquing his interest once more, “because I enjoy your company enough to acknowledge you as kin.” 

His head tilted. “Does your preference hold that much authority?” 

“Certainly.” You met his burning gaze head on. “I have advisors - elders and family members of high esteem -  that I am supposed I consult with but my opinion as the head is ultimate.” 

“Is that why you were able to expel Almec?” 

“Precisely. Although,” you chuckled bitterly at the reminder of the man whose complicated political ties had nearly lead to your own downfall, “I was the only one trying to keep him in the clan. So when I gave the word,” and had dragged Dion’s name through the osik he stirred up, “no one objected.” 

Except for Maul.  

You frowned at the reminder of your fight with the Mand’alor. His ability to assert his authority was admirable. Satine was never able to rally warriors to her cause. The people that followed her were weak and too easily frightened. They could be lured in by promises of cushy lifestyles. Only after the warriors, the fighters, those with greater power than her were out of sight could her peaceful Mandalore thrive.  

She was too weak - too soft. She was unable to crush her opponents. And that was why she had fallen. 

It gave clan Vizsla time to gather strength. It gave Dion time to gather strength. 

Pre Vizsla had just gotten lucky that the second sith they picked up was actually capable. 

He was too power-hungry. He’d been blinded by the allure of the dark saber, unable to notice the army under his nose. And that was why he had fallen. 

“-like to visit Concordia. Perhaps a visit can be arranged?” Savage’s low rumbling voice brought you back to the present moment. He was turned towards the window, his back facing you, but he spoke over his shoulder. 

“Of course,” you answered automatically, only registering what he had asked as you were answering, “Concordia is the nicest this time of year. I have a personal garden that is in full bloom.” Savage. Savage was a danger to you. He was loyal to Maul, and clearly would remain so by virtue of blood. No amount of persuasion could sway him to rally solely to you instead. “But the real beauty is in the forest’s surrounding the mansion. “ Almec was of no use to you now, his past was too checkered for you to salvage. “It’s been consistently taken care of so it’s very lush.” And he was already Maul’s puppet leader to keep the Republic - more specifically, the Jedi - from interfering in his schemes. “But we also have a few specifically designated recreational areas spread out over the moon meant for hunting, fishing, camping, etc., if those are more your speed.” 

A small guffaw slipped from the large man. “You sound like some sort of tour guide.” 

With a tight lipped smile you settled your gaze on the back of his head. “Tourism is one of our bigger industries.” You turned your attention from the man to the window. “Only natural I’d pick something up.” Change of plans. 

Savage chuckled some quiet agreement you didn’t quite catch but didn’t care enough about to ask him to repeat himself. Instead you focused on the window, on the rising sun that bathed Sundari in soft pink light followed shortly by burning gold that transformed the pink into burning red. It was beautiful.

“Should we wake Maul?” You hummed absently, breathing in the steam from the caf. “Or at least drag him out of his room?” You laughed.

“I can assure you that dragging me will not be necessary.” The low voice of Maul scared you so thoroughly you flinched, spilling some of the still hot liquid over the side of the mug onto your exposed skin. Hissing, you yanked your hand away and hastily wiped it on the pants of your lounge clothes. The caf wasn’t hot enough to burn but it certainly stung.

Maul watched you with contempt in his eyes, head raised just slightly, with his hands clasped behind his back. Your eye caught on his outfit. He wasn’t wearing his normal tunic but rather a short, black robe left mostly open despite being tied about his waist. The robe was open further than his shirt had ever been, revealing to you that his tattoos went lower than you’d expected, revealing lines following the curves of his abs, connected back to the upside down heart on his chest. Your quiet observation of his tattoos also brought your attention to the other thing different about his attire. Maul wasn’t wearing any pants.

On it’s own, that was an incredibly disturbing observation. But, given the fact you now knew his cybernetics to connect somewhere on his torso, the discomfort was replaced by curiosity. “Impressive tech.” You hummed, almost without a thought. “Before or after your takeover?” His glare deepened. Maul didn’t answer you, instead, he marched into the kitchen making a bee line for the caf. Huffing into your caf, you glanced at Savage who didn’t meet your eye. “Touchy subject.” As Maul busied himself with preparing his early morning drink you examined his legs. They really were impressive but not the best cybernetics you’d ever seen. They could use some maintenance as they were showing some pretty serious usage. Not all that surprising considering Maul probably lived a life full of fighting and that he’d started his takeover in a violent manner. A good scrub down, maybe some oil, and replacement of some of the knee components would probably do them good. 

Your ogling was cut off when Maul spun on his heel and stalked over to his favorite corner of the kitchen to lean against the counter. Both of his hands held to his mug but his eyes were trained not on the dark liquid but on you. You met his burning gaze, the fiery eyes of the sith, without flinching. And it seemed, just for a moment that the flame calmed to an ember.

Turning once more to the sunrise you thought on Maul’s attire again. He was missing something - the large belt about his waist affixed with blinking lights and circuitry. Previously, you’d thought the belt was just oddly placed with wires trailing down his hips and thighs to connect to his calfs. Now you thought that that belt marked the end of his cybernetics. A sickening pang stabbed through your chest. Severed at the waist. It was enough to make you queasy.

You’d been stabbed low before. In the abdomen where your armor didn’t cover. The pain, while not the worst you’d ever endured had certainly been potent and had brought with it it’s own treacherous fear - the image of the wound splitting open and guts spilling from it. Intestines, diaphragm, liver, an ocean of blood...it was enough to unsettle your very much intact stomach. But that was a vibroblade, what weapon could sever someone so completely?

