#the bedrock archives

[tragedy-for-sale]

Bedrock Headcannons:

Sergeant Hunter

Bedrock headcannons are headcannons that I regard as a fact in the personality of a character I write about. They range from small details to a huge part of a character's backstory. These headcannons are a constant underlayer in all of my fics that involve these characters.

﹄『❝ Hunter ❞』﹃

The ability to sense electromagnetic frequencies meant enhancements to his nervous system. Hunter has 18 cranial nerves, instead of the usual 12. He has 40 spinal cord nerves, whereas every other clone has 31. More nerves meant more sensory abilities; to be able to sense electromagnetic frequencies started with sensors, electromagnetic plates on his heart, wires attached to his head and semi-permeable sensors on his eyes.

His tattoo was a test to see how well he could handle electromagnetic frequencies; the tattoo continues down the entire left side of his body.

He had to undergo constant stimulation to test how much he could sense. His nervous system was constantly shot. He was always being tested and there wasn't anything he could do to ensure he'd pass. So much of his childhood was spent in pain.

His childhood nickname was half-pint via Wrecker. Hunter was shorter than his brothers right from the start. Every now and then, Wrecker will call Hunter 'half-pint' and he stops in his tracks, he loved that nickname.

Hunter cried a lot as a kid. The pain was inside his body, inside his mind, medics couldn't help him. He didn't know how to deal with pain that no one else could feel. He'd sense something then everything. So, all he did was cry. He'd cry for hours, much to the dismay of his brothers. No amount of Wrecker's hugs or Tech's inventions could help him; he cried until he passed out, as he got older, he cried less and less, but his brothers still hear their brother's cries echoing in their mind.

All three of his brothers played and took turns sleeping with Lula as cadets. But never Hunter. However, as they've gotten older, whenever he's sleeping, Lula would magically end up in his arms.

Coruscant is the most dangerous place in the galaxy, according to his brothers. There are too many electromagnetic frequencies there. They've only been to Coruscant twice. Hunter spent most of that first mission with his head buried under his pillow. The boys had left on their mission, leaving Hunter behind, but Wrecker had come back, he'd forgotten extra explosives, but as he stepped inside The Marauder, he heard his brother crying, and that's when Wrecker knew they had to leave.

Hunter's affinity for his bandana is due to an injury he received as a child. He got into a fight with Crosshair and left a large gash on his forehead; Crosshair gifted Hunter his bandana to cover it, he's never taken it off since.

Hunter has a few rules that will only be enforced if he's annoyed, mainly not to touch his knives or his hair. But the one rule that is strictly enforced is not to bug him when he's showering. The time Hunter is in the shower, he's not to be disturbed. It's the only time he gets to himself and he's not going to do anything to shorten that time; If he calls one of his brothers through the refresher door, they fucked up and everyone on The Marauder knows it.

One time, the water heater broke, and Tech was racing to tell Hunter before he went into the refresher, but he'd already been in the shower for some time. All the brothers' hearts dropped when they heard the angry "Tech!" Coming from the refresher.

He doesn't drink a lot. The more drunk he gets, the harder it is for him to control what he tunes into, and he honestly doesn't feel like burdening his brothers with one of his electromagnetic breakdowns. It works out because then his brothers can drink as much as they want, he's always the designated brother. But since he doesn't drink at all in comparison to his brothers, his ass is very much a lightweight.

Omega looks like Tech when he was a cadet. When Hunter's angry at her, she's really upset, or perhaps he's half asleep, he'll call her 'Tech,' and a part of Omega breaks. She wishes she could be who Hunter wanted to see. But she is only ever herself.

He thinks himself good at being alone and tells himself he prefers isolation. He knows he's their leader, but he'll look back to Havoc, knowing his brothers are inside laughing and carrying on without him; He doesn't know them like they know each other. Truth told, he's always felt like an outsider, even with his own family. So, if anything did happen, he knows they'd only miss him, but they'd never actually need him.

﹄『❝ Hunter ❞』﹃

|| Tech || Wrecker || Crosshair || Echo || Omega ||

[kindahoping4forever]

5SOS: A drummer like no other. The bedrock of the band. Happy birthday to the one and only @ ashtonirwin 💙

[sagethesmol1]

chat i cannot be doing this today, good lORD-

i was reading sbi ao3 (specifically “TommyInnit’s Services for Villains, Vigilantes, and Various Other Vagabonds” by I_Have_An_Alibi and @scorpionoesit; it’s amazing, you should read it) while in class and one of my friends (who also reads fanfiction) jokingly said “haha called out, you’re reading ao3”

AND TWO OF THE OTHER STUDENTS AT THE TABLE FULLY SCRUCHED THEIR NOSES and were all like “eww fanfiction”

and then there were like what is it?

and because i’m not telling them it’s dsmp fanfiction (im going to be exiled from society otherwise), i just said found family and they were all like ew, weird

WELL

FRICK YOU GUYS

IM SAD FOR YOU BECAUSE YOULL NEVER KNOW THE JOY OF FANFICTION

Never insult ao3 in front of me

[thatsquitepoggers]

Any good dsmp fanfic recommendation?

