#idk what to really tag that but that is such an important tag for this fic

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

hey, im assuming its a mistake but just fyi the whole vague "noticing patterns" language is an antisemitic dogwhistle: https://www.tumblr.com/onethirdofimpossible/726829590062006272?source=share

no idea who the account you shared from is, just wanted to pass this on!

Okay so I got this message when I woke up this morning and decided to delete the post until I got around to checking out the OP's blog. Nothing about their blog has anything to do with antisemitic movements or even hints at potential content like that.

The original post is this

It's specifically referring to literature and academia (don't love that it's tagged with harry potter but I know that fandom is still tied up to those circles)

I think we have to be careful about policing speech and "calling out" things that may not actually be there. I get that the point of a dog whistle is that no one is supposed to understand what it means except the Nazis. But these people really aren't as slick as they think they are with this sort of thing.

A good example is the "okay" sign that got co-opted as a white power dog whistle. It's been used pretty obviously by white supremists who think they're being really clever about it but like... they're using it in the middle of a "white power" rally while waving Nazi flags. It's not exactly subtle.

Whereas we also used that sign in scuba diving to signal "okay", with a thumbs up being "ascend" (which confused the hell out of me as chronic "thumb up-er" when I was learning). I'm pretty sure when we're signaling "okay" 20m under the ocean we're not secretly signally "white power". Context is important.

This post and everyone reblogging it is not talking about any sort of conspiracy theory - just how being in a fandom and being excited about something makes you notice patterns and parallels. It's also kind of an "autism meme" too.

But idk... I know when people reach out to "let me know" about something, it's in good faith but it's... frustrating when the context is pretty obviously not that. Being paranoid about dog whistles is kind of the whole point of them.

White supremists/antisemites ect. like having power over others by making them question reality and gaslighting them. But again, they're usually about as subtle as a brick wall about this sort of thing. Not saying they can't be quiet about it sometimes but ... it usually isn't hard to spot. Especially on personal blogs.

Maybe I'm just tired that leftist spaces continue to try to tone police and "call out" their own in-groups *just in case* someone might be a secret Nazi while the real actual Nazis and Christian Nationalists are quite literally taking over the American government (which affects the entire world, especially countries where I live like Australia that are allies with the US and extremely influenced by their politics).

And actual Nazis aren't even using dog whistles any more, they're marching in the streets loud and proud because they feel empowered enough to do so...

So idk... maybe lets focus on that and work on mobilising and organising against what is going to be a really rough 4 years.... Though I wouldn't even be surprised if it goes beyond that, looking at past history and what happens when fascism takes power...

[captn-trex]

angel of small death

Howzer x F!Reader / Twi'lek!Reader 

word count: 10k / 24k

part one | part two | part three

description: after the rise of the Empire, Howzer finds his position on Ryloth to be precarious at best, but his attention is drawn from his troubles when he finds himself captivated by a new politician’s arrival

warnings/tags: NSFW 18+ !!! strangers to lovers, mutual pining, a little bit of political stuff, fluff, smut, dirty talk, fingering, pinv sex, soft dom!howzer, praise kink, title kink? edging? oh my I'm so bad at tagging smut

a/n: for the full effect, listen to jeff buckley’s ‘everybody here wants you’ at the beginning. did I give reader lilac skin just because of this song? yes. yes I did. don't ask me what's goin on with the smut ok, idk either. wkfjh why am I scared to share this I just want to hide in a hole forever now. also sorry about the poem. (whole thing in one is on ao3)

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

Ostentatious. That was the word Howzer would use to describe Senator Orn Free Taa's estate.

High ceilings, gaudy silver curtains and a vivid blue carpet that ran throughout the marble halls. It resembled the more imposing areas of the senate bureau, but devoid of any of the charm. Thankfully, the room that Howzer would have to be standing at attention in for the duration of the evening was slightly less over the top, though no less opulent with its golden chandeliers and dark wood floor.

The people, however, left much to be desired. Extravagantly dressed Senators and other people of political importance shared sparkling drinks in fancy glasses, talking, laughing and dancing with each other. Every smile he saw seemed false, an act that should be genuine reduced to a political play. He couldn't help but think that you didn't fit in here, but then again, you weren't here. Howzer hadn't seen you since yesterday, and with the celebration already in full swing, he didn't presume that he would.

The lavish party was supposed to be a celebration, an important day in Ryloth’s history, but with the way the people in front of him went on, and how the discussions of late had been, Howzer couldn't help but let indignance rise in his gut. Not a single one of these politicians cared about Ryloth. They didn't care about its past or its present, and they certainly didn't care about its future.

It was sickening. The wealth that surrounded him was unmistakable in a particularly vile way. It was all a distraction from what was really going on, the corruption that was embedded within the people who held the power.

Any negative thoughts spilled from Howzer's mind as soon as his eyes caught the figure standing at the top of the grand staircase. He was pretty sure that his heart actually stopped beating at the sight of you.

You had forgone you heavy robes in favour of a silky dress that hung from your figure and perfectly framed your body, a thin scarf that laid over your neck and draped down your back, and a headpiece adorned by pearly beads that dangled around your face and down your lekku. The thing that caught Howzer's attention the most, however, was the colour of your dress. It was teal, the exactly shade that decorated his armour. He couldn't help but think that you looked incredible in his colour, perfectly complimenting the hues of your skin.

He watched as you gracefully descended the stairs, one hand sliding along the rail, the other holding your dress so you wouldn't trip. You were a vision, like an angel descending from the sky, and suddenly Howzer didn't care at all about whether or not he was allowed to have you.

At the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by a small crowd that had gathered during your entrance. Howzer had been too enraptured by you yourself to notice, his mouth still hung open a fraction as he watched you navigate through the people demanding your attention. He wasn't surprised in the least, you were the most gorgeous being here by far.

As you made your way across the room, seemingly zeroed in on something, or someone, Howzer saw that your dress was backless, plunging down to your lower back, the only thing covering your skin being the thin, almost non-existent scarf that hung from your neck. He had to bite into his lip to save from letting his jaw hit the floor.

You made your way over to a Pantoran woman dressed in maroon, whose eyes widened comically upon seeing you, throwing her arms around your neck and almost knocking you back. Your laughter carried across the room, entering through Howzer ears and bouncing around in his head, the most delightful thing he'd ever heard. The woman handed you a drink, clinking your glasses together as you beamed at each other.

Your back was to him as the two of you caught up, and he couldn't help but trail his eyes down your body. He wondered what it would be like to be able to touch you, how your skin would feel as he ran a hand down your spine. It felt like you were taunting him, begging him to lose his composure. Whether you meant to or not, it was working.

Howzer was so lost in admiring you that he missed the way your friend nodded to him, catching him in the act. You turned, your eyes searching for a moment before your gaze settled on him. It froze him in his place, his eyes locked with yours. You swirled your drink gently in your hand, offering a small smile to him before turning back to your conversation, but not before Howzer managed to catch the blush that tinted your cheeks.

You continued to talk with your Pantoran friend, until she got called away by someone else, leaving you by yourself for the time being. Howzer was itching to go over and talk with you, just be close with you in any way he could, despite his previous words about how forbidden it was. Before he could make up his mind, another man had slid up next to you, a wry smile on his lips and a playful glint in his eye that made Howzer's stomach turn. He watched on as the two of you settled into a conversation, mostly him doing the talking. You gave him the time of day all the same, much to Howzer's chagrin.

“What's your name trooper?”

Howzer couldn't help but jump slightly at the unexpected voice to his left, and he swivelled his head around to the source. The Pantoran woman that you had been chatting to before was stood next to him, a curious expression on her face.

“Howzer, ma'am” he replied firmly.

“Please, drop the formalities” she waved him off with a smile, and he was reminded of the first time that he talked to you, “I'm Riyo”

The woman stuck out her hand, and Howzer shook it firmly with a small smile of his own.

“Now,” she spoke, something mischievous sliding across her face, “are you going to go and talk to my friend, or are you just going to stare at her all night?”

Howzer’s eyebrows shot up, instantly feeling his face heat up under the scrutiny of the small woman.

“I— uh, Senator, I don't know what you— I wasn't— I wouldn't—” he stumbled through a number of phrases before Riyo cut him off.

“Howzer” she caught his attention, a small smirk on her lips as she noticed his cheeks darkening by the second, “you can drop the act with me. I saw the way you were looking at her, and I know she wants you to go over”

Howzer frowned, “she told you that?”

“No…” she admitted, “but I've also never seen anyone else make her blush”

Howzer felt his heart skip a beat. The idea of him being an exception in being able to break your composure made his blood run hot all of a sudden. He cast his eyes back over to you, locked in conversation with the same man and listening intently as he leant back on the wall, head tilted towards you. When he looked back to Riyo, she gave him a knowing look.

“Just don't wait forever” she instructed with a hand on his shoulder, and Howzer nodded to her before she turned away.

A determination set into him as his eyes found your form again. A somewhat dreamy sigh passed his lips, taking in the way you stood with your weight rested on one leg, your hip jutting out just a little as you brought your glass to your lips. Howzer adjusted his grip on his helmet, watching the way your throat bobbed as you took a sip.

Your eyes momentarily left the man in your company and slid over towards Howzer from behind the rim of the glass, and he had to suppress a smirk when you discreetly rolled your eyes, no doubt in mocking of the man who was still waffling on. It pleased him to know that he could hold your attention from across the room, when the same couldn't be said for someone stood right beside you.

After a few minutes of entertaining the man’s conversation, you interrupted him with a point of your finger, excusing yourself. Howzer’s breath stuttered at the prospect of you making your way over to him, but instead he watched as you walked towards the opposite side of the hall and slipped outside, cracking the door just open enough for your frame to fit through.

Howzer cast a glance around the room to see if anyone was looking his way, then surreptitiously followed in your footsteps around the edge of the large room. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of you leaning your elbows against the stone railing at the edge of the deck, looking out over the expanse of the Senator's gardens. He had to admit that the view was stunning, but the sight of you leant forwards, your dress pooling at your sides and exposing more of your skin to the moonlight, was a far more alluring sight.

Your head turned to the side as you heard the door shut, your lips quirking into a half-smile.

“Captain” you nodded to him in acknowledgement.

“Ma'am” he replied, a small smirk winding its way onto his face.

