#that's the only explanation to ir behavior

[gethoce]

Can I just say that I LOVE how Marx looks in your art?

All his expressions are just... top notch stuff. I love how expressive he is. He genuinely looks smug in a lot of it and that's just great.

And, uh, if you don't mind, I'ma throw in a question: What do you imagine being some of Marx's favorite prank targets in terms of notable members of the extended Kirby cast?

Explanations under the cut ~

Shadow Kirby: A near impossible task. Whenever Marx tries to prank him, Shadow Kirby seems uninterested, going as far as to taunt him for his lack of creativity. That disinterested stare in the reflection's eyes frustrates Marx to no end! Not a fun target at all, never ended up satisfying that prankster itch.

Gooey: Marx has tried to prank Gooey before, to no success. Gooey seems to simply accept whatever happens to him and move on as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. This usually leaves Marx absolutely flabbergasted! He just can't get his head around Gooey, the unprankable. It almost feels like it is him who actually gets pranked by Gooey!

Rick, Kine and Coo: He used to prank them occasionally, but since that Kine Yin-Yarn fake love letter prank somehow ended up bringing these two together he has gone on a hiatus when it comes to pranking all three of the animal friends. To think he would end up causing Kine to divorce Mine and marry some sort of knitting needle duo… He still hasn't told anyone that it was him who wrote the letters.

Taranza: Marx has pranked him many times at first mocking his posh appearance and behavior with glee! That all stopped when Taranza got a hold of him and used his puppeteer skills to parade him around so everyone could see what a jerk he is and mock him in retaliation. Marx has been keeping his distance from the spider since.

Galacta Knight: The old reliable. At this point Marx isn't even sure whether Galacta's surprised face is genuine. Arguably he is the victim of Marx’ greatest prank. If only he had been there when Galacta Knight found out about it… if he ever did. These days he just feels awkward trying to prank him.

Francisca: Marx likes her so he doesn't go as hard on her. He'll play the occasional trick on her but usually the kind that makes them both chuckle. If it was something more serious he'd evoke the ire of Flamberge as well anyway.

Zan Partizanne: It is easy to rile her up, this much is clear. He could prank her with his eyes closed! Whether he is fast enough to avoid the consequences is a different thing… Still worth it for the bit occasionally.

Adeleine: Since he has known way more humans than she ever has he likes to tell her a thing or two about them. Occasionally he may�� twist the truth a little bit. She may have thought she could learn how to breathe fire at one point or another. Notably he does not dare to do anything to her art. He did it once and everyone was on his bad side within an instant.

Elfilin: Since he knew Fecto Elfilis personally he likes to take advantage of what he knew about them to unsettle him. In truth he didn't know Elfilis all that well, but Elfilin doesn't know that and Marx gladly uses that to his advantage.

Dark Meta Knight: You'd think he would be an easier target than regular Meta Knight, yet DMK is already frustrated when Marx is simply just in the area. There isn't much he can do in front of him to rile him up even more. Instead Marx came up with a more stealthy tactic… He reminds DMK of his existence by leaving notes in his house to taunt him. A witty remark or a framed Marx selfie on his nightstand, anything that causes the reflection to think of him. The payoff is a little delayed since he usually misses out on the reaction, but he enjoys it greatly to see the knight storm into his direction with murderous intent.

Susie: His normal pranks don't seem to have an effect on her. She'd usually just act all nonchalant and unimpressed or even ignore him entirely. Instead Marx has to resort to different tactics… He likes to orchestrate elaborate plans to make her question her sense of reality and perception. Sometimes he just moves an object from one place to another, other times more drastic changes come into play such as subtly changing the colours of her walls just a little over and over again until they are a different colour.

Kirby: Since direct methods have proven to backfire he had to come up with a different tactic… A tactic that allows him to prank multiple targets at once no less! Simply convince Kirby to take part in a prank and then let him take the fall or at least have him take some of the blame! Either way Marx has the last laugh! Not as fun to prank as others, but he does get enjoyment out of pranking his old nemesis.

Daroach: A fun but challenging target! He always has the most hilarious flabbergasted reactions! Though he is very attentive, Marx has to really prove his skill to not be noticed by a master thief like Daroach. He notices even subtle changes in his environment, unlike Susie. Marx likes to lure him with treasure, something Daroach just can not resist.

Ribbon: Marx’ favorite way of pranking her is jump scares! He can do some excellent screeches and her reactions are the best! It's usually in good fun between the two, they actually get along quite well!

Bandana Waddle Dee: Marx’ favourite prank is to pretend as though he doesn't recognise Bandee as anything but a random Waddle Dee. In his case he also likes to sabotage him in secret to make it seem like he is doing a bad job. Bonus points if the king gets to see whichever mess the Dee has gotten himself into. A very fun target!

Meta Knight: Arguably one of Marx’ biggest pranks was directed towards Meta Knight. He pretended to be just an innocent citizen who needed help and just a few days later Meta Knight tried (and failed) to overthrow the king! Meta Knight also blamed himself for Marx’ “death” when he tried to take over Popstar thinking it was his failure that led to the takeover attempt of the noddy. Meta Knight still isn't fully aware of Marx’ true nature and the jester loves to take advantage of that. Having that vigilant knight stand up for him cracks him up every time!

Flamberge: Similar to Zan she is easy to prank but escaping her wrath isn't as much of an issue, although many fires have been started as she attempted to chase after him regardless, which just add to the fun in his eyes. She isn't nearly as fast as Zan and actually does get along with him on a normal day.

King Dedede: Oh, a favourite of his! Dedede’s big ego and loud personality allows for all kinds of different pranks to work! The only downside really is that the king doesn't have that stoic attitude Marx enjoys to break through. Most reactions are a bit standard. Still a fun target any day of the week! Quick and easy!

Morpho Knight: There is probably nobody in existence Marx despises more than Morpho Knight. He doesn't just prank it casually, he wants to be cruel about it. Is it dangerous to dare prank a bringer of death? Most certainly. Does he fear it even a little bit? No fear can ever overpower the hatred that fills his mind when he sees it.

Magolor: He is both a partner in crime and a target at the same time. Magolor has to endure pretty much everything Marx has to offer and there is nothing more delicious than his reactions! Magolor's huge ego and self-important wizard attitude make him the perfect pranking target! As much as Marx enjoys the sciences himself, he will sabotage Magolor wherever he can even when it has negative consequences for him. Anything for the bit!

[avalonblue12]

The Low-Down on the Genshin VA Drama

So, I was recently responding to someone else, and figured I'd make a post explaining exactly what's happening for people not entirely aware of the situation.

Basically, there's an ongoing SAG AFTRA strike (SAG AFTRA is an american VA Union), and that's extending into Hoyoverse games like Genshin Impact and HSR.

What is this drama about?

They recently replaced a VA for the character, Kinich, who was NOT part of the union but was striking in solidarity without protections.

The new VA, Jacob Takanashi a VA from Japan, expressed his excitement over having a new role on twitter.

This resulted in various Union VAs, such as Paimon VA and Keqing's VA notably to essentially start a harssment/bullying campaign which fans did NOT take very well.

You guys... you guys already see the first problem here, right? Takanashi is based IN JAPAN and for the matter did not know there was a even a strike

Ororon's VA, Nathan Nokes (who btw was one of the few to go "hey guys, maybe let's not resort to bullying tactics especially when we don't know everything) actually went and confirmed this:

This is actually supported by the tweet that started everything:

It is very clear from how it's worded he wasn't entirely aware of the situation. Even if you argue that he could've done more research it doesn't excuse the behavior of some of the other VAs

This is especially notable for Paimon VA who's drawn a lot of ire since she was one of the firstarters despite the fact that she is part of SAG AFTRA and NOT striking. In fact, she voices a character who consistently has some of the most lines per patch and thus has arguably the most leverage out of anyone in the cast.

2. Why are people turning against SAG AFTRA?

There were misgivings about some parts of the Interim Agreement that Hoyo refused to sign in the past, but has recently returned full force with the above controversy:

TLDR; SIgning this agreement means Hoyo has to boot out Non-SAG Aftra VAs. A reminder, Genshin and HSR have been international projects from the start so they would be screwing over a LOT of people. This is on TOP of penalizing them for hiring internationally for this project that was already international in its conception.

Naturally, this didn't sit well with a lot of people, and a few even see this as a power grab. Why? Because if this were ONLY about AI Protections and pay/treatment Hoyo would have signed it ages ago.

To cut it short: Hoyo's international projects ALREADY have AI protection BY LAW in several countries they hire VAs in, including their home of China, and studios/unions outside of SAG AFTRA that they've hired from BEFORE THE STRIKE like SIDE Global already have these protections mandated as well.

There would otherwise be no reason to withhold this from what's likely only a part of their overall VAs when they're willing to do so for everyone else.

IIRC Khoi Dao (Albedo VA) has had his own Q&A about this but keep in mind the source isnt' necessarily unbiased. I recommend reading it through the horses mouth through the SAG AFTRA site or the links above first.

Regardless though, (and this is one poin of Khoi's Q&A people had a problem with) is that full jurisidiction over the jobs of VAs that are already established would come under the hands of a foreign union.

Yes, there are mitigating factors like the Taft-Hartleys, but these are highly limited (3 times 30 hours each for a project for life iirc), and eventually force you to join the Union ANYWAY.

Yes, there are ways to join in on the union, but not only is there a monetary hurdle ($3000 plus additional fees), even if you were to get an exemption or some sort of exception, it comes AT the discretion of said Union, and even if you did everything right, they could still boot you out anyway, out of a job YOU already had.

4. Why is SAG AFTRA doing this? (Imma just copypaste my old explanation here)

Now, personally? I'm not saying the interim is worded like that as a powergrab nor do I personally think it is.

This likely stemmed from one thing: SAG AFTRA VAs violating Global Rule 1:

Basically: They're not allowed to work on Non-union projects.

For this EXACT kind of reason. Because it creates a schism in the studios, the union involved would not have as strong a leverage, and literally EVERYONE INVOLVED- the union, the company, independent VAs, international unions- gets put in a scenario where they get screwed no matter what.

Genshin and HSR from the very beginning were not SAG AFTRA Projects. They were VERY EXPRESSLY international ones and Hoyo wasn't shy about the fact that it wanted to hire international talents.

Usually from what I know, Global Rule 1 isn't heavily enforced, which is why the VAs ended up joining GI and HSR in the first place. This wouldn't be a problem for smaller, one-and-done kind of projects, but these are gachas, long-term projects that frequently have VAs return.

So when SAG AFTRA asks all of its members to strike, this happens and nothing gets done for a long time. In a more optomistic lens, they likely feel like in order to get these terms, they HAVE to have full control over the project.

5. Afterword

So yeah, that's basically the down-low on the drama and why people are turning against the union.

Regardless, I highly HIGHLY recommend you, the reader to go through and read the Interim Agreement yourself and come to your own conclusion (not the reddit comments obv, I only added that in case they updated the page) .

This is a very VERY messy scenario that's been mishandled in nearly every place conceivable (how some VAs acted turning people against them, the Union not enforcing its own rules and not being transparent the entire strike to fans and VAs alike, etc.).

Instead of having one or another party explain it to you, read through the Interim Agreement and come up with a stance on it your own! No lens to view it through, just what's been requested from the horses mouth directly.