Im looking for more dsmp fanfics to read cause im slowly running out lol.

No x readers, just like, fanfics, yk?

Ive already read Tcfsv, Tumfasd, Passerine, Shrike, Accelerate, and im planning on reading Butterfly reigon. Also, idc if ir has Wilbur or george in it, honestly.

Thank you thank you!!!<3<3<3

[dsmp-fic-archives]

Haiiii do you have any really good longer bedrock bros centered canon compliant fic recs 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Preferably lots of hurt/comfort

Yes girliepops I've gotchu

-----------🐷🦝

Wilbur blows everything to hell on the day of the Manburg festival, just like he wanted. When the ashes settle, it's just Tommy and Technoblade. It's just them, healing up in a world that never wanted them

(And then it isn't, and the world is already upside down, so it only makes sense for gravity to give up on them entirely.)

-------

a non linear collection of canon-compliant one shots of Tommy's time with Technoblade post exile

--------

(this one is unfinished but still really good also cannon divergent but also aorta compliant)

A slow-paced, canon-divergent, multi-arc recovery fic with realism and fantasy elements, filled with funky-fresh family dynamics, and a very kind cow.

A tale where Tommy is usually sad, Technoblade is trying his best, and nobody has a good time for long.

--------

Techno and Tommy both learn how to trust each other again.(This is post exile)

[kira-anon-uwu]

i have decided to start drawing my fanfictions as shitty ms pain comics

no one can stop me except god, here is this one

[krissiefox]

My Minecraft Realm World October 2024 Download

Got a new archival backup of my Minecraft Realm world uploaded, just in case adding mods breaks anything. It's a very gay world and is not christian friendly. Have fun exploring! This map is for Bedrock Edition.

Click here to get the world save!

[genevawrenn]

Lookin' Like a True Survivor, Feelin' Like a Little Kid

✨c!Technoblade & c!Tommy [Bedrock Bros] ✨2.8k W.C. ✨c!Technoblade & c!Tommy-centric ✨Non canon exile escape retell on DSMP ✨Gift for DrAcOLiNe_InNIt 🎵I'm Still Standing by Elton John

Tommy looks down, hundreds of blocks below his feet once more, gaze being drawn towards the soft lapping water of the pond below.

Liquid or solid.

Life or death.

Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, he steps forward.

[cornbread-but-cringey]

this is gonna be a really specific request, but if anyone has any footage of the bedrock edition recipe book from before the item slot highlight changed to green, that would be like. super helpful.

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x05 - “Blisters and Bedrock” ↳ "My family archives have shed light on many of city's mysteries. One such mystery caught my attention. The curious dismissal of a revered academy alchemist. Unparalleled, by all accounts. And no mention of his crime."

[tragedy-for-sale]

Tragedy's Traveling Cart

Salutations, fair traveler, Welcome to Tragedy's traveling cart of, well, tragedy. Find past masterlists and recent fics from the current year! Updated when a fic is posted or right before! Be sure to stop by my AO3 account under the same namesake, often I have the extended version of works here and remastered versions of older fics, those fics are indicated by the phrase 'Extended and Amended,' clicking that link will lead you to the AO3 version of the fic.

2020 Top 10:

In this masterlist you'll find the hidden gems of clone centric fics I still hold fondness for.

2021 Masterlist:

In this masterlist find Bad Batch fics from around the first season along with corresponding headcannons

2022 Masterlist:

In this masterlist find Jedi, 501st and Coruscant Guard fics

Last: This Just In

↼┈┈┈┈❂┈┈┈┈⇀

|| Clonebang 2024 || Until Replacements Come ||

Brothers don't keep secrets from each other. At least, that's how it's supposed to be. But lately... Wrecker wasn't too sure about that. The brothers of Clone Force 99 all have a secret or two up their sleeves. If these brothers hold their tongue too long, when the truth finally reins free, forgiveness may be too far. As Tsunami storms place Tipoca City on lock down, secrets come in with the rain

|| Bad Batch || Lover Season

The island of Pabu is stringing up red hearts and cupid’s arrow all in preparation for the island’s annual Butterfly Lovers Ball. While helping Lyana make little cards, she tells Omega a story, how her parents fell in love. Starstruck, Omega is determined to hear all the love stories she can and determine which one is best. But, Lyana left one detail out: the heartbreak. It's the season of love on Pabu and Omega is determined to not let her brothers miss a single event.

