#the fandom is completely disengaged and i see people talking about leaving every day

[grifonecoronato]

The Olega Padawan

I love this guy and I wanna talk about him.

In The Acolyte, in Episode 2 "Revenge/Justice", we briefly meet this Jedi Padawan (played by Ed Kear).

He’s a big guy, and he seems eager to prove himself useful; he manhandles a kid, and explains how there was a break-in at the local Jedi Temple where he’s stationed.

He has one or two lines of dialogue, and the story quickly moves on from him. He mainly exists for two (2) reasons in the story:

To give a lived-in feel to the setting: that during the High Republic, Jedi are plentiful and ubiquitous, in direct contrast to every other Star Wars time period we’ve seen in film and TV (and yes, I’m including the Prequels era, which explicitly stated that while there were lots of Jedi, they were stretched very thin, which carries a different tone than the era of The Acolyte)

To contrast against Osha, who flunked out of the Jedi Order (more on that below).

I mean he doesn’t even have a name; he's just credited as the "Olega Padawan", his role is so small!

And the fandom menace H A T E S him. They lament that the Jedi are supposed to be physically and mentally disciplined, and being fat is antithetical to that.

I call horseshit. The Olega Padawan makes complete sense, and his inclusion is a perfect addition to Star Wars.

Visual Storytelling of The Acolyte

For now, let's leave aside the undisputed fact that there are many, many biological factors that contribute to a person's weight beyond how much food they eat. And let's be clear that a person's fitness or fatness is not an indication of their moral character or their value to the world.

So let's just say, for the sake of argument, that the Olega Padawan really is just out-of-shape.

In an era where the Jedi are plentiful, have the confidence of the people, recruit new members easily, and have known peace for generations, is it really so inconceivable that a Jedi who’s not at peak physical condition could exist?

In The Acolyte, we see that Jedi take on a peacekeeping / police roles, sure…

...but we also see them doing scientific research…

…and other non-combat, non-adventurous duties.

The temple on Olega is so tiny, so peaceful, so sleepy that its master -- Master Torbin -- took a vow of solitude, penitence, and disengagement, and the Temple was able to continue on, business as usual.

These are the conditions that the Olega Padawan finds himself in. And we're surprised that he would have other things motivating him besides commitment to physical perfection?

Headcanon: the Daily Life of the Olega Padawan

As of September 2024, nothing has been written about the Olega Padawan's story, but I can see his whole life through the context clues that were presented on screen.

The Olega Padawan was probably not a great physical student at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Unlike Jecki, his lightsaber forms are sloppy and half-hearted, but he was good enough to eek by a passing grade for his trials.

He then was sent to learn under the tutelage of the Olega Knight, where his master taught him to manage the affairs of the local temple.

He probably spent his days worrying about building repairs, negotiating with mechanics when the droids malfunctioned, arguing with incense and candle wholesalers to keep the temple well-stocked, and taking point on charity or community outreach programs. Occasionally, his master would show him how to make requisitions for additional funds from the Coruscant Temple, or how to phrase their weekly reports in such a way that they go largely ignored.

If his master asked him to do anything physical, like move something into storage, the Olega Padawan would have a choice to make: physically lift it, or just move it with the Force... and I'm pretty sure he'd just opt to do it with the Force once his master left the room.

Occasionally the neighbourhood kids would hassle him, because there's nothing funnier than watching a Jedi lose his temper, so the Olega Padawan probably developed a sharp tongue. He'd likely have zero tolerance for bullies.

If he ever finished his work early, he'd find a way to entertain himself rather than go seek more work. After all, what's really so important that it can't wait when you live in a quiet temple in a sleepy town? Adventure. Excitement. A Jedi craves not these things!

What This Means for Osha

There's one more role in the story that the Olega Padawan plays, and that's as a contrast to Osha.

Osha flunked out of the Jedi Order. Get it?

She flunked out.

She flunked out.

And we saw risk her life to selflessly save the life of a prisoner aboard a ship that was about to crash!

She flunked out of the Jedi Order!

The Olega Padawan, who lives a sleepy life in a quiet temple, did not.

So at this stage in the story, the presence of the Olega Padawan conjures questions like "if he could make it as a Jedi... what the hell did Osha do to fail?"

How much "worse" of a student must she have been?

By the end of the series this is made clear, but by episode 2, the Olega Padawan's mere presence invites us to ask these questions.

[louislyrics]

x

[kazuwhora]

hello hello, i see your requests are open now and can i request izana, wakasa, chifuyu and kazutora with an akutagawa!s/o? hope you have a great day/noon/night! ✨🤗

hi anon! sure! I will try my best with izana and wakasa since there's not tons to work with personality wise so forgive me if theirs are a little shorter heh. im gonna include a little blurb from the bsd fandom wiki for anyone not familiar with his character! I like these kinds of headcanon requests so if anyone wants to see more please feel free to request!

"Akutagawa has a black and white "survival of the fittest" view of the world, claiming that weak people should die and give way to the stronger ones. He is not afraid of pain and defeat His ruthless, vicious nature makes him one of the Port Mafia's most dangerous members, feared by both ally and foe. As violent as he is, Akutagawa maintains a generally composed and detached approach. Towards subordinates and superiors alike, he acts aloof, distancing himself from social interactions however possible. Nonetheless, his composure is fragile. Akutagawa is quick to lash out, ridiculing him for risking the bounty by acting recklessly. This quick temper often gets in his way, fuelling his actions to the core of his very being."

SUMMARY: izana, wakasa, chifuyu, && kazutora with an akutagawa!so

CW: hints of toxicity and violence, mentions of sex but not really all that nsfw-ish so otherwise not much else!

IZANA

- this is an interesting one because from what we know about izana, he is very similar in personality to akutagawa in terms of ruthlessness that stems from childhood trauma and isolation.

- in the case of a s/o with this personality, I think it would be a troubling relationship. lots of bitter fights fuelled by nothing but an inability to express vulnerability, while leaving both of you torn up inside and begging for someone to nurture the trauma and allow space for emotions.