A breathy laugh left your lips, you head shaking slightly, “I'm not— you shouldn't call me that”

Howzer shrugged, “you look the part”

You chuckled, your expression pleasant as you turned your body to face the other way, resting your back against the cool stone. The headpiece that you wore caught the light of the moon perfectly, contrasting with the warm glow from indoors, and once again Howzer couldn’t help but compare you to the beautiful paintings he had seen. His features were then weighed down by a seriousness, and he spoke more softly, more sincerely.

“You look beautiful”

Your lips lifted a little as an amused hum reverberated in your throat, and you looked to your feet when your cheeks flushed with colour, turning your face from his in an attempt to hide it.

“Thank you” you replied, “as do you”

Howzer's lips lifted into a genuine smile at the unexpected compliment, albeit somewhat of a deflection from his own.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked, moving on quickly.

Your eyes lifted back to his, and you paused for a moment, dropping your head to the side before answering, “not really”

“How come?”

You shrugged one shoulder, your smile rueful, “not my scene”

Howzer nodded, glancing inside at the outlandishly dressed party guests and the splendour that surrounded them, but when his gaze found you again, he could have melted. You positively shone in comparison to all of them, something so authentically positive and genuine surrounding you.

“I was thinking that I might leave, actually”

“Without a dance?” Howzer raised a slightly teasing eyebrow.

You laughed gratuitously at the idea, “I don't want to dance with any of these philistines”

Howzer chuckled, taking a moment to peer inside once more. No one was looking out, no one was paying attention to anyone but themselves, not concerned with things going on outside the walls of the ornate room.

“Would you dance with me?”

You cocked your head a little, a dubiousness written into your furrowed brow, “you know how to dance?”

“More or less” he shrugged, placing his helmet down on the railing, following up by taking off his gloves and tucking them into his belt. He held his hand out with an inviting smile, “can I have this dance, m’lady?”

You chuckled lightly and tentatively took his outstretched hand, letting him pull you towards him, “it's ‘could I have this dance’, for next time”

“Next time?” Howzer asked with a raised eyebrow, his other hand coming to rest at your hip.

You tried to suppress a smirk as the pair of you began dancing to the medium tempo, “in case you find yourself dancing with another member of the Senate, of course”

“Of course” Howzer grinned, “though I can't imagine I will”

He brought your hand up and gently spun you around in time with the music, pulling you back towards him so you were almost chest to chest. Your eyes bore into his as his hand slid to the small of your back, gently brushing your skin. As the dance went on, his hand pressed further against the warmth of your skin, bringing your body closer to his. He wished that he owned any other outfit but his armour, so that he could really feel what it was like to have you pressed up against him, but he'd settle for a gloveless hand against your back for now.

There was something in your gaze, something troubled despite your smile. Howzer didn't know if he was diagnosing the problem correctly, but he spoke up anyway.

“What you did yesterday was really admirable” he mumbled, earning a sigh from you that made your whole body slump towards him, resting your forehead against his chestplate.

“I'm afraid of what's happening to this planet, to the galaxy”

Howzer nodded, his hand sliding up to gently rub what he hoped were comforting circles between your shoulder blades. You continued to let him lead you through the dance, moving your feet in tandem with his despite your collapsed posture.

“I know” he spoke quietly, “but… you can't give up”

Your head lifted from his chest, your eyes slightly wide and startlingly close to his. He felt as if he could see his own soul reflected back at him in that moment, and it startled him a little, as much as it was intoxicating.

“I feel like giving up” you told him, but he just shook his head.

“You can't. You might be the best chance that Ryloth has under the Empire” he replied, his arm wrapping further around you as he slowly let the dance draw you both from the light spilling through the glass door.

“but I can't do anything, as long as the Senator is here” you said desperately, your brows pinched and mouth twisted in a frown.

It was strange to see you so defeated. Howzer had only known you to be quietly confident and seemingly hopeful in a particularly composed way, but now you had been beaten down by the truth of the matter, and for whatever reason you were looking to him for help.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, “will he not go back to Coruscant eventually?”

Your eyes dropped for a moment, then found his again with slightly more conviction, “I suppose so, but—”

“No buts” Howzer interrupted with a growing smile, “just do what you can, right? isn't that what you told me?”

“Yeah” your lips curled up in an appreciative smile, “I can't believe you remember me saying that”

Howzer gave you a small frown, “why wouldn't I?”

“I don't know, I guess I'm used to people just ignoring what I say”

It was a disquieting thing to hear, and Howzer quickly realised it was probably one of the most vulnerable thing you had ever told him.

“Well they're fools” he said assuredly.

You huffed a small laugh as he spun you around once more, “If you say so”

“I mean it” he spoke seriously, pulling you back against him and holding you close by your waist, “I've never— no one ever gave me the time of day to… just talk, before you. No one saw fit to educate me about anything, or talk to me like a human being”

Your brow creased as he spoke, “I'm sorry”

Howzer laughed, a teasing grin plastered on his face, “That was supposed to be a compliment, not me looking for sympathy”

“Oh” you chuckled in a self-deprecating manner, the dance dying down to a light sway, “right, well… you're welcome I suppose. Though I hope you do know that what you just described is the bare minimum”

A scoff left his lips, “so that's the only reason you talk to me? Human decency?”

“Well, no. I—” you stuttered out, diverting your gaze, “like I said before, you're a good man”

Howzer just hummed in response, unable to help the way his smile almost split his face in half. Inside the walls of the mansion, the instrumentalists finished playing their song, a small round of applause following, and you stepped away with a particularly timid expression, as if the intimacy of the moment had finally caught up with you.

“Well, I think I'll be going now” you said softly as the band started up again.

Truthfully, Howzer didn’t want you to leave. Even if it wasn’t in such a troubling way as the previous times, he wasn’t going to watch you walk away from him again.

“Allow me escort you back to your quarters, ma’am” He suggested with a mock sincerity.

You gave him a hesitant and withering look, and his smile grew even more, “you should probably stay here, no?”

Howzer confidently shook his head, “I am tasked with protecting the people in this party. Should one wish to leave, it would only be proper to ensure they get home safely”

He watched the way your bottom lip caught between your teeth to bite back your smirk, your eyes narrowing a little as if to try and read his thoughts. It made his resolve crumble a little, your presence almost deriding him.

“I suppose that makes sense” you mumbled finally, and Howzer smiled in satisfaction.

“Lead the way ma'am” he gestured towards the set of steps that led back towards the front of the estate, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you started walking.

“I thought you agreed not to call me that” you muttered, false annoyance in your tone.

Howzer shrugged a little, “maybe I just want to”

He held out his hand to you once again at the top of the stairs, all four of them, and you scoffed while slipping your hand into his to let him assist in your descent. He knew he was pushing his luck, trying to be so affectionate with you after he had shunned you for doing the exact same thing only a few days prior, but he couldn't help himself.

“Thank you” you said quietly, taking back your hand to clasp both of them behind your back.

The pair of you made your way back up through the large courtyard of the Senator's mansion, stately trees lining your way and casting you into darkness. You settled into a comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the people inside the party dwindle into nothing as you made your way through the city.

The dark engulfed you both, the only light being that of the moon and the stars that were littered through the sky. A gentle breeze sent leaves scattering over the floor, tickling at Howzer’s skin and lightly ruffling his hair. He could smell your perfume as the breeze drifted it his way. It was sweet, understated and gentle but with a noticeable presence. It matched you perfectly in that way. He looked over from his place beside you, and couldn’t help but stare in awe.

In many ways, you were the antithesis to him, a reflection of everything he wished he could be. Much of it was given away in your footfalls; where his were the inelegant scuff of boots against the cold stone of the cobbled street, yours was the tapping of your delicate heels, sounding more akin to a steady drip of water into a lake. Where Howzer was all hard edges and military barbarism, at least in theory, you were made up of soft contours and political courtesy.

He was beneath, you were above. He was the soil, you were the sky. He was inferior, and you were fundamental. All that was true to the places you held in the galaxy, but when he stood next to you, he felt whole, as if your idiosyncrasies fit together to create a one picture, one he didn’t know he recognised until he had laid eyes on you for the first time. Although, as much as you were different, you held a similar space within your own lives, echoing each other’s values. You were both bound by duty, a duty which kept you both from seeking true happiness, and yet, watching you stroll through the moonlight felt like exactly that: happiness.

You halted outside the door to your dwelling, turning back towards him as you opened it up. You observed him for a moment, eyebrows twitching as if thinking something over.

“I'm going put the kettle on” you told him, leaving a lengthy gap to let the words hang in the air for a moment, “would you like to join me for some tea?”

Howzer was agreeing before you had barely got the words out, and you gestured for him to enter with a smirk that you failed to hide. The space was a lot more modest than he was expecting, but he realised then that he probably viewed you as being more important than those who organised your living arrangements. There was a kitchen to one side, a homey looking sofa on the opposite wall, a small dining area between them, and two doors off to the side which he could only presume were the bedroom and refresher. It was humble, especially as compared to the mansion you had just left.

Howzer watched as you pinched the fabric of your scarf between your fingers, pulling it off. The sheer fabric slid over your smooth skin like water over glass, and Howzer was positively mesmerised. It was such a simple action, but he was coming to understand that anything you did was a little more than appealing to him.

“Make yourself at home” you smiled at him as you glided over towards the kitchen to put the kettle on, leaning on the counter to take off your shoes.

For a moment he just watched you move around, almost desperate to reach out and feel your skin against his once more. He forced himself to look away, to try and do as you said and make himself comfortable in the space. He placed his helmet on the table, and noticed that the flimsibook he so often saw you with was open, your stylus laid in the centre of it.

He didn't mean to look, he knew that he shouldn't, that it was private, but when his eyes skimmed the page and he saw his own name, his heart stopped in his chest. He picked it up, unable to help himself, and ran his fingers across the page as he read from it. It was poetry. All this time, the writing that you had been so intently working on were poems, and it seemed that he was a recurring character.

Howzer was floored. He couldn't believe that such sweet words were written for him, someone made for such violence, and by someone like you no less. He turned page after page, and his name appeared a number of times, but upon reading further, even when he wasn't mentioned by name, it was obvious that it was him you were describing.

Instances from your time together, the day at the lake, descriptions of sitting opposite him under the whiptree, and as far as just passing by him. He noticed that they were dated, and as he flipped backwards through the pages, he found one dated under the day you arrived at the senate bureau.

eyes meet, a flicker of recognition,

birthed from nowhere, you’re unknown.

a quiet understanding, but no words,

a warmth that reaches to me.

