#discussions of child murder

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

The Many Names of Peace (pt.1/?): Mercy

Inspired by Why We Did Nothing by BairnSidhe

Part I | Part II

CONTENT WARNINGS: THE RUUSAN REFORMATION AND HOW IT PUT THE JEDI IN A TERRIBLE PLACE, MANDALORIAN-JEDI HISTORY AFTER THE RUUSAN REFORMATION WHICH INCLUDES PADAWAN HUNTING. THIS INCLUDES:

Cultural genocide (discussed in detail). The Ruusan Reformation is made much worse here, and the Dral'han/Excision is also commented upon.

Child murder (discussed). Padawan hunting, and how Mandalorians killed children and took braids and beads as trophies.

Corpse desecration (discussed in detail). Lightsabers and Padawan braids and beads are taken from their owners. I realize this doesn't seem important for many of us, but it's very important for the Jedi.

Systematic identity erasure of a mixed race character (discussed). Tarre Vizla's Jedi status is barely known by Mandalorians because House Vizla treated it like a dirty secret.

Please mind your headspaces.

"If you hate genocide so much, where were your people at the Dral'han?" Terith asks with a scoff.

The Jetii stops muttering and goes still. Slowly, she turns, with a movement too fluid for a human. She's shorter than them, very slim and apparently frail, and her blond —almost white— hair is tied in a braided bun. Her eyes, which are a glowing emerald green, are burning.

"Where were we? You're asking me why we did nothing when your people were attacked?" The kage Jedi asks the Mandalorian with a soft tone of voice and a polite nod, looking almost like a respected jaieh accepting a padawan's question.

It is not.

Underneath their buy'ce, Terith's lips curl at her words, at her threat.

Zahara begins to move from one side of the room to another. It's too controlled to be called pacing, but the tension is visible in her movements.

"Not all Jedi are human. In fact, most aren't. There are species with very long lifespans and, considering Force-sensitives tend to live a few decades longer than others of their species, two hundred is far from an uncommon age among Jedi" The Jetii doesn't seem to be answering their furious question at first. "We were not there, Mandalorian, because every sitting member of the High Council during the genocide of your people remembered how Mandalore reacted when they came for us, first."

Drovan, her crechemate, her enishee, her brother of the soul, was a member of the EduCorps. He hadn't wanted to be a Knight, done the math, and decided to free up a space for somebody else. In particular, he was fascinated by the History of the Order. Zahara remembers quiet nights, when she was at the Temple resting after a taxing mission, when she Drovan used to sit down on comfortable cushions and her closest sibling rambled about what he was learning.

She's heard him ranting about the Ruusan Reformation, and the cruel limitations it places on her people even now. She's read it herself, once she began her Shadow training, learning every single restriction in search for loopholes that could be exploited to make the Order's job and life easier.

Her people's memories are long. Kages remember. The Jedi remember. Zahara remembers.

"They vividly remembered when the Republic we served brought down our Temples, when they took us from our homes, when they tried to destroy a whole branch of our Order" Zahara lists, voice cold and eyes blazing, "when they took our armor, our back-up and defenses, when they stole everything but our Lightsabers… and when your people laughed and called it easy hunting."

The Mandalorian pride in Terith's heart wants to protest, to deny the Jetii's words. But she speaks like a scholar in a subject she's clearly well versed in, like a grieving verd mourning the violence against her people they'd known nothing about.

History isn't always kind, Mandalorian history in particular rarely is, but it's always worth learning from. It's something Kyr'tsad and the extremists among the Nu'Mando'ade don't understand, and Terith refuses to make their same mistakes.

So, they swallow the growing lump in their throat, ignore the stone sinking in their stomach and try to listen.

Zahara's voice begins to break away from the calm, even tones of a teacher, and slowly fall into the ragged tones of soul-crushing grief. Her breath becomes shallow and rapid, and air gets stuck in her throat. Still, she continues.

"The Republic had been destroying us for two hundred years by the time of the orbital bombardment on Mandalore, and in that time, the number of Lightsabers and Padawan braids and beads seen on Mandalorian armor as trophies skyrocketed" The Jetii hisses, spitting the word trophies with the same venom he would use to say hut'tuunla or demagolka. "We were trapped, betrayed and dying… and your people murdered our young and desecrated our corpses, and had the nerve to carry the stolen lives of our kin as proof."

The air grows colder, a sharpness in it that's as familiar as her own reflection. The galaxy around her sings with promises of vengeance, of justice. Justice for her enishee, justice for Feemor and his charges, justice for Jaieh Ta'ra's murdered Padawan, for the all Jedi dead during the Mandalorian sack of the Anohrah, for the bastardization of Jaieh Tarre Vizla's story and the systematic erasure of his Jedi identity, for all the Jedi younglings dead at Mandalorian hands.

Not against the Mandalorian that did any of those things, but against a Mandalorian, anyhow.

"Your people sacked the Temple, stole the life and soul of a respected Jedi Master, got two of his Padawans murdered, erased every single hint of his Jedi upbringing, and perverted everything he stood for in life, all because he happened to be Mandalorian as well."

The song reaches a crescendo, the highest notes she's ever heard in a Force song, making her ears ring. The melody sounds off-key, and the final notes become loud and insufferable high-pitched screams. Zahara grits her teeth, and breathes in deeply. The xari in the air slowly dissapears.

She will not take revenge.

She's a Jedi, and revenge is not the Jedi way.

She will not Fall. She will not let her anger act upon her and betray everything she, Drovan, Feemor, Ta'ra and her Padawan, Tarre Vizla and his Padawans have ever stood for.

Zahara will not take revenge because it's not what Drovan would have wanted. It's not what any Jedi would want.

She will not take revenge because it's not as useful and satisfying as the thores of passion lead you to believe.

This Mandalorian is innocent. They haven't done anything wrong. They're angry about their people's genocide and rightfully so. They're ignorant, and ignorance can be fixed.

Words, the sharing of knowledge, bringing understanding when there was previously none. Those are her greatest weapons, and she can wield them freely and with as much efficiency as a Lightsaber.

Terith is frozen in place, mind racing with the desire to be anywhere else, away from this hurting, angry sorceress that sees them as an enemy. The manda in their chest screams, in offense or the pain of dishonor Terith isn't sure.

They wish their buy'ce was recording. That way they could investigate the Jetii's claims.

Everyone and their mother has heard the rumors about the Jetiise. Sorcerers from the Core that don't reproduce like other beings, but take children from their parents and train them to be as emotionless as droids, beings that beat all the love and concern for others out of themselves because they believe attachment is a weakness.

Terith believed them, once.

Now Terith doesn't know what to believe. The Jetii speaks with too much knowledge and pain to be lying, nobody can fake that well, and the air around them both is mournfully singing as the truth of her words sink into the depths of their runi.

Zahara breathes out slowly. Still hurt, but… determined not to Fall, not to take out her grief and anger on someone who's done nothing wrong.

"So" the kage Jedi flashes a polite but completely unfriendly smile, "why did we do nothing when they came for your world?"

Within their battered heart, stung with the pain of dishonor, with the stain on the manda itself, Terith knows the answer before the Jetii says a word.

"We did nothing because Jedi are merciful, Mandalorian."

(Notes under the cut)

Dai Bendu

Jaieh — Jedi Master (rank and role).

Padawan — apprentice, learner, student. Lit "the one who learns". Please picture a Jedi hearing a politician saying "Padawan learner", and containing the urge to eye twich.

Enishee — crechemate.

Anohrah — Jedi Temple, home. Before the Ruusan Reformation used to refer to the Temple the speaker was from.

Xari — darkness, the Dark Side of the Force.

Mando'a

Jetii(se) — Jedi (add 'se' at the end to make the plural).

Buy'ce — helmet.

Verd — warrior.

Kyr'tsad — Death Watch, lit "death society".

Nu'Mando'ade — New Mandalorians.

Hut'tuunla — coward. Very harsh insult.

Demagolka — someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche

Manda — collective soul of the Mandalorians.

Runi — spirit, soul of the individual.

Zahara is a kage Jedi Knight, officially a Sentinel and a Finder, which is used to explain why she can be in places she isn't supposed to and bust slave rings without prior Senate authorization. Unofficially, however, she's a Shadow. It's common practice for the Jedi to register Shadows as Finders in order to give them more freedom of action.

Terith is a Mandalorian bounty hunter, but they're very picky about their jobs and have interest in medicine, particularly "mind-healing". They were born in a New Mandalorian family but found greater calling to Jaster and the True Mandalorians and switched allegiance once they were of age. They are mildly Force-sensitive, not enough to become a Jedi and only gives them good instincts.

The Dral'han is the orbital bombardment of Mandalore done by the Galactic Republic in roughly 800BBY. The Republic used Jedi ships, but there were no Jedi involved. Mandalorians believed the Jedi were guilty at first, but the truth was uncovered only a decade later.

Dai Bendu is not my creation. It's a colang, although the story of the language is something I made up. Dai Bendu is the language spoken by the Order of Dai Bendu and, later on, the Jed'aii Order. It fell out of use after the Jedi joined the Republic in 25,000BBY, but came back in full swing during the Jedi-Sith Wars when it was very useful to speak a language the enemy couldn't understand.