|| Bad Batch || Commencement Day

The Clone Wars has started! Thousands of freshly minted troopers head to the desert battle arena of Geonosis lead by Grand Master Yoda to aid the Jedi and The Republic in their struggle against the Separatist Alliance. Elite Clone Force 99 stays behind to watch the continuation ceremony of their leader, Sergeant Hunter.

|| Bad Batch || Brother I Love || Extended and Amended ||

After a sour mission that left Hunter wounded, Crosshair is left to watch the Sergeant while the rest of the brothers make a supply run.

|| Bedrock Archives ||

Headcannons

|| Hunter ||

↼┈┈┈┈❂┈┈┈┈⇀

|| The Midnight Mercantile || On AO3 ||

Not quite as deep as bedrock, but certainly darker. In The Midnight Zone find works that hold nothing back. The darkest and heartfelt of truth; Where we dare not admit our minds wander. Trigger Warnings vastly apply.

|| The Bedrock Archives || On AO3 ||

Come to better understand the Star Wars Alternate Universe as Tragedy themselves deem it. Find staple fics that I deem defining to the characters I've come to write as my own as well as headcannons and Easter eggs apparent in all my writing as a foundation of bedrock.

[high-mackrels-musings]

The Point of the Prequels

I’ve seen it on more than one occasion that people attribute the message of the prequels to be that of the failure of the Jedi. To show us that the Jedi ultimately were too dogmatic, too arrogant, and too subservient to the Republic.

I do not have the time these days to write thousands of words refuting such nonsense, but I will point out that Lucas himself has attributed the Jedi as being the most moral beings in the galaxy:

They are the most moral of anybody in the galaxy. They’re monks. The Sith practice the dark side and are way of of balance. They Jedi aren’t as much out of balance because they’re the light side of the Force. - Star Wars Archives 1999-2005

One sees in the films that the Jedi are the only people out there trying to help people, they ask for nothing in return, they serve the republic because no one else has their reach, to quote Mace Windu:

Jedi do not fight for peace. That's only a slogan, and is as misleading as slogans always are. Jedi fight for civilization, because only civilization creates peace. We fight for justice because justice is the fundamental bedrock of civilization: an unjust civilization is built upon sand. It does not long survive a storm. -Mace Windu Shatterpoint

So, they have allied themselves with the largest government in the known universe, the only one with the reach to help the most amount of people.

And yes the Republic is corrupt and inefficient, and it is not perfect. But once more to quote Lucas:

The Jedi were equally determined to preserve the Republic and defeat the Sith, who they understood all too well were the masterminds of the Separatist movement. They still believed in the Republic, still deemed it a Republic worth saving. Their faith, which gave them superhuman strength in the face of mind-boggling power of the enemy, had yet to be shaken." -George Lucas Prologue to Shatterpoint

So, one may ask what is the point of the prequels? Well, the answer is greed will destroy us. The prequels show is George Lucas’ warning against greed, and not just the overt, the corporate greed of the Trade Federation, Techno Union, Banking clans, etc. the political greed of Palpatine and the senate, but also the personal greed of Anakin.

The prequels depict the Jedi as the only beings in all the galaxy that don’t ask for anything in return. Rather than the Jedi failing others, the greed of everyone else failed the Jedi.

[gladiatorcunt]

- BEDROCK | XII.

you’re a bottled star, the planets align, you’re just like mars. you shine in the sky

cw: kinktober prompt (sex toys), reader has a pussy, age gap (ur bsf ahsoka’s former master!anakin (40’s) obi wan (50’s)’s padawan!reader in her early 20’s), dub con, implied obikin x reader codependency, dismemberment fantasies, reader is lowkey a stalker freak, no direct touching between anakin and reader ofher than chest fondling, strongly implied voyeurism that’s non consensual but unavoidable and unwanted by both of you, eventual sith!anakin, obi wan haunts the narrative, frequent use of ‘little one’, dead dove do not eat, reader became a padawan in their late teens

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“You know they’re going to expect their toys to be put to good use.” Master Skywalker shrugs and tiredly grumbles down at you.

You’re sprawled out on the bed, recuperating from the first day of your undercover mission. Your own Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was on one of his infamous negotiation tours, so to speak, you had never cared for them, you couldn't spin pleasantries like yarn any better than a Rakghoul could dance.

Obi-Wan could only stomach taking you on because you parallel Anakin in so many ways, Anakin could only accept his former master taking another padawan because maybe your added seriousness will ease the aggravation caused by the one before you.