It feels like a promise,

a vow to fulfil in time,

to make this notion true, not just a stolen glance from the nameless.

From the very beginning, you had felt exactly the same as him, recognising that pull that he had as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Howzer felt his breath go short, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as his blood ran hot through his veins. He looked over to you, leaned against the kitchen counter and tapping a rhythm against it as you waited for the kettle to boil. He called your name, and you looked over to him inquisitively, but your face instantly dropped as your eyes darted between the book and his face.

“I didn’t know you wrote poetry” he stated, the first think he could think to say.

“You weren’t supposed to” you said quickly, your embarrassment obvious as you strode over to him in a few steps and snatched the book from him, shoving it into a drawer when you made it back to your original position.

Howzer could see the deep blush that set in across your cheeks, and he gave you an apologetic look. He hadn’t meant to embarrass you, he only wanted to convey how much it meant to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, just—” he found himself at a loss for words, “it’s beautiful”

“It’s…” you glanced over to him with hesitation, shame still colouring your cheeks, “it’s private”

For a moment neither one of you moved, watching each other carefully to see if the other would go on. You shortly began to look flustered, your fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress and shifting on the spot.

Letting out a long breath, you hung your head, “I’m so sorry Captain”

Howzer’s eyebrows shot up, taking a step forward on instinct, “you’re sorry?”

“Maker, this is so mortifying” you covered your face with your hands, “I don’t even have the words to explain myself”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that assertion, “I don’t know about that, seems like you might have quite a few”

You groaned in embarrassment as your body curled in on itself more, drawing another small laugh from Howzer as he made his way over to you.

He tentatively wrapped his hands around you wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. You looked up at him with a bashful expression, struggling to maintain eye contact as he slipped your hands into his.

“I—” he began, not entirely sure of the direction he was going, “I wish I had any of the sort of talent with words that you have, so that I might be able to express my feelings more clearly, but..” he paused, seeing the timidity begin to recede in your eyes, “perhaps I could show you instead?”

His eyes remained trained on yours as he awaited your answer, one hand skimming over your waist and running the silky fabric of your dress through his fingers, the other ghosting over your arm as it made its way up to hold your jaw.

You stared back at him with wide eyes, “I thought— you said it— that we shouldn't”

Howzer had never known you to trip over your words in such a way, and a smirk wormed its way onto his face as he shrugged a little, “I changed my mind”

He could feel some of the tension drain from your body, your shoulders relaxing, and you stepped into his space so you were chest to chest, your nose almost touching his. Your eyes dropped to his lips, tilting your head upwards so they were only a hairbreadth from his own. He could feel your breath warm on his lips, and he had to fight to keep from shivering at the sensation. Eyes finding his again, he could see more confidence in your gaze, and it sent a certain thrill through him that was hard to ignore.

“Then prove it” you whispered, lips almost brushing his.

Howzer closed the space between you, lips meeting with ardency as his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close to him. He moved his lips against yours with intention, taking his time in the hopes that it would convey every unsaid notion of admiration. Your hands curled around the top of his chestplate, pulling him flush against you, and he gripped you tighter, the fabric of your dress bunching up at his touch.

“You look so good in my colour” he mumbled against your lips, sounding as drunk as he felt at the intoxicating taste of your lips.

“I hope so” you returned, “I wore it for you”

Howzer groaned as he instantly deepened the kiss, pressing you back into the kitchen counter, and he felt you smirk against him. His hands explored your body, finally allowing himself the pleasure of indulging in the feel of your skin.

He suddenly became overwhelmed by desire, desperate to be as close as possible after your admission. You had worn this excruciatingly tantalising dress just for him, and he wanted to be the one to take it off of you. One hand cupped the back of your head as his mouth devoured yours, exploring every inch of you he could reach, and the other trailed down your body to grip at your hip. You raised to your toes to push back against him, matching his fervour, your arms snaking around his neck to bring him closer.

In a swift motion, Howzer hooked his hands under your thighs, placing you on top of the counter behind you and standing between your thighs. You threaded your legs around his waist, pulling yourself into him and earning a breathy groan at the feel of you pressing into his now uncomfortably tight codpiece.

Howzer had never felt a desire as pure as this one. He'd had encounters of a similar nature with other people, of course, but never had he felt this aching within his chest, the need to be close, not only physically, but to be tethered together by your very souls.

Becoming impatient and overwhelmed by his own state of mind, Howzer’s hand ran down your leg and found the hem of your dress, which had ridden up a little by that point, and lifted it so he could slip beneath. His fingers danced along your skin, skimming your inner thigh as he made his way towards the apex in a swift motion.

A shaky breath passed your lips and fanned over his as his knuckles came into contact with your clothed sex. He teased you for a moment, ghosting over the fabric with featherlight touches, but a heavy sigh gave an indication that you were just as impatient as he was.

“No need to be so gentle, Captain. I told you, I'm not made of glass” your voice was thick with desire, breathy but confident.

“I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore” he pressed his forehead into yours to peer into your eyes as his first finger hooked into your underwear slowly.

“Maybe I want to” you whispered, and though initially a little stunned, his lips formed a particularly rakish grin at the implication. He took what you had said at face value and sped along the process by pushing your underwear to the side, his fingers sliding between your folds.

“Fuck” he breathed out slowly, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, “how are you so wet already?”

His voice was hoarse, genuine perplexity and pleasant surprise colouring his tone.

“Didn't you read my poetry?” you asked, a contented sigh passing your lips, “you look very good in this armour, Captain”

Howzer chuckled, and he heard your breath hitch as his fingers grazed your clit.

“So good you had to match, apparently” he breathed out, his lips against your ear and drawing a shudder from you.

He continued his teasing, every motion in response to the way you reacted to his touch. Dragging his teeth along your earlobe, he heard a whimper sound in your throat, and as you were about to reply to his previous comment, he sunk two of his fingers inside of you. Howzer could feel his knees almost give out at how easy it was to slip his fingers past your entrance, and your breath escaped you in a sharp and unsteady exhale.

“Fuck, so… good” you finally replied, struggling to get your words out as his fingers set a steady pace within you, watching every twitch that played on your features as you responded to his efforts.

Your face was twisted in pleasure, brows pinched and teeth digging into your bottom lip. It was as if you were an instrument, him the air, or the strings, that allowed you to sing. Your soft moans were the melody, the most beautiful one he had heard, and the fact that it was him pulling it from you only made it sound sweeter.

“You're right, mesh'la” he spoke against your lips, detaching the meaning you had intended from your previous words, “you're so good, taking my fingers so well”

A small whine left you, and Howzer attached his lips back to yours, swallowing the sound. His thumb brushed over your clit as he wound you up, and you let out a delighted moan into his mouth.

“Tell me how it feels, baby, tell me how good I make you feel” he rasped, the fingers of his free hand digging into the flesh of your thigh.

“It— fuck” you were interrupted as Howzer's fingers found a particularly deep spot within you, curling and hitting a place that made you unable to speak, “it feels so good, Captain”

“Yeah?” he asked, adding pressure to your clit so you could only nod in reply, “you like calling me that, huh?”

A small ‘yes’ slipped from your lips in a whisper, looking up into his eyes, and Howzer could see something shy swirling within them. He wasn't going to have that.

“Yes, what?” he challenged, and watched with pride as the timidity receded and a flicker of desire took its place.

“Yes, Captain”

Howzer smirked broadly, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he looked down at the positive alluring sight of you at his mercy.

“Good girl” he praised, and felt the way you clenched around him in response. He was quickly coming to understand exactly what it was your body wanted from him.

He felt you getting close to finishing, your chest heaving and breath short and uneven as your walls tightened around his pumping fingers, but before you could reach your peak, he pulled his fingers from you completely. A sharp whine slipped from your lips at the loss, but Howzer just gave you a teasing simper.

“Not yet, mesh'la. I'll let you know when you can come” he spoke lowly, nothing but pure lust dripping from his tongue.

He could tell his words were having an effect on you. You were breathless, looking up at him through your eyelashes, and the sight alone was enough to set his skin alight in an entirely new way, his cock throbbing beneath his armour. A hand found its place on your cheek, needing an affirmative before continuing.

“How's that sound? You think you can follow my orders?” he asked, his tone reverent despite the meaning behind the words.

“Yes sir” you breathed out, and Howzer couldn't deny the way the sentiment set his insides alive.

He kissed you deeply, taking a moment in the flurry of desire to see to the fact that he cared for you deeply, and he wanted you to know that. His fingers traced your jaw, winding their way behind you head in a soft brush of skin against skin. He kept his touch light as he drew a path up to one of your lekku, and gently brushed his knuckles over the sensitive area.

He felt a shiver ripple through you, and you drew away from him with a shaky breath. Your eyes were a little wide, and he worried that he'd pushed your boundaries, but then your fingers hooked into his belt and you yanked him towards you.

“How do I take this off?” you asked, fumbling with the clasp.

Howzer laughed, your actions so sudden that he couldn't help himself, “here, let me do it”

He shooed your hands away, unclipping his belt and then going about removing the rest of his armour as quickly as possible. You just sat atop the counter, one leg crossed over the other and watching him with a fascination. He caught your eyes, and a smirk broke out over his face.

There was an understanding between you, a sense of affinity and trust that had been there since the beginning. Howzer didn't believe in fate — his time in the war had only taught him the certainty of everything being up to chance and luck — but something about the way you looked at him, the way his eyes found yours and things made sense, it felt that it had been brewing for a long time, since before you had met.

Once Howzer was just down to his blacks, his armour scattered about the floor that surrounded him, he pulled the top from his body, and your hands were on him before he could continue. You pulled him towards you, tasting his lips again, and he melted into you, his hands running up your thighs.

Your hands travelled over his chest and took a path downwards, your fingers brushing against his muscle and the hair that peeked above his blacks before they wrapped around his hardened length. An unbidden groan left his lips at the action, grinding himself into your hold and gripping the flesh of your thighs as you palmed him through the material. He could feel himself crumbling under your attention already, and he couldn't wait a second longer. He needed to feel you around him.

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his blacks and tugged them down with his underwear, stepping out and catching the way you bit your lip at the sight of his cock springing free. He bunched your dress up around your hips and slid your underwear from your body with an urgency, placing himself between your legs once more and resting the blunt head of his cock at your entrance. Your breath stuttered at the sensation, and he looked up to meet your eyes once more.