[andtheylive]

BUCKLE UP KIDS! you are about to read my magnum opus: my explanation for how each of the muses on this blog fit into my thesis that scream is about misogyny. i’m going to try not to get too ramble-y, but this is something i’m very passionate about. let’s start from the very beginning, shall we?

casey - women’s promiscuity must be punished. i see a lot of parallels between casey and maureen; both were not faithful partners (see casey lying about having a bf to the voice on the phone), both are the victims of brutal, very targeted deaths as a result. i hands down think casey has the most violent death in the first film. it’s not enough to kill her — no, they torment her first. make her watch her bf die, force her to answer a series of questions in the vain hope she might save her own/steve’s lives. stu is bitter about casey dumping him, just like billy is bitter about maureen prescott having an affair with his father. as a result? they are slaughtered mercilessly.

sidney - it is always a woman’s fault, and women can be interchangeable. it takes two to tango; maureen did not slip and fall on hank’s dick, he chose to have an affair that pushed his wife away. as far as we know however, hank lives until the end of the movie. he faces no punishment from his son. but it’s not enough to kill maureen and leave her daughter without a mother; that rage seeps into how billy views sidney. she has done nothing wrong, but she receives the same ire and almost faces a similar fate for it. it’s very akin to how a misogynist will paint women as a whole with one broad stroke because of the actions of one. and THEN! mrs. loomis has the AUDACITY to blame sidney for billy’s deplorable actions which resulted in his own death. even when a man is to blame, the finger is pointed at a woman.

tatum - what happens when women put their foot down. tatum takes no bullshit the entire movie. she is not afraid to be mean, she is not afraid to insert herself between sidney and people that she believes do not have sid’s best intentions at heart (gale, other reporters in town, billy himself). tatum, imo, dies because of girl code: there was no way in hell she was going to let sidney be alone with billy. he makes sid feel bad about herself and her boundaries, he makes sid question her trauma and grieving process. tatum flat out says she thinks he’s fucking fishy bc he comes across as too perfect. so she had to go! she is disposable, and stu is later on seen flirting with other girls after sending her out to her death.

sam - mentally ill women are maligned and made to feel guilty for their own mistreatment. richie is basically billy 2.0 — he gaslights and manipulates his gf the entire film. he shames her for her mental health struggles, paints her as a villain because of her psychosis and her familial trauma. then, his family gangs up on sam and continues to torment her for defending herself against richie. not only that, they led an internet hate mob against her; the public is so eager and willing to hate a woman for her own misfortunes. society has a history of abusing and harassing women that have been victims of despicable behavior, and sam falls in line with pattern of mistreated ladies. it’s so similar to what happened to sidney in two, with the added aspect of a twitter audience joining in on her abuse.

[karikarasuno]

this has turned into a whole thing and i apologize. linking the other parts tho in case you're interested: part1, part2, & part3

--

shouto has a smart mouth. he never grew out of that trait much to his father's dismay and ire. but he never thought you'd bring that out in him. he's usually so calm and resolute in your presence. but today you're irritated. annoyed. agitated.

you're in rare form, truly. and it shouldn't bother him when he walks into the conference room and you're clicking your pen incessantly. you called an emergency meeting about the budget. seems like there's an issue with the funds allocated to your account so you asked all the department heads to meet with you after the lunch hour. iida was already in there, focused on the open laptop in front of him, and so was izuku, who was awkwardly fiddling with his bluetooth mouse. he was used to their moods.

iida was always concentrated, stern, and serious. while izuku was always a nervous wreck and a chronic overthinker.

you, though, were always poised and polite. smiling and professional in any circumstance. not today. today your mood was sour and it shifted the energy in the room to something almost suffocating.

"hi," izuku squeaked out when he noticed shouto's arrival.

"thanks for coming," you say, absentmindedly writing something in your planner. you didn't look up at him like you always did. that bothered him.

he's grown used to your gaze. has found great comfort in it since you two have started dating. but now you're ignoring him and it's making him feel... fussy.

"what's this about?" he asks as he slides into the chair opposite you. your head snaps up when you recognize the hint of attitude present in shouto's tone. especially because he knows exactly what this is about.

“the budget is wrong,” you respond flatly. “im missing a chunk of funding from my account and id like to figure out why.”

“doesn’t seem like something that would warrant a meeting with everyone. accounting should be able to fix it,” he says that last part in iida’s direction. his fingers halt above his keyboard at shouto’s callout.

“i wish it was that simple,” iida begins explaining, “but the money seems to have disappeared.”

“that’s impossible,” shouto answers with something close to condescension in his voice.

“well, yes—,” iida attempts to continue his explanation.

“only a moron would lose this much money,” shouto says dryly and he hears a gasp from izuku.

“watch your mouth, sho,” you reprimand. anger so evident the room frosts over. he swears he even sees izuku shudder.

but he keeps his eyes on yours, challenging when he replies, “I can’t see my mouth.”

your eye twitches with irritation and his lip twitches with barely contained smugness as the room rapidly heats up. neither of you were backing down. and he got a strange thrill from it. maybe he also enjoyed you angry.

“a word?” you stand methodically and gesture an arm to the door, signaling for the both of you to step out. he rises in silence.

he’s following you down the hall to your office. he can’t help but keep his eyes trained on your figure. not really feeling apologetic for his behavior. even though he was rude.

when he enters your office he reclines on your desk and watches as you quietly shut the door. he can tell you’re practically fuming. your cheeks are flushed, your breathing is deliberate, and you won’t stop fidgeting with your ring. you only fidget with your ring when you're trying to regulate your emotions. he guesses he’s to blame this time.

“what is your problem?” you ask with a sigh. disappointed? no. just aggravated.

“nothing,” he shrugs dismissively, lying.

“yeah right,” you laugh humorlessly. “you calling iida a moron was just a cute nickname then?”

“i didn’t say he was a moron,” he argued, technically not lying this time.

you pinch the bridge of your nose, fingers sliding up to massage your brow bone. you were prone to headaches, he learned. a part of him feels bad now for adding to your stress. but not bad enough to back down. he's stubborn like that.

"it was the implication," you explain, slowly, reeling in your anger through a tight jaw.

you still aren't looking at him. even alone, your eyes remain closed or averted. he's learning that he hates that. and while your eyes remain elsewhere, his trail over you.

your blouse is lavender today. soft and flowy where the fabric ripples against your skin. your slacks are black and they hug your hips in a way that makes his pulse pump just a bit faster. he's quite fond of your legs, especially right now. you're wearing heels. you often do at work, but for some reason your legs look longer today. maybe its the pants. he's not sure.

but before he can think too much about it, his fingers are slipping beneath your belt loops. he spreads his fingers wide across your hips and tugs you into him. he's surprised when you don't resist. given the fact that you're upset with him. but you fit easily between his parted legs.

your eyes don't meet his and even though indignation flares in his chest, it doesn't matter. because his face finds your neck. and you smell good. warm. cozy. when he brought it up to you awhile back, you mentioned a patchouli fragrance oil. he didn't know nor care what that was. just that he liked when you wore it.

"you're being annoying today," you mutter, but regardless of your words, your body still softens in his embrace and your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck.

"i don't like when you ignore me," he mumbles against the collar of your shirt. it's silky on his lips. he smiles at the feeling.

"ignore you?" your voice is incredulous and when you try to move from his grasp his hold tightens. "when?"

"the conference room."

the office is suddenly silent. your breaths even quiet at his admission. he can tell you're holding it, but he refuses to unwrap himself from your body.

"shouto," you say, tone shifting into something teetering towards amusement. he buries his face further in your neck. but before he can get too comfortable you start laughing. your whole body squirms and vibrates as your giggles increase.

your hands find his biceps and with much more strength than before you peel yourself away from him to look directly in his eyes. that was all he wanted really. from the beginning.

your expression is completely different now. your features are no longer pinched with irritation and your lips aren't flattened together. your eyes are watery from laughing and your cheeks carry a pretty blush.

"i just want you to know," you start, hands rising to cup his cheeks, "that you're the most ridiculous man i've ever met."

he pouts. he doesn't really mean to. but it awards him a brief kiss from you, so he doesn't complain. "and for whatever reason i find that incredibly endearing, but i'm warning you now if you ever interrupt my meeting again because you feel neglected, we're fighting in the parking lot."

he can't help it. the laugh bubbles up from his chest and his head falls forward from how completely unexpected that was. he rises to his full height and moves you with him towards the closed door. but before you open it, his lips fall to your ear and he whispers, "if you're giving me an excuse to get you to touch me, i'll take it."

[basedonconjecture]

CHAPTER 15: A GRIEVOUS FAULT, AMBITION

Summary: The funeral of Caterina Dellamorte continues. Lucanis is losing patience with Illario's politicking and commiserates with Teia about his cousin's behavior; Rook gathers intel for Viago while watching Lucanis' back (and keeping an eye out for Spite) but her work is interrupted by an unwelcome guest; Special guest appearances: Chance Candide and the De Acutis siblings. Tags: for alcohol, implied drunkenness, mentions of death Read Chapter: here Full Fic: here Preview:

    In nearly every respect, Orazio Valisti presented more a caricature of the princes of his house than the genuine article. A man in his middle forties, he fashioned himself a bit like a pirate who’d just taken his stolen bounty ashore with the express purpose of spending the entirety. The leather of his doublet was of obviously fine quality and he wore it open over a black silk shirt with so many ruffles the material could have made up several petticoats. Layers of gold chains hung from his neck from which a myriad of jeweled pendants and medallions jangled each time the man waved emphatically about as if he’d just stepped off a ship. Even the pearl that dangled from his ear, nestled among heavily oiled black curls, seemed designed for the affectation — and affectation it almost certainly was. Lucanis doubted the man had ever stepped foot aboard one of the Valisti’s fleet of ships before the Antaam requisitioned them. 

    Orazio was boastful and arrogant and, ultimately, a fool too enraptured with his own presence but he knew better than to underestimate the Talon. There had been significant contest over who was to follow Lera Valisti as the head of their house after her unfortunate demise at the hand of Emil Kortez several years before and, yet, each who would oppose Orazio’s claim had quickly stepped aside. It couldn’t have been more suspicious had they all turned up dead. He also knew he ought to be paying closer attention to the conversation, but Illario had taken the lead, and his mind kept wandering across the room to where Rook was. Bookended by Noa and Neri de Acutis, she said something that drew laughter from the siblings and, not for the first time since the funeral had moved into the reception, he regretted not being close enough to hear what it was. 

    “How the Crows could have allowed these—these invaders into our city,” Orazio was saying now, drawing his attention back, gesturing emphatically with his wine goblet. “It’s a disgrace.”

    Lucanis felt his brows rise, certain he must have misheard. The implication wouldn’t have been nearly so surprising from an outsider. From one of their own, it bordered on something rather treasonous or, at very least, foolish to speak so loudly in front of so many who’d take personal affront. He’d decided early in the conversation that he cared very little for Orazio Valisti and that opinion had only worsened to such a degree he was no longer in the mood to accept charitable explanations for the man’s thinly veiled insults. House Valisti had lost control of Treviso decades ago. Clearly its current Talon believed himself somehow separate from those who controlled it now, absolved of responsibility, by virtue of…what exactly? He hid his rising ire under a carefully neutral expression.

    “Pardon me,” he interjected, drawing their attention. Avoiding Illario’s eye, he directed his words to the Talon. “You can probably imagine there are a number of things I have missed since the occupation began…but there is one point you can clear up for me, Valisti.”

    As expected, the man’s own self-importance blinded him to caution and he smugly replied, “I shall certainly endeavor to do so.”

    “When the invasion of Treviso occurred,” Lucanis began, thinking back to everything he’d known from before his capture as well as all Viago and Teia had been able to tell him to what he’d managed to piece together in the time he’d been free. He had a theory but one he wasn’t yet sure could hold water. On that score, he was hoping Valisti might reveal something of use. He could feel Illario’s eyes boring into him. “It came by sea, no? Our eyes were on their movements in the west and they sailed right into our city while our backs were turned.”

    “Yes, they struck out at Rivain first,” replied Orazio, lip curling. “And failed, more importantly. Making Antiva look all the worse when they managed to cut one of our strongest ports off from the rest of the country.”

    Lucanis hummed thoughtfully. “So, they sail either from Ventus or directly from Seheron to Rivain with the intent to launch an invasion there, fail, then continue on to Antiva where they take Treviso?” He paused. This was not new information to any of those clustered around him but it was necessary to revisit to get to the heart of his inquiry. “I wonder how they made it past the Armada without incident.”

    “As if the Felicisima are ever out for anything but their own ends,” the older man snorted, drinking deeply from his goblet.