You were just happy to be chosen, as any child-waited-too-long-unwanted-teenager plucked from the tense comfort of their home would be, even if that home is only a basic imitation of a shelter.

“I know, Master.” These blasted things, growing up the other padawans would giggle with you over these provocative missions, usually a padawan donning the skin of a schutta on the end of a leash held by their Masters. “Do they have to be so… unique?”

It was as nice as Obi-Wan would’ve wanted you to be, even in these circumstances.

Would he take on Master Skywalker’s role with as much confidence and clarity as the true born son of the Force? Rumors of both the men’s appeal and promiscuity do not guarantee a willingness to rut into a padawan, a dance of demons spoken of in the archives, a beast in the vein of and important to some future single world than your own.

“Unique? How so? I know you’re not like some padawans and keep to yourself, little one, but Jedi your age talk. I’m not naive, neither is Obi-Wan.”

Master Skywalker might as well have carved the kyber crystal of his saber into your face, the flame that crackles under the surface of your skin bears his scent, stormy as his heavy gaze often is.

“Apologies, Master, i never meant to-”

“Shush.” He chuckles, “You can call me Anakin, I hope you’re aware of that. Mace Windu is not going to barge in here and strike you down for being informal. It’s just us, little one. I’m not even your real master, just doing pet sitting for an old friend.”

You blink, lava swirling in your gut at the implication of being a pet before a person. “Anakin.” Your mouth twists around the unused syllables, never having referred to a master by their first name in your entire life. “But the mission, we’re supposed to um…… you said they’d notice if we didn’t do……. anything.”

Another chuckle, another curl tucked behind his ear. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that we came to this planet as a wealthy ship salesman and his controversially younger companion. This place is too seedy to not have eyes and ears everywhere, they’d take it as an insult if we declined to use their… gifts. The success of this mission would mean another smuggler and secret trader being taken down, Obi-Wan and I both think you’re ready for riskier missions like this one. You’ll do fine, little one.”

“I’m trying to release my fear and anger into the force, Master- Anakin. I thank you and Master for seeing this in me but I've never done anything like this before. Are people really going to hear us… have sex?”

“That’s why we’re speaking so softly, padawan, it’s not the noises they’re looking to witness, but you can never be too careful.” Anakin smiles, patting your cheek firmly. “And we don’t necessarily have to do anything like that, just use the toys and leave them on the bed for servants to find, messy and thoroughly used. The nobleman will be pleased, if the information painting him as a pervert is accurate.”

Obi-Wan wouldn’t have spoken to you quite so crassly, but he does like to tease you that the sand scratching Anakin’s tongue never goes away, there’s always another grain when you think it’s spotless and clean. Like the temple or one of the many mighty metal spires, the sterile trees of Coruscant.

You nod, nevertheless. “There’s no use putting it off. The schedule we studied says the workers will stop by first thing in the morning.” Your nerves are obvious, picking your nails, biting your lip, adjusting the folds of your skimpy outfit to conceal skin it will never stretch far enough to cover.

Anakin’s eyes soften, the wrinkles in his outer eye corners deepen. “I’m only sorry I won’t be the only one to hear you cum for the first time, but they’ll never touch you, and they won’t get to know what you sound like doing everything. Trust me, little one, you’re in the safest place you could be right now, my general vicinity.”

It’s not as funny, or as hot, as you’d expect it to be. As shy as you are, you’re constantly surprised by how quick you are to embrace arousal in the urge to renounce shame. If your blood temperature rises to a boiling point, the big ball of anxious knots in your knot could be singed through until it falls apart.

You do not feel any great embarrassment of the simple truth that you have a crush on Anakin Skywalker, many do, you’d be at the tail end of a long line of various species of various ages and with various expectations of what they want their bodies to go through.

It’s silly to be possessive of a man you only share a master with, who stops by to chat when he’s not tinkering away at something or doing some death defying stunt on a mission that’s going to drive the council to insanity one of these days.

You are jealous of Ahsoka Tano however, your closest friend, even after she’s transferred to another Master, the result of some great big falling out.

It is far better that you were not assigned to be his padawan, the Force would have bled with your desire and dissipated entirely to get away from it.

Master Skywalker picks up one of the toys lying there on the bed in between you, a realistic tongue that disturbs you just a bit more than it arouses you. He chuckles at the apprehension on your face and motions for you to get comfortable. He reaches around you with one arm and bundles you up in his lap, your back to his firm chest.

He shushes your nervousness sounds and attempts to ramble, not fully apologetic as he peels back the layers of your tunic top. Your chest bounces into view, free from the confines of the tight fabric. Anakin gives you absolutely no time to be shy about them, groping one in his free hand. The force beams with his amusement when you gasp, the calluses on his fingers feel like they’re marking the skin of your mound, he kneads and kneads for a moment, perfectly content to let you squirm until you can get used to what else he’ll have to subject you to.