You were so beautiful. He'd always known it, but a newfound appreciation of your beauty now washed over him like an icy tidal wave, waking him up and making him feel entirely more present and aware of what was happening. One of his hands lifted to caress your face, looking deeply into your eyes and feeling that connection, the tethering of souls that he desired.

“You're incredible” he breathed out, and your lips curled up into a genuine smile.

“I think you're pretty incredible too, since were being honest”

Howzer wasn't entirely sure how to respond to the compliment, but shortly a smug expression took over his face, “oh I know, you wouldn't write words like that otherwise”

You rolled your eyes, a huff leaving your lips, “cocky”

He dragged his tongue along his lips with a devilish grin, “you have no idea”

He sheathed into you, and heard a gasp get caught in your throat as he slowly filled you out. Your fingers gripped onto his shoulders as he bottomed out, and Howzer couldn't find it within himself to move. He pulled you close, your foreheads together and eyes closed as your bodies were flush with one another, his cock buried deep within you, basking in your warmth. He pulled out slowly, a careful procedure, and then sank back into you with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck” he choked out, running a soothing hand up your side, “you feel so good baby”

Howzer set a steady pace at first, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, but soon found himself speeding up, the sensation too intoxicating and your nails biting into his shoulder making his vision hazy even as he opened his eyes. The melody of your moans was more colourful, inflections and articulations that he hadn't heard before, and the sounds alone were driving him closer to the edge by the second.

His speed was punishing, driving into you and hitting deep inside with each thrust. His hands gripped your thighs to ground him, feeling almost drunk on the feel of you. He was mumbling acclamatory words against your lips, unable to concentrate enough to speak properly, and especially when your lips were on his neck. It made his head spin, more arousing than he realised, and he felt positively high. You were invading his senses like a drug, and he was so lost in the moment that he was only brought back by the feel of your walls clenching around him. Despite his body's wishes, he pulled out of you completely. You let out a whine in protest, and he ran a finger over your pouting bottom lip with a chuckle.

“Not yet, pretty girl”

He brought his fingers to your core again, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge. He watched you squirm, both satisfaction and frustration written into your expression, and your hands wrapped around the back of his neck and slid up, tangling in his hair as you guided his lips back to yours. You pulled gently, earning a groan from his throat that echoed in the space around you. Howzer returned the action, running his palm over the base of your lekku.

You whimpered against him, and pulled back fractionally to speak a desperate plea to let you finish. Instead of heeding your wishes, he took his fingers away from you, and a breath escaped you as your forehead came to rest on his chest. Your legs wrapped around his waist again, drawing him closer so his cock came into contact with your dripping core. He groaned deeply, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in you again.

“Where's your bedroom?” he mumbled out, and your head raised to look at him.

“Door on the right” you answered in a quick breath.

Howzer hooked his hands under your thighs and wasted no time in heading over towards the room. He smashed his hand into the door panel with an urgency, making you chuckle against his skin as you littered kisses up his neck and along his jaw. When he found the bed in the darkened room, he placed you down gently, laying you down beneath him. He took the opportunity to explore your body with his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses where your dress would allow, and nudging it aside when he wasn't satisfied with how little skin he could reach.

He then pulled back and tilted his head, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you, “don't you think you’re a little overdressed?”

Your lips lifted into their own smirk, “you think so?”

Howzer chucked darkly, his lips meeting the skin of your neck as he drew a path of kisses along the underside of your jaw. He paused for a moment, feeling you shudder at the feel of his hot breath against your ear.

“Be a good girl and take this off for me” he spoke lowly.

You pushed him away with a trembling breath, and he rolled off of you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you stood. You slipped the straps of your dress from your shoulders, and the silky material of the dress folded easily, sliding from your body and pooling at your feet in one graceful motion. Howzer’s mouth dropped open, his hand reaching for you and tracing his thumb along your hip bone as he took in the sight of you in a state of undress.

“Kriff cyare, look at you” his tone was nothing short of worshipping, adoration and infatuation laced into his tone.

One side of your lips quirked up at the compliment, and however much he hadn't really spoke his mind, he knew you understood. He gripped your waist and pulled you back towards him, tugging you down and placing his body back on top of yours, caging your head between his splayed palms. He shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the sight of you beneath him and taking your hand in his, interlacing your fingers with his and pressing it into the bed.

“You ready pretty girl?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw.

You nodded, your breath leaving you as he positioned himself at your entrance once more.

“Hm, doesn't seem like you really want it” He spoke coyly, slipping his length through your slick folds as he dragged his teeth along your collarbone.

You were whimpering, squirming beneath him, and he knew he had you absolutely wrapped around his finger in that moment. It was exhilarating, the idea that ordinarily you were a quiet and poised government official, strong in your resolve and far above him in station, but now you were beneath him, begging for more, hanging on his every word and under his command.

“Please, Captain” you breathed out, your tone so lustful that Howzer could have crumbled.

“Please what? You have to tell me what you need mesh'la” he rumbled against your skin, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock.

“Please, I— I need you to fuck me Captain”

You sounded desperate, and it drew a low groan from Howzer's throat, “that's more like it”

His forehead met yours as he slid inside of you again, filling you completely in one thrust, the dulcet sound of your moans mixing filling the dark room. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hand gripping his tighter as he pounded into you. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was actually going to last much longer with the feel of your walls clenching around him, but he was determined to have you hanging on until the very last second.

The feeling that it gave him, the intimacy of it more than anything, was euphoric. He had never felt so close to another person, so understood and frankly loved, whether or not it was the case. The two of you were connected in a way that he couldn't comprehend, but could only feel, an energy that bound you together and created a space where only the two of you existed.

He felt your walls tightening around him once more, and kept his pace up as he spoke, “ah, ah. You don't come until I tell you to, remember?”

“Yes, Captain” you whimpered, your eyes screwing shut.

“Hey” he said more gently, slowing down as his hand caressed your face, “look at me.” Your eyes opened once more, and a smile broke out on his face naturally, “there you are pretty girl”

He bumped his forehead with yours as he resumed his punishing pace, his eyes burning into yours and yours burning in kind. He could tell you were only just hanging on, doing everything in your willpower to not come undone until he let you, and he just felt grateful for the trust you had in him to allow him to have such a power over you.

“You take me so well baby” he whispered, his voice reverent and gentle as he buried his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, “made for this cock”

His breath stuttered as he felt himself getting close, not able to hold on for much longer, and your whispered pleas told him that you were right there with him.

“where do you want me?” he asked, his voice strained.

You were breathless as you replied, almost relieved, “inside”

Howzer groaned deeply, stilling inside you and trying to control his body desperately, “I'm serious cyar'ika”

“I'm protected” you assured him, “please Captain, I want to feel you”

That was all Howzer needed to resume his shattering pace, his hands holding your hips firmly in place as he pounded into you and finally spoke the words, “come for me, baby”

You were easily pushed over the edge, and Howzer rode you through your high until he came undone with a harsh grunt, spilling his seed deep within you. It took more than a moment to come down from the pure bliss of fulfilment, and when he did, his eyes opened to look down at you, still panting, and you were doing the same. He let out a breathy laugh, grinning at your spent expression.

He slipped out of you, sitting back on his heels to catch his breath, and watched the way his seed spilled out of you, making his teeth sink into his lip. His eyes found yours once more as his hand gently kneaded your thigh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What?” you asked, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“You're just—” he breathed out deeply, “you're so beautiful”

You grinned at him, sitting up on your elbows, “thank you”

You looked confident in saying it, and his heart sang with affection. He pressed a kiss to your knee and stood from the bed, “don't move, I'll be right back”

He left the room and entered what he rightly assumed was the refresher, and returned with tissue in hand. He helped you clean up before crawling over you again, cupping your face and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

You hummed contentedly, your own hand caressing his face, outlining the scar on his cheek, “will you stay the night?”

You looked so hopeful in asking, but Howzer sighed, “I can't be caught leaving here tomorrow”

You chewed on your cheek, looking away for a moment, “just for a little while then?”

He smiled, “alright, a little while”

He settled beside you and pulled your body flush against his, placing a kiss to your forehead as he held you close. Your face was buried in his chest, breath tickling his skin, and he couldn't think of a time when he had ever felt as contented as this.

“Howzer?” you called softly.

“Hm?” he rumbled, his arms tightening around you.

“What— um…” you stammered, and he pulled back to look at you.

“What's up?”

You didn't look nervous perse, he didn't think you capable of it, but you looked a little apprehensive to say whatever it is that was hanging onto your tongue.

“What does this mean?” you asked quietly.

Howzer smiled, his fingers brushing against your cheekbone as he looked down at you adoringly, “it means whatever you want it to”

You tilted your head at him a little, “well what do you want?”

“I only want whatever you'll give me, however much that is”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you lifted your head to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, “I just want you… in every way I can”

“Then I'm yours” he smiled in return, “in every way”

It was first light when Howzer awoke the next day, the sun only just breaching the horizon and casting a blue glow through the curtains of your bedroom. He was pressed up against your body, curled around you and keeping you sealed in a warm embrace with his arms.

He wished that you could stay like this forever, the both of you comfortable and locked together, hidden from the unblinking eye of the outside world and the realities that weighed on your minds at any other moment. Here, there was no Empire, no politics, no power — just peace.

Howzer nuzzled into your neck for just a second, pressing a lingering kiss to your throat, before he pulled away from you completely, leaving the room to get dressed into his previously discarded armour. If he had taken another moment he was sure he'd never leave.

He dressed quickly, slipping his blacks on and putting his armour back in it's place. As he adjusted his pauldron, he looked back towards your bedroom door. He didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but he also didn't want to wake you. You would be getting up soon enough, but he wouldn't deny you even a few minutes of rest with the state of things in the senate bureau, so instead he opted to write a note.

He found your flimsibook and a stylus in the drawer where you had stuffed them the night before and opened to the next blank page, next to the end of a very long poem that was seemingly about justice, based on the heavy use of the word. He wasn't going to pry by reading it once more, so he just wrote a quick note down, to let you know that he'd make some caf for you. His language wasn't as flowery as yours, and he almost felt embarrassed for it, but he wasn't exactly trying to be very poetic. He set a batch of caf on to brew, then slipped out the front door as quietly as possible.

The air outside was fresh, the scent of morning dew and the ever-present lavender invading his senses, though the distinct lack of people around was strange. Howzer was never usually out of the barracks this early so it was unusual to be able to hear the birdsong, which was usually covered by the sound of people talking, milling about, on their way to work. It was nice, perhaps he'd make an effort to get up earlier in the future.