    “That is true,” he conceded, tipping his head at the point. “I did wonder if House Valisti still maintained their relationships with the Raiders. With the loss of your ships, I suppose there is no longer a point to them.”

    The Talon choked on his port.

    “Lucanis…” Illario warned. 

[literaturereviewhelp]

Apart from placing variables to test cause and effect relationships, experiments also allow the researcher to have full control over the subject that is being observed. The use of experiments in the research area of international relations could be of great value. Firstly, its frequent use as a methodological tool will challenge the old ways of investigation in the field. Secondly, it will bridge the gap of inquiry between many subfields within this discipline. For example, experiments could bring new insights into public policy and its effect in foreign affairs. Apart from generating new knowledge into the field, it is also important to acknowledge the limitations that experiments pose in the research process. For instance, the generalizability of the results gained from it could be limited as the scope of research is usually conducted on a micro level (Halperin & Heath 2012: 197). Questions like if the results of a voting behavior in one province of a country can be generalized throughout many countries in the region. The article by Natalie Hudson and Michael Butler titled “The State of Experimental Research in IR: An Analytical Survey” firstly presents the scope of using experiment as a research methodology in social science and then evaluates the function that it plays in contributing to the field of international relations. To achieve this, the authors discuss its contribution as playing a role in searching for facts, testing or theory building and creating valuable knowledge for the exercise of foreign policy. Also, they provide an explanation of how the use of this research technique can build bridges not only between similar disciplines as such but also within similar sub fields and research methodologies like comparative research. As part of their conclusion, the authors predict the potential growth areas in the field of international relations with the help of experiments. For example, experiments could be used to determine whether and how rogue states would behave in a situation of crisis. The function then the experiment has is to uncover the cause and effect relationship leading to a pattern of social behavior. Research question Reflecting the usefulness and the limitations of experiments alongside evaluating the text of Hudson and Butler, the research question of this paper is “How can experiment as a research methodology fulfil the aims of social scientific investigation”. The rest of this paper will forge an analysis by reflecting on different issues in political research to answer the question. The question is significant in the field of international relations because it will not only open the discussion of whether experiments could be used as a mainstream method in international studies but will also help us look into the areas of research which has been insufficiently investigated (Halperin & Heath 2012: 133). Discussion One of the main aims of a social scientific inquiry is to produce knowledge and objective facts that will not only help to solve real world problems but will also produce other similar questions that will spearhead further political investigation. Similarly, the work of a social scientific inquiry is to also “further the goals of a scientific literature” (Halperin & Heath 2012). The subfields of international relations are constantly growing in areas like Cognitive Psychology, Anthropology, Socio-biology and comparative politics. The fact that international relations is constantly growing in an interdisciplinary manner provides the ground to use the experiment method to fulfil the ambitions of this issue area (Butler & Hudson 2010: 172). The rigorous technique of researching with experiments will not only provide a bridge but will also connect the knowledge gained within the research of its sub fields Read the full article

[ciswomenofficial]

Obviously pedophilia in media is not exclusive to japan and the idea that it’s just a problem in anime is racist, but we can’t even treat the majority of the people discussing ��pedophilic anime” with the benefit of the doubt as though they were talking about the way a wider problem manifests within anime in particular.

I’ve been showing my partner sailor moon, and while they like a lot of elements of the show they’ve (correctly imo) identified the romance between Mamoru and Usagi as being poor messaging that is—intentionally or otherwise—essentially selling little girls on the idea that abusive and pedophilic behavior is romantic. For instance mamoru kisses usagi while she’s drunk and passed out, as a college guy pursues a middle school girl who thinks she’s more mature than she really is (Rei) and a middle school girl who’s in love with love (Usagi) both sorts of girls who would be eminently targetable for grooming (actual not gay people existing), he keeps meeting up with Usagi in what the narrative frames as coincidences due to their fate but which could only be explained by material forces by him stalking her, he acts in a way that makes him seem like he’d be too immature and weird to get dates with girls his own age which is a common justification for actual pedophiles as to why they abuse children, and another college boy Motoki even points out that it would be weird for a college guy to date a middle school girl in a weird self aware moment. Funny how fandomites are concerned about the pedophilia in anime are targeting it on shit like K-On and not that. So what makes sailor moon different from the nichijou-kei anime that bear the brunt of the accusations of pedophilia?

Well, first of all perhaps some of these fandomite are convinced by sailor moon’s reputation as feminist among lifestyle feminists because it said silly libfem girl power words. Second of all there’s the fact that sailor moon centers around a creepy straight romance featuring a creepy straight man, whereas the nichijou-kei anime that most frequently draw fandomite ire are associated with trannies, and de-gendered unmasculine cis men, conveniently ignoring the sizable amount of cis woman yuri fans who enjoy the genera who don’t create the same trannyized image of a “degenerate.” Mamoru is the height of the patriarchy—he’s what Akio would be if he were coddled by the narrative—while Bochi, YRYR, and so forth are associated in the increasingly fascist first-world mind with the specter of faggot groomer degeneracy. To be more fair than I should these definitely both play a role in the discrepancy so maybe not all of it could be attributed to racism.

However, while these may account for some of the explanation of why sailor moon isn’t considered a pedo anime, I think the most obvious answer is still racism. Sailor moon was adapted and westernized, watched by many of these bloggers as children. That is why you don’t see them calling it a pedo anime, plain and simple. Westernization changes the way that anime and other non-western cultural products are looked at. Look at the way that many people hardly even consider the pokemon tv series to be anime—when I’ve described it with the word, a lot of people have reacted with surprise. Even those who acknowledge sailor moon as anime view it differently because of the widespread western adoption. I’d bet you ghibli movies—for all of miyazakis bloomers shots—and shonen—for all the sexualized girl characters—are seen as different from the specter of perverted pedo anime for the same reason.

[accio-victuuri]

On birthday woes : why zz/wyb decided to stay quiet on their special day 🎂🎁

I’ve been wanting to put all my thoughts regarding this whole topic in one place as I try to make sense of it. also if anyone wants to know what I think, then feel free to read along. please don’t take my word for it. this is just my brain dump.

I feel let down tbh, that both of them are not celebrating their birthdays like the previous years. If you think about it, it shouldn’t be a big deal. I guess most people even antis & passerby will be fine with them being all over weibo on the day of their birthday. No matter what is going on in the country. It’s not exactly classified as “entertainment”, tho they are part of that circle. It’s a personal celebration and fans who support them will want to give their greetings. but that’s just me talking. selfish me who was so spoiled for the past years ( bring 2020 celebration back! ). I know they have a good reason to do so and I wouldn’t be such a fan if these two weren’t so self aware and responsible. now let me write about the possible reasons and a bit of cpn.

• Political Timing ⏱

Yibo’s birthday week fell on Nancy Pelosi’s visit to Taiwan ( August 2 ) and the whole political nightmare that created. Tensions were high and people were talking about possible retaliation from China’s side. Add the hyper nationalists who were posting “crying” ( I don’t know how else to call it ) videos on Douyin because Pelosi landed in Taiwan, despite XJP’s regime making them believe that they will shoot down any United States plane that will try and make an independent visit to Taiwan.

All over weibo, you saw people and celebrities sharing the One China ( policy ) post — showing their support to their country. Posts about China’s military, hinting that they are ready for whatever happens. Finally, the morning of Bobo’s birthday, China released their sanctions to the US for what happened. So overall, it wasn’t a good look to be plastering Yibo’s place all over all Weibo. Or in major cities like Beijing or Shanghai for that matter. Tho as i said earlier, a simple personal birthday post or selfie from him wouldn’t hurt— I guess it was just an executive decision to stay quiet.

GG’s day on the other hand, comes right after the National Day Holiday. Also weeks before the National Congress that @rainbowsky mentioned here and if you don’t know the importance of this then let me direct you to @potteresque-ire explanation here. While I do understand how extra careful GG and his team are, also sensitive to current events, I feel like they could still get away with posting a personal photo. It’s also worth mentioning that there are other big-name celebrities who posted birthday content weeks/ days before GG ( Yangmi and WJK for example ). Even someone who posted on the same day as GG ( TJC ).

• Qinglang call & personal decisions

The literal meaning of QingLang (清朗) is “cleansed and uncontaminated.” Originally, the program was presented as aimed at the “control of chaos” (乱象治理的通) in the cyberspace. It was explained that the “chaos” was mostly created by the fan groups of celebrities, where “fanaticism” was on display and inappropriate comments were published on a variety of items.

To those who are not familiar with this, it’s a campaign started back in May 2021 regarding responsible online behavior. You might also remember the boys’ studios mentioning this when they share posts related to fan behavior. particularly with Yibo last year, his studio posted about adhering to rules set by the campaign.

It is important to point out that these rules are not only aimed at celebrities but to big network platforms & companies as well. and as detailed below:

The 4 major points of Qinglang 2022:

• Companies “deepen their understanding’ of the QingLang campaign. They should “effectively improve the political position” and “fight a tough, protracted and overall battle” to make sure that all that is posted expresses loyalty to “the CCP and the Country.”

• The companies should assume and assign responsibility. If something disloyal to the CCP and the Country is posted, the Party wants to know who was responsible for it. “Each responsibility should be assigned to specific positions and personnel to ensure that all stages of work are carried out without compromise.”

• Once the responsible personnel has been clearly identified, it should “control key sections such as topics, groups, and circles.” Further “chaos” will not be tolerated, meaning that posts should be “cleaned up” and if necessary edited or cancelled immediately.

• The companies should “strengthen security. It is necessary to continuously improve the community rules,” and also “improve the political commitment” of company executives. There should be CCP cells in each company office. The Internet companies should acknowledge “the political leading role of Party organizations,” and cooperate in case of “special operations”.

It’s all in the glory of the CCP and gives the impression that everything not aligned to CCP’s ideals is considered chaos. No surprise there.

I actually thought Yibo’s move was something Yuehua recommended and their artists are doing. Since they are, after all, a company that should adhere to the same Qinglang call for suppressing fan behavior. But No. I saw his other label mates posting on their birthday this year ( 2022 ) ( for example Hangeng ).

Which leads me to the conclusion of it’s a mix of this campaign and a personal decision. Let’s face it, these rules were created for fandoms like what ZZ/WYB have. Their solo fandoms are known to be really extravagant when it comes to their birthday ( among other things ) + they have a strong CP following too. Also add the brands they endorse on the mix — they can sponsor birthday events and release special edition bday products. It’s this whole “excessiveness” that the boys and their own studios are ( what I think ) avoiding to happen. It’s a small price to pay for two people who are notoriously private and have always been humble about their fame. The public’s view on celebrities have not been good for the past years — amidst the scandals that happened — it is a conscious choice to not flaunt anything lavish.

Having a quiet and simple birthday isn’t so bad, compared to possible “trouble” they can get into if the celebrations and fan activities are misunderstood.

I’m wondering if the personal part of this decision was discussed between the two of them. It’s not even CPN, even if you don’t think they’re dating, as close friends — they can ask each other. They have celebrity friends i’m sure or even “seniors” to consult but no one in that circle knows what it’s like to be in the position they’re in than each other. Plus they’ve aways had this “understanding” between them from when they met in CQL shoot and beyond. I’m thinking about them sitting down and seriously looking at what they can actively do to be less of a “celebrity” and the first thing that came to mind is give up the whole birthday extravagance. They may have different career paths now but their values are still the same — those of us who pay attention can clearly see that. This is why they work so well together.

I am not privy to what other c-ent celebrities are like but there is a reason why both of them have the fan following they have. They are good people. They ( mostly ) inspire their fans to be better. ZZ/WYB have always tried to set a good example, and oftentimes at the expense of their comfort. It’s so easy to repost propaganda content. It’s easy to attend state approved events. It’s easy to film VCRs/films/dramas to lend “support” to whatever projects the state is pushing. What’s hard is to look into yourself and see what you can let go from all the excess. I am comforted by the knowledge that they can still celebrate their birthday quietly, and that’s how they want it to be. What’s important is they had a good day.

I think the best birthday gift we can give zz/wyb is to have fun on their day. Go out and spend time outside. Have a day to ourselves and not be online.