I don't know if it's canon, but in this story Force-sensitives live longer than the average of their species. Those who aren't trained only live a little longer (a decade in humans), but for those who, like the Jedi, have training that lifespan increases (three to four decades in humans).

"Free up a space". Taken from the Jedi Apprentice series, where Jedi age out at thirteen and there are limited Masters, and where those who aren't chosen are sent to the Corps. Drovan knew he didn't want to be a Knight, so he requested to be sent to the Corps as soon as possible to give the chance of becoming a Knight to someone who actually wanted to be one. Unlike Jedi Apprentice, however, this is an imposition from the Ruusan Reformation, and the Jedi try to bend this rule as much as possible.

Kages' memories begin forming almost at birth. Zahara remembers with vivid detail most of her life. She's doing an alliteration: she remembers because she's a kage and because she is a Jedi.

This is the "Ruusan Reformation but make it worse" AU:

"Brought down our Temples". The Ruusan Reformation demanded the centralization of the Jedi Order. Therefore, all Jedi were forced to move to Couruscant, and their other Temples were either destroyed or repurposed.

"Took us from our homes." Although Terith doesn't know it, Zahara is being redundant. The word for Jedi Temple in Dai Bendu also means home. She's putting enphasis on how painful it was for the Jedi to lose their homes.

"Tried to destroy a whole branch of our Order." The Shadows were supposed to be dissolved after the Ruusan Reformation was signed. However, the Jedi managed to keep training Shadows in secret.

The Jedi used to have weapons, armor and many defenses besides their Lightsabers, but the Ruusan Reformation ordered their demilitarization and "demilitarization". Among the things they lost were the right to carry their birth cultures' sacred armor and weapons. A Mandalorian Jedi wouldn't be allowed to have armor, for example.

Mandalorians tend to take trophies from their enemies after a battle. This is done both for, well, bragging rights and to respect the memory of a worthy opponent (similar to their remembrances for their fallen comrades). However, the bragging rights part can overshadow the respect for a worthy opponent part, and many Mandalorians hunt down defenseless "enemies" to steal important objects from them. The Jedi in particular were a favored target for these… individuals, seeing as they had no armor, only carried one weapon and were usually alone or in pairs because that's how the Senate decided to send them in missions. The victims were usually Padawans, hence the name Padawan Hunts.

Tarre Vizla's story shows the greatest difference between how Jedi and Mandalorians (at least in that era) treat different cultures and double cultured children. The Jedi don't hide that Tarre Vizla was Mandalorian, everyone knows that he left the Order to rule Mandalore, and know what happened to his armor and what he wanted to happen to his body and Lightsaber. However, Mandalorians either don't know or refuse to recognize Tarre Vizla's Jedi status.

"Sacked the Temple". Tarre Vizla left his armor to his Clan and his Lightsaber to the Jedi. When he died, he wanted to be burned in the Temple (both cultures burn their death, so little to no issue here) and his ashes to be spread on Mandalore. House Vizla, however, did the equivalent of spitting on Tarre's funeral pyre and sacked the Temple to steal the Darksaber.

"Stole the life and soul of a respected Jedi Master". Tarre Vizla was a Jedi, and the Darksaber is his life. House Vizla, however, had no respect for their relative's other culture and did the worst thing they could do to him: killing and hurting his Jedi family, and stealing a sacred item they knew was sacred.

I headcanon that Tarre Vizla had three Padawans. He finished the incomplete training of the first because their Master died, did the whole training of the second and got promoted to Master as a result, and only started the training of the third before he went to his home planet to unite Mandalorians against the Sith Empire. Two of them were killed during House Vizla's sack of the Temple.

"Erased every hint of his Jedi upbringing." House Vizla replaced the Jedi Order symbol on Tarre's armor with the symbol of House Vizla, refused to acknowledge Tarre's desire to be remembered as a Jedi and forbade anyone from speaking about his Jedi status, and never say that the Darksaber is actually a regular Lightsaber they stole.

"Perverted everything he stood for." Lightsabers are a Jedi's life, hold their souls in the same way beskar'gam holds a Mandalorian's. Tarre. Ever since it was stolen, the Darksaber has been used as a symbol of authoritarian and tyrannical leadership, warmonging, imperialism and military violence. It's so fucked up that the crystal is beginning to break (the white cracks, originally the Darksaber was pure black) and, had those who held it been trained Force-sensitives, the crystal would have bled.

Terith doesn't know they're Force-sensitive, but they know their instincts are rarely wrong, and they can feel the honesty and grief coming from Zahara in waves. They don't doubt her precisely because they know she's not lying, she's seeing things as she sees them and, even if she's wrong, it's something Terith believes to be worth looking into.

[crowlixcx]

[thenixkat]

Challenge Level impossible: Dandadan fandom acknowledging that Turbo Granny sexually assaulted Ken and that saying that it was deserved, that Turbo Granny had a good reason to proposition and assault a minor, that in your transfem aus Ken getting sexually assaulted by Turbo Granny is a boon b/c bottom surgery is expensive, and similar comments are all extremely fucked up and gives vibes of pro-rape sentiments.

[lagosbratzdoll]

You guys are always yapping about how Criston Cole is Rhaenyra’s victim. Even though the show contradicts you on this point many times. Even though the producers contradict you on this point repeatedly. 

However, no one wants to reckon with the fact that those men took a tale about a misogynistic paedophile and the child he groomed and isolated and then turned his child victim into the initiator/aggressor. 

It’s par for the course with the adaptors. We watched it happen with Dany and Jorah, Doreah and Xaro Xhoan Daxos, Loras Tyrell and the homophobic way they adapted his story. The racist, heavily sexualised way they adapted the sand snakes and Ellaria Sand. I had hoped the fandom would know better by now but alas!

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 25

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: PTSD, Ellis is pregnant and also a grumpy asshole, themes of self-harm, Ellis being cringe, past captivity, past child abuse, fucky coping mechanisms around past child abuse, discussion of murder, angst, recovery

~

It kept occurring to Isaac that there really wasn’t much to the town of Laporte. Not the proper downtown area, anyway. There was the general store, the post office that doubled as the gathering space, the clothing and alterations shop, the feed and machinery shop, the tannery, and a few other buildings that Isaac couldn’t deduce the use for just from looking at them. He wondered if some of them had a seasonal use, or if some of them stood empty. The town had the look of a place that had been abandoned for a long time and was only now starting to fill up with people again. Still, it had never been large to begin with – that much was obvious. He could see the entire town at once, glancing down the street. There were so few places to run, to hide, to find cover.

As if Gavin could sense his unease, he nudged Isaac’s shoulder. “You okay?” Gavin murmured.

“Of course,” Isaac said flatly. “Just looking around.” General store, clothing shop, post office. Feed and machine shop, tannery. Right side of the street, left. He tried to tell himself that his eyes were sweeping both sides of the street equally, that he was giving equal attention to each building as he looked around casually for threats.

He tried to tell himself that his eyes weren’t flicking to the door of the post office every few seconds.

Gavin followed Isaac’s gaze with his own and squeezed Isaac’s hand. “I… I don’t need to be in town, Isaac, I just wanted to be outside—”

“No,” Isaac snapped. He bit his tongue, regret flooding him. “I’m sorry. No. It’s alright.”

Gavin held Isaac’s gaze for a long moment. Isaac’s stomach clenched as he realized Gavin’s lips were thin, his grip shaking. “Oh… Gavin, are you--?”

“Just cold,” Gavin huffed. His head fell forward, and Isaac pressed a kiss to his forehead. “But I don’t care. I want to be outside in the sun.”

Isaac blew out a slow breath through his nose and pulled Gavin close to his side, sliding an arm around his waist to support him. “Of course. Of course. Let’s… yeah. Outside.” He glanced up, tilting his face back for the warm rays that pushed away the fall chill.

The door to the post office swung open. Isaac’s head snapped forward. His stomach twisted. Ice choked his veins, and his hand closed around the gun in his waistband.

“Well, if it isn’t bitchboy out of bed at last,” came a voice he recognized. His muscles ached from how hard they were locked, holding him in place.

“Hey, Ellis,” came Gavin’s reply beside him. Isaac blinked, and he was staring at Finn and Ellis as they strolled out of the post office – Ellis looking uneasily at Gavin, and Finn with a concerned look at Isaac.

Isaac numbly released the gun. It remained tucked in his waistband. He hadn’t frozen that badly in years, not since—

Turn the corner. There was a guard there, shocked. Didn’t know Isaac was coming. Reached for his gun. Isaac raised his. Finger tightened on the trigger.

He can’t.

He can’t.

Isaac blinked away sudden tears as Finn and Ellis approached them. “Hey,” he croaked. “Hey, guys,” he tried again, and his voice cooperated this time.

“Hey yourself,” Ellis said with a groan. “Guess who’s got back pain today?” They looked around. “Oh? Just me? Thank god, whenever I ask that around Vera or Gray they never let me hear the end of it.”

“How are you two?” Finn asked, but they were looking only at Isaac. “Were you, um… expecting someone else? Edrissa doesn’t come into town, not without—”

“We weren’t… expecting Edrissa,” Isaac said weakly. The fresh cuts on his arms itched. The unbroken skin between them itched more.

Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Then… why…?”

“How’re you feeling, your highness?” Ellis said with another less-than-gentle nudge to Gavin. “You’re up, which is… more than I was expecting, actually.” They let out a laugh with a slightly manic edge that finally broke through the fog in Isaac’s mind.