- that being said, with toxicity and trauma also comes intense passion and desire. this relationship brings a lot of fire both in the bedroom and outside of the bedroom, with simple arguments often spawning into intense desperate (and lengthy might I add) sex. like, intense. it's almost like sex is the only safe outlet of these pent up emotions, providing a sort of comfort and also distraction for both parties.

- however as I said in general, this is definitely a toxic relationship. one where neither can help the other when it comes to growth and improvement on a personal level. it's unhealthy and enabling, but for a short lived fling it is hot as fuck im not even gonna lie. lots of hate sex too.

WAKASA

- so wakasa is another interesting one alongside izana given the lack of information and content we have about his character so please excuse the slight kc fanon version I have in my head of wakasa lol

- wakasa has a "don't fuck with me because I do not fucking care" type of vibe to him. I definitely think he's the type to completely disengage from the type of behaviours an akutagawa-type s/o might display. this leads to sort of a sense of competitiveness in trying to get some kind of reaction from him, and it has the potential (much like izana) to become toxic in nature

- any attempts to get under his skin are failed attempts, and the way he looks at you with that half bored expression is something that only triggers more of a somewhat emotional response from you.

- with that being said, my fanon version of wakasa is someone who while cold and aloof, is also quite a rational person. he's been typed by the fandom as INTJ which is quite a quick thinker, and I think he probably (despite not showing it very well) has a soft spot for you. but your passion and intensity (as well as your easily triggered dynamic) keeps him from completely being able to express this care in any way other than not engaging with your antics

- as much as there are some similarities with the type of toxicity in this relationship with both wakasa and izana, the intense passion isn't quite the same as it is with izana. instead, feelings of passion are more to the point and driven by pure instinct and desire rather than toxic passion. wakasa seeming like a very literal person, is actually quite mysterious deep down and has a lot (I mean a lot) of hidden desires and kinks that begin to emerge with time. it's rarely a conversation, and more often just something that happens that surprises you. you just have to go with the flow here, and let him take the reigns for once. it might actually be a good opportunity to allow for vulnerability to take the spotlight for once, which is something wakasa is surprisingly in tune with and quite to the point about.

CHIFUYU

- this is something much healthier than the last two. chifuyu, being an enfp is someone that's able to handle this level of intensity in a person while still being able to understand what's really going on.

- call him the trauma counsellor king. he values each and every response to a trigger that you might have. he notices patterns, he makes mental notes of things, and he does this all without making it seem like he's analyzing.

- to be honest he actually loves the spunk you bring on a day to day level. even though most of the time it's driven by bitterness or hate (not always towards him just in general) he is still able to see beyond that and appreciate you for what you are.

- with that being said, chifuyu will not stand for any toxic behaviour towards him. no sir he will not. threats and pushes for fights wont be tolerated, and he will either disengage or try to expose your vulnerabilities in an attempt at forced submission. this can be hard to get used to, especially with having a personality characterized by the inability to accept being vulnerable. but with time chifuyu is one to create a safe space for you to allow yourself to feel emotions beyond anger and resentment, and he encourages this.

- because of this very feelings based approach, intimacy with chifuyu is just that: intimate. he's extremely loving and doting, hoping that his sweetness can rub off on you a little bit. however he's also very accepting of your need for power over him (especially during sex) and will absolutely submit to your needs in order to please you.

- he really likes to put you in a place of pleasure though, so however that may come to you chifuyu is the one to deliver it.

KAZUTORA

- oh boy. this one is a doozy. listen. if we're talking about timeskip kazutora (as is the case with all characters i write about but I feel it especially important to remind ppl of here given his history), we're talking about someone who is quite literally walking on eggshells in terms of his trauma and emotional vulnerability.

- he's pretty good at being emotionally aware of his needs and struggles as well as the needs and struggles of those around him, but that doesn't mean that he's entirely healed or capable of managing toxicity or his triggers. he still slips up from time to time especially when things get hard, and sometimes finds himself falling into his old patterns. after all, he's only human. but this is where things could get messy in a relationship.

- for the most part, like I said, he's pretty good. so let's focus on that part first since I want to give him credit where it's due. he is very desperate for love and dedicated to providing something to his partner. in this case, he will seek to tap into his emotional vulnerability to provide some sort of comfort for you. he wants to see you happy, and calm, because he sees so much of his old self in you that it gets to him sometimes. but at the same time, he struggles with your relentlessness and can become emotionally drained when things get tough. he'll beat himself up for not being good enough to help you, and this is when he'll isolate and fall into old patterns.

- however, akutagawa's personality type isn't all bad. with a s/o like akutagawa, comes an immense amount of protection and loyalty for their loved ones no matter how tough things might be. in this case it might be hard to communicate this, but there will be times when it's needed in order for kazutora to restrain from old habits and ways of dealing with hardships. but he wants to share his healing with you, he wants you to be happy, and more than anything he understands the struggle of wanting to be happy and healthy but being afraid of losing the one thing that makes you you: your attitude and relentlessness. nobody understands this better than kazutora, which is why things between you can get frustrating and very personal for him.

- much like chifuyu, sex is driven towards pleasing you and only you. chifuyu leans more into switch territory however, while kazutora is 100% submissive. in this case it works out well, however he has a lot of boundaries and limitations when it comes to the way in which you function. he doesn't like degradation. instead, he thrives from praise and any sign of love and care. this might be tough for you to execute 100% of the time, but when it comes down to it the way his eyes twinkle for you is enough to make the ice around your heart melt just a little more each time.

[scripttorture]

You likely don't follow Dream Smp but there was just a reveal that one person (Character A) is torturing another (Character B, former villain, now in prison) for info on necromancy while the warden of the prison gave CA the equipment to do it and is ignoring CB's screams for help. And half the fandom is trying to justify it with "oh, CB deserves it for threatening to kill a child, killing (1/2)

another child (who he then revived, not justifying /that/ though) and manipulating/abusing the latter." Not only that, but so many people are telling off anyone who pointing out how messed up it is (and don't worry, the story itself so far is showing that it's messed up and won't work) with "it's just fiction, get over it." Like I am legit concerned over how many people are claiming it's cathartic and the character deserves it for their actions. Rant over I guess (2/2) (Dream smp anon) And I forgot to add that this character was /already/ being tortured; he has been in complete solitary confinement for upwards of 2 months and is being starved) and was actively self-harming and destroying items in his cell in a bid to get the warden to come replace them (looking for social interactions, even if it was negative) and people STILL thought that wasn't "enough of a punishment"

-

I have no idea what this show? Comic? Piece of media is but I’m happy to give my opinion on the general situation and use of violence in fiction*.