Maybe that’s where the hotness in these missions lies, you both want this on a baseline level but there are things you have to bend your own line in the sand to allow. Pushing your limits under the shyness-inducing gaze of Master Skywalker in these uncomfortably close walls and on a mission where you’re free to be other people might very well be your only chance. You’ve never broken a single rule at the temple, you’re a shining example of what a padawan learner should be. Master Obi-Wan often jokes that he wishes you were around to be his padawan the first time around, but there’s always a note of sadness hanging onto his stilted laughter.

You arch your back against Anakin, bracing your hands behind you and burying them in his hair. He groans as you gently tug the curls, and gives it right back to you by lowering the realistic tongue to your left nipple. You flinch, the surprisingly cold silicone model of a muscle flicks against your perky nub on Anakin’s command, and he’s commanding it to torture you to death. Relentless flicks of the toy against your nipple make you squirm again, wanting so badly to be good but you’d much rather ensure the toy was in constant contact with your chest.

It’s the perfect temperature, you run hot most days, and the brief sensation sends shivers from your head to your toes, just a hint of pleasure since Anakin stopped his own touching, sitting as still as a statue as he works the toy on you. He hooks his chin in your shoulder to gawk, transferring the device from one slick nipple to the other until both are so thoroughly coated that it drips onto your soft tummy.

“See, that feels good right, little one? There’s nothing to worry about, this is all we’ll do until it’s time for bed and then we’ll put these things away.”

You nod, whining like a spoiled noble family member now, pouting when he takes the tongue away from your nipple and throws it haphazardly over his shoulder. You cringe, wondering if the loud clang it yells into the concrete floor’s ears reached those in the shadows, you were trying to ignore them but now that there was a single moment of quiet there lecherous eavesdropping was all you could imagine.

A thick hand clamps around your chin and jerks you in the bearer’s direction, Master Skywalker clicks his tongue against his teeth, “They’re nothing to you, especially not right now. If you’d only let yourself go, they’d fade away entirely in your mind, I was trying to be easy on you but clearly you’re in need of something stronger if your head is still on the surface of this planet.”

Something stronger, being a large vibrator, 15 inches and a swirl of mint green and lavender, in the shape of a tentacle, every suction cup has the ability to well… suck. These are all things Anakin relays to you while rearranging your form to his liking, legs spread wide over his thighs, arms behind your back but not restrained, and after some lifting, your robes in a beige pile by the gaudy bed.

Master Skywalker can be merciful occasionally, he doesn’t force you to make eye contact as he lowers the vibrating toy to the altar between your legs. He also doesn’t comment on the pitiful whimper you let out, the vibrations haven’t even started, but you feel the force explode in pleasant-happy-power-trip blood orange. You drink up the calming waves he sends to you, wrapping them around your naked form like the comfiest and plushest blanket, the waves you offer to him in return are clingy little ripples in a pond. Needy repetition of hints to feelings that cannot leave this room alive.

He gets a glimpse of a fantasy, for a mere second before it vanishes out of view, a tantalizing and fascinating shooting star.

“No we can’t stop, you have to let it out.” You raise your hips up higher, face down ass up, your holes wink at him in intervals, angel wings flapping in the corner of his mind, like all the love he has for you will leak out into his cum and if he can just go that, then everything will be fine.

The vibrator doesn’t start at an easy to handle low frequency, your howling is drowned out by the intense humming of its second highest setting.

Your hips jolt, Anakin works the toy in slow circles over your clit, cooing when you jerk and squirm around. Your already throbbing clit is pulsing so hard it almost feels like a constant pain, but you’re so karkking wet that you push your hips up into his ministrations. You chase after the persistent buzzing with more determination than any of your meditation sessions, suddenly cumming on Master Skywalker’s lap is far more important to you than all the missions in the world. Blurry blobs with their ears to the structure around you shift to crumble beneath your increasingly loud cries.

Your pleasure snowballs, Anakin’s earlier attention to your nipples the mountain out of a molehill and his current fascination with your cunt the crashing wave threatening to envelop you in its fold. Like the ones Master Obi-Wan used to tell you about on Kamino, angry and dark cobalt blue, lapping at the ankles of the once elusive white buildings. It’s easy to split yourself into different pieces, assign each one to a part of nature because the force is telling you that your pleasure is as natural as grief and plant life and twin cotton candy pink to red suns and love and mistakes and giant bone dragons with pearls for landmark hearts.