Your eyes darted to Maul’s hip where his weapon normally resided.

“What is the plan for today?” Savage, thank Hod Ha’ran, ended the tense silence that had settled over the room.

“Lord Maul and I are heading to the prison so I can interrogate Satine.” You answered swiftly.

“Precisely,” Maul muttered, “Savage, I am leaving you in charge in my absence.”

Maul caught the sideeye you sent him. He had Almec, why did he need to leave Savage in charge? But you didn’t voice this.

“Speaking of,” you flicked you attention away from the mand’alor and to the chrono above the bottom oven, “I better get started on that stew if we want to get there before noon.”

At the mention of the reason Savage woke you so early, the large man rose to his feet (at the protest of the couch he’d been sitting on) and made his way towards you. Confident the yellow zabrak was following, you swept 'round the counter, brushed past Maul and set about getting the necessary utensils out. All the while, acutely aware of Maul's concentrated gaze.

It never left you, only joined his brother's, as you busied yourself with recreating the meal you'd cooked the other day - this time explaining the steps to Savage who listened intently as well as adding any cultural context as needed.

Silence descended on the three of you when the stew was finished and you busied yourselves with eating. But unlike the previous times where you and Maul were stuck in the same room, the silence that fell was more relaxed. Not friendly by any stretch of the word, nor comfortable either. But it felt less like dining with an enemy and more so with a coworker you'd just met.

You'd finished before the brothers - Maul, notably had readily eaten this time around and gone back for seconds - and excused yourself to your room with a simple "my lords".

Safe in the confines of your walls, you swiftly undressed and began rifling through your closet for the crate containing your armor. First you pulled on the flight suit. It was a dark black, deep enough to confuse the shape of your figure instead of accentuating it. Next, you set about fastening your thigh and shin guards. The thought crossed your mind to call Chara as you dressed and at least warn her that you were going to be speaking to Dereth but the sound of her angry ranting at the mention of the change in plans dissuaded you. What your advisor didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Especially since this was now more of a personal matter than a political play. She didn't need to know. Next came the cuirass, vambraces, and pauldrons.

You paused when you were done, examining your reflection in the full length mirror. You missed wearing your armor, the beskar that had been passed down through the generations. It not only protected you in the physical sense but provided a link back centuries to the first warriors. Although the beskar yours was made of was considerably young, just shy of 350 years old, the symbolism the metal was saturated in weighed heavy with history.

Brushing your fingers over the chipping green paint on your cuirass, you felt a pang in your heart. It was a sin to take off the armor, your second skin, but it was necessary to adapt. And after all, that was the way of the Dion's - adaptation in the face of adversity. Growth in defiance of stagnation. Strength in times of turmoil. This is the way.

A knock at the door brought your eyes from your reflection and back to the room. You didn't bother calling out, instead, you adjusted the helmet perched on your hip and strided to the door. It opened with a soft whoosh revealing Maul standing behind it. He had since dressed donning his open tunic, brown pants, and blinking belt. The opening door caught his attention, pulling his gaze away from something down the hall and to you. "Governor, I trust you are ready to leave? Our speeder is waiting outside." Maul's voice, for once, was soft, almost conversational.

You eyed him for a moment - eyes settling on the soft blinking lights of his belt. Again, your gut twisted uncomfortably in...pity? Sympathy? Phantom pain? You weren't sure how to describe it.

"Yes," your eyes snapped up to his to find them as burning as ever, "let's go." Brushing both him and the swirling feeling in your stomach off, you set a brisk pace in the direction of the parterre. The steel of your boots pounded on the floor, far louder than the flats you frequently wore around the palace. And matching to the steady, metallic thump of Maul's own steps. For every step you took, he would take one not even a second later which created an oddly nice rhythm not dissimilar to the ones many war songs were set to. A strange observation but one you found amusing.

Sadly, your short lived mirth died when the speeder came into view and the facts of your task loomed ahead like a great beast.

The driver was human and kept his head down at your approach, offering only a quiet, "Mand'alor, Governor," in way of greeting. Normally you woudn't have minded and might have even been relieved by your chaperone's aloofness. But not today as you settled into the closed cab of the speeder and found a small plane of transparisteel separating you and Maul from the driver.

Irked but not enough to raise a stink over it. You crossed your arms squarely over your chest, sat your helmet on the middle seat between you and Maul, let your legs naturally fall apart. Noting, that Maul's posture mirrored yours. Except he was stubbornly looking out the window and not at you, watching as your speeder rose into the sky and angled into the city. Until his head turned towards you.

You caught the yellow of his eye and immediately turned to the window yourself. Feeling his gaze still fixed on you sent a shiver down your spine. The urge to snap at him grew stronger the longer his gaze remained fixed on you until, just before you patience grew too thin, Maul looked away.

Sighing to yourself, you let your body slump down a little against the door to watch Sundari whiz by far below. Your mind swam with questions to ask both Dereth and Satine. How were you going to get any important info out of your fellow Mandalorian while Maul would be hovering near by? You weren't sure. Perhaps there was a way for you to deem it an internal communique between you and the murderer. But that would be hard considering Maul knew that you'd exiled him after the attack. The mention of the mand'alor made you look up to examine his reflection in the transparisteel. He was looking straight ahead, watching the world approach as the speeder flew through the air. His face was set in a stern frown, not an uncommon sight by any means. Why was he always so angry? Was it just the nature of the sith? Was it a genetic disposition? Was it just how he was?