As he made his way towards the square, he was ambushed by a pair of troopers, exactly the people he was trying to avoid in not going back to the barracks.

“Where have you been?” Teddy asked him with a taunting edge, knocking his elbow as the two of them walked either side of him.

“Yeah, you weren't in your bed last night” Oscar smirked, “which begs the question: whose bed were you in?”

Howzer rolled his eyes, playing off their questions, “I was stationed at the Senator's estate last night”

Oscar let out a loud laugh, “as if you slept in the Senator's mansion”

“We're not that stupid, sir” Teddy gave him a knowing look, “well, maybe Oscar is, but come on, wh—”

“Hey!” Oscar reached around his Captain to push Teddy away.

“You two are such children” Howzer shook his head disapprovingly, though a small smile still managed to worm its way onto his face.

“He started it” Oscar grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Did not” Teddy grinned, rubbing his arm.

“Anyway” Oscar said pointedly, “you didn't answer the question. who'd you go home with, Captain?”

Howzer scoffed, “I’m not discussing this with you loudmouths”

“Don't worry sir, I'll cover his ears while you tell me” Teddy suggested, causing Howzer to chuckle.

“Don't you two have somewhere to be?” He asked as they came to a stop in the town square, an eyebrow raised and looking between them.

“Ugh” Oscar huffed, rolling his eyes, “I suppose”

“Best be off then” Howzer nudged him forwards.

Oscar was mumbling under his breath as he walked away, and Teddy leaned toward Howzer fractionally, his tone amused, “Don't worry sir, I'll keep him in line”

“I know you will, Teddy” Howzer chuckled fondly as he stepped away, “I'll see you later”

Teddy gave his Captain a quick salute and ran after his brother, throwing an arm around his shoulders on approach. Howzer turned away with an affectionate smile and the threat of a scoff leaving his mouth at their antics.

Howzer had barely been keeping it together all morning, and he had no idea how you could act so nonchalantly, as if nothing had transpired between the two of you. It wasn't discussed that your escapades from the previous night would be kept a secret, but it was assumed. That didn't stop the way the edges of Howzer's lips curled into a smirk upon seeing you enter the room.

Today you were dressed in a corseted robe, paisley designs adorning the silky sleeves and collar, and it was noticeably a light blue-green colour; teal. Howzer shook his head at you and had to bite back a smirk, he could tell you knew what you were doing. You had greeted him with a simple ‘Good morning, Captain’ but it had made his blood run hot with memories of the previous night filling his vision. He had never been so thankful for his codpiece.

He watched as you and Cham discussed something in his office, your voices too far away to hear what. He caught little words here and there, but nothing that really indicated the subject matter. It made him laugh, really. You would both probably discuss it with him later, so there was no need for the hushed tone you employed, but neither of you knew that. Perhaps you did, but your sabacc face was too good that he couldn't tell.

The arrival of a new Imperial officer, a vice admiral, had been the talk of the day. The man was so self-important and petulant that Howzer was sure he was making up for something, though in truth, he hadn't been paying all that much attention to him. He hadn't been paying attention to anyone but you.

You had met his gaze only once since first saying good morning, and it was driving him crazy, particularly as the one time he did catch your eyes, you had sent him a maddeningly sultry smirk. Howzer felt like all the self control he had left within him was hanging by a thread, ready to snap.

When the time was right, he pulled the thread, and let it break, finally getting you alone and dragging you behind a non-descript door that ended up being some kind of supply closet. He instantly pushed you up against the wall, attaching his lips to yours with a desperation that made you smirk against his mouth.

“Someone's eager” you chuckled as his lips left yours for a moment.

“Shut up” he mumbled, kissing you deeply in between his words, “what do you expect when you walk in wearing this?”

You smirked broadly, “I thought you'd like it”

He suppressed a groan as your teeth dragged along his lip, “you're trouble”

Howzer's hands roved over your body, mapping the shape of it and burning it into his brain. He ran his tongue over the seem of your lips, begging for entrance that you allowed in an instant, and the soft sigh that left you made his knees weak.

A shuffling of feet outside the door made the both of you freeze, eyes opening and locking as you listened intently. It sounded as if there was a group of people passing by, their discussion so benign it could be about anything.

You smiled up at Howzer as their voices receded, and he returned the gesture, his arms snaking around your waist and holding you tightly.

“Thank you for the caf” you whispered.

“It was no problem” he whispered back, a hand cupping your cheek.

“But next time, wake me up” you said, somehow ever quieter.

The promise of a next time made his smile widen, and he knew now that he wouldn't deny you anything you asked for. He bit his lip as you looked up at him through your lashes, your gentle expression making his chest feel tight with admiration.

“Alright” he murmured.

He dipped his head and nudged your chin up with his nose to latch his lips onto your neck, and that wonderful sighing noise left your parted lips once more.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here” you insisted, your voice breathy and full of a certain neediness despite your words.

“Tell me to stop” Howzer spoke, his warm breath over your collarbone, and you moaned softly, prompting him to repeat himself, “go on, tell me to stop”

Your breath was short, but you found your voice enough to speak, “no sir”

“That's what I thought”

Howzer placed an armoured leg between your thighs to pin you to the wall, and a less gentle moan slipped from your lips.

“Shhh” he cooed, shifting his leg further up just to tease you, and you struggled to suppress another noise, “do you think you can stay quiet for me, baby?”

You stifled a noise as he bit into your neck, giving him his answer.

“Good girl”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak @mae-lou-ron @burningnerdchild @orangez3st

[oilith]

Don't laugh at people or mock people who are "childish". People are allowed to like things that are considered "childish". Toys, kids cartoons, anything like that can be a valuable source of comfort for the people who like them. It's important to have things in life that make you happy, and without them it gets miserable. Wether that thing is stuffed animals or cooking or writing lyrics, what's important is that others don't ridicule and belittle them for it. There shouldn't be such judgement for the things that make people happy.

[shartfinz]

idk man

[hatepotion]

chappell study

[invizz]

close ups below! 💚💛

still surprised this took me a few days?? (as in, thats long for me personally) but i love the pookies. and the accidental angst lmao

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[rysttle]

Googling for specific features in a person's face/body for art reference and it's all 'how to get rid of it' tips and im here like :((((((((

[stardust-falling]

fandom psa; there is nothing whatsoever that is inherently "problematic" about shipping characters who are "found family."

Adoption is not found family. A blended family is not found family. A found family or chosen family is a group which, through circumstances or simply mutual affection, hold their relationship to one another with equal care and importance as family members ought to. It's not the same type of relationship.

It's not incest. It's not even pseudo-incest unless you want it to be. I personally don't care what people ship, but I'm absolutely tired of people misusing the term "found family" to just recreate the idea of a nuclear family and force those roles onto the entirety of a fandom. Sure, maybe characters who are found family may view themselves like siblings, or like a parent and child or aunt and niece, but they might also just see each other as friends-- and guess what? romantic partners too! That's technically the most widely-accepted form of found family/chosen family there is!

The whole point of found family/chosen family is to have the importance of "family" on relationships that lie outside the commonly-understood bounds of that relationship. Not to recreate the "mommy-daddy-daughter-son" dynamic with unrelated characters and use that headcanon or fanon dynamic to enforce your own morality or preferences on other fans.

[snikt111]

hi hi hi hi I found out about Hal Jordan TODAY and am going so autistic over him it’s insane can you please give me a rundown on what his deal is I think you’re the Tumblr Green Lantern guy

omg hi, insane compliment btw, tysm! i'm glad to give you a rundown!! also definitely check out @katmaatui for more hal info, red is SUPER knowledgable abt him. @rillette, @catboyollie, @halcarols, @starsapphire and @yellowcorps (along with so many others that i cant think to tag off the top of my head) have some great hal takes too! (edited the post just to tag more ppl)

apologies if this is a bit rushed/messy, i'm doing this while i smelt stone in minecraft LMAO

that being said... i think this will be a long one, so more below the cut :3

(cw for light mentions of pedophilia, abuse, canon typical violence)

okay, so hal jordan is the first human green lantern of the GREEN LANTERN CORPS. it's important to note that there was technically a human green lantern before him (alan scott, originally from earth two/the justice society, but integrated into main DC canon after crisis), but his power comes from a different source- which is a whole different ballpark that would take ages to explain, lol, so i'll move on from that.

hal was originally introduced in a showcase issue in 1959, but ended up getting a solo run in the mid 60s because of his showcase issues doing well. he's been a test pilot, middle brother, compassionate, rule follower (although being surprisingly liberal for the time) with an interesting relationship with star sapphire carol ferris since those first appearances. for the first 20 odd years of his appearances we had no information on his parents, but we got a lot from other family members, such as uncle titus, cousin hal jr (aka airwave), younger brother jim jordan and older brother jack jordan. through the 60s and 70s those members of his family were developed along with him; with the audience learning that jim's wife sue thought jim was green lantern, rather than hal, and hal himself training his cousin, hal jr.

the most known version of how hal got the ring in the first place is probably based off of geoff john's rewrite in the mid 00s, reiterating the original story of abin sur crashing onto earth and dying, leaving hal with his ring to be trained by sinestro and the rest of the glc, while also changing miniscule details that had been developed in emerald dawn 1 & 2 (which was released in the 90s, more on that later). the main premise of abin sur's crash has stayed the same, but the story around hal's current life, job, family and stability keep changing. for instance, the original comic with abin sur in showcase only showed hal getting the ring, the guardians choosing him. the first rewrite i can think of was emerald dawn volume 1, published in 1989 and continued in emerald dawn v2 (1991). here we get the classic hal watches his father die in a plane crash with carol ferris beside him as a pre adolescent, and some of the biggest implications of the mistreatment from his father. we also get introduced to hal, despite his stick to the rules, straight edge attitude, making some serious mistakes and putting people in danger and even death- with the implication of alcohol abuse. the audience HAS known hal used to be in the air force since sometime in the late 60s or early 70s (sorry, i don't remember the exact issue!), but emerald dawn shows us that hal's moved on from the air force and into test piloting, and that his mother keeps having to bail him out for making mistakes. emerald dawn vol 1 shows the abin sur moment, followed by fights that cost hal's friends life, and is followed up by sinestro training hal in emerald dawn vol 2, where we get to see the iconic scenes of hal finding out about sinestro and his... dictatorship.