He blinked. “Jesus, Ellis. You haven’t called him ‘your highness,’ in…”

“Yeah, maybe not in the greatest of taste…” Finn said gently.

Ellis let out a shrill laugh. “Yeah, no, totally, I’m just… trying to make him feel like old times, like… nothing’s changed, we’re still just… you know, you’re our bitchboy, we’re all one big happy family, like… um… b-before.” They lapsed into silence just as quickly as they had spoken and stared at the ground between their feet.

Isaac’s throat ached as he swallowed hard, looking between Gavin and Ellis. Finn was staring at their partner with their mouth slightly open. Gavin shivered against Isaac’s side, just as he had been doing almost every moment for the days since Isaac had pulled him from the basement.

Gavin stepped forward and put a thin hand on Ellis’s shoulder. “You have no idea how many times I wished I could have another chance to be the family’s bitchboy again,” he said, with a deeply solemn tone.

Ellis’s head snapped up with speed that rivaled a gunshot. Their eyes were wide, lips parted, and they stared at Gavin, unmoving.

“Oh,” they gasped. “Oh, you’re making a joke. Oh, thank fuck. I thought that fucker really did fuck with your head.”

Gavin managed a painful-sounding laugh. “Not like that,” he said, voice softening.

Isaac blinked, seeing the basement, the barrel of Schiester’s gun pointed at his heart.

“I w-want to be with him,” he croaked, his eyes fixed on Schiester. “I w-want…” He swallowed thickly. The words burned his tongue, but he pushed them out. “I want to… Please, l-let me be his… his plaything… again. Please… h-hurt me… for him.”

Isaac swallowed again. Today is a rough day. I’m aware of myself enough to know that today is a rough day. And that’s… something, at least. His hand shook in Gavin’s, and he loosened his grip. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out.

“So you’re doing, um… better, then,” Ellis said weakly, their frenetic jokes gone. They chewed their lip as they glanced at the retraced scars on Gavin’s face. “You look… better.”

“Yeah, Ellis,” Gavin said. He offered them a soft smile. “Thanks for asking. I’m… I’m doing okay.”

“Good.” Ellis nodded slowly. “That’s good.”

Finn spoke, their eyes searching Isaac’s face. “And you, Isaac? You doing alright?”

Isaac’s throat tightened. He pulled Gavin closer to him, happier to keep everyone focused on Gavin. “Um, yeah,” he said. He winced internally as his voice broke. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just… relieved to have Gavin back.” He stared at the ground, ignoring how he could now feel all of their gazes on his face like a physical touch.

Gavin’s gaze was heaviest. He knew about the… the scars. Vera didn’t even know about them yet, although Isaac knew they would probably all find out eventually. A finger of shame crept up his spine. Goosebumps crawled across his skin and pricked the cuts on his arms.

The door to the post office slammed open, and Isaac flinched like he’d been slapped. Laughter poured out of the open door. Two people who Isaac didn’t recognize came out, waving back to someone inside, smiles wide and boisterous. Finn turned to follow Isaac’s gaze.

“Relax, Isaac,” Ellis said, a hint of sarcasm returning to their voice. “Your boy’s back.”

Isaac swallowed hard as his gaze shifted to the ground again. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured. He wanted to leave, to hide. Not to seek cover, as he would from spraying bullets – but as he had once wanted to hide from Rosa, when her fury at him burned hottest, and he knew he could not buy a reprieve with a cleaner shot, a harder hit, a tidier room.

He never hid, though. After he ran from his mother, he never ran from his problems again. Until he ran from the guard who killed Jordan.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Who’s here, Isaac?” Finn whispered. Gravel scraped under their shoe, and Isaac forced himself to open his eyes and look at them. Their face was pale, their eyes wide, and their hand was wrapped around Ellis’s wrist. “Is it not safe here?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ellis spat through their teeth. “Are you—”

“No,” Isaac said, holding out a hand to them both. His head spun. Gavin is safe, but is anyone safe at all with Rosa here…? He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head to clear it. “No. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m just… having a rough day. Can we… can we maybe… keep talking and just… walk towards the house?”

“Do we need to call the others?” Finn murmured.

“Fuck, no,” Isaac ground out. His throat clogged with frustration. “No, just… it’s just hard for me to think right now. The others are fine. Just. Gavin, come on and—” He didn’t wait for an answer before he turned and half-dragged Gavin in the opposite direction they had just come. Ellis and Finn jogged to keep up.

“Okay, we’re fine and just going for a nice run with a pregnant person. Cool,” Ellis groused.

“Sorry,” Isaac huffed. He slowed his stride. “Sorry.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. As much as it made the hair on the back of his neck prickle to have his back to the post office, he found his chest didn’t feel nearly so tight now that he was walking away from it. With another deep inhale and exhale, his arm around Gavin’s waist relaxed a little as well. “Sorry,” he whispered, just for Gavin, and pressed a kiss into Gavin’s hair.

Gavin said nothing, just looked at Isaac with unfathomable worry in his eyes. Isaac’s heart twisted.

They were already out of downtown Laporte and down the lane surrounded by wooded forest once more. They left the road and wove between the trees. Isaac slowed his steps even further. The sun dappled the bed of dead pine needles on the ground, and a cool breeze ruffled the strands of Isaac’s hair that had pulled free of the elastic. He cleared his throat and slipped his arm from around Gavin’s waist so he could squeeze his hand.

“So, um, Rosa lives here,” he said softly.

Finn stopped dead in their tracks. Ellis kept walking straight into a branch at face-level and let out a squawk.

“…the Rosa?” Finn finally managed.

“Yup,” Isaac said.

For a long moment, the only sound was the wind blowing through the canopy of the trees above. Then, Ellis said to Gavin, “Did you know about this?”

“Yes,” Gavin murmured.

“And she’s still alive?” Ellis snapped.

Gavin’s jaw flexed. “He wouldn’t—”

“What fuckin’ good are you if she’s still—”

“Hey,” Isaac snarled, stepping between them both and drawing himself up to his full height until he towered over Ellis.

Ellis rolled their eyes and crossed their arms over their chest. “I was mostly joking, Isaac, calm down.” They jutted their chin out at Gavin. “I’m just surprised he didn’t take a run at her, that’s all. Any one of us would have—”

“He did,” Isaac said through his teeth. “He wasn’t exactly in the best condition to challenge her for my soul.”

“Not your soul,” Finn said with a shrug. “But, like… your childhood.”

“I wasn’t a child,” Isaac said helplessly.

“For fuck’s sake, Isaac,” Gavin said with a groan. He threw a look at Finn and Ellis. “This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

“Wait, you can’t just…” Isaac spread his hands.

“But that’s why you’re so jumpy today, huh?” Finn said softly. Isaac fell silent and nodded. He dug a toe into the layer of pine needles, all the way down to the topsoil. The top of his boot came away wet and stained.

Everyone was silent for a long time. After a while, Ellis began walking again, and Isaac was grateful to no longer have everyone’s eyes on him. Gavin’s fingers were cold where they entwined with his, but Gavin was smiling; nothing could have torn Isaac away from his side, walking with his family through a peaceful forest with nothing to fear but his own past.

“So… what are we gonna do about this?” Ellis said.

Isaac pushed out a slow breath. “There’s nothing to be done,” he mumbled. “It’s not like she’s a syndicate leader or something. She fights against the syndicates, or at least she did at some point. We can’t just kill her.”

Ellis chuckled. “I asked what we were going to do, not whether we were going to kill her. But I’m glad to see your brain moving in the right direction. No, I mean… so, are we moving again?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “No way. This is the safest place for Gavin, and Zachariah. It’s the first chance we’ve had at some real community. Besides.” He squeezed Gavin’s hand. “We just got here.”

“You used to live on the road, and I’m okay with people being less than enthused about me if you don’t have to live like this,” Gavin replied.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m not moving again while I’m pregnant,” Ellis called from ahead.

Finn rolled their eyes. “Real nice, Ellis.”

“Fine, but you’re moving all the boxes,” Ellis griped.

“What, all two of them?” Finn shot back.

“Here’s what I want to know,” Ellis said, finally turning around. “Does Vera know?”

Finn looked at Isaac. He froze under the attention. Gavin’s thumb moved back and forth against his hand, and he pulled Gavin close against his side again.

“No,” Isaac said roughly.

Ellis’s head fell back in a raucous laugh. “Hoo boy, I can’t wait to see her reaction. That bitch’ll be dead within an hour, just you wait.”

“I need to talk to her about a few things tonight, maybe we’ll get to it,” Isaac murmured. Gavin pressed a kiss to his shoulder. His stomach bucked at the simple touch.

If she’s still willing to talk to me after she finds out I decided to punish myself for losing Gavin after all, I’ll tell her about Rosa.

“Well, fill me in on how it goes,” Ellis said, their laughter not yet died down. “I need a play-by-play of how exactly she intends on handling this situation. And then obviously ask her if she needs help dumping the body.”

Isaac forced a smile. “Yeah. Obviously. Thanks for, um… for listening.”

“Of course,” Finn said. They pulled Isaac into a hug. He unwound his arm from around Gavin’s waist and crushed Finn in his embrace before pulling away, feeling only a little shaky.