-END.

[toon-topaz]

Since I outlined Jervis’ backstory, I decided to try and draw him at various stages of his life, mostly what happened up to becoming the Mad Hatter.

Explanations of each panel below

Baby: Jervis Tetch was born in early April in a small English town, to two parents who really would rather not have had children. They did what was necessary to sustain their baby, but his cries were largely ignored if it wasn’t an absolute necessity. As such, he primarily spent the first months of his life playing by himself, and vying for his parents attention every change he got.  Toddler:   Jervis’ sister Alice was born when he was 3 years old, and suffered similarly neglectful behaviors from their parents. By this time, Jervis had become as self-sufficient as a 3 year old possibly could be, entertaining himself with games and TV, and taking apart remote controls. Once Alice came along, he spent his every waking moment with her, caring for her in ways he had lacked, and telling endless stories he made up. When she grew a bit older and started getting in trouble, Jervis would defend her, drawing his parents’ ire onto himself. He couldn’t bare to see his sister hurt, and they quickly became each others’ safe haven, and were virtually inseparable. Child: At age 9, Jervis first watched Alice in Wonderland, picked out from a video store for his sister’s birthday because it had her name on the cover. They watched it together that night, and Jervis instantly fell in love with it. He ravenously sought out any and all things Wonderland related, and discovered the original books, which he would read several times a day, both alone and as bedtime stories to his sister. The best times of his life were spent reenacting various scenes with Alice, where he would play the other characters. He was the White Rabbit, the Cheshire Cat, and his favorite, the Hatter. He felt a particular kinship with the character, with his already present love for hats and tea, and the feeling of being not quite like the other children at his school. He was often teased and was rather unpopular, but Alice always came to his defense even from her own friends. He was a brilliant child, though teacher often complained about his lack of focus and maturity, spending time reading and taking apart electronics instead of doing homework. He found security in Carroll’s stories, and his love for them very quickly turned into a special interest.

Pre-teen: Jervis never forgot the night a stranger knocked at the door to tell him that his parents had been killed in a driving accident. He felt very little for them, but then he was told that he would have to leave, and he and Alice may be separated, and that was pure despair. They packed up their things, and were put into the foster system. None of their foster parents kept them for long, for nobody wanted to adopt an aggressive and volatile child such as him, and as he and Alice could not be separated no matter what the adults tried, she remained without parents as well. They went to the orphanage together, and remained there despite attempts to adopt them out, and as the years went by, the opportunities became slimmer and slimmer. Bullying from his peers was now worse, as all the boys seemed to go through puberty but him, he remained small and his voice squeaky. Even Alice seemed to outgrow him eventually. He did his best to fit in, but he never had any friends but Alice, whom he grew even more attached to as the only person who ever accepted him as he was.

Teen: Jervis finally hit puberty far later than his peers, but his height only increased by about an inch. Bitter and hormonal, Jervis stopped caring what his peers thought of him and fully embraced his eccentricities. Or at least that was the intention. He dressed the way he wanted and excelled in specific areas of school. He didn’t like seeing Alice spending more time with her friends than him, and grew a rather controlling streak, taking a parental role in her life despite her protests. Now that he was almost an adult he had to be responsible for her, and that meant making sure she behaved. He would never admit it, but he was jealous. Jealous that he had to share her attention, when she was his sister and he clearly knew her best. Unbeknownst to him, or rather, while he refused to acknowledge it, she felt suffocated by his presence in her life, disliking how controlling he had become. Even after he had come of age, he refused to leave the orphanage, lest he lose his sister.

Young Adult: After graduating, Jervis was accepted into university, and studied neurology extensively. Between his studies, his tinkering with electronics on the side, and working to keep himself afloat, he didn't notice what Alice was planning. On the night of her 18th birthday, she wrote a note for Jervis and left the orphanage to be independent, telling Jervis that she couldn't stay with him anymore and would be moving to America. When Jervis came home after his night shift, he was met with only a letter, and no Alice. He missed several weeks of school and almost failed his degree because he fell into a depressive spiral and almost went insane trying to track his sister, but to no avail. Defeated, he finished his studies, and lived the next few years in a haze, and got an idea on how to bring Alice home when he found her.

Adult: Jervis' work was eventually noticed by a representative of Wayne Tech travelling overseas, and he was given a job at the company and a research grant. This was wonderful for him, allowing him to further develop his technology and perfect it. He accepted the position, and moved to the US, finally arriving in Gotham City. There, he continued his experiments, slowly figuring out how to electronically control animals, and, theoretically, humans. He pitched his idea as a way to better train animals and keep them in line, but his secret goal was to control people, mainly, his sister. He even entered a relationship with a woman named Alisson Graves, who was the only person he told about his intentions to control people. Unbeknownst to him, Alice was living in Gotham City as a freelance photographer, having changed her name to Alice Pleasance.

Turning Point: The moment Jervis found out about Alice was when she was hired to do a photo op by Bruce Wayne. Jervis had recently made a breakthrough in his research and Bruce had wanted to give him his recognition in the papers. However when he recognized the photographer, and she recognized him, it was like a light switched in his brain. He got to finally talk to her after all these years, and they appeared to be on good terms, and even agreed to meet and catch up outside of work. He prepared some special mind control cards and hid them on his person, just in case, as he was desperate for this to go right. He even planted cards on some civilians wishing for his dinner with her to go as perfectly as possible. However when the question was brought up, Alice expressed no interest in going home with Jervis or being as close as they once were, and something in him broke. He begged for her to consider it, and when she tried to leave, he carded her, promising to keep her safe. He took her and Alisson to his office, which he refurbished into a Wonderland themed nightmare, and had one last tea party before he planned to return to England, trying to relive their precious childhoods. Batman defeated his mind controlled goons and stopped him, damaging his hat and inadvertently causing the tech to malfunction, leaving Alisson in a coma and freeing Alice from his control. She ran away and he gave chase, having now fully lost his mind. She refused to entertain his delusions, which pushed him to the edge of insanity, and he lashed out, pushing her out of a window and to her death. Jervis was swiftly apprehended and put on trial, and was sent to Arkham Asylum after pleading insanity.

Hatter Era: As the Mad Hatter, Jervis only fell deeper and deeper into madness, using his technology to commit crimes and fight against Batman. He blamed him for his sister's death for many years, and worked with many other Rogues to finally take him out, though he couldn't care less about his identity. He wanted his head, which eventually just turned into seeking out his cowl. About a decade into his career he entered a romantic relationship with Jonathan Crane, aka the Scarecrow, a relationship he would treasure for the rest of his life.

Retired: When overexposure to his mind-altering technology began to severely impact his life and his mobility, Jervis lost a lot of the function in his legs and realized he couldn't sustain this lifestyle. He gave recovering an earnest shot, and after much effort and struggling, he was released from Arkham Asylum and turned his life around. Some would say too little too late, but Jervis wanted to live out the rest of his life in peace with his husband. He and Jonathan left Gotham together and went to live in a quaint farmhouse, spending the rest of their time together in peace and leading simple lives until Jervis' dying day.

[written-in-ash]

A prompt :

“Sometimes... When you’re asleep... I look at you and my mind drifts to what our future holds. And I think I fall more in love with you.”

His Inevitable Truth

Hermione was wholly and entirely terrifying. Now, as her look of disappointed rage was unjustly trained on him, he wondered why he ever bothered to save her from that troll back in first year, anyway. Harry had the urge to tell her that, but he wouldn’t, of course. He didn’t want to die.

“You told her you would Floo her, Harry. If you had no intention of doing that, why did you say you would?”

It was their weekly pub night. A night that was supposed to be full of laughter and joy, dancing and snogging. Unfortunately for Harry, absolutely none of this seemed to be happening for him.

While Draco was off dancing with some black-haired, muscled, stupid, idiotic prat, he was boxed between Ron and Blaise with Hermione across from him. She was making no attempt to conceal how much she’d like to skin him alive, which ruined the carefree vibe in their small booth at the back of the pub.

It wasn’t his fault, really. The girl Hermione set him up with had been too happy, too friendly, and her hair was utterly too brown. Blaise chuckled, and Hermione’s eyes reignited when he relayed that particular information.

Ron snorted and ruffled Harry’s hair, trying to ease the palpable tension between his best friend and wife. “So lemme, guess,” Ron said, red cheeks flushed from one too many pints, “you want a blonde prat whose skills in sarcasm are unmatched?”

Harry opened his mouth to state that yes, in fact, that was precisely what he wanted. But then he realized the implications of that statement and swiftly shut his mouth.

Hermione shot Ron an inscrutable look, and suspicion mounted in Harry’s chest. “What do you know?” Harry asked eyes narrowed and mouth firm.

Blaise nudged him from the other side and raised his stupid perfect eyebrows. “No, Harry. What do you know?”

Harry glanced at Draco, who was now grinding unapologetically on the Stupid Prat. Jealousy curled in his gut, and he had half a mind to deck the idiot for even thinking about touching Draco, much less actually doing it. Draco was Harry’s, even if he didn’t know it yet.

And really, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Harry had thought that his love for Draco was a well-kept secret between himself and — well, himself.

But it was hard to control the flush that ran up the back of his neck every time Draco so much as existed in his general vicinity. The stuttering and general idiotic behavior were merely other symptoms of Draco’s unresistible charm.

Ron’s heavy-handed pat brought him out of his thoughts. “Face it, mate. You wanna shag Malfoy.”

“I do not!” Harry sputtered, slamming his pint down so hard that the liquid sloshed over the edge. It was painful to note that not only was he now in possession of less beer, he also was really, really bad at lying.

Three pairs of raised eyebrows bore down on him until he felt almost forced to respond. He opened his mouth to deny the accusation once more, but Hermione reminded him that she had the right to deny Harry his status as Godfather to soon-to-be-born little Rosie.

“Okay, okay,” he groaned and placed his face in his hands to hide the blush that was beginning to spread across his cheeks. He took a breath and tried to find the words to articulate his feelings. “It’s just… he always comes over to my flat every Saturday after pub night and changes into those stupid green silk pajamas that he keeps at my house. You know the ones with his initials sewn on the breast pocket? Anyway, he looks absolutely brilliant in them. All we do is watch Muggle films, but I can hardly pay attention because he’s just so beautiful that I want to—”

He paused to breathe. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as a small smile graced his lips. “It started during eighth year, and we just— we never stopped. Most of the time, he falls asleep on my couch, and sometimes— sometimes when he is asleep, I kind of just look at him, and my mind drifts to what our future could hold. You know, if he just— just returned my feelings. It feels like every moment that I’m around him, I just fall more and more, and there’s literally nothing I can do to stop it.”

He was breathless by the time he finished, heart skipping a beat and eyes closed. He’s admitted that he was in love with Draco once before, but that was in front of a mirror, and Harry cringed so hard he felt like he would die if he were to ever do it again.

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes only to be confronted with three pairs of eyes blinking owlishly at him, mouths agape. Ron and Hermione shared a look before blinding smiles enveloped their faces, and Blaise laughed out loud.

“Goddamn it, you’re in love with him,” Ron murmured.

“Well, I— yeah?” Harry was confused; wasn’t that what they were talking about?

Hermione reached across the table, grabbing Harry’s balled fist in her soft hands; all former ire melted away. “Oh, Harry. We thought you just wanted a shag! We didn’t know you were in love!”

“Have you been pining for three years, mate? That’s kind of pathe— Ouch!” Blaise abruptly leaned down below the table to rub his shins, presumably where Hermione had just kicked him.

“Harry,” Blaise hesitantly tried again, gaze trained on Hermione, “you know he loves you too?”

Harry scoffed and looked back at Draco talking to Stupid Prat by the bar. Draco was shaking his head, and the man looked annoyed but started walking away. Draco turned to approach their booth.

Just before Draco made it back to their table, Ron whispered, “He never pulls Harry, do you notice that? He always goes home with you. Why do you think that is?”