As if sensing your thoughts, Maul's focus suddenly switched to you - his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. You were too slow, unable to glance away in an inconspicuous manner.

His brow furrowed a little more, making his scowl all the more prominent and you preemptively held back an eye roll as you awaited the biting, accusatory question undoubtedly sitting on his tongue. "What do they mean?"

But, the question he asked was soft. He spoke in a volume befitting normal conversation, velveteen voice smooth as ever and eyes curious - not disdainful.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled yourself away from the door. "What?" Turning to face him, you remembered the weight of your armor.

"The colors." He glanced down at your cuirass. Before his eyes met yours again. "I noticed that Death Watch wears blue, you and Almec wear green. Your advisor does as well but she has purple where you have gold. What do they mean?"

There was a beat where you just sat, examining the zabrak. You didn't know why he was asking. You doubted it was simple curiosity - not from someone like him. But, if he was intending to lead your people he'd need to understand some of the more subtle aspects of your culture. Leveling your eyes with his you began. "They mean many things. The silver gleam of fresh beskar warns all who see it that the wearer is mandalorian. As does tarnished armor scored with blaster burns and scratches from close calls. But, some choose to paint over such things." Pausing, you trailed one gloved hand over the painted armor covering the other's forearm. "Death Watch has always chosen blue to represent their dedication not only to the old ways but to our home. To our brothers." You looked away from your arm to assess his expression. Pensive, and clearly a little confused but for once he had no ill will in his eyes. You continued. "I, and most of Dion, wears green because my mother chose it to be our color. But she chose it to represent our duty to the clan and to the code."

"I see." Maul said at length, eyes raking over your armor in an appraising manner. "And...what of the gold?"

"Vengeance."

If he was taken aback by your reply he did an excellent job of hiding it. But all the same, his attention snapped back to your eyes - stare level and interrogative.

"Vengeance?"

Snorting almost derisively, you turned your body to truly face him putting the full brilliance of your armor on display. "My clan's history ain't pretty. As you probably guessed already. In our early years we made more enemies than allies. But, we're tough. We're still here and those that were stupid enough to try and annihilate us aren't."

Maul was quiet as he regarded you, the full weight of your statement settling in for him.

When the silence had stretched on for too long, you broke it. "What about yours?"

"What?" Maul's incredulous face was almost funny.

Propping your helmet on your knee, you leaned on your weight on the center seat. "What do your colors mean?" You repeated slowly, making sure the words were precise and clear for the man.

Scowling he leaned closer as well. "Yes, I heard you. What colors?" He hissed.

Amused, having won your own game of getting a rise out of him, you backtracked. "Fair enough. I suppose I really should ask what do your tattoos mean?" Maul was silent. You pressed a little more. "I mean, I realize that zabraks come in many colors - though I will admit that you and your brother are the most vibrant I've seen. But, your tattoos are completely different from any other's I've seen - including members in Dion-"

"There are zabraks in Dion?"

"Don't interrupt." You frowned at the man who scowled right back. "But yes, not all of my mandos are humans. Anyways, theirs are not as intricate or as...encompassing as yours."

Maul was quiet for a while, eyes shrouded in thought as he actually gave your inquiries some consideration. Slowly, he began to explain what he could. "I will admit that the specific meanings are lost to me now - these were bestowed on me when I was very young, before I could remember -" He cut in when you opened your mouth to question him, "Savage would be more equipped to answer that." He frowned and you could have sworn he looked wistful? "But, I can at least explain our vibrancy, as you describe it." A smirk, small and covert pricked the corner of his mouth. And you hated to admit how intrigued the tiny change made you. "Savage and I are from a planet called Dathomir. Presumably the zabraks you speak of are Iridonian. They are more muted, generally speaking."

You were aware your mouth had fallen open just slightly at the mention of that planet. "Dathomir? The planet of the witches?" You missed the almost pained look that crossed his face. "I thought...I don't know what I thought. I suppose, I assumed that Dathomirians were a totally separate species."

"We are a subspecies but zabrak all the same." Maul replied offhandedly, his voice strangely airy. And it was the first time since you've started speaking again that he looked away. His bright orange eyes could be seen reflecting in the transparisteel beside him, cloudy with far off thoughts.

And suddenly, your curiosity that had flared up so suddenly was snuffed out by a pesky little feeling you knew as empathy. Casting a glance at Maul's metal legs only made the softer part of your heart ache. You were quick to stamp it out. Do not get distracted. Maul may be your ally right now, but do not forget the end game. He is a monster, he is sith. You are a warrior, you are Mando. You can't get sidetracked by tragic beginnings. Through a speaker in the roof of the hovercar came the voice of your driver, pleasantly letting you know that you two had arrived before promptly shutting up again.

As the car settled onto the landing pad, you scooped up your helmet and set it on your head. And s the protective seal hissed shut you felt the Governor facade fade away. You were a Mandalorian once more. And there was a sith at your back.

Part 5 ->

I'm not dead lmao

Taglist: @apocalypticwafflekitten @arkainea @artooies-scream @botherbother-blog @emzalot @fallenrepublick @fan-g0rl @fireghost-x @former-ly-darth @ghost-lantern @gotham-city-uber-driver @itsagrimm @justalittletomato @kimageddon @phantomofthenormandy @pinkiemme @savagesbonergarage​​​​​​

[purrincesskittens]

Star Eyes, Zuko is mistaken as Water Tribe.

Gift for @muffinlance based off this post and this one

......................................................................