along with that; how the guardians and rings are treated and hal and the glc's perception of them is vastly changed over time. in the early days of gl in the 60s, the guardians were really never to be seen. hal was repeatedly summoned to them and then had his memory almost fully wiped- only leaving a vague notion of his orders. the guardian's called hal to them at seemingly the worst times, ending up with him almost getting injured, getting in trouble at work, and even ending up jobless and homeless. the chaos of being a green lantern has been around the WHOLE time, but originally, the green lanterns didnt really... fight it. the guardian's were their masters (and even father figures, to hal) and not to be questioned. the rings in the 60s were also much more powerful, despite the yellow weakness (the yellow weakness is the notion that from about the 60s to the mid 90s the green lantern rings were completely unable to be used against anything yellow). time travel, phasing, teleporting, etc were all very viable and common things- as well as forceful shapeshifting, invisibility, mind control, mind reading, etc etc. these days, writers have dampened these powers down to mostly shooting light and constructs.

okay, it's parallax time. the emerald twilight arc from the mid 90s wasn't an arc that was as thoroughly planned out over a long period of time as it probably should have been. a lot of fans at the time (and even now) hated what happened there, and claimed it ruined hal's character entirely. i can understand why! but, at it's core, the parallax arc is a story about a broken man pushed to the limit, fully grieving his home and family (originally, he lost his brother jim in the destruction of coast city, along with a lot of other family members) and being goddamn fed up with how his "masters" treated him and the rest of the corps. the so called "perfect lantern" (no, he wasn't that much of a rebel, despite what johns wants you to think) snapped and essentially tried to gain as much power as he could to bring back coast city. when the guardians stripped him of his powers so he couldn't, hal became enraged and took down every lantern in his path, just to get to the guardians and that power. long story short, he kills the guardians and absorbs all the energy from the central power battery on oa, becoming parallax- essentially a god. this marks the start of zero hour, an event made by dc to restructure and reset; giving the comics a new generation of heroes. hal destroys the world and remakes it, but is ultimately taken down by kyle rayner, the new green lantern, with the help of the jla, jsa and associates. there are a few more run ins with parallax after this, before kyle convinces parallax/hal that he can make up for all of this by reigniting the sun after it went out- aka killing himself. hal does it, is stuck in limbo for awhile and then becomes the spectre to continue to make up for the horrible things he did as parallax. the spectre is the spirit of god's wrath and vengeance, a weapon used to drag sinners to their very own, self made hells, and scare the shit out of people. the spectre, from it's very first appearance, is a ghost like spirit that takes on a host, and is primarily described using christian terms and is used in a very... christian ideology. HOWEVER, the spectre 2001 confirms that hal is jewish (jewish mom, catholic dad) and that belief system, plus his personality as a whole, literally makes him change the spirit of vengeance into the spirit of redemption, for at least as long as they are bonded. the whole parallax to spectre arc is about grief, pain, cycles of abuse and terror, redemption and guilt. it is NOT about a fear bug that possess hal. (im so serious though, the spectre 2001 is one of the best comics ive ever read. amazing. changed my world view) but... geoff johns changed all of it, decanonized the spectre, and ruined the legacy of parallax and hal's growth as a person by releasing green lantern: rebirth in 2004/2005. this retcons hal's breakdown and journey through grief into him BEING POSSESSED BY AN ENTITY CONTROLLED BY SINESTRO THAT FULLY CHANGES PREVIOUS GREEN LANTERN CANON AND IMPLICATIONS. also, fucks up the importance of kyle becoming ion, but whatever. geoff johns writes hal (and even more so, carol) so very wrong, and change their stories so vastly in ways that go against the stories very meanings.

SIGH.

now... time to get started on some rougher stuff. hal jordan misconceptions. i'm saving that arc for last.

- hal jordan wasn't much of a rule breaker or rebel until the 70s/80s, where he BEGAN (very slowly, mind you) to be radicalized by oliver queen during denny o'neil's green lantern/green arrow. hal was painted as more of a conservative during this period (which, admittedly, kind of goes against previous canon... he's always been relatively central to liberal, not to any extremes like ollie though, lol) but gets more and more understanding of how power structures work and how lower classes are mistreated during this time- which ends up opening his eyes a bit to how shitty the guardians are. (this is helped by the guardians literally just. leaving. the green lanterns and kind of disbanding them so they can go fuck the zamarons, lmao). geoff johns tried to change this narrative into making hal a very... maverick-from-top-gun type of character, who punched his way out of the military (when, in reality, the original story during emerald knights in the late 90s was that hal had been framed for stealing a jet and was dishonorably discharged, which he took the punishment for because he knew someone had to) and hits on women constantly and gets ladies and allat (which, funnily enough hal was awful at getting carol to like him for a long time, since carol fell for green lantern rather than hal. not to mention the awkwardness of carol's proposals or hal's many, many failed relationships). hal has always been insecure and lowkey boyfailure, he is NOT a top gun maverick tom cruise sorta guy! fuck you jeremy adams!

- hes not that much of an idiot asshole. hal can be a real dick, he's had that going for him since the beginning, but he isn't what you read in batfam fics. he's not stupid and shouldn't be the laughingstock of the justice league. i assume this idea started from the obsession with batfam and the fact that the jla has quite the history of ignoring hal and his issues (as well as. all of their issues. theyre not so great at work life balance), but it's gone too far. hal isn't making fun of the robins and pissing bruce off bc of that. hal isnt fooling around on the job 24/7 (he takes being a gl and pilot VERY seriously, although he does enjoy some danger and high stakes) or slacking off to get girls. again. not top gun maverick.

- hal has not been a creep since the beginnings. hal was not weird with carol in the 60s. things were weird between them, yeah, but that's based off circumstance and the craziness of star sapphire and green lantern. he was NOT being horribly sleazy! i hate that i even need to say this, but i see this take too much not to

- going off of what was said above, lets discuss the arisia arc. if you want to be a real hal fan, this is unfortunately something you need to know about. in action comics, after crisis and the guardians left to go fuck the zamarons, most of the green lanterns fell apart and seperated. a small group went to earth- led by hal and consisting of hal, john stewart, katma tui, kilowog, salaakk, ch'p and arisia rrab. (also sometimes guy gardner, but that's complicated) previously to this arc, hal treated 14 year old arisia like a beloved little sister, welcoming her and leading her into the corps just like everyone else. things started to change once the timeline gets closer and closer to crisis, where arisia starts showing that she has a crush on hal (who is roughly 30s at this point). any advances made by arisia are shut down by hal at the beginning, because she's a child. now, it's unfortunately a common thing to just call hal a "pedophile" because of what happens in this arc- but it really isn't that simple. still weird and icky, but definitely not to the degree of which some fans like to act like it is- esp to attack hal fans for, which is... an odd choice regarding how many fucked up things every character (esp male characters) did back in the day. arisia ends up using her power ring to artifically age herself up, making her body AND MIND into that of a young adult (the comic makes this very clear). once this happens... hal stops rejecting her. they get together, they kiss. the only person in the group of green latnerns who actually has an issue with it is john (salaakk is meh about it, but he just doesn't like human-esque romance no matter what), and katma even directly encourages their relationship. kilowog ends up crushing on arisia as well, and guy gardner hits on her repeatedly throughout the whole period. eventually, hal and arisia break up, but this legacy (thank so much englehart, for wrtiting this. /sarc) is a big controversy among the comics crowd. "is hal jordan a predator?" personally, and i know a lot of friends/mutuals/other gl fans choose to erase the arisia arc entirely (versus how canon ended up retconning it to be 14 earth years is equal to that of an adult and she didn't really get super ages up, or whatever) and go with the familial relationship between hal and her. that's my preferred version! i know red (@katmaatui) has explored that version as well as an alternate version where the arisia arc did happen, and how it affects arisia in particular, which is really depressing but super interesting. anyway, it's complicated and weird and nuanced, but that whole occurence doesn't mean hal's a bad character or person (cause yk. retcons) and it's certainly not bad to like his character. (definitely ignore any guy gardner fans who try to bitch about this arc. cough cough. guy was ALSO into her and hit on her repeatedly. smfh) most people who bring this up to demonize fans didn't even read the arc, and don't know the nuance or the other weird shit that happens in it. (hal is not a horse, sigh)

OVERALL NOTES!

hal jordan is a super complicated character with an extensive history spanning from the 60s to his worse written appearances in modern age. it's okay to like any version of the character, but it is important to note the changes that have been made, the storylines butchered and lost, and more. he has quite the legacy, and he's particularly interesting as from a moral standpoint. hal's a real sweetie though, when it gets down to it! he's neurodivergent coded (imo at least.. his dad very much gets onto him for being disrtracted, hes kinda shit at social interaction (and then amazing at it the other half of the time) etc etc. "spacecase") and his dad is an abusive asshole, who he desperately doesnt want to be like but thinks he NEEDS to be like!

[unordinary-diary]

Seraphina and Arlo: The Brainwashing of High Tiers

Exposition:

— Remi, Episode 50.

There is a heavy implication that Seraphina and Arlo were raised in much the same way. The pressure on Seraphina comes from her parents, so I’ll extrapolate that the same goes for Arlo. This raises the question: how do the authorities create such a strong societal pressure on such a small percentage of the population? Most high tiers will probably not know any other high tiers besides their parents. Take Wellston Private High School for example: it’s the most prestigious private school around, and canonically has the “highest concentration of high tiers in the region”. There are six high tiers in Wellston. Apply this to god tiers specifically, and there are only three. Not to mention that this current group of students is uniquely strong, even for Wellston. In Rei’s senior year, he was the strongest at 5.8 max.

So much of this brainwashing relies on the parents to do all of the work, and it only takes one or two people to break the cycle. So how are the authorities creating this immense pressure? One tactic could be by isolating high tiers. There is a very widespread concept that one shouldn’t associate with those outside their level range. A caste system like this that affects everyone is much easier to create and maintain than an expectation for a small group, and it also means that high tiers are only being influenced by those who are also high level. This creates an echo chamber. I’ve researched cults and how they brainwash victims, and the first step in the process is isolating them in exactly this way.