Harry opened his mouth to let countless other explanations pour out of his mouth, but Draco’s relaxed drawl beat him to it. “James Bond tonight, Harry?” he asked.

Harry smiled, the inevitable flush staining his cheeks once. “Again?”

“Always.” Draco held out his hand to help Harry out of the booth, and Harry took it.

Hello, Anon! I tweaked the prompt just a little! Hope you don’t mind. This took a long time and I’m not satisfied, but here it is! Hope you enjoy! 🤍

[estamba]

She had had the world...well, a world at least, and lost it.

Everything she wanted. A safe, secluded space filled with beings that she and her God had created and formed to be her librarians and companions. Sometimes a mist wanderer would come through--but the occasional company and knowing full well she could expel them at her whim was not a bother. She had read and she had written and she had been content in chronicling her God and his movements.

And then darkness. She should have, by all rights, been terrified. But she had been born into darkness and it was only through her own hard work and the help of her God she had achieved the bright in-between she had made her home. A return to the darkness was...unexpected, troubling....but not terrifying, even as her twisted children and her books slipped through her hands and all sank into the void. It would have been easy, restful even, to stay there. Things would have been over, a finite end to questions--but to leave without so much as an explanation to Isambard? A high priestess could not so easily abandon her duties, even for a fellowship of one.

So she did not fade into nothingness alongside her books and her librarians and her little world. She fought and fell and woke to familiar sounds and smells. Of salt water and the bumbling cooing of a Quaggan. A while later, days, maybe weeks, found her nestled in the corner of the Inn at For Mariner, clean at the least, her pale hair whisping into soft curls, wearing soft shoes and pants under a rather too large purple shirt that had been belted at the waist, with a mug of tea in hand, listening to those around her. Soft words and falling back on old fortune telling skills from the streets of Divinity's Reach--along with no small amount of pity she was sure--had gained her a bed and enough to eat while she considered the situation she found herself in now.

She had lost all but...this was not the first time. She doubted it would be the last. No, indeed who should arrive at her table but her own Gods’ estranged kin? Asking for her help. Well...asking for one who could help mend a broken mind with a deep dedication to truth. It would have served him better if she still believed in Kormir as a benevolent being instead of selfish and uncaring...but she would not turn him away. Not for his sake. He had all the admirers and fawn devotion a man could hope for--but for the sake of his kinswoman who had placed herself between the world and Jormag among so many others and suffered now for it. So set aside was her inherent dislike for the man. Not that he had ever done anything to merit her ire other than existing as he was. Alluring, intoxicating to be around, like little golden strings coiled around one’s fingers and wrists and drew them closer. It was deeply unsettling. Today though he was on his best behavior...open, calmed, restrained, she suspected for her sake. It did not go unappreciated nor unrewarded. So she took his hand and let him take her from the Inn and outward--stopping of course for a fresh set of gloves.

[ddarker-dreams]

Wouldn’t It Be Nice. Yan Jotaro x Reader [COMM]

warnings: isolation mentions, very brief and minor injury ment, just general yandere stuff word count: 2.1k

“We’re here.” 

You let out a low hum of acknowledgement at Jotaro’s statement, lifting your head from its previous position of resting against the car window. It’s bright and early in the morning, the sun just starting to peak up over the clouds, bathing the world in a soft glow of warm colors. Jotaro turns the keys, the engine’s purring dying down into a final sputter. Throughout the drive from the hotel you’re staying in, you’ve been in and out of sleep, not used to being up bright and early. Normally your repetitive days blend together like watercolors, faint and indescribable from each other. This serves to be a new palette, an opportunity to see the world with your own eyes. 

Ignoring the dull ache from your legs, you step onto solid ground and stretch. Jotaro’s preoccupied with opening the car trunk, gathering his equipment and the few items you wanted to bring along. An umbrella, beach chair, towel, and some books to read. You fiddle with hands, shifting your weight as silence encompasses you both. He doesn’t so much as struggle with all the heavy items in hand, but the part of you that feels polite feels inclined to offer assistance. 

“Do you, uh, need any help with that…?” You inquire, taking a step forward and preparing to reach out should he agree. Aquamarine eyes flicker towards your clumsy proposal, searching for something unknown and coming up short. As you expect, he turns you down with a decisive shake of the head. It’s impossible to quell the curiosity of knowing what flashes through his mind, his body language hardly ever giving hints to his intentions, aside from taut muscles and grimaces.

“I’ve got it.” 

His tone isn’t meant to sound harsh, it’s just how his voice naturally sounds. You still can’t control the natural reflex of shrinking away at his rebuttal, an uncomfortable silence drowning over you both. He pauses for a brief moment, staring you down, parting his lips before closing them. Time feels like it’s at a stand still, until his attention returns to the awaiting beach. Neither of you make any further attempts at conversation, you trailing a foot behind him as he walks onto the sand. The tension from before melts from your person at the sight of soothing ocean waves, the ground underneath you growing softer, nostalgia coming in full force.

He sets up your area before getting to work on his own tasks, steadying the umbrella in the sand and unfolding the beach chair. You mutter a quiet thank you as he places the finishing touches down, a cooler that had water and sandwiches for if you needed them. The details of this trip are still largely muddled, Jotaro never has been one to over indulge his business. All you managed to squeeze out of him is that he’s taking samples, something about plankton and checking on the local ecosystem. The jargon went over your head. What matters most is that, after being on your best behavior, you’ve earned a trip outside of your normally reclusive lifestyle. Anything is better than having to stare at the same four walls everyday, trying to reminisce on what your life was like before you met Jotaro Kujo.

“I won’t be too long.” Jotaro calls over to you, walking towards the receding waves and setting off to work. You nod your head, settling back into your seat. The beach you’ve arrived at has no other signs of life, aside from seagulls calling to one another and the occasional crab you spot. Human beings are out of the question, Jotaro likely having chosen this spot for the lack of them. He can’t always keep an eye on you, no matter how much he wants to. Having him stuck to your hip like glue has been suffocating, and you’re grateful for the break. 

Staying within the confines of the shade the umbrella brings, your mind drifts into a land of daydreams. The world around you fades away, replaced with thoughts of better times. Where you didn’t have to constantly be on guard, around a man who claimed to care for you, despite rarely showcasing it. Your quality of life improved the slightest bit when you stopped acting combative towards him, taking a more passive approach to get through the days. Jotaro didn’t change his conduct around you much, aside from a few offerings to travel alongside him if his job required going to a secluded area. These opportunities are few and far between, and you always jump at the chance to see the world you were stolen from again. 

Preoccupied with your thoughts, you’re unaware of a presence lingering over you, until something wet and slippery drops onto your leg. A startled gasp leaves your lips at the unexpected sensation, your body jolting up to identify the source of the feeling. Eyebrows furrowing together, you spot Jotaro wading in the ocean, bending over and observing different objects. So where did this come from…? Squinting, you continue searching around, before spotting Star Platinum staring at you expectantly. 

Oh. So that’s what’s going on here.

Now having a better understanding of the situation, you realize the item on your thighs is a bunch of seaweed. Cold droplets of water fall onto your skin, causing a shiver to course throughout your body. He hovers above you, eyes almost doe-like as he excitedly searches for a positive response to his gift. Lazily rubbing away the sleepiness that threatens to consume you, you pluck the seaweed up to inspect it closer. You’re not sure what led the Stand to giving you this bizarre gift, but decide to thank him for the effort regardless. He’s never given a reason to earn your ire, a friendlier companion than his own User.

“Thank you,” you glance from his gift and then back to him, placing the seaweed by your side for safekeeping. “So, this is for me?” 

He nods his head, offering a soft “ora!” in excited confirmation. Star Platinum doesn’t make any movements to disappear, and you can only assume Jotaro has no idea his Stand is wandering about on its own merit. The first -- and likely last -- time that you surprised Jotaro was when he realized you could see his Stand, having a Stand of your own. Ever since then, he’s made it a point not to allow Star Platinum around you, for whatever reasons. There’s no way to confirm the gnawing suspicion that it’s because he’s embarrassed by how enthusiastic the Stand is in your presence, though it’s the theory you go with.

You realize in the time spent searching for a plausible explanation, Star Platinum had been gathering more knick knacks. Settled in his muscular, phantom arms, are various objects that litter the beach. Seashells, sea glass, and a few colorful rocks. The one item that sticks out to you the most, is a very peeved looking hermit crab, its legs flailing in the air. 

“Star, you have to put that little guy down. I think he’s wondering why he’s floating…” You sit up, pointing at the huffy hermit crab. The Stand blinks, considering your proposal, then concedes with your wishes. If only Jotaro were this agreeable, your life might be a bit better. With surprising care, he places the crab back onto the sand, then looks back to you. Is he hoping to be praised for following through with your request? Tilting your head to the side, he mimics the movement. 

“What else did you find?” While you ask this, you cross your legs together, waving for the Stand to come closer. He does so without hesitation, dumping the treasures in front of you. You search through the combination of items, fixating on a pretty, amethyst sea glass. It feels coarse in your hands. You inspect it, a rougher side of it managing to nick your finger in the process. Dropping the item at the unexpected jolt of pain, a small curse leaves your lips. Star Platinum floats to your hand, frantically taking hold of your hand. 

“It’s all good,” you reassure him with a sheepish smile. “Just a small cut. It won’t do too much damage.” 

Star Platinum doesn’t appear convinced, fawning over your effected finger with great displeasure. This serves as further reinforcement that he’s Jotaro’s soul manifest, as they both worry over you the same amount. Star Platinum doesn’t look to be convinced by you. Larger, ghost-like hands envelope your own. It’s strange how a Stand so powerful is capable of showing a softer side, only for your eyes. You can’t help the fluttering of your heart at its potent concern, not used to being fussed over having physical touch accompanying it. Jotaro will chastise you should you ever do something to displease him, without laying a hand on you. Star Platinum is different in that regard, taking every opportunity he has to touch you.

“Here, how about this,” you grab into your bag, procuring a book that Jotaro bought at your behest. “I can still hold it, see? It’s not a big deal at all.” 

Not wanting the Stand’s guilt to transfer over to the User, your mind searches for a way to mend the situation. This time without Jotaro breathing down your neck is to be relished, you won’t let it end earlier than it needs to. Opening back up to the page you left off on, you motion for Star Platinum to look over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to read for you?” You ask, taken aback by how swiftly he nods his head in confirmation. This wholehearted approach to life is so unlike Jotaro, you sometimes wonder how this can be his Stand. It’s in total contrast to the man’s stoic, seemingly dispassionate way of going throughout life. Maybe you’ll ask if you can interact with Star Platinum more often, with how eager he is to please you, it can be a bit addicting. Your own Stand is stirring within, though you don’t want to let it out in fear of how it may be interpreted. Revealing your Stand is often associated with trying to use it, and knowing Jotaro, would be taken as a sign of rebellion. Maintaining the delicate balance that consists of your turbulent relationship with Jotaro takes priority. 

“Well, this story is about a girl who has a ghost, and lives in a town full of them. Unlike Stands though, her ghost is haunting her, and tells her people’s thoughts…” 

Jotaro secures the final amount of samples required for testing, having just finished the checklist he was assigned. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sets back to shore, thinking about the plans for the rest of the day. You’re probably going to be hungry by the time he gets back. Maybe a visit to a restaurant wouldn’t be so bad…? It’s been over half a year since you’ve made a fuss over your situation, and he hopes it stays that way. Jotaro is uncertain of what to do when you’re crying, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions that came with your initial resistance. He decides that going around that many people is too much of a risk, you’ll both get room service when you’re back at the hotel.

He doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at first. That is, until he spots his own Stand hovering right by your side, bewitched by your every word. Jotaro clicks his tongue, calling Star Platinum back, pushing down his hat to hide the flush of his cheeks. When did his Stand come out, and how did he not notice? Internally, he prays that Star didn’t do anything unsightly in front of you. At his appearance by your side, you stop reading aloud your book, realizing that Jotaro must be the reason Star Platinum disappeared. 

Frowning, you close the book. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.” 