It was night when they found him. A quick examination showed blood on the back of his head. As they pounded on his back someone noted his eyes. “Gold eyes.” They called. “Are you fire nation?” The boy lifted his head and the light of the lantern caught his eyes reflecting back at them. “Of course I am.” The kid snarls. “Star Eyes.” Someone breathed. Shit this kid was one of theirs. “Could be the child of a war bride.” Was suggested by someone. “At least he’s not a fire bender.” There was a laugh that was quickly interrupted by the star eyed boy himself. “Yes I am.” “Well that was.... honest.” 

Star eyes were only something seen in the water tribes though. Even if this kid was a fire bender he had to be water tribe. More then likely the result of a woman stolen from her tribe during a raid and raised as Fire Nation since he looked enough of the part. But he was young, probably just recruited or practically forced into joining the military. There was a easy way to figure out how dangerous this kid was or rather how much more dangerous he was considering he was a fire bender. 

“Have you ever killed someone?” Hakoda asks crouching before the boy lifting his chin in one hand so the boy had to look him in the eye with those gold colored star eyes. “What? No ... I don’t think.... No.”  The kid seemed confused the blood on the back of his head suggested a head wound but this kid was young probably just assigned to a ship only to get knocked overboard by either by a storm or by another soldier. Those eyes probably didn’t make him popular or the fact that this kid’s eyes kept sliding away from Hakoda’s own suggested he may be a fey child. 

“What do we do with him?” Somebody asks as they watch the kid cough up water, curling and uncurling his fingers against the wood of the deck his eyes cast down. “We keep him for now. His mother is probably Water Tribe war bride if he is star eyed. Have Kustaa check him over and if he survives we figure out what to do from there." Hakoda announces to the crew. They took care of their own and until they figured out who his mother was and could turn him over to her family if she had any left the crew of the Akhult would take care of him for now. Half Water Tribe and the child of a war bride was still Water Tribe and like hell were they going to turn him over to the Fire Nation to continue using as a weapon.

Kustaa later informed him the boy had hypothermia as well as potentially severe head trauma it was hard to tell right now. The kid mistook him for his uncle. Which uncle they weren't sure. It's possible the boy's mother had a picture of her family she either managed to take with her or she drew herself or he could be thinking Kustaa was his father's brother. The escape attempts didn't help some of the crews opinions on keeping the kid but considering he was raised as Fire Nation and was in a strange place so its expected that he would try to escape although climbing the mast was something Hakoda really wished he didn't do along with scaling the side of the ship.

Kustaa had mentioned the boy called for his mother while delirious along with begging his father for forgiveness pledging his loyalty to him and pleading no to the man which didn't paint a pretty picture of the man or gain much favor of the fire nation in the crews opinions. "Tell me about your mother." Hakoda suggests sitting up on the mast beside the boy. Glowing gold eyes blinked at him. "I remember trailing robes. She favored long sleeved robes with delicate embroidery. She had long hair I remember her brushing mine when I was little. I would sit in her lap and she would brush my hair talking to me about theater or turtleducks or plants. Different things she liked. I think I would sometimes tell her about my day or what I had done recently I don't remember clearly its... faded almost. Fuzzy. I barely remember what she looked like."

Hakoda frowned the boy was water tribe he had to be with those star eyes of his but why wouldn't his mother tell him about her people, her home. Maybe she couldn't? Maybe the boys father was so controlling he made sure she never spoke of home to their son? Then the boy said something that made him rethink everything he knew about the kid. "Uncle said my hair is alot like hers. Or it was. I don't even remember why I shaved it." The kid frowned obviously struggling to remember rubbing his head with one hand. The head wound had left him confused he didn't rember his name or much of anything recent but he remembered he had been burned for cowardice supposedly or partially for that but what did the fire nation consider to be cowardly? Kustaa suspected the boy's own father burned him based off what they gleaned from fever dreams and night terrors.

“What did she look like?” Hakoda questions softly holding his breath hoping he was wrong with the hunch he had. “Elegant, beautiful, she had long straight black hair that was so soft and amber eyes with flecks of true gold in them she wore long sleeved red robes with elegant embroidery. The sleeves would bellow and she would hide me in them when I was little.” The boy continued to talk about his mother someone he remembered fondly although all the details suggested the hugs, the turtle duck kisses and every else stopped when the boy was small. Something happened to his mother and Hakoda was beginning to suspect it may have something to do with the boys true parentage. But how to suggest it to the kid without breaking the poor things mind? The whole crew already suspected he was spirit touched as the water tribe liked to call those who were different mentally the earth kingdom called them fey and not all of the earth kingdom where kind to them. 

“If I promise no one on this ship will hurt you and we won’t turn you over to the Earth Kingdom will you stop with the escape attempts?”Hakoda asks when the boy falls silent picking at the grain of the wood under his hands not meeting Hakoda’s eyes. The kid blinked up at him startled. “Okay.” Getting the kid down the mast was surprisingly easy after that and a few more rules were hashed out before the kid was sent to see Kustaa again and the crew was gathered. “The boy’s mother was fire nation. He remembers her more clearly then anything else.” This drew murmurs from the crew some wanted to toss him over board then since he wasn’t the child of a war bride. “But he’s star eyed he has to be Water Tribe.” Toklo says tilting his head in confusion. “Exactly. We know he seemed to have issues regarding his father and Kustaa suspects he may have been the one to burn the kid. I learned his mother also disappeared or may possibly have been killed when he was young.” This gained more murmurs from the crew. 