The steady pulsing on your clit punches the gasps out of you, a steady stream of short-for-breath aimless chatter. You’re soaking Master Skywalker’s lap all the way down to the bed, if you mentioned them he’d probably tell you to leave how you ruined them. The smell and stain would only bring you greater protection from being found out, yet your stomach twists at the thought.

The force blooms violet with your fear, as if you’re deathly afraid of your own orgasm, lazy unenthusiastic rutting into your semi-firm mattress back in the dorm is nothing compared to actually touching yourself with the intent to cum. You just got too scared the first time you tried to slip your fingers in your tight snatch and frustratingly resigned yourself to never understanding what your peers go on and on about. Giggling into their portions of bland oatmeal and exchanging charged glances, hormones are far more powerful when they’re being repressed.

Master Obi-Wan had no trouble modestly applauding your emotional regulation skills, unlike his former padawan you had less trouble settling the wriggling bundle of your feelings in a see through boat and pushing it along the stream of starlight until it gave way and became one with the connecting tissue underneath.

“You’ll lose your voice at this rate, little one.” Anakin huns into your ear, his mech arm holding you so tight to his chest his ribs might crack open and swallow you whole. “You’re a better actress than I thought you’d be, unless all this whining and carrying on is genuine?”

You can’t even get a word out before he presses the vibe closer to your pussy, the swarm of tiny little mouths the orchestra and the largest one at the tip of the tentacle hugging your clit the conductor. Your breath hitches as you tremble and whine, a high pitched thing that pierces the air. Anakin grins, lips split wider than the length of the cruiser the council provided to get her, he moves the toy up and down between your folds. A fake cock warming itself in the snug hold of your pussy, sending little jolts of phantom electricity to fizz and sparkle on your tastebuds through your core up out your mouth.

“I’m- I’m not acting, Master. Kark! You’re- ngh- going to, um, y-you’re going too fast, Master, please.” You beg, throwing your head back on his shoulder and counting the dots that make up the constellations in your visions.

It’s too much pressure, Anakin plays with the silk fabric of your outfit like it’s something for his hands to do, like he’s not keeping a vibrator right on your clit and holding you down so you have no choice but to take it. You can’t help but think of the ways your real master would be different, he’d try his hardest and wait out the time the longest but would that stuffy old man end up performing this same brand of torture?

Not that Master Skywalker is much younger, from your position on his lap the signs are aging are right above your face. The cheek scar you learned months ago he’s had for decades The wrinkles, eyes, mouth, forehead, the permanent halfway tense halfway slack skin from all the stress he endured in the war, the ghosts living in his irises, his weathered hands splayed out burning hot steam to the touch on your belly. Right above your womb, he could just dig in and sink his fingers metal and skin knuckle deep.

“Aren’t you adorable? You’ve been taking it so far, you haven’t fallen yet, little star, I bet you can keep going. Stop rushing this, just relax and feel these hungry mouths coaxing you to splash against them, settle into their demanding chants.” Anakin soothes, unhurriedly dragging his blunt nails over your love handles, “I would say this body is wasted on those arid robes, on the Jedi Order, you’d be such a beautiful dancer like you were after dinner, but Obi-Wan would kill me if he found out.”

The dinner with the nobles, the party afterwards, the target had his lizard tongue hanging from his mouth when he asked you and the other “accessories” to put on a show. The force twirled in displeased crimson skies then.

You don’t insult Master Skywalker’s intelligence out loud, but you both plainly speak frequently to the same word of the day calendar.

You want to give him one of your arms, unholster your lightsaber and sever the flesh from your spirit. He wouldn’t be able to use it and you wouldn’t ask him too, he can just have it, so he can understand how alike you are, to know that you too will always wander around with a missing part of you. But how can it be truly missing if you gave it willingly? Master Obi-Wan can have your lonely other, in a fiery pyrrhic instant you are pure force and limbless.

You’d roll the turquoise pendant of the necklace he’d bring you, a souvenir from a stubborn vendor on an outer rim planet, in the lines on your palm like it’s one of his eyes.

Anakin suffocates the vibe in your pussy and doesn’t let the suction cups breathe until you’ve spontaneously combusted, before you can say knife

“It’s not funny, I really didn’t like it, Master.” You liked it too much, the flickers of yellow embers in his eyes, his grip so tight on your chub that you pictured him with sharp black claws, shacking up with a man you barely know but at the same time are too close to.

You used to fall asleep recounting the details of Anakin’s life and accomplishments, each tidbit represented a sheep for you, the biggest punishment to you back then meant being banned from the archives or blocked from news sites on the holonet.