“I finished up here,” he doesn’t want to talk about the flustering events from before, already bringing the umbrella down without asking if you’re ready to leave. “We can go get breakfast.” 

At the mention of a solid meal, you shoot up, thinking of what you’re going to order. Jotaro’s grateful for how well he knows you, and how adept he’s grown at redirecting you. It’s a most useful skill, not that you ever seem interested in teasing him. Without thinking, he hands you the container that holds his samples, hoping it’ll serve to keep your attention. 

It works like a charm, you asking about the nature of the water samples on the walk back to the car. 

[literaturereviewhelp]

Experimental research is one of the most effective methods of conducting a social scientific investigation. Apart from placing variables to test cause and effect relationships, experiments also allow the researcher to have full control over the subject that is being observed. The use of experiments in the research area of international relations could be of great value. Firstly, its frequent use as a methodological tool will challenge the old ways of investigation in the field. Secondly, it will bridge the gap of inquiry between many subfields within this discipline. For example, experiments could bring new insights into public policy and its effect in foreign affairs. Apart from generating new knowledge into the field, it is also important to acknowledge the limitations that experiments pose in the research process. For instance, the generalizability of the results gained from it could be limited as the scope of research is usually conducted on a micro level (Halperin & Heath 2012: 197). Questions like if the results of a voting behavior in one province of a country can be generalized throughout many countries in the region. The article by Natalie Hudson and Michael Butler titled “The State of Experimental Research in IR: An Analytical Survey” firstly presents the scope of using experiment as a research methodology in social science and then evaluates the function that it plays in contributing to the field of international relations. To achieve this, the authors discuss its contribution as playing a role in searching for facts, testing or theory building and creating valuable knowledge for the exercise of foreign policy. Also, they provide an explanation of how the use of this research technique can build bridges not only between similar disciplines as such but also within similar sub fields and research methodologies like comparative research. As part of their conclusion, the authors predict the potential growth areas in the field of international relations with the help of experiments. For example, experiments could be used to determine whether and how rogue states would behave in a situation of crisis. The function then the experiment has is to uncover the cause and effect relationship leading to a pattern of social behavior. Research question Reflecting the usefulness and the limitations of experiments alongside evaluating the text of Hudson and Butler, the research question of this paper is “How can experiment as a research methodology fulfil the aims of social scientific investigation”. The rest of this paper will forge an analysis by reflecting on different issues in political research to answer the question. The question is significant in the field of international relations because it will not only open the discussion of whether experiments could be used as a mainstream method in international studies but will also help us look into the areas of research which has been insufficiently investigated (Halperin & Heath 2012: 133). Discussion One of the main aims of a social scientific inquiry is to produce knowledge and objective facts that will not only help to solve real world problems but will also produce other similar questions that will spearhead further political investigation. Similarly, the work of a social scientific inquiry is to also “further the goals of a scientific literature” (Halperin & Heath 2012). The subfields of international relations are constantly growing in areas like Cognitive Psychology, Anthropology, Socio-biology and comparative politics. Read the full article

[ct-7386]

Beans are Spilled

[So, I mentioned this in another post, but I copy-paste threads to a gdoc so that I can keep track of the story, write more coherent responses, and go back and reread at my leisure. Please go read that post, because I'm also using it as a general disclaimer for all the completed threads I'll post as oneshots. If you've reacted to that post, thank you ^^ I've had so much fun with everyone.

Anyway, here is the first thread - both chronologically and the first thread I was a part of.

Please keep in mind that this will have an odd flow to it bc it was written by two people, each writing as their own character. I've done my best to edit for basic mistakes, but otherwise everything is as we wrote it originally.

Authors: myself and @cc1010fox Characters: Commander Fox (them); CT-7386, Commander Stone, Corporal Cory (all me) Rating: T TW: mentions of suicide; depicted depression and anxiety; clones bullying each other; referenced reconditioning and decommissioning

If I forgot any warnings, please let me know ^^

Thank you!]

Commander Stone comms:

"Sir, I have a situation down in Lock Up. Two of our troopers got into a fight with each other, and they won't tell me anything. I know you're busy prepping for that upcoming gala, but..." His grimace is audible, and his volume drops slightly. "I have a feeling this won't be pretty. Can you spare any time for this osik, sir?"

Vod drama sounds like it might be just what he needs to break himself out of the monotony of his current work, so he decides it can't hurt. "I'm on my way." It takes a short while on foot, but he needs the exercise and to expend the energy he, like his vode, was created to have. When he arrives, he's let through without much hassle. After all, he's easily recognizable. "Where's the idiots?"

Stone takes off his bucket and runs a hand over his head. He gestures at two of the holding cells. "Here, sir. When they wouldn't break it up, I had them forcibly separated and thrown in the cells." He steps forward and raps on the dome of his helmet. "Attention, men!"

The clones in each cell snap-to, each with their bucket set to the side on the uncomfortable looking cots.

"Because of your ridiculous behavior, Commander Fox has deigned to address this problem himself." His eyes are narrowed, but there's a tightness around them that betrays his quiet worry. It's just not normal for there to be in-fighting among the older troops.

"With everything the Coruscant Guard has to deal with, you want to add each other to that list?" Fox barks, his tone every bit the reason his men stand at attention when he enters the room. "Who here is going to tell me what's going on first? Because you're both going to, or I'll have you working in such close quarters you won't have a choice but to learn to get along."

The clone in the cell to the right instantly bristles and tenses.

"Work with it?!" He gestures to the wall that separates them. "This shabuir, aruetii, vod-killer!?!"

The entire room stills.

It stills indeed. A vod betraying their own is nigh unheard of, especially in the Coruscant Guard. All they have is each other. Most won't even speak against a vod to save their own lives, even when wrongfully accused.

Fox eventually breaks the silence, looking to the accused, but not speaking to him. His gaze is suspicious, untrusting. Do they have a vod-killer among them? "Those are some heavy accusations, vod. Explain yourself."

The trooper in question stands stiff and almost unnaturally still, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes hyper-focused on Fox's lower face.

"... It was," he finally grits out, "information shared in confidence - a mistake, apparently, and no one's business but my own. Sir. Corporal Cory" - the other trooper, then - "holds a personal grudge against me, and today it interfered with my duties. Not only has he betrayed the trust I had in him, but he could have put the lives of every trooper present at risk."

Corporal Cory looks ready to throw himself at the energy barrier in the door to his cell to confront the yet-unnamed trooper. He is livid. "I betrayed your trust? What about the trust of your vode, huh? What about the ones you -"

At the last second he bites back his words - a surprising show of restraint, given the situation. And yet, every vod in the room feels chills at what the corporal has just implied.

The unnamed trooper swallows and closes his eyes briefly as if to gather himself. "I confronted Corporal Cory," he says quietly, "about his actions. Our argument got... heated. That's when Commander Stone was forced to intervene. Sir."

There's a tired sort of anguished resignation that hangs over the trooper. He's willing to accept whatever his punishment will be if it will keep him from having to relive the past all over again. He just hopes everyone will leave well enough alone.

"You're glossing over pertinent information, trooper," Fox tells him, his tone holding a warning. "Did you kill a vod? Do I need to worry about my men around you?" It's clear he's dodging the subject, but Fox's aim is better than most. He always keeps his eye on the target.

While he may view the vod as a danger currently, there's still no question he would protect him. Vod-killer or not, he's one of the Coruscant Guard, one of them. He just has to know what to do with him, like separate him from the others if necessary.

The look of anguish intensifies for a brief moment before the trooper replaces it with a blank mask. "The only danger I pose is to myself, sir. As for the pertinent information..."

He grinds his jaw, frantically searching for a way to answer the indirect order while maintaining some dignity.

"It was on Kamino," he says at last, voice painfully small; he seems to fold slightly in on himself, as if the weight of his words is almost too much. The trooper swallows. His voice is slightly ragged as he finishes, "It was a - a mercy kill."

There's a moment where the air echoes with the silence, and then he's straightening once again wearing that mask.

"With all due respect, sir, it was a long time ago and has no bearing on the current situation or my performance as a soldier of the Republic. Corporal Cory took the few facts he had and blew them out of proportion." The corporal does look a little guilty. "I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary for my actions, sir, and for lying by omission, but I request that you not alter my duties in any way. I'm the only clone with my specific qualifications, sir, and my skills are needed in the Senate building almost constantly. On top of that, there are still a couple senators I need to contact to finish smoothing over the ruffled feathers the corporal caused with his... overreaction earlier."

A mercy kill. Questions need to be asked, specifically whether or not the deceased vod requested his "mercy". Otherwise, it was unforgivable, merciful or not. It would be merciful to kill them all, to put them all out of their misery, but it's their choice whether they live or die. Most would rather live so they wouldn't have to be replaced by another innocent vod. They survive and fight through the osik for each other.

Fox wants to ask the question where the others can hear the answer, hoping it will clear it all up, but--

"Senators?" His ire is turned on the other trooper. "You started a fight in front of senators? Do you have any idea what danger you put us all in? Fresher duty. A month's worth. If I hear one complaint, I'll extend it another month." Fox needs the senators to feel safe around them, not wonder when the unstable brutes will snap. The more on edge they are around them, the more likely they will be to have them reconditioned for the tiniest mishaps.

Somewhat surprisingly, the unnamed trooper hesitates slightly and shifts in place. "With - With all due respect, sir, Corporal Cory knows better than to start a fight in front of the senators. He just - I'm a translator, sir, and the corporal interfered with my work and nearly caused a diplomatic incident without really understanding what it was he was doing. I confronted him because he knows better than to interfere with my work yet did it anyway because of our petty rivalry. He didn't - He didn't mean to, not really."

“He knew what he was doing. He knew the senators were there.” It is, however, reassuring that he’s trying so hard to protect a vod. There is definitely more to his background than he’s made known.

The trooper straightens. “Understood, sir. And my punishment?”

He knows he played his own part in this debacle. There were ways he could have deescalated the situation sooner; he could have requested a transfer to another squad when Cory became a problem months ago; he could have not started a fight with Cory afterwards - hell, he could have not told Cory anything. That would have been a fantastic idea.

And now - Now he’ll feel obligated to go to Commander Fox, a man he has barely seen since being stationed with the Guard, and explain this all to him against his own better judgement. What a kriffing disaster.

"An explanation. Whether your past affects your work with the Guard is up to me, not you. Do you understand? We can discuss it in private." Besides, from what he can tell, Cory started the fight, not the other vod.

Fox gestures to his cell, a silent order to release him so they can go elsewhere. He obviously doesn't want to divulge what happened to the others.

Commander Stone follows the silent order and presses a button on his vambrace, and the barrier in the trooper's cell disappears.

The trooper himself snaps a slightly shaky salute. "Yes, sir!" He turns and tucks his bucket under his arm and steps out of his cell, very deliberately not looking at any of the other vode in the room. Then he walks to stand in front of Fox, waiting to be led to - what he sees as - his inevitable doom.

"To my office, trooper. March," Fox orders. In his office, they can't be monitored by curious members of the Guard. At least there's no one in the building brave enough to press their ear to his door.

The trooper quickly marches out of the room, all-too aware of the Commander behind him. He leads the way briskly down the halls all the way to Commander Fox's office where he waits at the door.

His own professional, yet more casual, stride beside him tells witnesses that the trooper is in trouble, a walk of shame. At his door, Fox relieves him of that humiliation, "At ease..." before he opens the door.

Once inside, Fox pries the helmet from his head and sets it on his desk. He then seats himself behind the desk and gestures to the chairs opposite his own. "Have a seat. What's your name, trooper? Do you have one yet?" Not every clone has a name. Sometimes, they're just too attached to their designations and, other times, they just haven't found the right one.

He takes a seat but hesitates to answer the question. "I..." The trooper swallows and looks down at the helmet in his lap. "I go by my designation, sir. CT-7386, or sometimes just 86. I gave up any right I had to a name back on Kamino. I don't -" His voice drops almost to a pained whisper, and he sort of starts to curl around his bucket. "I don't deserve one after what I did."