Panuk pulled in a sharp audible breath. He had figured out what Hakoda was getting at. “Does any one here know where they were about 16 to 17 years ago? If they were around the Earth Kingdom or the colonies anywhere?” Their chief had to ask if none of the men on this ship was the boys father he would have to send messages out to all the others in the fleet see if anyone remembered if maybe had met a pretty woman in the Earth Kingdom or in the colonies and spent a night with her. If the kids mother was Fire Nation and he was star eyed that meant his real father had to be Water Tribe. His mother had to have married or started a new relationship soon after and the boy looked fire nation enough to pass him off as her husband’s but the husband probably suspected what with the star eyes. There was silence followed by an uproar. “You can’t be serious?!” Aake shouted in outrage. “I’m not judging anyone but the boy is water tribe and with his mother gone we most definitely are not giving him back to the Fire Nation so we need to figure out whose he is. We take care of our own.” Hakoda soothed the crews ruffled feathers listening as the men scrambled to remember where they were and what they were doing all those years ago.

Slowly they managed to clear the majority of the crew those who couldn’t remember were left struggling valiantly to justify why they couldn’t possibly be the boys father while their youngest two crew members watched with glee obviously in the clear themselves due to their age. Once Kustaa cleared the boy Hakoda set him to work and had to add no breathing fire to the list of rules. Toklo and Panuk made friends with their newest crew member over laundry and the boy was very shouty about women’s work. And then the issue over the kid not having a name he remembered came up. Names like Siqinq, Kallik, Cupun, Tulok, Yuka and Tulugaq were tossed around. He is pretty sure they settled on Tulok simply because they already have a Tuluk and Toklo on board and that name is almost a combination of the two plus it had a star meaning behind it. The boy just wanted to fit in.

Reds were changed for Toklo’s blues and the boys hair shaved to regrow properly after Kustaa managed to break it to the kid that a real father wouldn’t abuse his son, biological or not. They picked up Bato who sympathized with them for wanting to keep the star eyed child, teach him his real culture, and find his real father but the kid was still a fire bender. A fire bender on a WOODEN SHIP!! The boy, Toluk looked like a kicked polar puppy being denied sleep in the hammock he was used to and his usual snacks when ever he wanted. They still had a lot of work cut out for them when the kid thought he would be killed over a bending accident because he didn’t fully remember he needed to mediate to control his fire. His memories were still patchy at best. So Hakoda ended up with his temporary foster star eyed child sitting in his cabin breathing with a lantern holding a dog.  

The kid liked sea prunes proving he was Water Tribe at heart. He was good at using his fire bending for non evil purposes even if he protested it. He proved he shouldn’t be left alone in port either by himself or with his friends. He gained a piercing, two rusted swords, a theater scroll and a cabbage? No one seems to know about the cabbage. He can cook as it’s proven despite how spicy his cooking is and nearly gets kidnapped by prostitutes. Sex workers were not on the list of people Hakoda thought he would have to fight for custody of Tulok with. He nearly gets himself kidnapped by a Earth Kingdom solider they are allied with who seemed sure their boy was then dead prince of the Fire Nation. Never mind that the prince was dead and their boy was star eyed. The solider was surprisingly unfazed by the heat of the kids cooking. He didn't end up kidnapped despite his best efforts.. The kid really needed to stop climbing the mast. “Prince Zuko?!” Hakoda’s kids seemed to also mistake Tulok for the dead prince. 

“That’s the Prince of the Fire Nation, dad he chased us all over and tried to capture the avatar numerous times. His sister did capture Aang.” His kids argued trying to convince him that their new foster brother was some evil prince. The kid in question for his part had more headaches then usual and just seemed more confused and angry. He remembered something. A little sister named LaLa. It takes a while but after watching their new brother and listening to the crew, “His name is Zuko, he is the prince of the Fire Nation, his father is Fire Lord Ozai does no one care about that?!” Sokka asks in outrage staring as the kid in question does laundry like its a perfectly normal thing for a prince to do. “His mother may be fire nation but his father sure isn’t.” Panuk comments dodging a wet shirt thrown by their resident fire bender.  This earned laughter and calls of “Good for her!!” And “She could do a lot better!” Followed by “At least a water tribesman would treat her right!!”. Sokka groaned in frustration and confusion. 

“Why is my nephew wearing blue, convinced Ozai isn’t his biological father and that he is water tribe?” General Iroh the Dragon of the West questions calmly. Tulok seemed to recognize Iroh and even called him Uncle and recognized some of the crew but he still didn’t have complete clear memories although his headaches grew worse until Kustaa told him it didn’t matter if he remembered or not he was water tribe and nothing was going to change that spirit touched or not. “He is star eyed you can’t possibly tell me the fire nation has star eyed kids that’s a water tribe thing only.” Iroh considered it briefly before dismissing it. His nephew looked similar to a young Ozai, so Ozai had to be his father even if he wasn’t much of one and his nephew deserved better then Ozai. But surely Ursa couldn’t have had an affair while married to Ozai it was impossible. Iroh tried to do the math off the top of his head of when Ursa and Ozai married vs when Zuko was born. “Look the obvious answer here is that the boys mom met with a Water Tribe beefcake and had a one night stand that lead to the boy. It’s the only thing that explains why his supposed father hated him so much and why he struggled with fire bending and is star eyed.” Bato explains grinning. “Beefcake?” Hakoda and Iroh question. 