But, if there are so few high tiers, how the hell are they supposed be isolated from other groups? The answer is that high tiers are just isolated in general. Take a look at Arlo: his only friend is Remi, and even her, he keeps at an arm’s length. Arlo is only close with Remi in the first place because he was close with Rei, who, at the time of meeting Arlo, was presumably close in level with him. [EDIT: I forgot about Holden, which I think says a lot about his relevance. He is kept at more than an arm’s length and doesn’t seem to have any actual influence on Arlo, let alone a deep relationship. He is also not presented as an equal.] Take a look at Seraphina: before meeting John, she didn’t seem to have any friends other than possibly Arlo. Seraphina and Arlo pre-John seemed to have had more of a professional relationship, and while they were not close in level, Arlo did fit the bill of being a fellow god tier, and strong enough to also be brainwashed.

Now let’s look at Remi. In episode 60, Cecile says to Remi: “And yet here you are... Always hanging around those two monkeys, Blyke and Isen. Letting them treat you as an equal even though you’re in a completely different league.” This struck me as odd because, aside from Cecile herself, the Wellston students closest in level to Remi were Arlo, Blyke, and Isen. And who is she friends with? She actually was doing a pretty good job at following that social convention, unless Cecile wanted to be friends with Remi, which she clearly didn’t. But... her friends were still not close enough to her level. Was she supposed to just not have friends at all? The answer seems to be a resounding yes. Can you think of any genuine friends that Cecile has either?

Friendship simply isn’t considered a necessity for high tiers.

But... why is it that Arlo and Seraphina were brainwashed differently? Creating a societal norm for an isolated group of people is one thing, because those people’s mindsets feed into each other. Putting pressure on individual families to keep them in line, but doing it all in different ways? That would be near impossible. My theory is that Seraphina recieved the typical high tier brainwashing, and that Arlo was raised differently because he was being groomed to work for the authorities. Seraphina didn’t have a set career path planned out for her, but if she’s trying to be “perfect” by the standards of those controlling her, she’s bound to end up going in a direction that pleases them. Arlo on the other hand was specifically planned to become an authority figure. That’s why his brainwashing is so centered on leadership. Also, growing up with direct contact to the authorities makes it more possible for them to customize his brainwashing in this way.

But does all of this apply to high tiers in general, or is it specific to god tiers? Let’s take a look at the high tiers in Wellston. We have Seraphina, John, Arlo, Terrence, Remi, Cecile, and Blyke. John is a unique circumstance because he wasn’t raised by high tiers, so we’ll cross him off the list. Terrence was also unique, so we can cross him off as well. Remi was different from the norm as well. Why is that? Well, Remi actually wasn’t raised by high tiers either. Rei said on screen that both of his parents were elites. We can cross Remi off. Blyke doesn’t fit the bill either, but that’s easy to explain. He was an elite for a large part of the story, and he shot up rather quickly. We don’t know much of his family, but he probably wasn’t expected to be a high tier at all, and was raised as an elite. (All of this also serves to emphasize how much of this brainwashing comes from a person’s parents.) That leaves only Seraphina, Arlo, and Cecile to look at.

Cecile does seem to have high tier brainwashing, but it’s not nearly as intense as with Seraphina and Arlo. She doesn’t seem “obsessive”, and she wasn’t one of the examples Remi mentioned in chapter 50. It’s clear that high tiers are brainwashed in general, but god tiers are kept on a much shorter leash. This makes sense, obviously, because keeping a population in control like that is less necessary the lower the level. However, it’s also a chicken an egg situation: god tiers are both more important to keep in control, and also easier to keep in control. It’s important to note just how many exceptions we had to cross off. People like Remi and Blyke aren’t actually that unusual— a lower leveled high tier is much more likely to have non-high tier parents, or to have not always been a high tier themselves, or just in general, to have way more day-to-day interaction with non-high tiers. The brainwashing gets more and more diffused the lower down the ladder you go.

[fallen-mario-bros-au]

Aight just a warning I'm pretty new to Tumblr and I'm DEFINITELY new to making AUs so I'm pretty nervous to post anything here but I figured I'd just rip the band-aid off.

FIRST POST HYPE!! :D

Anyways I love Mario and I love Undertale and I NEEDED TO COMBINE THEM LEGALLY so I decided to make an au about it! Dunno if I'm actually going to do anything serious with this, I mostly just want to imagine cute shenanigans with my favorite characters and whatnot, but who knows? Maybe I'll actually try to give this a proper plot

So here's the basic info:

- Mario and Luigi, in the midst of trying to chase down Bowser, who has just kidnapped the princess again, somehow wind up far away from the Mushroom Kingdom and on Mt. Ebott. Where, of course, they fall into the underground.

- All the monsters are pretty much their canon counterparts (at least, my best interpretation of them 💀)

- Mario ends up discovering he has the power to reset/load/save/etc, but Luigi does not. This is because Mario has the most determination to get out of here and save the princess

- Toriel isn't quite as overprotective of them as she would be if they were a literal child like Frisk, but she is still very motherly towards them because it's just kinda who she is. She would probably be concerned about them potentially attacking the monsters so she might make them promise not to hurt anyone. I still don't think she would want them to leave because Asgore would take their souls

- Honestly mostly this is just an excuse for the Mario Bros and the Skelebros to hang out XD

- the thing that is really interesting is that Mario and Luigi are not 1, but 2 humans, which means only one of their souls would be needed to break the barrier. This ends up becoming a real issue but I could see it being resolved in a few ways.

1. one of the bros self sacrifices so the underground goes free (much to the dismay of the other, and also my heart would break haha)

2. They decide to just stay in the underground instead of going home (but they would be pretty sad about it because oh no their kingdom is still in danger

3. ??? IDK tbh

- Since Mario can load saves, he's just constantly in this angsty cycle of trying to keep his bro from getting killed off ;;

- Not sure if Mario could keep the resets secret for long since Flowey would taunt them about it, but he definitely would be pretty closed off about it, especially to Luigi. He does NOT want Luigi to know about the horrible things he's seen

-ofc cut to Luigi being confused as heck as to why Mario seems to already know what's going to happen.

- they have cute sweaters because I said so

- not sure how omega fight would work, but either way Mario would have to fight to save both of them (probably all by himself :c)

- I want them to eventually do true pacifist but IDK how it would work so I'm not gonna think about it too hard rn

- Mario and Undyne having a friendly rivalry about who's the most heroic

- sans trying to convince them they could just stay in the underground and they're like "no we have to save the tiny mushroom people" and he's like "ur just like my bro fr"

- monster speculation about the purpose of mustaches

- It would be kinda funny if they had the firebrand and thunderhand since... Like... Humans aren't supposed to be able to do magic

- "are you sure you're humans? You're so small"

- *confused Italian noises*

Also here's some assorted doodles (I know the quality sucks 😭)

[autism-swagger]

This is probably only important to me, but I'm gonna be honest I really think alternate timeline Powder also has schizophrenia, just like Jinx does.

Obviously there's no concrete evidence of this, but not only does Powder have a doll of Vi that she talks to, just like Jinx has (or had I guess) dolls of Mylo and Claggor, it's also implied that Powder's hallucinations started at a very early age, before she was Jinx. The first hallucination we see in the entire show is during the bridge scene. There's a brief scribble of an angry face that appears over an enforcer's mask.

The "monsters" that Vi protected Powder from might've very well been her hallucinations, and no one realized it was anything more than childhood fears.

So if her schizophrenia manifested before she was even Jinx, and she still went through an extreme trauma (even if it's not the same one Jinx does), there's no reason why Powder wouldn't be schizophrenic as well. It's just that she's in a much healthier environment and has a way better support system than she does in the main timeline.

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

What it should mean to support ALL survivors—Fandom discourse and the depiction of sexual assault in media.

So. Okay.

Below is a video that, in my opinion, is a very well thought out and respectful critique of the writing decisions surrounding Angel Dust’s character and purpose in Hazbin’s narrative.

The author of the video does a great job clearly stating their thoughts and opinions, and put a lot of effort into explaining their reasoning in a concise and easy to understand way.

I really recommend giving it a watch—(TW for discussions of rape, sexual assault and abuse. )

However, one of the most important things about this video though, is that the author, Limus, takes the time to specify that the video is only her opinion, and that she does not want to invalidate the feelings of other people or survivors who like or feel represented by Angel Dust. (More below)

In their conclusion, Limus states, “…If you enjoyed “Hazbin Hotel” and Angel Dust as a character, that’s fine. I don’t want you to walk away from this thinking your opinion is less than mine. People have their own reasons for liking media, and the discourse surrounding this show and the harassment that people receive just for liking it is unacceptable. You can have your reasons for disliking a show, but people can also have their reasons for liking it as well. Everything I have said in this video is in relation to my own personal life…”

I was REALLY glad and really relieved that Limus took the time to specify this, because one of my biggest grievances with the discourse regarding Hazbin’s depictions of sexual abuse, assault and rape, is that I see a LOT of people, both critics and fans, disregarding the experiences and feelings of survivors with opinions opposite to theirs.

Specifically, I saw a LOT of people talking about the portrayal of sexual abuse in Hazbin, and media in general, as if it was something that could be judged as being OBJECTIVELY “good” or “bad”.

And then proceeding to argue with people over their opinions and feelings as if they were in some sort of debate and the other person’s beliefs could be disproven.

This was really frustrating to me, because I’m hyper-aware of how media is extremely subjective especially when it comes to serious topics like sexual assault, violence, substance addiction, abuse, etc. etc.

So, I’m going to talk, in detail, about what I see as a lot of hypocrisy within fandom and critical spaces.

This really started in January of this year (2024) when a trailer (or maybe a leak? Sorry I can’t remember) for Hazbin came out, and a scene from Poison was shown.

There were a lot of people who were really concerned with the way Angel Dust’s abuse was shown in the preview, a good amount of them survivors of sexual abuse themselves, and from there the discourse got pretty out of hand.

Worst of all though, people, both fans and critics, allegedly started demanding “proof” of survivor’s assault from those they disagreed with.

This was very gross behavior, and I don’t care what your opinion on Hazbin Hotel is, NO ONE should have done that. It’s not only incredibly invalidating, but also potentially re-traumatizing.

Seriously. I hope ANYONE who engaged in this behavior, REGARDLESS of if they love Hazbin and think it’s the best thing in the world or if they hate it and think it’s the worst piece of media ever, were able to take a step back and realize how hurtful and inappropriate their actions were. And hopefully grow from that.

What disappointed me the most though was seeing Hazbin’s creator’s reaction to all of this. It was, in my opinion, very hypocritical and set the stage for the sort of harassment that is continuing in the fandom today.