 But I’m not here to take sides in fandom wars and the aim of this blog is not to tell people they can’t write about violence or abuse. It’s to make people think about how it’s used in stories and hopefully create something that’s more realistic and respectful to real survivors.

 At the end of the day the reason I’m interested in fiction is because it effects our perception of real survivors. When so much of our popular media is unrealistic in ways that demean survivors that has an effect. I want to remind people that while the violent acts we write about are fiction, similar acts are happening to real people today.

 Torture survivors are real. They’re human and they deserve respect.

 Here’s the thing Anon, the people you’re mad at are real too. And the characters that sparked this are not.

 There’s nothing wrong with having a strong emotional respond to fiction. There’s nothing wrong with getting frustrated with how pigheaded or outright bigoted fandom can be. But it is worth questioning whether responding to this kind of thing is worth it.

 Arguments over fictional characters can become extremely heated and result in real world harm. And so long as you’re engaging with stuff in a purely fictional context… well I think the chances of being dismissed, belittled etc are significantly higher. (Note however that being dismissed and belittled still happens when you’re dealing with torture in the real world.)

 This is not fair. That does not change other people’s responses or the cultural climate.

 I will be blunt; if you are writing and reading in English the majority of fans you deal with will be Western and white. I have personally found this intersection very likely to treat violence as something purely fictional. I have found them unlikely to consider torture as a reality unless they are prompted to.

 And from my side of things that prompting is often like dropping an anvil on someone’s foot during the conversation.

 Believe me I get it. It is infuriating to see real, deadly torture techniques interpreted as harmless. It is hurtful seeing torture victims blamed for their own suffering. This happens on the news as often as it does in fandom so the fact these feelings are being set off by something fictional doesn’t make a lot of difference. Because these arguments are used in the real world against real people.

 Seeing torture apologia touted as this weeks hot take is something you are allowed to be mad about. I’d be a hypocrite if I said otherwise.

 But educating other people is hard work and you are talking about a piece of media aimed at children. You are probably talking to children. If you’re a teenager yourself it might be hard to hear it put like that.

 It’s still true.

 If you really want to have these conversations in your fandom then you need to centre the reality. Underestimating or dismissing the damage solitary confinement and starvation do to people is serious because it props up real world systems of abuse. Because it justifies ‘tough’ sentences to level of isolation that leave people mutilated by their own hand, or unable to function in society. Or dead. Because it leads to doctors ‘prescribing’ diets used in death camps.

 Here’s the thing, talking about that reality to children is a fraught process. Especially when they’re children who don’t have any experience of seeing this stuff. And unless you’re their parent or teacher educating them is not your job.

 Sending them down an internet rabbit hole that leads to photos of real injuries, real torture, real mass graves… I think that has the potential to go very badly.

 Enjoying something and then discovering that the fandom is toxic is unpleasant. But my impression is that’s the problem here: the fandom interactions are leaving you feeling like shit.

 Disengage.

 You do not need the fandom to enjoy uh… whatever Dream smp is. You do not need their permission and if the fandom is a negative space for you, you are allowed to leave.

 If some of these people are your friends then by all means try to privately explain why their words hurt you and use this blog as a resource. But ask yourself how much you want to be friends first because that is a long painful process that might not work.

 Torture apologia is everywhere and fixing it is going to take decades.

 Accept that you can not control other people’s actions. Accept that some people will always be assholes.

 If seeing torture apologia hurts you then… you probably need to find a piece of media without torture to enjoy. Because apologia is so present that I think that’s the only way to completely avoid coming across it in fandom.

 Once again I understand. I’ve volunteered to be bombarded with this stuff every day. It is upsetting. It is also embedded our global culture and the popular media exported to every single nation on the planet.

 Constantly being confronted with it and stewing in that anger and hurt is unhealthy.

 Step back. Do something else for a while. Take a look at this post I made last week. You might find some of the advice on dealing with these feelings helpful.

 You can not make people care. Hopefully most of the people you’re talking to will grow and learn and become more compassionate people. But you can’t force that process.

 And you don’t have to deal with their bullshit while they’re still growing.

 Shouting at other people isn’t always helpful and it isn’t activism. If you want to do something constructive there are a lot of organisations that would gladly accept your money and your time.

 Here’s a couple that seem relevant:

Just Detention

Solitary Watch

The World Food Programme

Amnesty International

 I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*I asked a friend to explain what Dream Smp is and I’ll be honest I still don’t understand it. But hey I got an idea of the target audience which helps. Please don’t explain Minecraft to me any more let me rest.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 18

Chapters: 18/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

They cook, they feed him, they chat away about inane things. Their presence soothes Martin and their voices fill him with the warmth sucked away by his unexpected encounter.

Gerry helps him make tea after dinner, and they all sit at the table together, even the cats sleeping nearby, cuddled up into one big, grey and black fluff ball.

"I think," Martin begins, voice croaky, "That I would like to tell you now."

"We're ready to listen if you're ready to tell us." Jon offers softly. Gerry reaches over to take one of his hands, turning it over to kiss the palm sweetly.

Martin talks, voice quiet and even.

"In the beginning, it was just a normal relationship. Except for the fact that he was almost twenty years older than me, and about a million times richer. I didn't know that at first, of course. He was just a middle-aged man I met in a gay bar, who didn't seem to mind that I was trans. I felt secure in our relationship, if not exactly nurtured or adored. I had never felt very secure before, and it seemed like enough, you know?

"He took me out, brought me a few things in the beginning. He was very dominant, sexually, but I was a lot less sure of my own preferences back then and I thought it was fine. He never even blinked at my trashy flat or cheap clothes, and I didn't even realise just how much money he had for a long time. Maybe I just can't really comprehend that much money, even now.