“Any time,” Ellis said with a rare tone of solemnity. “You’re family, Isaac. Someone fucks with one of us… especially the baby version of one of us…” They shrugged tightly. “I don’t know, dude. It’s fucked up, what she did. I mean, I’m an asshole, but I still can’t imagine doing what she did to a fucking kid. Maybe it’s because I’m a parent. I don’t know. But… still.” Ellis lightly punched Isaac on the arm. He offered them a hesitant smile. “We’re here for you. Obviously.”

“Thanks, Ellis,” he whispered.

“Yeah, shut up,” they whimpered, their voice suddenly tight. They turned in an abrupt about-face and headed back to the lane towards their house. “Fucking pregnancy hormones,” they hissed, and dashed tears from their eyes.

Gavin smiled and returned to Isaac’s side once more. It felt… perfect, easy, safe. As Isaac’s slung his arm around Gavin’s waist once more, and Gavin turned his head to place a kiss on Isaac’s shoulder, it felt like the one thing that made sense in the uneasy noise of Isaac’s mind. He couldn’t suppress a smile as he followed Ellis and Finn down the sun-streaked lane as the wind blew the autumn leaves about their feet.

Continued here

@womping-grounds ​, @free-2bmee ​, @quirkykayleetam ​, @walkingchemicalfire ​, @inpainandsuffering ​, @redwingedwhump ​, @burtlederp ​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog ​ , @whatwhumpcomments ​, @whumpywhumper ​, @stxck-fxck ​, @whumps-the-word ​, @justplainwhump ​, @finder-of-rings ​, @inky-whump ​, @orchidscript ​, @inkyinsanity ​, @this-mightaswell-happen ​, @newandfiguringitout ​, @whumpkitty ​, @pretty-face-breaker ​, @pebbledriscoll ​, @im-just-here-for-the-whump ​, @endless-whump ​, @grizzlie70 ​, @oops-its-whump ​, @kixngiggles​, @1phoenixfeather ​ , @butwhatifyouwrite ​, @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

[woodsborostabathon]

okay, so… thinking abt this further because i saw the most egregious examples of this today on youtube and the sheer disgust has just not left me quite yet.

i hate, hate, hate all the stupid little tiktok censorship words/phrases with a passion. like, they genuinely invoke some kind of rage in me if the context is serious enough. it really wouldn’t matter much if they were contained to that app (bc i simply don’t have it anymore), but w the way ts has spread… downright demonic.

and i know why it’s, like, a thing. because yadda yadda your videos get shadowbanned yadda yadda they get taken down. ok yeah. whatever. sucks for yall.

but if you’re gonna come onto another platform that doesn’t do all that mess and start throwing ts around there… you have zero business talking abt whatever it is you’re dancing around at all. none whatsoever.

like i literally do not care if that ‘affects your reach’ anywhere else. that doesn’t matter. it literally doesn’t. suck it up! because at the end of the day, that is absolutely not an excuse to come into, like, the comments section of a news report of a real life crime and say shit like ‘the victim was lured to her unaliving’ or ‘the unaliver’s father is a convicted grapist pdf file so(ffender) arrested for possession of corn-’ like it’s normal and a-okay and doesn’t absolutely make light of a real, horrific situation.

you can argue for intent all you want, or go with the ‘ohhh but it’ll get censored’ excuse, but there’s just no way that discussing the details of actual abuse/crimes with a vocabulary straight out of r/boneappletea to try and dance around the matter won’t come across as minimizing.

[mad-hunts]

🎤 - An audio transcript from a recording

[ ARKHAM TAPES: patient 0158, barton mathis. FOR STAFF USE ONLY. ]

contains potentially triggering content such as child abuse, heavy violence, and overall disturbing content.

[ the only thing that can be heard in the beginning of the recording is the faint murmur of a man's voice — the volume is very low, and yet, you can just hear the southern twang in his voice as clear as day. the sound of the recording device scrapping against something loudly is what resounded through the audio next. then, it stopped, and the volume is much better as it seems whoever was using it fixed it. from there, a man who seemingly goes by the name DOCTOR BOWMAN begins speaking to someone across from him.

❝ alright. this is session number 3 with my patient, known as barton mathis, and the date is 3/12/2015; for records, this is doctor bowman. is it alright if i record our conversation? ❞ the southern twang the doctor had is more pronounced than ever now, and it made the slight hum that came from somewhere across from him in response to this seem a lot quieter than it actually was. the hum was resigned as if to say ' eh, whatever ' but there is a hint of aggression just barely present in it. a velvety, but still equally as deep voice answers him, ❝ mm, sure — why not? not that you really care about whether i want it be recorded, or not. ❞ doctor bowman paused at that. the only sound audible through the recording is a half-suppressed ' ahh ' that gives off a peculiar aura of sad understanding, ❝ i do care. we just have certain... rules set in place here, that everyone has to follow. it's just a policy has been in affect ever since doctor crane was fired from here. ❞

a quiet snort came from the other side of the room, and the sound of some sort of furniture crunching under the weight of barton adopting a new position atop it is audible. he sounded snide whenever he talked next, ❝ oh, he was a lot more than fired from here, wasn't he? it's okay. you can say that he became a patient here because he was experimenting on people. if only he wasn't after such a foolish goal. then, maybe he wouldn't have gotten caught, ❞ you can practically hear that the sneer that had no doubt formed on barton's face at that moment. doctor bowman said nothing at first, and then made an attempt at reining him in. ❝ okay, well, either way... we're not here to talk about doctor crane. we're here to talk about you. so, it seems from one of your previous psychiatrists, ❞ doctor bowman took another pause as the sound of him flipping through papers escaped the recording, ❝ that march is a particularly rough month for you. can you explain to me why that is? ❞

the room had suddenly become very quiet, to the point where all you could hear was the sound of both of their breathing. that is, until barton's voice made a return, but the velvetiness from it is completely gone. when he answered the doctor's question, barton's voice had hiked up a few octaves and he let out a muffled sigh as if something was obstructing his speech. maybe he was biting on one of his nails, or he was covering his face with his hand. i was hard to tell, ❝ mm, no. you cannot. next question, please. ❞ now it was doctor bowman's turn to adjust his position on what was probably a chair that he was sitting on. the sound of crinkling leather resounded through the speaker, and doctor bowman chose to try to pry an answer out of him. ❝ look, barton, if you ever hope to get better then you must realize that it's going to take some discom — ❞ doctor bowman paused mid-sentence as a gasp suddenly left his mouth and the sound of something crashing to the floor resounded through the room they were in. it resembled breaking glass, maybe from a lamp, or something similar.

doctor bowman's voice trembled at the beginning when he began talking once more, but it became steady after a few more seconds as he was trained to keep it neutral, ❝ barton, why... why do you have that? no, how did you get that? ahh. you know what, i'm going to call the orderlies, ❞ what ' it ' is is unclear. the sound of shuffling, then what was probably the weight of the doctor himself being forced back down onto the chair, came through the speaker. doctor bowman attempted to say something but was cut off, now letting out another gasp. barton's voice sounded a lot quieter now, but there is a certain coldness to it. a fury, if you will, ❝ you call them, and i will kill them, then you. you think you know why march is a terrible time for me because i can guarantee you that it was scrawled down in that folder. but you actually have no fucking idea. ❞

instead of asking him to elaborate more, doctor bowman tried to appeal to the more human side of him. he sucked in a breath before coughing. ❝ do — do not do this. you know what is going to happen if you do, don't you? if you just put the knife down right now, i promise you, i'll make it so that you aren't going to face as severe of repercussions from this. ❞ another cough, and just like that, barton's voice wrang throughout the room. it was deceptively sweet now, like he was relishing in the other's terror. a series of low-pitched laughs came from him. ❝ ooh my god, doctor, you should've been a comedian. no... i'll tell you what you want to know, since you are one persistent person. and so you'll have something to think about while you're gurgling on your own blood. this is the month in which my biological father was killed by the worst pig of them all: jim gordon. but it wasn't just that he was killed that makes it so rough for me. ❞

barton inhaled deeply, clearing his throat, ❝ it's that i wanted to kill him, too. i thought about grabbing a knife from the kitchen, sneaking into his bedroom, and killing him multiple times. but that's not even the worst part. ❞ another laugh came from barton but it wasn't sadistic, or even snide. it was choked-sounding. ❝ despite all of the foul things he did to me, i think a part of me still loves him. i mean there can't be any other reason why i would want to keep a part of him, ❞ there was a long pause then before he sniffled and the sound of crinkling leather once more crept through the recording.

❝ ahh, but you know, you were one of the better ones. it's a shame i have to kill you. ❞ a high-pitched scream soon blared throughout the room in which this was recorded, before the room fell entirely silent. the only sounds after this were footsteps, which were undoubtably barton's, and the recorder being turned off. ]

[miaisagirllover]

one kinda theory i don’t understand

the whole “henry creel isnt vecna” theory is so weird and convoluted. and before all the ppl who believe in this theory wanna hate-reblog this with 10 page essays, just know that im entitled to my opinion, ok?

so while reading about this theory trying to understand it, one piece of “evidence” to support this was “we only get revealed that vecna is 001, not that he’s henry”. are yall listening to urself???? we also get revealed that henry is 001. do you start to see how dumb this theory is? it just seems like peole saw a character they wanted to love, but they’re a bad person, so their solution is to just try change the character.