This vod is not a cold-blooded killer, nor does Fox believe he has it in him to kill a vod without being coerced into it by that vod. The guilt is clearly eating him up inside. The ori'vod, which is what he is to most of his vode, in Fox is making him want to comfort him. He resists the urge to hug him, but not to use his words. "What happened, 86? Look at you, vod. You need to tell someone..."

His eyes snap up to Fox, wide and terrified. "Sir, I - I can't. You would - You would never look at me the same, sir. I'm already isolated from the rest of the Guard, already defective, and now they know -"

86 shudders and curls even tighter around his bucket as if for comfort. It was an order, he reminds himself. This is my punishment, so I just gotta take it. He forces himself to open his mouth and begin speaking even though he refuses to straighten and look at the Commander. 86 doesn't want to see the disgust in Fox's eyes.

"We - We were an experimental batch, sir. The Kaminiise wanted to see what would happen if they tried enhancing our senses beyond perfect hearing and 20/20 vision. Only, because they'd never done it before, a lot went wrong, and they kept us mostly isolated from the others in order to keep studying us."

His breath hitches slightly, and he tightens his grip on his bucket.

"Not all of us survived. We were down to six by the time we learned only I would ever be deployed, the others kept in the labs. And we couldn't - We were afraid. We didn't want to live like that, didn't want to be test subjects, didn't want to live that waking nightmare anymore. So 7301, our second youngest, he came up with this - this crazy plan: stage an accident that would kill us. Only - Only we needed one to stay alive so that someone would remember we had ever existed. They chose -" His voice breaks, and his eyes burn. "They chose me, because I was the only one who could be reassigned and deployed. So I - I sabotaged the program on our training deck. I killed them - all of them."

As he listens, he tries to put himself in 86’s place. The pain he would have felt, not only from the experimentation, but from watching his vode suffer too.

As far as clones go, Fox has always been privileged, selected for the ARC training program, encouraged to embrace his individuality, and given power over his vode. It might be hard at times, but he’s never been experimented on extensively or used as cannon fodder.

Still, he knows what it’s like to suffer, to want to be free from his suffering, and what it’s like to love his brothers so much he’s willing to endure anything for them. If his vode came to him, in pain, desperate for release from this life, would he kill them?

…Yes.

He leans over his desk, that little bit closer to his vod. “You didn’t kill them…You set them free…”

86 laughs bitterly. “Freed them - and enslaved the next poor bastards the Kaminiise decided to continue the experiments on. I know there were others who ‘benefited’ from the results we produced. Freed them?”

Another laugh, though this one he chokes on. He finally looks up, revealing the tears rolling down his cheeks and the absolutely broken look in his eyes.

“That’s not what the ghosts in my head say.”

"Yeah, well, those ghosts aren't your vode. They are thankful." As much as he would love to lay a hand on his vod's shoulder to comfort him, he stays put and lets the sympathy show in his eyes alone.

"You're not responsible for what the Kaminiise do..."

86 shakes his head and scrubs the tears from his face. "I know that logically, but that will never change the fact that my batch was killed by their ori'vod." He sniffs a little and straightens. "Is there anything else you'd like to know, sir?"

"Like they wanted," he insists. It was almost cruel of them to ask 86 to do it, leaving him to live with the crushing guilt. He wasn't handling it well at all. "We don't have any licensed therapists in the Guard, but our medics are willing and able to act as one if you need them to. You also have me. You've really twisted it in your head to make yourself a bad guy when you're not." It's the pot calling the kettle black, and Fox can't see it.

His next huff is supposed to be bitter again, but it comes out just so tired. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve been with the Guard just as long as you have - you’re only a dozen or so batches older than I am, even. This begs a couple questions.”

86’s eyes harden just slightly, more in suspicion and vague distrust than actual anger.

“First, don’t think I haven’t seen just how hard you are on yourself, so, with respect, don’t ask me to do something you wouldn’t. I know exactly how responsible you feel for all of us, and even though I could never imagine the amount of work you’re doing, I know it’s way worse than any of my own problems.

“Second, I’ve managed this long just fine. It took a vod betraying my trust and then having to admit my recurring nightmares under duress for anyone to give a kriff. I don’t see what will change now that I’ve bared my soul.” Okay, that might have come out just a little upset.

“And finally, again with all due respect, but -” His walls once again crumble, eyes bright with tears he refuses to shed, voice hitching with the raw emotion held back purely by strength of will, “why has no one cared before?”

Before Commander Fox can answer, 86 is holding up a hand to stop him.

“No. No, I’m sorry. That -” He swallows, blinks away the shine in his eyes. “I know you’re busy. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I know everyone else is busy too. And I work every day in the Senate Building with no one except the natborns; the only time I see vode is when I come back to HQ to sleep.” 86 laughs incredulously. “I don’t - I don’t even know who the medics are? I don’t” - He blinks, brow scrunched in mild confusion and distress. “I don’t think I’ve been to the medbay since our mandatory exams when we were first stationed here…”

Fox doesn't tolerate much blatant disrespect, but he knows what 86 is going through at the moment. When emotions take hold, they're uncontrollable, torturous, until they're finally unleashed like a violent storm. It always ends the same, always. The tears come, shining in his vod's eyes. Again, he's assaulted with the nearly irresistible urge to hold him through it. That isn't Fox, though. He can't risk that sort of bond only for it to be broken by their rank imbalance.

"With all due respect, vod...which is every ounce I've shown you, when was the last time you told anyone the whole story? You hide your pain so well, apparently better than I do," he chuckles, a tinge of bitterness to his laughter, "so how was anyone supposed to know you were suffering? Let your vode know. They will care. They will support you.

If you don't mind, I'd like to recommend our CMO, Paws...and my personal "therapist", Thorn." Yes, he does talk to someone, as much as he's comfortable doing so at least. It helps that they're married in the Mandalorian tradition. "They're both more understanding than you ever thought a vod could be. No matter what you tell them, they'll try to see it from your point of view."

86 blinks, eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry, sir,” he stammers, head ducking in shame. If Fox is talking to someone… maybe he should, too. “If you think this is what’s best, I’ll - I can try.”

He worries at his bottom lip with his teeth while he thinks.

"I think... I think I can try talking to Paws? I - I know I need to visit medbay soon, anyway. This one senator -" He stops himself. "Maybe a story better saved for Paws," he mumbles. Yeah. Yeah, he can see what Fox means about talking to someone.

He inhales deeply, closing his eyes and centering himself before releasing the air slowly and steadily.

"I've never told anyone the whole story. Corporal Cory was... He's in my squad. I had a nightmare and woke him up a couple months ago. When he asked me about it, I was... I was shaken." He's ashamed of it, really, but nothing can be changed now. “Without thinking I admitted it was about my batch and how I’d caused their deaths, but that was it. He - He blew everything out of proportion. So, yeah. No one really - really knows.”

Another measured in-out of breath.

“And you’re wrong, sir: I don’t hide my pain all that well.” 86’s smile is wry, his tone self-deprecating. “It seems I’m just really good at hiding myself.” He swallows. “I know I’m not around the vode a lot just by nature of my duties, but - I could have made more of an effort to reach out to them.” He can - He can maybe still try. Maybe. Just - later. When he can think about this all clearly.

Once again he squares his shoulders and straightens. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask, sir? Or have I fulfilled the parameters of my punishment adequately?”

“There’s one last thing I’d like you to try… A mediated conversation between you and Cory. I know he was cruel, but think about what he thinks you did. It’s unheard of. He’s shocked. If he just knew…” he tries. Cory is a vod, so he can’t be completely unreasonable, can he? Honestly, Fox wonders if anyone outside of 86’s guilt ridden mind could possibly interpret what he did as cold-blooded murder. 86 is clearly a victim in what happened too, he just didn’t have the merciful release of death after it all.

That in mind, he really admires this vod. It would be too easy to swallow his blaster, but he’s chosen to stick around and keep his position filled so another vod doesn’t have to suffer through it. After Fixit, Fox knows all of the vode who suffer with suicidal ideation have been struggling to find the strength. He knows because he’s one of them. With 86’s background, he must be so much stronger than all of them, most of which are just victims of Coruscant.

The moment 86 hears Cory's name, he tenses hard. After a long moment he grits out, "As long as you're the one to mediate, sir, I think I can do it. I still - I still wanna shoot him for that stunt he pulled in front of the senators earlier. He could have gotten all of us killed. Thankfully, the senators I was translating for were easily persuaded to ignore the incident," he grimaces.

"Here, there's a good chance he will be shot because someone hates clones so much they can't bear to see us live. You don't want to wonder if your hatred for him was petty when he's already gone, vod. Trust me." It's always the ones who were arguing with the victims that cry the most when they're gone. "I'll mediate."

86 looks away guiltily. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He hasn’t known hardly any of the vode lost to Coruscant, and it’s not exactly a lesson he wants to learn any time soon. He’ll talk to Cory. 86 looks back at the Commander. “If you’re too busy, sir, I’m sure someone else you trust can mediate. And -” He hesitates. “I think the rest of the squad should be there, too.”

“I’ll make the time. You bring whoever you’re ready to tell.” Besides, he already knows what happened, so he’ll be able to correct course if 86’s self-loathing gets in the way and he portrays himself as a heartless killer.

86 honestly feels a short rush of relief at knowing the Commander will be there. Having someone, anyone, standing next to him while he bares his soul to the most recent vode he feels he has wronged will help give him the strength he needs to get through this.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,” he hedges, “but I - They deserve to know the truth.” The truth of why I’ve basically abandoned them, too. “Just name the time and place, sir. We’ll be there.”

"Will three days be enough time for you to plan your wording?" He doesn't want to rush him, but he also wants to pull it off like an adhesive bandage. Three days just seems like a good in-between. Besides, the longer he waits, the more time he'll have to convince himself it's a bad idea. At least that's how Fox's brain works.

86 nods. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” He’ll need all the time that gives him to think of what to say.

[cruelfeline]

Agh, it got so long I had to read-more it; no one look at this; I just had to get it out of my mind, but don’t look at it just ignore this and go examine a pretty nature photo; honestly these just keep getting worse why does this keep happening? And I hate dialogue. And I hate characterization. Ugghhh... just insert a Mermista groan here.

also a more mature Catra helping Hordak on his journey provides me with happiness don’t judge me

Please consider, a concept:

A few months have passed since Prime’s demise. Reconstruction of Etheria’s damaged settlements is well underway, and all parties involved have gotten... if not entirely comfortable with one another, then at least able to interact with civility. Enough so that, when Entrapta and Bow end up delayed on one of their interplanetary trips, Hordak is only moderately uneasy about heading off to Bright Moon on his own. Oh, of course he’d rather wait for Entrapta, but certain planned meetings (dictated by Etheria’s terribly inconvenient seasons) simply cannot be delayed. So off he goes, determined to maintain decorum and dignity and uphold his end of all relevant treaties. He is received by Glimmer, Adora, and Catra. The other Princesses are all otherwise engaged (with what, he cares little, though he is admittedly amused to learn that Mermista and Perfuma are occupied with an apparently disastrous seaweed-related snafu). So it is the four of them against a whole mess of administrative work.

The girls, for their part, are equally uneasy but likewise determined to proceed as usual (Adora and Catra seeming particularly determined). They meet Hordak’s reserved politeness with a tentative poise of their own, and the group’s work commences.

And for a number of days, it goes fairly well. Even Glimmer has to admit that, whatever anyone’s misgivings about how an Entrapta-less Hordak might behave, things are running smoothly. She maintains control of the meetings, guiding them through agenda after agenda, while Adora and Catra provide input based upon their recent scouting trips to Etheria’s various corners. Hordak rounds the discussions out with whatever technological information is relevant. Their sessions run long most nights (too long, if Catra were asked her opinion on the matter, which she pointedly is not), but they are productive. The four of them get an impressive amount of work done, and all without any tense moments or uncomfortable quarrels. One might even say that they are getting along quite well, all things considered.

In fact, Catra is nearly certain that, when Adora mentions appreciating the work of some Dryl-made construction bots in a seaside village, Hordak subtly quirks his lips in what a careful observer could term a smile.