"When I was twenty-two, my mother died, and…" He huffs out a shaky, emotional laugh. "Well, I was a real mess. I lost my job, and almost my flat. Peter started paying for things, my rent, clothes, meals. He said that I needed somewhere to live and had to eat and look presentable, and it was his pleasure to provide those things for me. It made me feel a bit gross, but I struggled to find another job, and so I accepted it."

Martin hesitates here, before continuing. "The problem started when I wasn't interested in sex one night."

"He forced you?" Gerry interrupts to ask dangerously, threat explicit in his quiet words. His eyes seem to glow faintly in the growing dark of the room, as the sun sets. He wishes, more than ever, that he had helped Jon kick the shit out of Peter Lukas, instead of stopping him.

Martin sighs, eyes pressed tight closed for a second. "Not exactly. He simply pointed out that he paid for me to exist. So I made myself interested."

Gerry's hands tighten into fists and he moves them under the table where Martin can't see them anymore. Jon suddenly looks very pale. They share a look, neither able to see much difference between 'forcing' and what sounds a lot like financial abuse to them.

Martin pulls his legs up to his chest, curling around them as he goes on. "Our relationship became a lot more transactional after that night. I disengaged whatever feelings I had left for him and simply drew all my emotions down deep into myself. I wasn't ashamed to be getting paid for sex, but I felt like I had lost my own consent in the matter. Peter honestly seemed like he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Money was nothing to him, and he had someone to take out on his arm or shag whenever he wanted, without the work of a real relationship, or the complications of unfortunate attachments.

"So, if I needed something, I told him. He set a date, took me out, fucked me. He gave me however much I needed."

Martin shrugs, looking down at his hands. "I honestly hated it. Not because of the prostitution itself, sex has always been very nurturing for me, and I sometimes caught the idea that it was only another way to care for people, and being paid for that is perfectly fine, if you're doing it for the right reasons. The real issue was Peter himself. He had this way of making me feel… bereft and hollow, even before the money came into it."

A few tears track down his face, although his face remains rather blank, in a numb way. It's only as he admits the next words that his voice breaks and the heartbreak works its way out again.

"I was very foolish. Looking back, I can see that I was still a child in a lot of ways. I put myself into a situation that damaged me, but I accept the consequences of those actions, both then and now. I- I-"

"Martin," Jon whispers, warm love clear in his voice. It's nothing but an offer of support, one that he desperately needs right now.

He presses his eyes shut, forcing away the stutter and the lump of tears. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of it, even if I got a crap, minimum wage job that I was qualified for. So I started applying for any work that was available. I made every application exactly what they wanted, and I hoped for the best. When Elias offered me the job at Magnus, I took it happily. Since then I found out that Peter knows him, and probably arranged the job for me, but at the time I had no idea. Looking back, I know that it's a miracle that I got out of it at all. Peter could have chosen to make my life a living hell. Instead, he accepted the several firm rejections I offered him.

"He promised me that we weren't done, that I would be back, but he left me alone. I was done. I moved on with my life, even if I had to lie to do it." Martin sighs, shakes out his shoulders, the most difficult part over now.

"I had always planned to be open about it with my next relationships, but they were so fleeting that it never even came up. By the time I fell for Jon, it had become a secret, one I was loathed to dig up for a relationship I was convinced wouldn't last. I thought to myself, 'Why ruin something that makes me happy?' I assumed it would fall apart anyway, and it was easier to allow it to be in the past.

"But I am sorry. I'm sorry that I never told you. I'm sorry you had to find out from him. I'm sorry that we've been together for more than a year and we basically live together, and I've put you in this position. I love you both, very very much."

"When did you eventually decide that our relationship was going to last?" Jon queries, genuine curiosity in his voice.

There's a beat of hazy silence at the abrupt change in tone and topic.

"Oh, ah-" Martin stumbles over his words, unsure how blatantly honest to be. He chooses the real truth, no matter how unfortunate. "The day that I got Luna was the first time I really accepted that you both loved me."

Jon simply raises an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. "What about you, Gerry?"

"With you," Gerry responds easily, "at the hospital in Morden, when I was so panicked that I couldn't decide if I wanted to kill you or handcuff us together for the rest of our lives. With Martin-"

He breaks off with a laugh, colouring slightly. "It was the day we dyed my hair purple."

"The first time we had sex?" Martin asks, surprised at such a hedonistic answer.

He laughs again, more confidently this time. "No, actually, although that was spectacular. It was afterwards, when you braided my hair for the first time. That was the first time anyone had ever braided my hair. It made me feel so… So honoured. Like I was the most precious thing to you."

"Gerry, you are the most precious thing to me. You both are." Martin whispers, tears creeping back into his voice.

"Good, because the feeling is mutual, and we desperately need you around to keep us in line," Jon tells him, voice unusually firm and confident.

"What about you?" Martin remembers to ask him, at risk of floating away in his post confession haze. "When did you know?"

"With Gerry, it was when we were teenagers. I kissed him for the first time, and he laughed at me. I just knew he was my soulmate." Jon rolls his eyes at this, but his voice is full of blatant affection. "With you, Martin, it was- Well, to be quite honest with you, there was no one special moment. It was a million tiny moments, all of them special and perfect to me. Every cup of tea, every frown while you were writing poetry, glasses pushed haphazardly up into your lovely hair. The easy, glorious look on your face the day you met Gerry for the first time, as if you weren't even capable of not falling in love with him, just as I hadn't been. It was especially the days that I would come out of the library and find you waiting for me after work. This weight of total surety would fill my chest and leave me gasping, needing you."

Jon sighs, his own eyes a little bright. "I suppose it was really the night you kissed me in the rain, and every soft moment since then has only affirmed the way I knew you were it for me."

Jon smiles at Martin so beatifically that he forgets to breathe for a moment.

"We love you too, Martin," Gerry tells him, reaching out to grasp a hand. Jon takes the other. "And we wouldn't want you any other way."

***

The next morning, Martin wakes to find Jon eyeing his phone intently. Gerry is asleep on his other side, and he feels warmly cocooned between them. Gentle cloudy light fills the space, encouraging the comfortable cozy atmosphere of their bed.