[judasisgayriot]

One of the weirdest coolest creepiest most creative things I’ve read in a long time???

a weird surreal creepy journey. A horror novella told through fake Law&Order SVU episode summaries. Tw rape murder violence suicide child abuse eating disorders gore… you don’t have to know the source material. I’ve never watched the show myself.

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

The Many Names of Peace (pt.2/?): Compassion

Inspired by Why We Did Nothing by BairnSidhe

Part I | Part II

CONTENT WARNINGS:

Genocide (discussed). The Dral'han/Excision is mentioned and spoken about for a few paragraphs.

Child murder (discussed). Padawan hunting is haunts the narrative, and one of the victims was the main character's brother.

Corpse desecration (mentioned). Padawan braids and beads are found in Mandalorian art and stolen Lightsabers are carried on belts.

Missing children (discussed). A Master and a very young Padawan have disappeared in a high risk field post.

"But… still" Terith swallows hard, shaking their head. They don't like it, but they understand where the Jetiise of that time were coming from. But the present… "The Dral'han was a time long ago, and you offer much to nearly everyone else. Yet you never reach that benevolent hand toward Mandalore. You've never even tried to repair what they destroyed." 

Terith has seen Manda'yaim. They know how much damage the Dral'han did to the planet. They know many people died, they know entire Clans were wiped out from existance. Sometimes, they wonder how many of the dead had nobody left to say the Remembrances for them.

The Jetiise did nothing. Even if Terith can understand why, it doesn't absolve them. A genocide, the blood of a people, is on their hands.

"We will." Zahara responds, with the easy confidence that comes from faith in her people, from the knowledge of what they have done to help everybody, even those who hurt them.

"That claim has been unfounded so far, Jetii" Terith shoots back, not as angry as before but still furious over the lack of action from those who are supposed to be the guardians of peace and justice. "Despite every petition for aid and reconciliation, despite Mand'alor after Mand'alor swallowing their pride for the sake of their people. Of course people call you heartless, why shouldn't they, when you show no sign of that compassion you claim to uphold? I bet you don't even consider Mandalore beyond History lessons on the barbarians from the Outer Rim."

Zahara can't help it. She chuckles. The Mandalorian doesn't know, cannot imagine how wrong they are. But this time it's only ignorance, and ignorance can be fixed.

Delahm, kyii leo’yth.

"It's actually a favorite assignment for young Jedi Service Corps members" the kage Jedi says wryly. "How to save you, when you exist so close to destruction every day. It's used to teach problem solving, since there are a million ways to do it. I'm not a Service Corps member so I'll admit my knowledge is limited, but according to my… friends, the Corps have been collecting the best ideas for… over seven hundred and sixty years, actually."

Under their buy'ce, Terith's jaw drops. They try to speak, but it only comes out as a wordless sound of disbelief.

"We don't just consider your suffering, we have plans to end it, and we will." Zahara adds, seeing as the Mandalorian is too surprised and confused to interrupt her. Then she shrugs, there are more decisions involved than she has power over —the Senate will have the final say. "One day. Maybe."

"What do you mean maybe?!" Terith demands. "You Jetiise get some sort of sick pleasure of having the keys to saving my people and do nothing to help us out, all for some grudge against long dead Mando'ade?!"

"Who said 'long dead'?!" Zahara snarls, feeling the familiar sharp cold of fury curling in her stomach, her mind conjuring the memory of a light snuffed out, and a familiar braid hanging from a different set of armor.

The Mandalorian's fury swirls in the Force, and it takes all of Zahara's willpower to ignore it. Her mental shields will be metaphorical splinters at this rate. She grits her teeth and slowly breathes in and out.

Kai’an. Soo’yth, kyii kai’an. Bexlyth, kyii maijah.

"If we stood by once because our lives and memories are long, yes, it was petty, cruel and beneath us" Zahara agrees easily. It was wrong and, even if she understands their reaction emotionally, the Shadow will make no attempt to justify it. Unfortunately, there is the milodon in the room yet to adress, and it seems like Terith will not get it until she spells it out for them. "But is pettiness, is it cruelty, to protect our people now? From very real and current threats?

"We will give you the plans, we will give you our aid, we will grant you our forgiveness and friendship" Zahara places her right hand over her heart, in the kage gesture of oath taking. "We will give you everything… when the hunts, murders and desecrations stop."

"Wait. Wait. What do you mean when they stop?!" Terith questions, fighting against rising horror. "The Jetii hunts happened centuries ago…!"

"Two of my Siblings are dead at Mandalorian hands" Zahara cuts them off. Fire burns in her eyes as she remembers the desecrations she's seen, the braids and beads decorating tapestries, the Lightsabers hanging from unworthy belts. She understands ignorance, but she will not let this armored aristocrat dictate a rewrite her of people's tragedy. The kage Jedi will not allow Terith to look away from what their people have done. "The most recent Mandalorian murders of Jedi were mere months ago."

The Jetii steps foward, and Terith takes a step back. The most recent. Two vod dead at the hands of Mando'ade. She makes no more attempts to approach them, but Terith isn't fooled. They know the rumors of Jetiise being able to kill people with their minds. Even without armor, even without weapons —although they doubt she doesn't carry a kad'au, since all Jetiise seem to—, even tied up and blindfolded, the near-human Jetii is one of, if not the, most dangerous being in the area.

"You only draw breath because I don't see braids or beads decorating your armor" Zahara says slowly, wanting to make sure the message sinks in. "Thus I'm going to assume you've killed no younglings of my people, at least recently. As a show of kindness and goodwill. Like I've said before, Jedi are merciful."

There's an explosion close by. The building shakes, and Zahara pulls herself out of her memories. She's not here to get justice that borders on revenge —if it isn't outright—, she's here to find the missing Jaieh-Padawan pair that got caught in the crossfire of her homeplanet's war.

"If you, or any with you, have harmed the Knight or, Force forbid, the missing youngling I'm trying to find" she whispers, so low Terith's buy'ce almost doesn't pick it up, "I'm going to, without a care for the Code against murder and revenge and the Republic restrictions on my people, tear you apart limb from limb."

"Wait. Wait. There's an adiika in this mess?!" Terith exclaims in alarm. "What happened?!"

Zahara sighs, feeling all the anger leave her as quickly as it came. The unexpected reaction from the Mandalorian has knocked all the fight out of her. So, she falls back on the same base all Jedi rely on: the sharing of knowledge.

"A long story involving a Master taking in a youngling older than usual despite the Republic's restrictions, which started a chain reaction of massive proportions" Zahara doesn't say what the massive proportions are. One would need to be a Jedi and have all the details, otherwise they'd find it ridiculous. She's a Jedi and knows the details and still finds it ridiculous. "Said chain reaction led to the Master getting killed in the middle of a war and his grieving Padawan being Knighted in a rush in order to raise and train the youngling."

Terith's heart goes out for the adiika and their cabur. Poor Jet'verd, promoted too soon after the death of their mentor and having to take care of a grieving and lost ad.

"Somehow, this led to the Jaieh-Padawan pair being sent to mediate a corporate dispute on this kriffing planet in the middle of a war, which is not a training post, it's a high risk field post" the Jetii goes on, and her worry for the missing adiika is genuine. "Particularly because of its proximity to space marked as Knight and Master only, because our Padawans, our younglings, don't come back."

"You mean Mandalorian space" Terith says, and there's something in their voice. Not acceptance or understanding, but… resignation. A willingness not to question the Jedi's experiences.

"Yeah" Zahara agrees, "I do."

(Notes under the cut)

Dai Bendu

Delahm, kyii leo’yth — ignorance, yet knowledge

Kai'an — inner balance, inner peace

Soo’yth, kyii kai’an — emotion, yet peace

Bexlyth, kyii maijah — passion, yet serenity

Mando'a

Jetiise — Jedi (plural)

Jetii — Jedi (singular)

Manda'yaim — lit. "Home of the Mandalorian soul", planet Mandalore

Buy'ce — helmet

Mando'ade — Mandalorians. Lit "children of Mandalore"

Kad'au — Lightsaber

Adiika — child, kid, someone under thirteen.

Cabur — guardian, person who's taking care of a child but isn't their parent.

Dral'han is the orbital bombardment of Mandalore, done by the Republic in roughly 800BBY. As Terith says, entire Clans were wiped out from existance. They understand why the Jedi didn't do anything (in fact, they're self-aware enough to know they'd do worse), but they're still angry, rightfully so. Zahara knows it too, makes no attempt to justify it, and explains that most Jedi know it was fucked up and are making plans for reparations.

Terith: *says Mandalorians have attempted reconciliation, that the Mandalorians who kill Jedi Padawans are all dead and that Jedi don't consider the Mandalorians' plight* Zahara: Amazing. Every word of what you just said was wrong.

Zahara means her enishee and Padawan-sibling. She stumbles over the words because there is no good translation in Basic.

"Over seven hundred and sixty years" AKA since the Dral'han.

Milodons are huge, insect-like animals native to Quarzite, the kages' home planet. Kage Warriors often use them as mounts. And, because kage memory is Like That, Zahara has fond memories of riding a milodon as a toddler. Like most other Jedi, Zahara is very close to the culture she was born in and has incorporated many Kage Warrior traditions into her life (now I'll have brain-rot about this fictional culture we know literally nothing about in order to flesh out Zahara more, yay!).

