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i have never agreed with the notion that saying discriminatory things in your past makes you irredeemable or that it should be a reason to exclude you from public life forever. mainly because it's an unsustainable standard that will disarm you and everyone you claim to advocate for. even the wokest among us are guilty of not voicing the correct line on a social issue at some point in our lives. if we are all #cancelled due to this antisocial form of ethics then how is anyone gonna be useful for anything at all and how can a society even function

all that to say these assessments about who should be put in the Permanent Castigation Chamber forever should be made with the context of what their behavior is now, what amends they would make, and if they are actually a total social plague to the people around them in a way that causes harm. people aren't entitled to forgiveness nor applause for changing, but like, be reasonable lol

that said this enforcement definitely reveals itself when people apply these standards to some but not others. people who are happy to weaponize the Permanent Castigation Chamber against people they don’t care about will be quick to ask for grace and humanity when the victim is someone they like

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today i learned those clothes that people are making for labubus fit my walmart shadow keychain plush

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hiii! i hope this isn’t a bother, but i was just curious — have you ever gone by the alias maverick before? i feel like you might be an old friend of mine

nope i haven't, sorry!

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alright it's the weekend which means i can finally write, however, i do wanna point out an update to my rules (which i'm also posting under the cut).

since they're becoming more and more en vogue, i'm not really comfortable writing with muses that are admitted self-inserts. sorry. more power to you, nothing against them inherently, but my experience with them has been unpleasant in the past; i’ve had situations that turned way too personal because certain people didn’t know where the line between fiction and reality was drawn. not saying everyone who writes self-inserts is like that, but i can't help feeling a bit uncomfortable.

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Your Eyes are Vacant and Theres something Evil as Fuck About You

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if you ever feel safe please remember that im out there

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ester's pronouns are slay/them

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“ wait,  NO,  i don’t want to be a marketable plu —  ”

“ actually,  never mind.  this isn’t so bad. ”

   hits YOU with the marketable plushie beam !

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dion & bearers.

dion is never shown in-game interacting with a bearer like clive — we're not even sure if there's any in his order of dragoons.

in all honesty, i believe the plight of the bearers probably never entered his mind. not fully, at least. he cares for the civilians of sanbreque a great deal, and is not an unkind or unfair man — but in contrast, he stands by while sanbreque enslaves people to fight in the army he is a part of. i don't believe he's prone to being cruel to bearers like others are. but, at the same time, his privilege has blinded him to a lot.

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NO... I WILL GET OUT.           /        independent sebastian castellanos. BUT WITHOUT YOU.              /        penned by erika.

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it’s always “why did you sacrifice yourself and leave me behind” and never How was the sacrifice Was sacrificing yourself fun it looked fun

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dion narrowed his focus to drawing steaming liquid from a samovar sat on the corner of the table where a map had been left unfurled.  a quiet clinking followed  —  sugar cubes falling in like small,  crystalline thoughts,  dissolving before they could fully settle.  the way she seemed keen to avoid eye contact with him had not gone unnoticed  —  or rather,  now it didn’t.  a minute ago,  it had slipped past him,  a bird flitting by the edge of vision,  but now it anchored itself in his awareness.  that little detail in her body language set off an alarm in his mind.

she’d spoken carefully,  said it wasn’t her place to comment on things above her station.  he mentally kicked himself some more.  that wasn’t what he meant when he noted her occupation.  rather,  he was the one making some sort of trespass,  not her.  

was he perhaps… making her uncomfortable?  or,  at least setting her on edge?

“ the last time i ate… ? ”    to justify the silence that would come as he thought,  he lifted his teacup to his lips.  it was,  of course,  richly spiced yet absurdly sweet.  

as he recalled the last time he did have food,  he came to the horrible realization that it had been the night prior,  and only a light dinner at that.  which wouldn't have been any real cause for concern had the day not been half over.  and certainly that did little to help his mood.  

he smiled sheepishly,  not unlike a child caught doing something he shouldn’t. “ not anytime today,  i am afraid,  lady  —  ”  

another awful realization dawned upon him,  that he had unleashed his woes upon her without even asking her name.

“ ...  ah.  apologies,  my good lady,  i have been terribly rude.  might i belatedly ask your name? ” 

ah shit. her thoughts had formed into words before she could smother them.

Aria had every intention of keeping her distance when their worlds collided and mixed for the eve. if she were smart, she would have retreated into the caravan. however, a single glimpse of that dark cloud hanging over the dragoon's head was enough to erase the risks of an encounter with Sanbreque's prince from her mind and flitter to his side like the moth she was.

her words of comfort were sincere, they had come from a place of love that was painfully rooted into her being... but he needn't know that. you are only a performer, after all — she repeats in her head. this is the role she is playing tonight.

" i'll not dare to comment on matters above my station, your highness. " she continued nonchalantly, as if she didn't just speak to him so familiarly, " but if I may ask, when was the last time you ate? "

if she wasn't keeping him from getting a better look at her by keeping her head a little lowered, so her veil's hood can hide most of the upper half of her face, then she could have peeked into his cup. she smelled tea and sugar, which was... strangely endearing. most men drowned their sorrows and frustration in alcohol.

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@mayoinomori // starter call.

“ i ask ya to start pullin’ your weight  — ”    there was a horrible sound then,  the mix of a metal bat bashing against a knee bone.  the man being scolded immediately fell to the hard asphalt of the street,  pathetically blurbing out an apology.  

another whack of the bat against the man’s body.   “ beg ya, even  —  ”    and another.

the man drew a shuddering,  wheezing breath and howled again.  a sob this time,  not a yell of pain.  that he remained in torment,  there could be no doubt.  but he was listening.  and for all the fear he struck in his men,  they were at least safe in the knowledge that majima wouldn’t murder any of them in cold blood  —  but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t beat them until they wished he would.

“ and this is how ya think to do it? ”    whack.   “ muggin’ some rando girl? ”    whack.     “ where’s the style? ”    whack.   “ the finesse?! ”    whack.

the man cried now,  raw and wretched.  another apology came,  this time along with a beg for mercy.  majima heaved out a sigh,  then clicked his tongue like a disappointed parent.  with a final shake of his head,  he turned his eye towards the woman who his lackey had apparently targeted.

“ sorry ya had to see that. ”    a corner of his lip pulled up in a lopsided grin.   “ he don’t know better  —  that ya can’t corner a wolf. ” 

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they ran away together and lived happily cuz i said so!!!