"What's wrong, love?" Martin asks sleepily, snuggling into his side.

"I got-" Jon pauses, utterly flummoxed. "I got paid a bonus."

"What?" Equally perplexed, Martin takes his phone, squinting as he tries to read the screen.

The banking app is open, and there is indeed a deposit there, Jon's normal salary amount, but on completely the wrong date.

In the purpose box, it simply reads 'Entertainment Value'.

"You don't think," Jon starts, hesitant, "that Elias paid me…"

"For hitting Peter Lukas?" Martin finishes, "His own husband."

They blink at each other, bewildered.

"Does that seem… slightly cursed, to you?" Jon whispers as if Elias might hear him. Even worse if Elias could hear them, and would probably enjoy being accused of having a cursed relationship.

"Yes, completely cursed. What is up with those two?" Martin looks as if he's smelled something bad.

"We absolutely cannot spend this money, right?" Jon asks. "Lest we are cursed with their relationship dysfunction."

"Correct," Martin responds firmly, shuddering. "Can we donate it to the animal shelter?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Jon's relief at this resolution is palpable.

He does it straight away, as if even having the money in his bank account might ruin their lives.

They let out a simultaneous sigh as the transfer goes through.

"That is wild," Martin mutters as he snuggles back down.

Jon tosses his phone away, no longer interested in it. Instead, he wraps his arms around Martin, burying his nose in his lover's hair. It smells of bergamot and tea leaves and the ocean in winter, just like Martin himself, and Jon luxuriates in the moment.

"I love you, Martin K. Blackwood." He whispers into the soft air.

"Even if I don't actually have a middle name?" Martin whispers back.

"Especially because of that." Jon chuckles.

They lay together, the gentle moments of the morning flowing around them. Later, they get up and shower together. They drink tea in front of the big windows in the living space. Martin reads a book from Gerry's shelves, his own books still packed, and Jon wanders off to play his piano where it is randomly set up, right in the middle of Gerry's typical painting area.

Gerry himself appears downstairs, still sleepy and bleary-eyed. He curls up with his head in Martin's lap, listening to Jon fill the flat with gentle music.

It's the soft sort of moment that each of them had been wishing for all their lives, full of love, and family, and a home of their very own.

[wanderingcas]

hey so I saw you post a couple things about not wanting negative comments on your fics and I feel rly bad bc I think if you were vagueposting it may have been in response to the comment I left on your most recent chapter of ascend (I’ve since deleted it, though if it’s still in your inbox I’m sorry I can’t remove that as well). I did read it through before I hit submit, but after seeing what you said I went back, and can see how it could have been interpreted that way; I can tell my tone was just way off, especially for the platform. I’m autistic and have done a lot of work to improve my communication skills and convey appropriate tone, but I still bungle it up sometimes, and I’m sorry about that.

Things get messy on the internet for a variety of reasons, basic miscommunication being one, blurring of boundaries another, mismatch of expectations, etc etc; my intention was to be conversational, like wondering about a plot point not touched on, sandwiched between things I really liked about it. In retrospect I am seeing that even if that tone had been appropriately conveyed, that’s still a boundary you would prefer not to be crossed, particularly not in that setting uninvited.

Tumblr can add a layer of complexity bc of how friendly and informal and blunt so much of it is, and I think perhaps because I’ve read so much of your work and follow you here, it skewed the relationship baseline I was aiming from. For example, if I were talking to a friend about their work, I believe that tone would be less likely to cause hurt or offense, if that makes sense, or at least that has been my experience...though now that I’m thinking about it, still maybe not on a public comment platform! So again I am realizing the layers of my error here.

I’m not explaining to minimize your feelings or absolve myself of blame, but because by describing it this way I better understand what I did, where I went wrong, and how to improve going forward. I would rather be embarrassed and work through it than experience this social faux pas and be too ashamed to leave comments at all in the future. I can understand the position you have taken about not wanting negative comments, and I definitely get that you and all fic authors and other fanwork creators put in the time and effort and make yourselves vulnerable by sharing that effort for free, only hoping for some positive feedback in response.

Although I’ve definitely had good interactions with some authors over the years via comments and included some not-exclusively-positive feedback without issue, it’s wrong to assume that that is everyone’s stance. It’s absolutely every author’s prerogative to decide what types of comments to accept, and I mean that without judgment. As a non-neurotypical person (who often needs explicit statements of acceptable social behavior to adequately modulate my communication), this has reminded me that it is safer and kinder to assume that someone wants positive-only until otherwise demonstrated.

I apologize for any hurt caused by my inappropriate and badly phrased comment. Thank you for sharing your work, and for enforcing your boundary about what type of comment you’d prefer to accept.

hi, anon! just to clarify - are you the commenter that made a post about wanting more of Jack in the epilogue? Because i want to absolve you of some blame right now - I actually wasn't vagueposting toward you at all. I got really bad anon hate yesterday? two days ago? toward my fic (I deleted it, blocked the anon, and never posted it), as well as anons in the past - and I've also been seeing fellow writer friends go through some of the same issues. My post was less of a vague post necessarily and more of a general "let's review fandom etiquette" lol. Know that my post about that, and the subsequent discourse with that anon, was absolutely not directed at you.

When I got your comment I will admit it made me a little uncomfy - mostly because when I've gotten those comments in the past, they're layered with an added "this is what I wanted and you didn't do it so I'm angry and telling you about it", but that's not what you did in your comment - I understood where you were coming from, even if it did make me pause a bit. So i just want to let you know that you shouldn't feel shame or awkward or anything like that. I agree that tone and intention can get lost over the internet, and the relationship between reader and author can be tricky sometimes - particularly if you want to offer an opinion that might not be taken as completely positive? But it sounds like you are aware of that, and I do appreciate you taking the time to self-reflect.