Azula finds this all far to amusing. “That just means I’m the rightful heir after all. You can stay here with your little water tribe family and I can be the next Fire Lord after Uncle.” Somehow things get worked out that their star eyed fire bender’s fire nation sister will be staying with them along side her two scary friends and the kids supposed Uncle will become the next Fire Lord once they take down Ozai. The kid is still confused and there are still gaps in his memories but they aren’t giving him back now he is their’s and the fire nation can’t have him. They still call him Tulok since the fire nation does consider the sun to be a star after all. He seems to like it better then Zuko. He still does their laundry still wears beads in his braids in red, blue and one gold. In all that’s happened no one thought to alert the rest of the fleet about what they learned leaving them in for one heck of a surprise when they reach Chameleon Bay where the rest of the men from the fleet scramble to try to remember where they were sixteen-point-nine years ago. 

[zorlovinghue]

Well... Back then, or even still? there's this debate about being on Deruth's side or completely bashing him. Not sure if this still happening anywhere or it just that the people I was interacting with were particularly extreme but... It was hard? To find a portrayal of him as moderately, for lack of better term, likeable father figure? Outside of plots, of fanfics, I'm talking about general reputation and opinion. About how people would express their feelings in conversation.

I am talking personally, not just as a reader or fan. Maybe because I am back to my passive self and now interact less... with other people in the fandom, but even then this train of portrayal is morally upsetting? I'm talking about how people see him as a person, not character. Like time goes on guys, we grew in the meantime, had we not?

If you want to depict him like this in your stories, well just do so, it is fanfics after all. But also doing it in real-life conversation, interaction, and forcing such thing as establishment of characterization Deruth 'must' be? Come on. This is not an era where someone would be judged as a witchcraft and get k1lled for it.

Lmao. The fact that if I speak this way I'll instantly get bullied is showing enough, at least back then, hopefully? It almost at the level of boycott, it was to the point I was too scared to even speak and ended up faking myself to going along with it because I am genuinely scared of this type of people lol, frankly it was close to sociopathy and I am not going to sugarcoat. People who I once know and interacted with are either growing out of it or instead firmly established that Deruth is immensely evil. And now I simply exhausted.

I'm not justifying that Deruth's action is correct. Or that the feeling that potentially, not just what we decided to discern from original Cale Henituse, have were invalidated. It sucks, though please, at this point... Do you write him as the father of original Cale Henituse or someone else??? that you need to vent to the world????

So maybe this situation is not uncommon, I mean maybe there's people who just going along because they don't want to lose the friends they have in the fandom and because they prioritize their safety (yes, I am serious). But then there's people who genuinely see Deruth as terrible, not just bad, person. Was there not enough characters that deserve hate? Or oh, this guy is the closest to our beloved we must obliterate him???

The angst is good. In stories guys. Even in stories there's boundaries we ought to never cross. In real life? Heck no! Shit this is not even a joke, not at all. My mental capacity is stretched thin and honestly, original Cale Henituse is not the only one who was misunderstood. Deruth Henituse, too. Stop hushing and burying this, stop looking away and denying it.

Above all, it is a person's freedom to have different opinions. It is also a person's freedom to accept it or not. Think about it. Can we make the best parents to our own future children? Maybe we can say yes at this moment, but who knows how the future unfolds, for us to be filled with confidence?

I am 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 fed up.

WHY DO PEOPLE TREAT DERUTH LIKE HE'S THE EQUIVALENT OF KIM ROK SOO'S UNCLE????

LIKE HE'S TRYING, I'M SORRY HE DOESN'T HAVE THE HIGHEST EMOTIONAL EQ???

He's no track star of a father, but he's no deadbeat either?

I feel like y'all don't see parents as people. Because they are. They're flawed people who existed before you and carry their own burdens.

Yeah, there are some really shitty people out there who force their burdens on their children. There are parents out there who never let their children know they had a burden at all. Everyone is different. They carry their burdens differently, and some people crumple beneath them.

Deruth crumpled beneath the burden of his wife's death and failed to be an emotional support figure for his son.

I don't think this makes him evil, just weak.

Do I think this makes him a deadbeat shitty father who deserves the bizarre amount of condemnation he receives?

Er, no. I'll never promote Deruth as the father of the year, but the way people take what we don't know about the relationship between og!Cale and him to make Deruth the sole cause of Cale's problems...

you do a disservice to og!Cale's character. He had his own reasons for what he did, and he himself refers to them as his family when he spoke with krs!Cale. Why would he sign up for a war to avenge people who he felt neglected by? he wasn't just some victim, he played an active role in his life the same way krs played an active role in his og!life.

😗

[lokiskitten]

Tom Hiddleston | Mister Hiddleston

Teacher!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : your professor, mister Hiddleston, asks you to stay after class in order to talk to you about one of your recent works. However, it easily takes an unexpected turn.

Warnings : teacher x student relationship, kissing.

The bell finally rang, allowing the entire class to take off for the cafeteria as the sounds of hungry stomachs echoed silently throughout the place. It was noon, and you had just spent a painful hour sitting in English literature class- having to listen to your handsome teacher brag about Romeo and Juliette, which in your opinion was quite a boring play. However, Mr. Hiddleston seemed to be absolutely hypnotized by the love he carried for Shakespeare’s work, which held you back from speaking your thoughts.

Right as you were about to get up from your chair, the older man called after you from where he sat at his desk, requesting for you to stay a little bit longer without even giving you a valuable explanation as to why. Of course, you felt absolutely scattered about not being able to join your friends in order to fill up your empty belly which was seriously beginning to behave out of your control. However, as a student, you simply couldn’t go against any of the adults’ demands.

Though, Mr. Hiddleston was never the typical type of teacher. He was interesting, chatty when it came to sharing with his students, and above all good looking- which was rare for a professor. Yet, all of those fantasies regarding him had to stay secret due to the obvious age gap between the two of you, as well as the profession he practiced. As a teacher, he wasn’t allowed to have a personal link with any of his students, which you were both aware of. However, this unexpected extra class was soon going to take a tragic turn.