A Disclaimer—this is going to be one of the ONLY TIMES I talk directly about the creator of Hazbin Hotel, Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano. I’m doing so because she was engaging directly and openly with this discourse when it was happening, and I think it’s important to talk about her actions and reactions because it provides some context for the background in regards to the ongoing conversations surrounding Hazbin’s SA depictions.

I generally do not like publicly talking about or making judgements on creators as people based on the art they create, because while a creator’s art is almost always influenced by their personality and experiences, it’s not a good way to judge someone’s ENTIRE character. All people are multi-faceted, and the art or media we create usually reflects only part of someone. Additionally, people use art, fiction, and media to explore all kinds of things, including things they would never do or want in real life, and that’s valid and normal. Obviously.

But when a creator publicly expresses an opinion in regards to ongoing discourse, of course people are allowed to discuss it and have their own opinions. Especially when that creator has a lot of fans who look to them as a role-model. Not saying that Vivziepop is responsible for actions of her fans, but when you are a public figure like she is, I do think it’s important to be as mindful as you can about your influence.

With all of that said. Yeah. I was. Incredibly disappointed by Vivziepop’s reaction to this. Because, I actually do agree with a lot of the things she was saying about supporting survivors—

I 100% agree with this. Everyone processes trauma differently, and that should be respected. We should not judge survivors for how they cope or process their trauma.

If this statement was made in response to the all judgement and struggles that survivors generally have to deal with, I would not have any issue with it whatsoever.

But. It wasn’t. Vivziepop said this because people were criticizing Hazbin Hotel—specifically there were survivors who were upset and triggered by scenes from the musical sequence “Poison” that leaked prior to Hazbin’s official release.

Now, obviously, I can’t know her true intent or beliefs. But her bringing all of this up after she had received criticism from survivors about her show leads me to believe that she doesn’t really care about supporting all survivors. Especially since after she said this, she proceeded to dismiss the concerns that several survivors brought to her because “the show hadn’t come out yet”.

To me, this is just hypocrisy.

Now, to be fair. Im also an artist. I understand feeling like your art or story is your baby, and feeling really protective of it. In some ways I was conflicted when all of this was happening back in January, because I get the frustration and hurt that comes with people not liking your art or not giving it a chance.

That can be very disheartening, and definitely feels unfair. I can empathize with Vivziepop in regard to that, because I don’t know how I would handle the amount of criticism her art gets. I’ve had my art criticized pretty harshly online, and it does really hurt. I really can’t imagine how emotionally taxing that is on such a large scale.

But with all of that said, at the end of the day, as creator, especially a creator making something for widespread international audiences, you have to learn how to be okay with the fact that your art, whether it’s music, visual arts, storytelling, or whatever, will not be universally loved. That’s pretty much impossible, and it’s also okay.

And while you obviously don’t have to listen to EVERY bit of criticism you receive, I do think it is vitally important to listen to criticism and concerns when they come from a whole group of people you are trying to represent.

This was Vivziepop’s response to survivors of sexual assault who asked to have their concerns about Angel Dust and the portrayal of his assault also taken seriously:

In my opinion, these replies are all really dismissive. I agree with everything Vivziepop said about survivors who felt represented being spoken over was also wrong. But these are survivors being open about how Vivziepop’s show has already affected them negatively, and the fear that their reactions to and opinions on the show will be, or in some cases—have already been, invalidated and called into question by the Hazbin fandom.

Vivzie’s response to them is that the show hasn’t come out yet, so they are getting upset “preemptively”. It really comes across like their concerns did not matter to Vivziepop, and like it didn’t matter to her that they had already been triggered or felt as if the handling of the scene was fetishistic based on what came out.

She states that her fans are “speaking out on their own experiences and reminding that the scene isn’t out yet”. I’m not denying that some fans do feel represented, but to me, it doesn’t, and didn’t matter if the show hadn’t come out yet.

The full episode can’t magically “take back” the fact that a lot of survivors saw this small clip on its own and it was enough to affect them. And that is just as valid of an experience as people who felt represented.

And listen. No group of people is a monolith and that includes survivors. People WILL have many differing opinions about the way sensitive topics are portrayed, especially when it’s as traumatic as sexual assault and abuse.

I am not saying Vivziepop should have somehow magically concocted a show that handles sexual assault objectively perfectly and pleases every survivor ever. That’s impossible, and I would NEVER ask or expect ANYONE to be able to do that.

But, it’s very clear to me in the interactions above that the people who were upset only wanted their opinions and experiences to be heard and respected as well, and they were essentially told that their feelings didn’t matter.

And to me, Vivziepop’s reaction to all of this was really giving Sia circa 2020:

I really think that, a lot of this could have been mitigated if someone from the Hazbin team, not even necessarily Vivziepop, had just acknowledged, “hey, you’re absolutely in your right to not like the scene and those feelings are valid”.

But there is a very strange sort of hypocrisy that is almost like. Tinted with virtue signaling*??? About listening to all survivors voices, while simultaneously dismissing the voices of survivors that are saying they have already been hurt.

THAT is what bothers me the most. It really seems like the only survivors that a lot of people involved in this discourse, including Vivziepop, were willing to listen to or validate were the ones that already agreed with them.

If you are going to support survivors you DO have to ACTUALLY SUPPORT ALL survivors. Even if they disagree with you.

If you’re still with me, I really really appreciate it. I felt I had to go over all of this to add context, because the concerns those survivors talked about over 10 months ago, foreshadowed the EXACT situation that some people in the Hazbin fandom have now put Limus in.

All because, after the episode came out, they expressed their honest opinions on the subject matter and the way Angel Dust was written in a way fans disagreed with.

I find it really disturbing that, the whole point of Vivziepop’s dismissal was that the show hadn’t come out, and that she said she would “respect” if people had concerns AFTER it came out. But I haven’t really seen any acknowledgment from her that survivors, who after seeing the whole scene, were still negatively affected.

The below is a tweet Vivziepop liked shortly after the episode came out in full.

I agree that any survivors who felt seen by Angel Dust and the show and were invalidated and had their experiences dismissed and questioned by others deserve apologies. But I can’t help but think about the fans who didn’t feel the same, who were hurt, and triggered by the depiction of SA before AND after the show released. I don’t want to read to much into likes, because people like shit for all sorts of reasons, but Vivziepop liking this tweet saying she deserves an apology too does rub me the wrong way, especially after she was told that survivors have ALREADY been hurt.

Don’t those people deserve apologies too? Or at the very least just an acknowledgment that their hurt and concern was valid?? It just comes off to me as a confirmation that Vivziepop doesn’t really want to listen to ALL survivors, just the ones that haven’t criticized her and praised her show.

To clarify—just as Limus did at the end of her video—I AM NOT SAYING THAT SA SURVIVORS WHO DIDNT LIKE THE SHOW’S HANDLING OF SA ARE THE “CORRECT” SURVIVORS AND THAT PEOPLE WHO FELT SEEN AND REPRESENTED BY ANGEL DUST AND THE SHOWS WRITING ARE “WRONG”.

The WHOLE POINT of me going over ALL of this is to take a look at the hypocrisy of many people both in the fandom and outside of it who SAY they care about ALL survivors feelings and experiences, but then call those experiences into question the MOMENT a survivor has an opinion different than their own.

And sadly, I personally believe the creator of Hazbin also contributed hugely to this hypocrisy.

When we look at what happened in January, it now feels weirdly prescient. People are treating Limus’ opinion as if she is personally attacking them, or saying that their experiences are invalid. She did not do that.

It also seems like a lot of people who like Angel Dust and feel he represents them are taking Limus’ critique of the character writing decisions made for Angel Dust, who is not a real person and does not exist, as personal attacks on their real lived experiences. She did not do that either. She was extremely clear that her opinions were in regards to the way Angel Dust was written as a character.

But because Limus critiqued Angel Dust, her experience with abuse has been called into question, just like the above survivors that were concerned about all of this way back in January. This is absolutely fucking unacceptable.

I am saying this to CRITICS AND FANS of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, and fuck it, honestly ALL fandoms—If you have engaged in this sort of behavior, you have got to stop. I think the love and passion you have for the art that is important to you is beautiful and wonderful. But NOTHING justifies treating other people this way. It does not matter how much you love a certain character or how much they comfort you or what solace you find in them. There is NO EXCUSE for bullying and harassing someone over this shit.

I am saying this fully aware that it may cause people to get mad at me and want to send me hate. And honestly that’s fine. I will deal with it if it comes. But I couldn’t sit here and watch so many people shit on someone for talking about their experiences and opinions again.

Please, if you find the tweets/threads I referenced in this post, DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THEM OR HARASS THE POSTERS. This whole long massive post was all about why we should NOT do that.

When these conversations happen, I often see people just. Putting words into other’s mouths like it’s an Olympic sport. If someone says they don’t like the way Angel is written, they are not saying your experiences are invalid. If someone says they love the way Angel is written, they are not saying you have to love him and feel represented by him too.

Please. Please try to empathize with each other. Or at the very least, maybe just take some time to sit with your feelings instead of harassing others. I’m using Hazbin as an example because it’s a fandom I’ve had experience with recently, but this really does apply to all fandoms.

As I final note—if you love Angel Dust and think he’s the best written character and feel really represented and seen by him, that’s wonderful and I’m really happy to hear that the show was cathartic or comforting for you. Genuinely.

And if you hated the way Angel Dust was written and the show triggered you, I am so sorry that happened. It is so painful to re-live trauma like that, and I hope any that pain you felt from being reminded of what happened eased quickly and gently.

Both of your experiences and opinions are completely valid, and you have every right to express your opinions to others. Your trauma is real, and however you process it and cope with it should not be judged by anyone.

I just ask that we all be more respectful, and try to be curious about other’s perspectives regarding this stuff.

Thank you again for bearing with me through all of this. I hope you have a great day or night.

*I really really HATE the term “virtue signaling” because in MOST cases, I only ever see it being used to dismiss minorities and allies concerns about injustices. But, given the circumstances of this situation, I do think it’s actually appropriate here, given that survivors where expressing their concerns to Vivziepop and she was justifying her dismissal of them by saying the show hadn’t come out yet, and then went on to say that all survivors mattered. I don’t know whatever word I should have used, other than it just being hypocritical. Again I hate that term, and wouldn’t be using it here if I didn’t really believe it was appropriate and accurate.

[megabuild]

hello. here is my personal interpretation of the state of hermit/life/etc. somewhat grian focused because hes a bit main character unfortunately but you know how it is