And just as a quick note - in the past, there have been fics I've asked to get feedback on from readers - like La Hantise, for example, which I since deleted to rework as an original fic. I really wanted readers to point out what parts worked for them, and what parts didn't, and I specifically stated that in the author's notes on every chapter. Looking back, that may have been why our signals crossed got crossed, if you've been following my fics before. And usually I am pretty open to opinions in comments? But "ascend" in particularly has gotten some really entitled, really awful comments (again, not putting yours in that category!) so I've had to guard myself a bit with that fic. Maybe it's because it's a fix it fic, and everyone wants different things out of the finale to be fixed. Maybe it's because tensions are high. I dunno. Either way, i've had to build some walls around myself so i don't want to stop posting supernatural fic altogether lol.

So yeah, this is a messy way of saying - thank you for coming to apologize in case you needed to, but know the post wasn't about you. It was a general vent about the unwanted criticism and vitriol that some writers have been receiving lately on their fics. Like, really mean-spirited stuff lol. It wasn't my intention to make anyone paranoid, especially because comments on fics are great and lovely and I'm not about to drag anyone through the mud even if a comment made me a little sad, but I can tell their intentions are good. Usually in that case I just disengage and think about how to process it on my own end. <3

That all being said, i really really appreciate you taking the time to come to my inbox and say all this. You're one of the good ones, you really are. And people like you make me want to keep posting fic. Truly.

[theexistentiallyqueer]

"but he murdered people”

This is a post about Goro Akechi, murder, its aftermath, trauma, and two things that are in real short fucking supply around here: critical thinking and empathy.

Listen, I’m a veteran of the Dragon Age fandom. If you want to talk about toxic fandoms, they’re your Bible. As far as your Judas Iscariots and Nebuchadnezzars go, I was one of them. I’ve seen it, I’ve done it, and I’m done with it. It’s exhausting to carry that much rage inside of you, to live it actively every second of every day, and to inflict it on other people and laugh about it. So I’ve been disengaged, largely, for a few years. 

And now I’m in the Persona 5 fandom and find myself enthusiastically appreciating Goro Akechi, because who doesn’t love complex, morally flawed, ambiguously gay-coded characters? Shit, maybe you’re not on board, but I’ll sign right up. I’m a relative newcomer, despite being a longtime Persona fan and playing P5 around when it came out, because I didn’t engage with the fandom then. I jumped back in with the Royal announcement and absolutely saturated myself in this vibrant fan space. Invested in the idea of Akechi being explored as a fully fleshed-out character, I find myself following Goroboys. Which is great! Because so far, they’re all great! Nicest bunch of people you could ever hope to meet!

Except there’s Discourse. There’s always been Discourse, I find, but this is my first exposure to it in this fandom. This weekend was my first week of seeing Goro antis active, seeing people I follow, people I like and appreciate and some I considering genuine friends, actively attacked and harassed because they like a fictional teenage character who killed some other fictional people in a fictional world where you, playing as the main character, have the ability to perform a metaphysical lobotomy on people who literally can’t consent. Here I thought the only people who hated Akechi were white cishet men who saw his rage against a parent and said, “Nah, too bitchy for me,” because they’re too afraid to look in a mirror and see Masayoshi Shido’s fascist, misogynistic mug staring back. 

Are you awake yet? Have I woken you up to the fact that Persona 5′s premise is a wish-fulfillment fantasy of “what if I could make the person who took advantage of me when I was a teenager apologize in front of the entire world by using an alternate fantasy dimension to completely violate their brain”?

I see my friends saying, “Wow, it’s amazing how people who hate Akechi can’t leave people who like Akechi alone,” and within an hour they have replies saying MURDER IS MURDER as if they know what murder actually is.

We’re about to get real personal up in here because maybe, only then, will some of you people take the hint that your behavior borders on actively bullying other people on the internet over a fictional character.

Ready? Here goes.

Murder is your mom picking you up from summer camp three weeks after your ninth birthday, driving you to your grandparents’ house, and telling you that when daddy was at work today, someone tried to steal the money, and they had a gun. Daddy was brave and Daddy died.

Murder is blacking out when you’re nine years old and coming to to yourself two houses away on a neighbor’s swing set with crickets chirping in your ears and the crushing reality of never seeing your father again turning your brain into static.

Murder is asking your mother if she asked for the death penalty, and your mother telling you, in a pleading voice, that she didn’t because he was mentally ill and it didn’t feel right. Murder is feeling angry afterwards because you feel like something was taken away from you, and something should be exchanged for that. Because that’s how fairness works, right? If you steal candy from the store, you have to give up your allowance for the next five months.

Murder is realizing you’re an atheist at fourteen and driving past the cemetery where your father’s remains are interred, and having the gut-punching, soul-suffocating realization of what never ever ever actually means. Murder is building an internal cosmology where forever means my atoms and yours, creating new life in perpetuity as the comfort you drag out of the west’s cold, uncaring atheism that never found its own poetry.

Murder is your first two years in college, when you discover social justice and realize the world is bigger than your own life experiences, and that violence at the bottom is a reactionary symptom against violence at the top. Murder is understanding the fact that the man who killed your father was himself a victim of a racist, ableist, capitalist society with a morally bankrupt healthcare system, and that every single one of those things is in and of itself is more hateful than the act of your father bleeding out in the parking lot, in the ambulance, on the operating table.

Murder is your mother confessing to you in college that your father was physically abusive of her and that she had threatened him, only weeks before he was killed, that she would leave and take her daughters with her if he didn’t change. Murder is knowing that your father ran after an armed robber because he was raised by a Sicilian father in a household overflowing with toxic masculinity, and what killed your father wasn’t a man with a gun: what killed your father was the patriarchy whispering in his ear, This theft emasculates you. 

Murder is looking your own mother in the eye and telling her that one day you want to visit the man who killed your father and open your heart to him, because all you can think is, He didn’t plan this. He can’t have wanted this. What must it feel like to kill someone without intending to and then have to live with that for the rest of your life with no one to help you? Murder is the sound of betrayal in your mother’s voice when she responds, disbelieving.

Murder is spending years wanting to at least write to him, and then forgetting, and then going back, because you are a fluid, impermanent, imperfect person with your own flaws and failures and mental issues that hold you back from being the paragon you want to be. Murder is throwing yourself into the left and embracing prison abolition so hard it hurts, because you know that if the state can lock up someone who doesn’t “matter,” the state can lock up anyone. 