The right hand over the heart (left side of the chest for kages, humans and kiffars, varies in other species) is the kage gesture of oath taking. However, it's also a Mandalorian salute. Terith is a bit confused, but easily and correctly guesses it's a gesture of oath taking, but incorrectly assumes it's a Jedi one.

"We will help you once we are sure you won't murder our children" is not exactly an unreasonable demand. Unfortunately, many Mandalorians don't know it's still happening because bigots and Jedi hunters have learned to hide their…hobbies. So, to them, it looks like the Jedi still hold a grudge for something that happened (under their point of view, remember different species have widely different lifespans and memories) a long time ago. It's common in fanfiction to depict Mandalorians as diverse, but in the many canonical sources I've checked (Disney and Legends), while there has been alien ancestry mentioned (which isn't a feat considering the size of the galaxy), those considered Mandalorians are nearly always human. It's weird. So I've decided that there are multiple species among Mandalorians, but most of them are near-humans (trogutas, zabraks, twi'leks, kiffars, kages, etc), not netis, kel dors or whatever species Yoda is, so they don't have members of long-lived species that lived through the Excision or the New Sith Wars, unlike the Jedi who do have first hand accounts.

"Two of my Siblings are dead at Mandalorian hands" Drovan her crechemate is the first "sibling" of Zahara's killed by Mandalorians. The other (who hasn't come up yet) is Feemor. Feemor was registered as a Watchman and a Finder, although he was actually a Shadow, and adored kids. His death kickstarts a chain reaction of events of epic, galactic-wide proportions, so any details will be spoilers (Zahara says siblings because there is no good word in Basic to describe Jedi relationships She once claimed Basic sucks as a teenager and hasn't backed down since)

For the record, I'd like to state the Battle of Galindraan has already happened here. I want to state that, despite common fandom misconception, the Mandalorians shot first. While the Jedi had their Lightsabers drawn (perfectly reasonable considering the Mandalorians are enemies nearly as ancient as the Sith), they were a fair distance away and couldn't attack unless they were reflecting blaster shots ie. self defense.

"Armored aristocrat". This misunderstanding is a result of a cultural miscommunication. In the past (when Tarre Vizla was alive and Jedi-Mandalorian relationships were "enemy of my enemy" rather than complete animosity), only those born in important Houses (Vizla, Wren and Kryze) could afford a full beskar armor (those Houses have a few hundred people each). Beskar is, after all, rare and expensive. This is why Zahara assumes Terith is from a noble House, which in her mind translates to "aristocratic bastard". However, the gorane decided, at some point when the Houses' influence had dimmed, to dilute and alloy beskar with other more common and less expensive metals, both to make their jobs easier and to give more people armor. This, paired with the recent trend of passing down armor through families, most Mandalorians have their own beskar'gam instead of just the kar'ta (heart of the armor, where the sigil representing Clan and faction is).

To add to the above point, choosing to make Wren and Vizla important Houses was because, in TCW, it's mentioned that most people want Satine as a ruler and are in favor of, at least, most of her policies and reforms, but the warrior elite hates her guts (which implies most Mandalorians aren't actually warriors, unlike what fanon seems to believe, only the elite can be warriors).

Said warrior elite founded Death Watch to commit terrorism and scare the people enough that they'd accept them ruling with an iron fist. Death Watch members are basically privileged nobles and aristocrats throwing a temper tantrum because they can't get away with being assholes anymore.

The mission to Quarzite was supposed to be simple and easy enough for a young Knight and their very young Padawan. But the Senate is careless with Jedi lives, and sends them on missions understaffed or with faulty intel every other time. A missing Padawan, particularly a Padawan as young as the one missing, is cause for alarm. Hence why Zahara was pulled from the investigation of Feemor's murder and sent to find the missing Knight and Padawan. The Council isn't very optimistic, but they want to have corpses to burn, Lightsabers and kybers to honor them and some consolation of knowing what happened to them.

In case it wasn't clear, the Knight and Padawan that went missing in the middle of a warzone are Obi-Wan and Anakin. Because of course they are, it's Obi-Wan and Anakin we're talking about.

The war Zahara mentions is the one between kages and belugans. The belugans have been subjugating the kages for centuries, and the kages fighting back caused the start of a war. Anakin and Obi-Wan were supposed to negotiate a standard and boring corporate dispute between two belugan corporations. However, Anakin is beginning to learn bad behaviors (mainly from Palpatine) and decided to do something stupidly reckless.

"Somehow". Indeed, the Jedi have no fucking idea of how all those events even fit together. Then they realize Obi-Wan and Anakin are members of Yoda's line and go "yeah that makes sense." Feemor is the only sane one in that crazy lineage, and he's a fucking Shadow that busts slave rings in his downtime!

[timeisacephalopod]

The perils of loving true crime content but hating when it veers into either Tough On Crime right wing reactionary content or Weird Gratuitous Descriptions of Crimes territory. I find the first far more than the second and it drives me nuts that anyone could think prison will solve violence when prison in itself is a wildly violent place that obviously doesn't work. If it did the US would be Squeaky Clean Crimeless and that ain't true.

Seriously though I love true crime content but these days have such a hard time finding stuff that gives the facts of the story plainly without deciding to advocate for ridiculous prison sentences and a bunch of other copaganda adjacent shit is surprisingly difficult and frankly says a lot about the way we discuss, conceptualize, and react to crime. Especially when a lot of crime is literally just criminalizing addiction, a mental health problem, so fully defending and uncritically advocating for the prison and policing system especially when true crime stories are more often than not stories of police incompetence is just baffling. And no just because true crime tends to mean violent crime that does not mean prison will solve the problem any more than it would solve an addicts addiction and frankly I don't even want an ideological slant I just want the damn facts without right wing shit being evangelized to me. Wonder how many people even notice this shit, because its so ingrained in true crime content that it feels like the only ones who notice are insufferable blue hair pronoun using leftists like myself.

[hazbinbabbling4ever]

Unpopular opinion: harry naming one of his children after 2 not perfect characters is one of the best things from that weird epilogue where basically all the children were named after dead people. Which is the worst thing from that weird ending.

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 24

Honor Bound 6 - 24 (Not Used to Freedom) - @badthingshappenbingo

Requested by @who-needs-a-life-anyways

Red X for posted, white X for requested! Send in your requests! If you don’t see a prompt here that you already requested, please send it again!

~

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: past captivity, themes of self-harm, past hallucinations, angst, recovery, Gavin being a feral Pomeranian with Isaac desperately holding the leash, frank discussion of murder, past child abuse, complicated feelings about abusers, Isaac "it's not my fault my love language is Acts of Service and all I know how to do is kill" Moore, discussion of dead parents

~

For the third time in three days, Gavin woke with no collar around his neck. He woke with a soft mattress beneath him and a thick, warm blanket over him, and the golden late-September sun creeping into the window. The shades were pulled back, so that the sun could come in and so that he could see out, see that he wasn’t in a small windowless basement with stairs up to a single door, a high ceiling, and a gallows against one wall.

Most importantly, he woke next to the warm, strong body of the man who had saved him, and he told himself yet again like a fervent prayer that this wasn’t Schiester’s cruelest hallucination yet.

Gavin rolled closer to Isaac and tucked his head in the hollow of Isaac’s throat. He didn’t know if Isaac was awake, or if it was simple unconscious instinct that had Isaac’s arms drawing around him and holding him close, but he didn’t care. He breathed out a shaky sigh and allowed himself to be held. There was warmth, here, unlike anything he had ever felt in the depths of Schiester’s basement. Even with the blankets he had earned with his desperate, often false confessions, nothing had ever felt even close to this warm. It had only ever been the chill of the air and of Schiester’s gaze, and the fire of the cane, the knife, the beatings. Then the chill, again, of being so completely, utterly alone.

Tears wet the pillow beneath Gavin’s head, and he sniffled. He hadn’t meant to start crying.

A hand cradled his cheek, and he pressed his lips to Isaac’s palm. The tears flowed freely now. His face screwed up and he buried it against Isaac’s chest.

“Gavin?” Isaac’s chest rumbled against Gavin’s ear. Gentle fingers slid through Gavin’s short hair, and he shivered at the soft touch. It had been days of soft touch, of clean clothes, of a warm bed, of hot food… Surely Schiester wouldn’t let him feel this relief for days. The only price had been watching Isaac’s pain as he reeled from his memories of Rosa, watching Isaac as he struggled so, so hard not to punish himself for all the shame that threatened to crush him – and nearly losing his own life again at the hands of another specter with cold blue eyes.

But that was Edrissa, not Schiester. And Sam said they really don’t think she’s going to try again.

“Are you alright?” Isaac rasped, tilting Gavin’s face up so he could get a good look. Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together over dark eyes and darker circles beneath them. The kindness in his eyes, the concern, fully undid him. Gavin’s throat closed around a sob.

“No, look,” Isaac said, his own voice tight. He guided Gavin’s face up, tilted it so he was looking at the room, dimly lit by the sun. “This is real. You’re safe, Gavin, you’re—”

“N-no, I, I know,” Gavin whispered. “I think… I know.” Isaac let out a breath. “I’m just…” Gavin pulled Isaac close again, buried his face in his neck. Tears wet the collar of Isaac’s sleeping shirt. “I was just… so scared. So alone.”