You studied the man whose shadow you would wear over your robes like a shawl, until you were convinced you could jet set off to Tatooine and be able to point out which patches of sand his feet had tread upon. You just never once stopped to consider that he was doing the same with you, what kind of sun bothers himself with the comings and goings of a dead star so far away from their incinerating orbit.

“I don’t like that you like when i’m scared, it makes me feel… sick.” You could cum so hard you’d fall off the temple roof into Coruscant’s lower levels, be one of the ghosts wandering throughout the dreary gray tunnels but instead be moaning for cock that’d still be alive.

“I’ll hold your hair back and nurse you back to health, I’m in for it if I give old man Obi another padawan death scare.” He wiggles the digits of his mechanical arm sardonically, he knows what you mean but he also knows that you don’t mean it so he gives you the same amount of humor he sensed in your mutterings.

Master Skywalker is appreciated for his ability to be both tremendously serious on the battlefield and lighthearted with his colleagues, Anakin loves to tease shy early 20 somethings who volunteer him to be the replacement caretaker for their own master. He tosses and turns that night, not because of the impending result of the mission, all he’ll say in his husky morning voice is that he had a bad dream. You should make a break for the cruiser after embarrassingly exchanging pleasantries, Master Obi-Wan and the rest of the temple are expecting you home before your scheduled progress testing sparring session.

For now, the vibrator’s highest setting will be the instrument, the conduit to the music your moans create, interwoven with Anakin’s hot musk. Oil and dirty water.

[overlordinavoid]

Spent good bit on this and I'm pretty proud of it actually ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

Anyway, this is prince Tommy from the flower prince series, by @sircantus ! Beautiful series, love it, would die for it, ect, ect, ect.

I got to use my flower language book, and I'm so happy!

If you want bedrock bros, in a royal world, go read the fucking fic it's so good

[olderthannetfic]

So, you mentioned low standards of research in podcasts. I don't listen to podcasts or watch a lot of videos about fandom analysis, but I have seen error corrections happening in the wild for what I have listened to, so I can only imagine how annoying it is when you know your shit.

Do you have any resources that come to mind as things everyone who likes fandom should be comfortable with, or specific essays on uniquely important fandoms (such as Sherlock Holmes or Star Trek) that everyone should read? Obviously the OTW resources are up there; what else?

Aside from resources, do you think there are any skills that are especially vital for getting to the bottom of fandom trends? Interview skills are probably pretty high up there.

Any pitfalls you see a lot of young fans falling into?

(I do a lot of fandom history research. It is the thing that gives me joy in fandom; other people like shipping or AUs, I like my little mini-anthropology sandbox and watching how ideas spread. I'm not necessarily good at it, but it's fun!)

--

Well... it's the usual things.

For example, a lot of fans claim to love fandom stats, but the ones that get passed around come from like three people. The people doing those stats, including me, don't usually have a statistics background, which doesn't automatically make them bad, but it really seems like people are just trusting anything with a pie chart.

We've recently seen people discover that those year-end AO3 ship stats have a seriously weird methodology. They don't show the thing their fans are actually trying to find out. People were pissed. But most of the time, they don't even bother asking what the methodology is or trying to do anything themselves.

There's far too much sitting back and waiting for some BNF to spoon feed one publicly-available information.

--

The big failings aren't usually the math itself but, of course, not knowing what question to ask, so it pertains to history research, not just stats.

You'll see a lot of stuff on shipping that looks at AO3 because AO3 shipping numbers are easy to pull... But AO3 shipping numbers don't just happen to be easy to pull: that is both an effect and a cause that is directly related to AO3's content. Someone interested in meta shouldn't be asking "What do AO3's numbers show?" as their first question. They should be asking "Why is this metadata available or not available and what does that mean on a sociological level?"

--

Thing two is the eternal I Have Apparently Never Heard of Anime problem. A fuckton of people theorizing about fandom trends seem to know fucking nothing about whole massive sectors of fandom or treat them as afterthoughts. This is okay if you're writing a history of Media Fandom. It is criminally stupid if you're trying to talk about what makes a piece of media have fic when another doesn't, what kinds of websites make fandoms take off, etc. Those kinds of broad questions need a broad understanding of what's out there.

It's not anime-specific, and I'm not asking for a high degree of knowledge.

I have routinely had people tell me that best friend ships and mystery/crime as a genre aren't popular, and that's why AO3 has this or that pattern... Meanwhile, buddy cops are the bedrock of oldschool slash fandom and make up basically all of the longest-running Western m/m fandoms that aren't Star Trek. CSI slop tends to have legions of future canon het shippers, and they make plenty of fanworks. It's just that some of this is more visible on FFN or older places, not AO3.