Murder is throwing away or selling every childhood thing you ever possessed because you are not by nature a sentimental person, but never giving up that doll you were gifted, the doll you coveted and wanted more than anything else, three weeks before your father was shot and killed. You have no pictures, no mementos, no nothing, but she sits at the top of your bookshelf to this day, a weighty child goddess, the symbol of your torn and labyrinthine childhood.

Murder is having to see a bunch of petty-ass people using actual trauma that real life people have experienced and continue to experience to directly and repeatedly harass your friends online (and yourself, indirectly, by tagging their hateful shit) because you and your friends like a fictional fucking character who, by nature of being fictional, did not actually murder any real existing people.

Murder is building your entire identity around how you sympathize, deeply, with the person who killed your own father, because that takes hard work and deep empathy and the ability to see past a lot of bullshit just to get to that point, and having some fuck-ass anons act like none of that matters because there is (apparently, I must assume) some omnipotent god of justice saying “Fuck you and everything you’ve been through” that apparently only these bullies can hear.

Murder is seeing fandom moralizers talk about murder like they understand it. Like they’ve read this, plus the last ten-plus paragraphs, and decided they know best anyway because mommy and daddy always told them Criminals Are Bad and walked wide-eyed and innocent into a social network overrun with TERFs, exclusionists, and a rotten segment of the political left that acts like some extras straight out of The Crucible.

I have never once been triggered by anything relating to my father’s murder. I cried at the Resurrection Stone scene in The Deathly Hallows, I cried when I completed when I completed the DA2 DLC Legacy after the end of act 2. When I see a parent die, I have an emotional reaction, because it’s familiar.

But the Akechi antis who all say “but he killed people!”, The Akechi antis who say “murder is still murder”?

The murder of my father is still murder. The man who killed him, his murderer, is still regardless a human being, the man who killed him deserves sympathy and compassion and understanding and respect and, above all, a chance.

I am a living example of what’s left behind when someone is murdered. You can walk into the mausoleum where my father is interred, face his headstone, and let the earth open up beneath you and drop you into hell.

So most sincerely, from someone who lost their father to gun violence, to armed robbery, to murder: Stop fucking using our lived experiences as your justification to harass and bully people online for committing the Grave Moral Sin of just liking a video game character.

Between the fact that the American government is keeping real people in concentration camps and a bunch of strangers on the internet liking a twiggy teenage anime boy who used a fantasy world to kill people who don’t exist, which one is actually important to deserve your moral outrage?

You’ll die eventually; fascism won’t kill itself.

[kirkwallgirlesque]

Finally got some of these Shoker / ME3 Control Ending feels onto paper, and to go with an old scribble (included), too! Whee! The joy of fairly open endings is that you can do a lot of things with them afterwards. xD Also wow it feels so very weird to write for a different fandom than what you’re used to...? what are voices? I have no idea.

Angst with an eventually happy ending, control ending, fluffy memories, *author has a crisis about keys*, mention of bad dentist experiences and hangover; alcohol mention. Also obviously discussion of death.

Notes feat. credits (one), my brand new Key Headcanon, and some discussion about the Citadel and the condition of the apartment at the end. :D

As usual, I’ve read this about a million times but still there are bound to be oopsies there. xD I’ll weed them out when I notice them haha!

UNDERTONES (part 1/2)

Joker had to stop at the door to Shepard’s – Anderson’s - apartment because the sucking black hole inside his chest swelled with every step he took and became so heavy that it was hard to breathe. He didn’t know if he’d be able to bear the empty apartment, but EDI seemed to think that it would be a good idea to visit the memories in the apartment even if it did hurt, and pick up any of Shepard’s personal belongings that were still there, as well as check whatever it was that she wanted to check on the terminal, Joker wasn’t sure. Maybe clean up a little if the place all a mess. In fact, she’d suggested it. “I believe it would be beneficial for healing,” she’d said.

“You know what? I think I forgot the key—“, Joker tried, turning on his heel, patting his pockets to hide how badly his hands were shaking. A single look from EDI told him she wasn’t buying it.

“You didn’t. You checked four times after leaving the Normandy,” EDI said, and her deadpan was flawless, as usual. “You put it in the bottle of painkillers in your pocket just to be sure.”

Joker sighed and let his shoulders slump.

“All right, you don’t have to rub it in,” he said, and turned back to the door, rubbing his arms. “Look, I just don’t know if I can do this.”

“Jeff, you said yourself that you might as well do this now if you ever wanted to come back because delaying would not make it any easier, and I quote: just ripping the band-aid off in one go is supposed to be better anyway. I can play the recording for you if you wish.”

“Oh, har har, very clever. But all right, you’re right... Thanks.” Joker sighed again, clenched his jaw, and then fished out the key. She was right. He did want to go back, and he would have already turned away without EDI there to gently kick him to it. He shook himself a couple times, and then took a deep breath and ripped the band-aid, half-expecting the lock mechanism to be broken; it would have been just his luck. But no - the key whirred inside the lock as the programming kicked in, and the bolts disengaged. Band-aid gone. One of them anyway.

Shepard would have said it’s better to pull the tooth out in one go instead of fucking pecking at it a for half an hour, he thought, and the thought made him first almost laugh and then almost cry. It came out as a shaky breath. He was pretty sure the words were based on personal experience, but Shepard -

(just shudders and sinks deeper into the tangle of blankets, pulls joker closer and stalls getting up a little longer – so much for throwing the warm blankets off quickly and facing the day and the aftermath of the party head-on)

- had never volunteered the full story.

Stepping into the apartment didn’t feel as much like a punch in the gut as he’d imagined over and over and over when he couldn’t sleep at night. Instead of ruin and devastation from his worst nightmares it surrounded him with an empty hush, and left him feeling shaken and out of place even though really the place was mostly just as he remembered it, just... eerier. His footsteps echoed too loudly in the silence.