“I know,” Isaac said brokenly.

“I thought was going to die,” Gavin whimpered.

“I kn-know,” came the reply. Isaac’s arms tightened around him.

“I thought… I thought I… I thought I broke you, I thought I made you hate me so much you’d l-leave me there…”

Count yourself lucky.

Ice clutched Gavin’s chest, threatened to drag him away from Isaac’s arms and down, down into the depths of Schiester’s basement again. It was always waiting for him, always there. He simply had to close his eyes and let himself be pulled in.

A hand, gentle as a kiss but strong as iron, slid under Gavin’s jaw and lifted his face until his eyes met Isaac’s again. Isaac’s lips trembled as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that he… that he ever made you feel that way. That he ever made it possible. But Gavin… no. No. You didn’t break me. And I could…” The hand on Gavin’s jaw began to shake. “I could never… leave you there, Gavin, I’m… sorry it took me so long to—”

“Don’t,” Gavin breathed, and shook his head. “Don’t.” He reached up and twined his fingers through Isaac’s, kissing each scarred knuckle. Gavin’s breaths were shaky and ragged, and Isaac’s matched his.

Gavin forced himself to draw in a slow breath through his nose.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Nothing smelled like Isaac in the basement, but Gavin could smell Isaac all around him now. It calmed him, slowed the stuttering beat of his heart. He scrubbed at the tears with his sleeve and met Isaac’s eyes again.

“I want to go outside again today,” he said with an uncertain smile.

Isaac’s lips curved up. “That sounds nice. Any particular place, or…?”

“Just outside,” Gavin said. “Anywhere. The town again, or…” He trailed off as Isaac’s smile froze. “Or the woods, maybe…”

“We can go into town,” Isaac said thickly. “We can, um…” He swallowed hard. His thumb rubbed along his forearm over his long sleeve, back and forth, and unconscious movement that made Gavin’s own scars itch. “If you want—”

“I don’t want to run into Rosa again,” Gavin said as he gently took Isaac’s wrist in his hand. Isaac went rigid and met Gavin’s eyes with a startled look. “I… that’s the last thing I want.”

Isaac swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. “If we, um, r-run into her while we’re out, then—”

“I don’t want to run into her again if not allowed to kill her, Isaac,” Gavin said, as calmly as he could muster.

Isaac’s eyes flew open. His pulse raced under Gavin’s fingers. “S-sorry?” he mumbled.

“After what she did to you?” Gavin said, feeling rage coiling inside him like an injured predator. He thought his fury had been beaten out of him, cut out of him.

Not when it comes to my family. Not when it comes to Isaac.

He cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “After what she… did to you,” he murmured, “I don’t want to see her again unless you’ll let me at her next time.”

“You could barely stand,” Isaac huffed, incredulous.

“I could have done damage,” Gavin said. His stomach roiled with bitter hatred for the woman who had looked at Isaac as he fell apart in front of her, because of what she had done to him, and laughed.

Laughed.

“You don’t know her,” Isaac said, shifting his gaze down. “She made me, um, who I am.”

“Bullshit she did, Isaac,” Gavin snapped. “She taught you how to handle a weapon and take inhuman amounts of punishment, and she cheated because you were already ready to do the second thing. And she couldn’t even beat you in a fair fight, so I think I stand a fair chance at half strength.”

“She can… but I…” Isaac shook his head as if dazed. “You’re not at half strength, Gavin.”

Gavin snorted, his eyes still blazing. “Fine. A quarter. My point still stands, she’s a fucking piss-ant weakling that couldn’t beat you with one arm tied behind your back, so you should have let me at least try while I had my shot at her. I don’t know if I’ll get another chance.”

Isaac’s brow furrowed. “Why do you keep… She’s not weak, she used to beat me every fucking night. She used to beat me into the fucking ground. And—”

“First off, that’s fucking horrifying, so I hope you registered what you just said.” Isaac opened his mouth, but Gavin kept going. “Second, how old were you when that was happening?”

Isaac blinked. “Um… I mean, I was… younger, but… even once I got a little older, she could still take me with the others, she could still—”

“So she could beat you as long as there were multiple other people you were fighting? Along with her?” Gavin’s head was beginning to throb.

“I mean… sometimes it was one-on-one with her, at the end of the night, when—”

“When you were tired?”

Isaac looked at Gavin helplessly. “I mean… yes, when I was tired, but sometimes you have to fight when you’re tired—”

“But I’m guessing she was always fresh when this happened.” Gavin’s jaw ached, too. He forced himself to relax it.

“I… I don’t remember, but… yeah, I guess she was fresh more often than not…?”

Gavin was shaking with rage. “Why didn’t you let me fucking kill this woman?” he breathed. “Who hurt you and used you and made you think, after all of this, that she was somehow stronger than you, so you were too scared to fight back against all of it?”

“I wouldn’t have fought back,” Isaac said as he shook his head. “I would have lost the family if I… if I ever…”

Gavin fell silent. He had no answer, no retort for the words that faded between them. Gavin had never fought back, either. He had never even considered it. He had been so young when his parents first made him afraid that he never remembered there being another option.

And, just like Isaac, he had been saved when his family cast him out when he failed to be what they made him.

“S-sorry,” Gavin rasped, and pressed his lips to Isaac’s scarred knuckles again. “I’m… I’m just… angry. At what she did to you.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said softly. “I’m getting that.”

“You’re not angry?” Gavin’s eyes flicked up to Isaac’s.

“Um…” Isaac wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I am. A little. But mostly there’s just… shame.” He seemed to be trying very, very hard not to press on the newest cuts on his forearms – the ones not left by Gavin, but by Isaac himself. “I mean… are you angry at your parents?”

“Yes,” Gavin answered, without hesitation. Then, “But… mostly for… what they did to you. The family.”

Isaac huffed and pressed a kiss to Gavin’s hair. “Feelings about the people who hurt us doesn’t ever seem to make much sense. I wasn’t angry at my mother for… years. I mean… I didn’t realize I felt anything but guilt for her until this year, and even then it’s… hard.”

“Yeah,” Gavin whispered. He drew in a deep breath and let it out.

“For what it’s worth, while we’re on the topic of parents and killing people,” Isaac said, “I know this might be… kind of a weird thing to say.” He gently cradled Gavin’s face and pressed their foreheads together. “But for what your parents did to you… I’m jealous that Vera got to kill both of them. Doesn’t seem fair.”

Grief, familiar and faded, washed through Gavin’s chest. A bitter laugh tightened in his throat. “That’s fair,” he said. “And definitely the most romantic thing you’ve said all morning.”

“I do what I can,” Isaac said with an equally tense laugh, but the arms around Gavin were careful and warm. Gavin fit into them like Isaac’s arms were home – the only home he’d ever known. All his parents’ homes, his warehouse in the east prairie, the Crayton house, the lake house – they had all been places he’d laid his head, but none of them had ever been home. The only place that he had ever rested, the only place he had ever found peace, was in the arms of the man who held him now – the arms of the man he thought he had broken a second time. Tears burned in his eyes again and he blinked them away. He didn’t want to spend the morning crying and angry. He wanted to spend the morning outside with the sun on his face and his hand twined with Isaac’s.

“I want to get up,” Gavin said softly, and pushed himself upright. “We don’t have to go into town, but… please, Isaac, let’s—”

“No, we can go into town,” Isaac said with a shaky smile. “If Rosa lives here, then… I’ll have to find a way to make peace with that. And if you want to go into town, then… for fuck’s sake, we’re going into town, and no one is going to stop us.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Gavin’s cheek. Gavin turned his head and caught Isaac’s mouth in a kiss that Isaac broke after only a moment.

Gavin’s smile faltered. “To town it is,” he said softly. “And then it would be good to visit with Vera and Tori?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Isaac said. He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stripped off his shirt. “We have some stuff to catch them up on.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said as he averted his eyes from Isaac’s scars. “Yeah, we do.”