It didn’t take long for the classroom to fully empty itself, you and your teacher being the only remaining beings in the room which offered the two of you some privacy to speak about whatever subject your professor wished to refer to. Taking his glasses off his nose as you stepped closer to his desk, Tom then laid them down in front of his muscular forearms before rubbing his palms against one another. He seemed to be peculiarly frustrated, as if something was bothering his experienced soul. Yet you remained quiet, showing respect for this man as his lips parted calmly.

“I wanted to talk to you about your last essay. It’s brillant, really, but.. quite dark, I’m afraid.” The older man revealed, taking ahold of the piece of paper on which was written your perfectly creepy work. You often tended to get your inspiration out of the worst- which was something Tom simply couldn’t be aware of and which easily led him to worry. The teacher looked up at you as he handed you the paper, ocean blue eyes seeking for an explanation which didn’t want to show up. In the end, you felt forced to speak up in order to defend your case.

“It’s just a stupid piece of paper. It’s not like I’m telling you about my life or anything.” You responded on an upset tone, feeling defensive face to your professor’s intrusive questions. However, this wasn’t enough to reassure Tom’s worries. Standing up from his chair, he then allowed his bum to collide with the end of the desk as his arms crossed against his strong chest. He was now towering over you, still waiting for his mind to elaborate a proper diagnostic of its own regarding your mental state. “Y/n...” the older man started, earning a clueless stare coming from your shorter silhouette.

Now, this innocent gaze had cut your professor right through his sentence. He seemed absolutely destabilized face to this sight, lips parting without any words ever escaping his mouth. His eyes easily diverted to your lips, admiring the way they were composed and how they perfectly fitted your other facial features. Even if he would never willingly admit it, Tom had developed a crush on you throughout the classes you spent with him, listening to him, even if it all remained pretty much hidden away in his subconscious.

The grown man worried for your mental health, for your well being. He assumed that it was his role as a tutor to make sure that all of his students were doing well, which he had progressively began to doubt you were. Seeing how you weren’t moving, the professor decided to take the risk to move the back of his hand up to your cheek, ocean blue eyes still staring into yours as he caressed your skin. It was a risky move to make, which easily justified his light shakiness. Tom knew that he would only get one chance, and that if you ever turned out not to share the same feelings as he did, he could say goodbye to his job as a teacher.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but unexpectedly loose your capacity to move as you felt your teacher’s veiny hand brush against your cheekbone. However, you didn’t freeze out of fear, but out of pure enhancement and excitement. You were glad that he had proceeded to make the first move, as yourself wouldn’t ever had the required guts to attempt anything with a man who was twice your age, and most importantly your own teacher.

His hand now cupped your entire cheek, causing you to drop the irrelevant paper to the ground as Tom’s face began to dangerously near yours. He leant in, head slightly tilting to the side before his lips finally decided to collide against yours. It felt like an explosion of fireworks in your lower stomach, feeling as his second hand decided to take ahold of your face as he stood up from the desk. This kiss was soft yet genuine, as if Tom had decided to make sure the territory wasn’t hostile before he could fully explore it.

When he pulled away, his thumbs simply began to brush against your cheekbones as your eyes locked, the two of you sharing unspoken words through your respective orbs only. The two of you wanted one another, desperately, and you were now irrevocably in love with him. This kiss had been the tilt which made you fall on the other edge, the tilt which allowed you to be set free from all the held backs you had forced down onto yourself regarding your professor. On another hand, your lack of hostility had managed to ease Tom’s anxious heart.

Leaning in again, he this once pressed a more intense kiss to your lips, body moving closer to yours until the two gently collided against one another. It felt heavenly, his touch and scent easily intoxicating and taking over your organism. Meanwhile, lust was progressively taking over your professor’s mind and body, his breaths becoming rougher as he pressed sloppy kisses against your mouth. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide inside of your wet cave as the two of you continued to share a passionate kiss. His hands were soon to move down from your cheeks to your waist, feeling your curves with those large hands of his.

Unexpectedly, Tom ended up pulling away in order to focus onto the flesh of your neck, sending chills down your spine as his warm breath heated up your once chilly skin. He was getting more and more eager as seconds passed, anxiety still managing to hold your own desires back as your teacher seemed to be in charge of the situation for now. Progressively sneaking down, he began to lay kisses against your clothed chest and stomach, visibly looking forward to lift your shirt once he would’ve arrived all the way down to your crotch, aka his final destination.

You allowed shaky breaths to escape your lips, head tilting back before your face decided to divert down towards the sight of your literature teacher’s gorgeous curly hair. Hesitantly, your hand moved from his shoulder to his mane, caressing the smooth strands and curls which Tom interpreted as the green flag to lift your upper piece of clothing. However, upon feeling him now press kisses against your lower abdomen, you couldn’t help but grow fearful regarding your environment and surroundings.

“Wait-..” you suddenly stopped him in his track, his face looking up at you as his ocean blue eyes were filled with confusion yet understanding. He was ready to listen to whatever complain or worry you felt like laying on the table. Gasping softly, you bit onto the skin of your inner cheek before finally finding the strength to speak up. “Not here.” You begged, not being comfortable with having your first sexual intercourse in a classroom in which anyone could unexpectedly walk in. It wasn’t Tom’s fault, but simply the surroundings’.