The last time he’d walked through the living room there had been a fire crackling in the living room fireplace, beaty music playing, people and laughter everywhere, and Shepard had been there in the middle of it all, laughing and smiling –

(and revealing his teeth in a crooked smirk that makes joker’s heart skip beats. come on, you have to dance! the coffee table is not going anywhere so don’t try to pull that one on me again! come ooooon, I want you to dance with me. are you going to make me beg because I’ll do it--)

- in his stupid yellow top that was too short for him, stealing chips and grapes from other people’s plates. Now the whole apartment was just lifeless and empty; even the waterfall had been turned off. The signs of life were still there – there were the empty bottles from the party still in the kitchen, some shattered on the floor but some still standing and waiting by some miracle to be either trashed or recycled; a few forgotten hair ties thrown on the coffee table along with a scattered deck of cards that had been drunk doodled on and thus ruined; a towel thrown on the back of a chair to dry. If it hadn’t been for the antique shop quiet, it would have been so easy to imagine Shepard appearing from behind a corner-

(loose-limbed, face washed, hair a soft mess from sleep, a mug of tea in each hand. he is wearing the same teasing smirk from last night, only this time it’s because joker has a hangover even after saying he would stay away from the drinks, and not because he joker to get up so they can dance with edi and be silly in the middle of the living room. joker would sooner drink coffee but takes the offered cup anyway, and then scoots sideways when shepard kicks his ankle softly with bare toes and moves to squeeze himself into the corner of the couch – not the other corner where there is plenty of space, but his corner)

- and that nearly squeezed the air out of Joker; the image was so vivid and so sudden. He leaned heavily against the counter between the kitchen and the living room and curled around his aching chest, bowed his head in a way that might have made the cap hide his tears if they hadn’t tap-tap-tapped right onto the polished surface. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth and tried not to sob.

“Man, if this is what the Drell feel like all the time, I do not envy them. This feels a lot like pulling a tooth very slowly,” he managed shakily after a couple of breaths and false starts, but EDI had wandered deeper into the apartment in search of whatever it was she had meant to pick up, and if she heard him, she made no reply.

“There is an incoming call on the line to the apartment,” she announced instead, and Joker made an annoyed sound, blinking more tears from his eyes. “Shall I connect it?”

“No,” Joker said grumpily and followed EDI’s voice into the study where she sat in front of the terminal, legs crossed. She had an odd expression on her face when she turned to look at him. “How the hell do you even answer a call to a dead person’s apartment? They don’t teach that anywhere. And who the hell even would call this place now, hasn’t the line been disconnected? A telemarketer selling one of those sock subscriptions? Do the lines even work anymore? The whole Citadel was pretty fucked after the war and they haven’t even managed to restore the more important bits completely yet.”

“I cannot verify the source of the call exactly, but it seems to be coming from somewhere within the Citadel. It seems… important.”

Joker stared at her, but when she offered no further explanation, he threw his hands into the air half-heartedly, shaking his head.

“Well that wasn’t cryptic and slightly ominous. What the heck, let’s do it. Go on, EDI.” And then, to the caller when the line connected: “Hello, this is Admiral Anderson’s apartment, Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau speaking.” He almost laughed. The greeting sounded absurd even in his own ears.

“JOKER”, boomed a voice through the voice system, and all the hair on Joker’s body stood up in an unpleasant start. He took a couple of slow steps backwards and more slumped than sat down into a convenient chair. His mouth had gone completely dry and his heart was hammering so hard it almost hurt. 

The multi-layered harmonics of the voice were horrifyingly familiar – the deep, rumbling voice made the glassware in the kitchen ring and small items rattle and skitter across surfaces in the apartment. EDI only squinted curiously at the terminal, fired off a quick message, and then smiled when a replying message’s beep arrived immediately. Joker was too shocked and too wired up to pay attention.

“What the shit,” he hissed, dragging his hands over his face  and covering his mouth. The Reapers just stopping after whatever Shepard had done and leaving had been too good to be true, hadn’t it? “Shit, shit, shit-“

“JOKER”, the voice repeated, but with less rumble this time. “PLEASE JUST for once bE COOL and shut up and LISTEN. I KNOw I’m nOT EXACTLY... me anymore, not the same as before, but...  we need to talk.” It sounded almost like the voice was looking for a frequency, wavering between a Reaper’s rumble and something quieter, somethng more… human, in the lack of a better word, and underneath it all there was a constant undertone coming through clearer and clearer that sounded like-

(magpies, or some other bird like that, hoarse and raspy and always a little amused)

“Damir?” Joker breathed, turning his eyes to EDI. Now he could see her knowing smile.

“YES,” said the voice. “Yes.”

end of part 1.

note 1: this fic was largely inspired by a line in a chat from a while ago with @losebetter because it just was very perfect. I just tag you into everything these days sorry but you are somehow inspiring like half of this stuff nowadays or pulling me into new & exciting fandoms. xD Here it’s because I borrowed AI Shepard’s line from that chat. Not word for word, but still. ^u^ Close enough!

note 2: So I had a moment of jaw-dropping epiphany when i was writing this where I suddenly went ‘WAIT WAIT. ARE KEYS EVEN A THING ANYMORE.” I'm gonna make up a headcanon that because humans are sentimental about stuff they could have these kind of. novelty locks and manual that act a lot like normal keys would but in truth aren't very different from an omni-tool activated lock, so there IS programming in work when you actually use the key. Like especially on human colonies or old buildings on Earth, and maybe especially especially if you're rich and have a fancy schmancy place because it's custom work and installing a system like that to an antique door is like. super craftsmanship. They're more inconvenient because you have to actually have the key with you but it's uh. vintage. xD Maybe there's a way to override it with the omni-tool if you forget the key though because otherwise you'd be screwed if you really lost the key. that is my key headcanon now’

note 3: I actually have no idea how badly the Citadel is supposed to be damaged in the end if you take the Control ending...? It’s not supposed to fry the systems, but that much power may have still done a number on some of the non-reaper systems especially and fried some things. Maybe the whole debackle might have shaken places a bit, maybe some places are worse than others, maybe some places are completely and utterly FUBAR. Corpses we know there are everywhere and clean-up will take a while even with huge efforts put into it. :c I’m kind of. going for a best case scenario here and saying the apartment is mostly okay. xD

note 4. as I’ll probably repeat in part 2, EDI absolutely knew something was up from the moment they docked on the Citadel and connected with what systems worked there again. xD