Continued here

@womping-grounds ​, @free-2bmee ​, @quirkykayleetam ​, @walkingchemicalfire ​, @inpainandsuffering ​, @redwingedwhump ​, @burtlederp ​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog ​ , @whatwhumpcomments ​, @whumpywhumper ​, @stxck-fxck ​, @whumps-the-word ​, @justplainwhump ​, @finder-of-rings ​, @inky-whump ​, @orchidscript ​, @inkyinsanity ​, @this-mightaswell-happen ​, @newandfiguringitout ​, @whumpkitty ​, @pretty-face-breaker ​, @pebbledriscoll ​, @im-just-here-for-the-whump ​, @endless-whump ​, @grizzlie70 ​, @oops-its-whump ​, @kixngiggles​, @1phoenixfeather ​ , @butwhatifyouwrite ​, @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

[mad-hunts]

[[ I have questions about Barton's thoughts on cannibalism and some of the aspects it holds and means to him. Now suppose, SUPPOSE!!! We go the whole Death of the Family route. And adjust it to fit our respective takes of Barton and Joker. Are there any feelings regarding the whole process of taking Joker's face off? ]]

AHH, forgive me for how late i am to replying to this, but thank you so much for the ask! i really do love y'all for wanting to know more about him tehe <33 BUT onto the rather taboo matter that is cannibalism, i would honestly be more than happy to talk to you about it in relation to barton's character more ( because i know we already talked about it a bit together, buttt of course, making posts about these things is always fun and i want you guys to always feel free to ask me questions about things on here :D ) . because being a cannibal is one of his most unfavorable traits since it is... well, VERY morally depraved, to put it simply. and perhaps surprisingly enough, this is the one aspect of what barton does that he usually doesn't try to excuse and/or just completely NOT care about it's inherent evilness. i'd honestly say that his thoughts about it are heavily negative and he tends to regret it afterwards in the occasion that he remembers he has done it (and just a quick refresher here, i say 'in the occasion that he remembers' because barton has suffered from blackouts before where his brain was just like ' oh, so we're doing this now, huh? yeahhh... i don't think we're going to be able to cope wth remembering this, so we're just going to metaphorically pack it somewhere where it can't be accessed.')

and it's, unfortunately, not so simple as him being able to stop doing it just because he knows it's gross + wrong. because i have to admit that this is hard for me to articulate properly into words but cannibalizing is like something that fills a void for him. which is SUPER twisted, of course, but most cannibals throughout history that also happened to be serial killers were extreme loners and don't have a lot of friends. so although it's criminal and definitely not something i condone, killing and eating someone for barton is like ensuring he is never alone in a way, because it's as if he is 'carrying the victim' along with him as part of a trophy. and this feeling is wickedly intoxicating for him because he is just SO alone all of the time. also, being able to have power like that over someone is appealing to barton, as i've read in several studies that some cannibals do what they do because it gives them this sick sense of satisfaction. and it makes him feel powerful because he's capable of doing something so few people have ( i mean, for good reason because it's TERRIBLE in ways i can't even describe, but barton is a very deranged individual y'all (,,: ) + it gives him that dopamine rush even though it really shouldn't.

but yeah. that's why, when it comes to people coming across barton while he may be in the act of doing so, that he almost appears as if he's high probably a good chunk of the time 💀 like the man is TRULY a menace to society jsjsj but this momentary 'bliss' doesn't last long, as i was saying that he normally regrets doing it afterwards and it tends to sometimes even give him stomach aches by psychogenic means. and when he's like this, i hope this makes sense whenever i say this, but barton feels the most unhuman-like that he probably ever does so it also... scares him in a way??? yeah, i'd say that's pretty accurate. and so barton will normally deflect whenever the issue is brought up by other people in conversation. though, strangely enough, he also uses it to his advantage a bit to scare people he really doesn't like. as a threat is a lot more powerful when you know that someone is capable of doing it so if barton were to tell another muse that, if they betray him again like that, that he'll EAT them?? idk about that muse but i would be like ' oH. NO, I WAS TOTALLY NOT GOING TO DO THAT PSHHH ' and just completely brush away any plans i might've had of betraying him SKSKK

BUT yes, i hope that answered your question regarding his thoughts about cannibalism and what it means to him, as well as what some of the aspects hold to him. it is basically a brutal reminder that wesley still holds influence on him even after his death, honestly, as harrowing as that might sound because without him — he likely wouldn't have started doing it at all. so, in the case of barton's story, his bio father does 'haunt the narrative' as some people may call it. but OOH, honestly, like i was telling you before... i think it would be intriguing to maybe figure out a way it could be implemented between them so if you want to end up doing that, then do let me know!! but there is absolutely no pressure so don't feel like you have to. and as for feelings surrounding the removal of the joker's face, it isn't touched upon in the comics, BUT i'm going to be honest. barton is basically my OC now so i shall be telling you my perspective on how doing it made him feel. because barton deals in 'dead things' like he would call it, especially at the time that death of the family took place, i believe that he would be morbidly excited about the occasion of being able to quote unquote 'do his work on someone who's actually alive' and thus he would be a willing participant to it... just like barton was in the comics. though, i know that's messed up.

barton is just SO into the mindset that he is a 'creator' like we were talking about and since he didn't know at the time just how bad joker was, barton would have little to no reason to be wary about working with her. and he finds beauty in grotesque / unusual things so he likely would've seen it as some form of macabre form of art especially if it was... well, hooked on the wall, like it was in that panel of the comic 🫠 BUT ANYWAY enough of talking about gross things! the point i was trying to make is, barton would be excited to help her as sickkk as that sounds and if joker viewed it as some sort of rebirth / transformation just like the character did in the comics as well? then perhapsss barton would be proud that he's helping someone in a very questionable and gross way to become their more 'authentic self,' so yeahhh. i hope you enjoyed my response to this even though i know it was a bit long-winded!! i just wanted to cover everything is all, haha

[arolesbianism]

Y'know I know I've said like a billion times I don't want to know shit abt Jackie's past but erm. Hi klei. Please just tell me if Josephine and Alan are her parents or some miscellaneous relative this is so important. Did Jackie seriously come from a household with a colonel and another person with a doctorate or does she just happen to be related to them this is so important for how I decide to move forward with my Jackie hcs and with my aus in general I need to know so bad tell me right fucking now

[ships-n-bats]

So hilariously hypocritical of some Kat//aangers to claim that Zuko was enabling Katara during her journey of grief and self-healing yet praise Katara for being an enabler towards Aang and never allowing him to grow as a character. At least with Zuko’s enabling, it led to Katara growing as a character and being able to get some closure over her mother’s murder, meanwhile Aang is stuck as a perpetual child because Katara can’t bring herself to upset him in any way.

I really don't understand how you can ship zutara? I understand that they feed of each other, but they do it in the worst way possible. In the Southern Raiders Katara was bloodbending and angrier than we've ever seen her, she nearly killed someone, and you know what Zuko was doing? Encouraging her. Aang is her rock, yes he screwed up in the Ember Island Players episode but in the end Katara choose him, because he brought out the best in her (visa versa) zutara is a great friendship but not ship.

This is absolute tripe. They “feed off each other in the worst way”. Katara’s anger in Southern Raiders was neither instigated by Zuko nor contrary to what you assert did he encourage her to violence. While he personally felt Yon Rha deserved to pay for the murder of Katara’s mother, Zuko never once told her what to do. He provided her with the information to find and confront the man and when Katara made the decision ultimately not to kill, he did not protest nor try to goad her into changing her mind. He accepted her decision. Contrast this with her supposed “rock”, Aang, who demanded that she forgive her mother’s murderer and just get over it. Katara could never just get over it. She needed to confront the man in order to find closure, something Aang never understood but Zuko did. 

And while we are on the subject of Aang, just how is he her rock? All the heartfelt discussions they had were one sided. It was always Katara acting as his support, encouraging him to fulfill his duties as Avatar and pulling him back from the brink of becoming a weapon of mass destruction.Aang didn’t help her resolve her issues or lend a sympathetic ear. That was, sorry to tell you, Zuko. It was Zuko whom she was able to bond with over the loss of her mother in the crystal catacombs and it was Zuko who accompanied her on her journey to confront Yon Rha, a journey Aang saw no point in and was actually compelled to let her go on because he realized after her attempted theft of Appa, she wasn’t going to give up on this. Aang didn’t bring out the best in Katara. Rather than subdue a man threatening Aang with a fireball using a nonlethal method in the Promise comics considered canon, Katara nearly kills him. This was something she couldn’t even do to avenge her mother. You know who stops her then? Not her so called rock but Zuko. 

On Aang’s end, his relationship with Katara was a double edged sword. While it is true that his feelings for Katara have as I mentioned pulled him back from the edge, they’ve also driven him to said edge, held him back from mastery of his powers and led him to commit many selfish actions. Aang could be instantly thrown into the destructive Avatar state if Katara was placed in danger. He refused to complete his training with the Guru because he refused to give up his attachment to her. Because he feared losing her, Aang hid the map to Hakoda’s location from Bato, his second in command, which could have potentially affected Hakoda’s ability to wage war against the Fire Nation because he would be devoid of Bato’s assistance had Aang not eventually fessed up to what he’d done. Katara’s “gentle nudge” approach is in many ways enabling. By telling him it was meant to be this way, Katara tries to keep Aang from feeling guilt for leaving the Southern Air Temple. While it is true that Aang could potentially have died had he stayed behind, having guilt over it was not necessarily a bad thing for Aang to have as it could have motivated him and drove him to hone himself into his role. Instead throughout season one, he continues to goof off. Aang is a ditherer by nature and only really steps up when pressured into a confrontation where something he values highly such as a friend is in jeopardy. Katara’s stroking of his ego did not drive him to learn earthbending. The threat to Sokka’s life is what did. 

Katara seldom outright confronts Aang on his bad behavior in contrast to her treatment of other characters. You will never see her shout at Aang no matter how crappy he acts and yet she has no problem telling Toph she’s selfish and unhelpful, Zuko that he is a terrible person or Pakku that he is a sour old man. But you will never ever hear an unkind word said to Aang. He is above reproach. She will disagree with him but it will always be in the form of gentle persuasion. In Legend of Korra, we really see the results of her inability to confront him directly. Aang’s tendency to favor his airbending son is never addressed and is allowed to continue throughout the childhood of Aang’s three children that Bumi and Kya grow up bitter, feeling themselves as outcasts from Aang’s legacy. 

Yes, in the end, Katara did choose Aang but it wasn’t because they brought out the best in each other.  It’s because that’s what the Bryke wanted, something they even admit now was contrived.