I'm always seeing things like someone speculating about how this and that anime fandom thing or bit of mid-00s FFN community drama led to this other thing on AO3, not realizing that AO3 came out of LJ Western fandom slash culture. To them, FFN is so central that it must be the main reference point, not the bajillion and one archives AO3 founders ran or Usenet or mailing lists or LJ.

I once saw someone asking on twitter about where a prominent Ranma fic might have been posted in the mid-90s. People claiming "My professor is an authority!" came out of the woodwork in droves to blither about K/S zines and then LJ. Not only was this entirely wrong, but the right answer was blindingly obvious if you knew enough to interpret the google results. I can only assume that the person tweeting had never heard of Usenet and didn't recognize the acronym for the big anime fanfic group that literally everything like this was first posted to.

I'm talking people insisting that fandom only goes for white characters when it's very obvious that fandom goes for majority leads who are not othered. All the bawwing in the world about "People assume anime characters are white" won't get rid of The Untamed or Kpop thirsters or whatever.

I'm talking sweeping pronouncements about gender and fanfic writers where the person hasn't even heard of FIMFiction or SpaceBattles or Dark Lord Potter cheesefests.

I've been in fandom for a long time, but I wasn't in all these parts, and I wasn't around for 80s zines. You don't need deep knowledge until you pick a research topic. But it's shocking how little shallow, broad knowledge a lot of people have when they're writing their Theory Of All Of Fandom History.

--

People are stupid as shit about survivorship bias, and fandom history is no exception. They're also dumb in the opposite direction, assuming that the thing they like now has always existed in this exact form.

For example, someone got mad at Fanlore for supposedly not documenting the history of f/f zines. Others have searched and searched for the zines of their old show they got into last year and are bewildered to not find any. The reality is that Fanlore editors are attempting to document every Media Fandom zine and have combed through old adzines looking for any mention of anything. Because of the methods of distribution—because it was expensive—small fandoms often had no zines at all.

Femslash fandom doesn't seem to have gotten enough critical mass to do much until Xena. The internet has really democratized things, but even the early internet was still somewhat in that old mindset where only certain popular things have a fandom. I think Yuletide itself, which started in 2003, really helped spread the idea of rare-but-existing fandoms being a thing. FFN and perhaps some other multifandom archives like Media Miner played a huge role.

Nowadays, we think of fic as just how you respond to media, any media, even if there are only two fics for that one car commercial, but that isn't how people saw things in every era—or at least it's not how fandom infrastructure worked. A lot of the time, the big hosting spots were single-fandom archives, often with restrictive content rules. Finding somewhere to post a m/m/f OT3 fic used to be hard. Never mind early zines when photocopiers didn't even exist yet and you had to sell out your print run of 500 to make a go of it.

All good research starts with a lot of preliminary investigation to figure out what you're even trying to look for.

Actually bothering to look for fans talking about their own history or casually chatting with your interview subjects before the formal interview will put a person miles ahead of many of the cringeworthy fandom ~papers~ I've seen.

The biggest mistake people make is going "Okay, these numbers aren't perfect, but some numbers are better than no numbers".

Bullshit.

As soon as there's a pie chart of the false numbers, everyone's brain turns off and they never look at the chart subtitle, never mind the research notes.

Bad numbers are often worse than no numbers.

Look at the logic behind the methodology first. Look at the social context. Basic understanding of human nature and familiarizing oneself with the shape and hangout locations of a community will get you most of the way there before you sit down for a specific interview or try to collect any specific numbers.

--

None of this is a fandom thing. Research is research. It's just that most people think "research" means watching a tiktok that the algorithm likes and were never taught how to evaluate a source for reliability.

Evaluating sources is a skill. I had explicit lessons on it in school. Lots of people don't, and that sucks.

Honestly, watching the more thoughtful debunking content on non-fandom topics, like Miniminuteman's stuff on pseudo-archaeology or Dan Olson's... everything, is a good window into critical thinking, and that's most of what's missing from bad fandom history.

--

But more than any of that, more is more. Not the crap stats, but the narrower, more personal accounts, the interviews. The more fans who investigate their little corner that isn't the same old AO3 site-wide "Why is there so much m/m?" ship stats or the same canned "Everything comes from K/S" history, the better.

What I object to is not amateur efforts but efforts that pull from the same small pool of data or that just reblog a tiny handful of supposed authorities.

--

If people are going to read just one thing... hmm... go try to look up a history of rec.arts.anime.creative, not because I think it's the most important fandom history out there but because it's at the nexus of things a lot of current fandom history work miss.

[kira-anon-uwu]

wilbur really just breathes in this one and it called a dickhead frfr

he did try to kidnap ya boi and stab his hand right after finding him, but he had a good reason

today's is from Submerged, which is about immortals and amnesia