Standing back up on his feet, your professor nodded in agreement before attempting to press another kiss to your lips. However, this once you decided to back away, denying his lustful proposal which left the teacher in shock. But above all, he seemed confused. “You’re driving me crazy.” He affirmed lowly, referring to how infatuated he was with your being; and the fact that you now stepped away from him felt just like a dagger digging into his heart. You found yourself biting down onto the skin of your inner cheek again, suddenly feeling nervous face to the man and his many propositions.

“Please. I need to see you again. Tonight.” After speaking those desperate words, the literature teacher reached down for your worksheet before taking ahold of a pencil, writing his address down on the back of the paper before handing it to you. His lips were parted, silent pants coming out of his mouth as anxiety and nervousness sent his emotions over the roof. In fact, he was simply scared that you would deny his proposition. Yet you took ahold of the worksheet and looked down at the words he had written onto the back of the copy, admiring how nice his handwriting was.

“Promise me you’ll come.” He begged, visibly looking forward to receive an oral confirmation in order to ease his worries. No words exited your body but a simple nod accompanied by a fainted smile, leading your teacher to return the same discreet gesture your face currently adorned. And just like that, you walked out of his classroom with your heart beating faster than it ever had before at the thought of seeing him again later tonight.

I hope you guys enjoyed this😏 might do a part two soon enough. I’m open to suggestions and crunchy details y’all would be looking forward to read about💥💳 Requested tags : @fa-me @delightfulheartdream

[moonlit-sunflower-books]

creating sympathetic villains

[@/moonlit_sunflower_books on ig]

hi everyone! today's post is about creating sympathetic villains, because let's be honest, the antagonist is the best part of any story /hj. a sympathetic villain is essentially one whose intentions are understandable, but whose actions are not. i hope this post helps!

disclaimer: i am not a professional writer and everything here is based on personal experience and opinion. i am always open to respectful discourse and constructive criticism!

give them reasons

and i don't necessarily mean a tragic past. give them genuinely sympathetic reasons. maybe they want to save the world by burning it down. maybe they want to wage war on the politicians that have denied them life. maybe they want to secure peace for the people in their country, if they're a ruler. or maybe they've been denied and ignored their entire life and just want to be recognised.

whatever your character's motivation, it should be something that the reader can sympathise with.

give them a past

yes, we all love characters with a tragic backstory, but don't stop at 'their parents were killed when they were young' or 'their girlfriend betrayed them and now they're a bad person' (yes this is me attacking the shadow and bone tv show no im not sorry). any character's backstory should have depth and reason to it.

take loki from the first avengers movie, for example. he's a sympathetic villain because we have seen him before in thor movies and we know his relationship with his adoptive father and brother. he was constantly pushed aside and watched his mother die in front of him, neither of which could have been fun. and his relationship with thor is a really strong dynamic that makes the viewer want him to get something out of the conflict.

his past gives him context and reason and the depth of it makes him seem like a character rather than a symbol, which made it easier for the viewer to sympathise.

give them humanity

make your antagonists funny. make them awkward. make them bad at flirting. make them walk into a grocery store and not understand how the self check-out works. i understand the appeal of having an all-powerful fantastical being be the villain, but if your aim is to create a sympathetic one, it's important that they are shown to be human because that's what allows the reader to relate to them.

i know i'm using all marvel examples, but if you take hela from thor: ragnarok - she is undoubtedly the evil antagonist, but she's funny, for goodness sake. also cate blanchett is gorgeous but that's unrelated, i just had to point it out.

they are not morally gray

there is a very important difference between a morally gray character and a sympathetic villain. a sympathetic villain is one who is, undoubtedly, a Bad Character - they just have understandable motives. they do the wrong things for the (arguably) right reasons - or their reasons have been corrupted by events and/or people, causing the reader to sympathise with them.

a morally gray character, on the other hand, often has the wrong reasons and justifies them anyway. they do a combination and Good and Bad things, unlike the villain who does solely Bad things.

helene aquila from an ember in the ashes is morally gray because she makes hard decisions in the face of crises and is often on the opposite side from laia and elias. she's arguably a good person with hard luck, and circumstance drives her to make questionable decisions that play on her mind.

the darkling, however, is a sympathetic villain, and i'm going to elaborate on this much more now.

case study: the darkling

okay before we get started: i am NOT a darkling apologist and i do not think any of his actions are excusable. but the fact that so many people on this hellsite think he's a good person just proves how well leigh bardugo created a sympathetic villain, and i'm going to explain how i think it worked. and yes, this has shadow and bone spoilers.

the darkling is grisha, and through his lifetime he was hunted and therefore hiding and living in perpetual fear (his past). he wanted to create a safe place for the grisha to live and thought the only way they could be safe was if they were feared (his reasons). he also supposedly fell in love with alina (although his is arguable) and that could be seen as his humanity.

rule of wolves spoilers: the end of the rule of wolves where he agrees to make a sacrifice for the good of ravka also gives him some amount of humanity.

all of the above make the reader sympathise with his intentions and are probably smitten with ben barnes' face which makes it easier. however, literally none of his actions are excusable. he manipulated teenage girls, kissed alina pretending to be mal, literally bound her to his power with an amplifier that completely eliminated her agency, created creatures that blinded his own mother and cut off one of his students' arms, and attempted to expand a physical darkness to take over the entire world. excusable? i think not.

his initial desire for safety is what the reader sympathises with. but the darkling uses that as a jumping-off point to go completely off the rails and essentially lose any sense of boundaries or limits on even his own power, which undoubtedly makes him the villain. not a single one of his actions are excusable.