So the three girls are legitimately stunned when, about three-quarters of the way through their intended time together, Hordak’s behavior abruptly changes. His calm demeanor turns sullen and tense. Previously comprehensive explanations gain a taciturn edge, eventually devolving into clipped, half-snarled responses and sneered refusals to provide clarification. More and more often, words are accompanied by the baring of red teeth and the angry glare of red eyes. 

Glimmer is... less than pleased, but between her own determination to make this treaty work and Adora’s dogged, somewhat frantic optimism, she strives to maintain civility long enough to get through the last few days. But, well... limits are limits. And limits are surpassed when, one evening, Hordak furiously declares that he has lost patience with their “embarrassing incompetence” and, with nary another word, storms out of the conference room. 

“That’s it! How dare he?!”

Glimmer promptly explodes, and Catra spends the next few minutes watching Adora try to quiet what is proving to be a very loud, very angry, moderately uncouth Queenly rant. It is in the midst of this rant that Adora catches her eye and, with a quiet groan and a nod and a mental wish of good luck, Catra slips away with Melog silently following at her heels. 

“I guess this is better than dealing with Sparkles,” she mutters to herself as she stands at the door to Hordak’s temporary quarters. Beside her, Melog trills encouragement, and she sighs. They’re right, of course: between the two of them, Adora has more experience dealing with an upset Glimmer. And Catra... okay, so she doesn’t have “experience dealing with an upset Hordak.” Not... not good experience. But she worked with him for nearly a year. And, given what she’s seen, what she knows... she has a fair idea of what’s been happening. She’d been quietly hoping that it would work itself out, or that it wouldn’t become enough of a problem to cause trouble before they finished their work, but alas: it seems that that sort of luck just isn’t on their side.

Which, given the fact that Hordak seems to have the worst luck of anyone she knows, probably should have been something she’d seen coming.

Melog trills again, adding a gentle headbutt this time.

“Okay, okay... give me a second.”

She takes a breath, lifts a hand to knock, grimaces, and drops said hand. She clears her throat.

“Hordak?”

Nothing. She frowns and tries again.

“Hordak? Are you-”

“Leave.”

His snarl is all-too familiar, and even muffled through a door, it causes her hackles to rise, her ears to pin back, her tail to lash.

“Look, I just-”

“Go. Away.”

She grits her teeth, clenches her fists, and turns away, ready to return downstairs with nothing to show for her efforts but a bad mood. Next to her, Melog meows in protest. She rounds on them.

“What? If he wants to be a jerk about it, then that’s his problem! Besides, what am I supposed to do? Break down the door?”

And she resumes making her way back to the staircase, ignoring Melog’s continued protest (which, come to think of it, sounds fairly alarmed, but... well, what is she to do?) and... she freezes. The world around her is starting to shimmer. She knows that shimmer: teleportation via alien cat.

“Wait! I said-!”

And just like that, they’re in his room, and though Catra’s first instinct is to make her displeasure very loudly known, said instinct quickly fades at the sight of Hordak.

“Oh, damn it.”

From his place on the floor, crumpled in a sweating, trembling heap, Hordak looks up at the intrusion. His eyes widen, face twisting with fury as he prepares to shout what Catra predicts will be his trademark “get out,” only to choke up and curl in on himself as some sort of painful spasm races through him. 

Once upon a time, this sight might have spurred Catra into a bout of cruel gloating, but circumstances are vastly different today. 

Today, before either of them can really take stock of what is happening, she helps him up and half-leads, half-carries him to the corner sofa, depositing him with a strained grunt before taking a step back and giving him a moment to collect himself. Which he does while glaring at her.

For some time, the only sound between them is the ugly rasp of Hordak’s panting, then: “Get. Out.”

Ah. There it is. As expected. As anticipated. Catra’s ears flick at the command.

A part of her still bristles at his snarling, at his combative ire, at his accusatory glare... but a different part notices instead how that glare comes through dull eyes, how that snarling fades into exhausted panting, how he’s still trembling, even before his very unwanted audience. As the seconds pass, this part maintains its position at the forefront of her mind, until:

“You want some water?”

“...”

“...”

“...what?”

There’s a sudden lightness to her thoughts.

“I’m gonna get you some water. Just... stay there, okay?”

Melog punctuates her words with a happy chirp before providing the necessary teleport. A minute later, they’re back from the kitchens, glass of cool water in hand. Hordak remains where they left him, though he actually gives a bit of a start when they reappear. The momentary surprise disappears under a scowl as Catra holds the glass out to him.

He curls his lip. He doesn’t take it.

Catra remains steady. Next to her, Melog sits, tail waving a constant, slow path in the air.

Hordak bares his teeth.

“I do not require your pity, Catra.”

“Good, ‘cause all I’ve got is this glass of water.”

He gapes at her.

“Which, y’know, you should take. Because my arm is getting tired.”

His expression closes off again in another scowl (he never did see the humor in her sass, did he?), but after a few more moments, Hordak relents. Slowly, clearly trying to keep his hand from trembling too much, he takes the offered glass.

Catra sighs and, suddenly drained, sits down on the ground a few feet away from him, resting her back against the arm of the sofa. Melog stretches out beside her, and Catra turns her back to Hordak to focus on providing the desired belly rub. She swivels an ear towards him, listening for him to finish draining the glass. He does so. 

She can hear that his breath has lost that ugly rasp, and a tightness in her chest that she hadn’t been aware of loosens.

“So,” she begins, trying to keep her tone casual, “do you... need to call Entrapta? Is it... is it your-”

“Entrapta is currently beyond the reach of our communication modules.” She’d steeled herself for another snarled response, but his voice is calm, almost quiet. “And no; it is not my armor.”

“...oh.”

A minute passes. Two. Catra starts to tentatively turn around, wishing to steal a glance, but Melog thrusts their head into her lap and refocuses her gaze downwards. Another minute passes, then:

“It... it has proven somewhat...” He starts, stops, starts again. Stops again. Something that is not pain chokes his words, and though she wants to somehow encourage him, a soft rumble from Melog compels her to wait.

“Even with the armor, there are times that I... have difficulties.” He is breathing quicker again, she can hear; not quite panting, but definitely breathing quicker. In her lap, Melog seems attentive but otherwise unconcerned.

“Particularly during periods of higher stress, or exertion. Though,” he suddenly hisses, and Catra hears claws scrape against fabric, “hardly anything about our current work should merit this... exacerbation.”

He falls quiet, and for what feels like a long while, neither of them say anything. Melog’s soft purring fills the silence.

“Sparkles is mad,” Catra finally says, “Adora’s calming her down.”

This time, when she tries to turn her gaze back to him, Melog remains quiet. She watches Hordak nod, sees his ears droop.

“My behavior has been... unacceptable. I shall go request an audience with Queen Glimmer and make an apology-”

“Uh-uh.”

He frowns at her. 

“Oh, I mean, yeah! Definitely apologize. You were a jerk. But not now; you should rest first. I’ll go tell them that you’re not feeling great, and-”

His scowl returns.

“That is not necessary.”

She matches his frown with her own and scoffs. “Uh, according to what just happened, it is. What? You’re just gonna... pretend you’re fine and keep going?”

He looks like he wishes to say something less-than-polite, scowl deepening, but instead he turns away with a quiet huff. His ears droop even further.

“The terms of the treaty are fair, and it is my duty to adhere to them. This... lapse... aside, I am entirely capable of doing so.” He sighs and seems to will his ears into a more neutral position. “So yes: I shall ‘keep going.’” 

Catra blinks at him.

“That’s... really stupid.”

He blinks at her. 

“...what?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s stupid. What’s the point of it... pushing yourself like that when you’ve obviously had enough? If you need a break, then-”

Suddenly he snarls, he rounds on her, teeth and eyes glowing too-brightly, and she nearly jerks back. Melog tenses beside her but remains still.

“Then what?! I should inform the Queen, and she will suspend proceedings and accept needless delays for my comfort? That is... that is-”

He stops abruptly because she’s laughing, a dry sort of chuckle that might have infuriated him save for the fact that, when she notices his attention and stops, it’s to smile at him. Catra smiles at him, and the expression holds an honest sincerity that he’s never seen her exhibit before. His indignation fades; his aggressive posture deflates.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what she’ll do.”

At first, he only stares at her, as if uncertain that he has heard what he believes he has heard, but eventually Hordak swallows, glances away, glances back, presses his lips together.

“That is... highly illogical, given the circumstances. I am not... I do not...” His voice fades, and his ears all but wilt.

For the second time that day, Catra does something without thinking, settling herself into the seat next to him and placing a hand over one of his. It’s tense and cold to the touch; her thumb begins to stroke his knuckles without her realizing it. Hordak remains silent, lips slightly parted, transfixed. He does not even react when, on his other side, Melog presses their body gently against his leg.

“It’s a treaty, Hordak,” she begins, and her voice nearly strains for a moment when her brain catches up with her actions, but she steels her resolve and continues, “not a sentence. Not a punishment. I thought it was, at first. I figured it had to be, because of all we’ve done... all I’ve done. But it’s not.”

Catra remembers how she first felt, all those months ago, and she makes the connection between her old fears and his current ones, unconsciously pausing to squeeze his hand; her ears have pinned back, and her chest is suddenly tight again.

“It’s not supposed to... to hurt. For either of us. Y’know? I mean... I was out with the flu for a week a couple of months ago, and the worst thing that happened was having to choke down Perfuma’s gross herbal junk.” She huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement in it. “This...”

Now her voice does strain, and she has to stop for a moment before continuing. Beside her, Hordak is breathing quickly again and trying very hard to stop.

“This isn’t the Horde. Either Horde. How we feel matters. How... how you feel matters. So if you need a break, you get a break. ...okay?”

It takes him some time to answer, and in that time Catra realizes what her hand has been doing; she snatches it back just as he finds his voice.

“If... if you believe that your suggestion is... appropriate, then I shall agree to it.”

Catra lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The smile returns to her face, and she nods. Melog trills happily and rewards each of them with a gentle headbutt.

~

For what had seemed such a dramatic conversation, the aftermath is anything but. Catra and Melog return downstairs and tell Glimmer and Adora of what has transpired. Their reaction is as expected: the work is postponed, and Hordak is given leave to rest as long as is necessary, no questions asked. 

He spends the remainder of that day and the next in bed, rising in the late afternoon to deliver a very formal, semi-awkward apology to Glimmer. She responds with a very formal, semi-awkward acceptance. Their working session resumes, though Hordak finds that he needs to excuse himself again after only a couple of hours. That evening, Glimmer has a basket of strawberry tarts delivered to his room. She also makes a point of ensuring that their sessions no longer extend into the late night hours.

Catra remains nearby, much to Hordak’s (admittedly only half-sincere) chagrin, and between her stubbornness and Melog’s perception, he is kept well-supplied with snacks, water, extra blankets and, though both refuse to admit it, friendly company. Adora spends her time trying to contact Darla; when she succeeds, Hordak happily accepts Entrapta’s enthusiastic check-in (and assures her that, yes, he is being provided an adequate amount of soup). 

A few days later, he is able to rejoin the group in full capacity, and they finish their work with little harm done by their extended schedule. 

Then it is time for him to return to Dryl (Entrapta arrives the next day), but before he boards his transport, he takes a moment to do something he’d once never imagined he’d do: thank Catra. Awkwardly, as seems is his communicative style this trip, but sincerely. 

She grimaces slightly, refusing to meet his eyes, and scratches absently at the back of her head. Next to her, Melog utters a noise that sounds like a warbling coo, their mane glowing a faint pink.

“Yeah... well... better than you passing out and bringing the wrath of Entrapta down on us. Bright Moon’s still rebuilding, y’know.”

This elicits an actual laugh from Hordak, sudden and rather loud, and Catra fails to keep the surprise from her face as he regains control of himself and gives his final farewell with a small, genuine smile.

Despite Melog confirming for the world that she is blushing under her fur, Catra smiles back.