#Caste System Analysis

[vioeducation]

What is the concept of a ‘demographic winter’? Is the world moving towards such a situation? Elaborate[150 Words] [10 Marks][2024]

Demographic Winter and Its Global Implications Concept of Demographic Winter Definition: A situation where birth rates fall below replacement levels (2.1 children per woman), leading to population decline, aging demographics, and socio-economic challenges. Current Trends: Global Aging: In 2022, 771 million people were aged 65+, constituting 10% of the population. This is projected to rise to…

[hurlyburlytopsyturvy]

vrisrezi date!

↓ rewfewence ↓

[fannedandflawless]

The Wand That Yielded to Grief: A Snape Wand Theory

Darling, let’s talk wandlore—not the polished kind with Phoenix feather packaging and eager eleven-year-olds. No, no. We’re diving into Severus Snape’s wand. And the story? It's neither charming nor convenient. It’s charred.

Let’s begin with what little we do know.

The Canonical Silence

Official sources—wand replicas, Wizarding World merch, and the occasional lore snippet—suggest:

Wood: Ebony

Length: ~13.25 inches

Core: ?

That’s right, love. The core has never been confirmed. J.K. Rowling left it blank, the movies skipped it, and the books said nothing. Silence. Total silence. Which, frankly, is suspiciously on brand for Severus Snape.

Ebony, for the record, is a wand wood known for loyalty, strength, and an affinity for those who live by their own rules—individuals who walk away from the crowd without looking back. Sound familiar? Oh, absolutely.

But let’s go deeper.

⸻

Was That Wand Always His?

Remember the infamous scene—Snape hanging upside down, humiliated by the Marauders? The Severus in that memory didn’t fight back. Not with magic. He thrashed, cursed, but did not cast. Some fans assumed cowardice. But darling... I can’t help wondering if it might have been something else.

What if the wand in his hand wasn’t truly his at the time?

Perhaps it was a borrowed wand. Possibly his mother’s. A hand-me-down, serviceable but stubborn. It could cast spells, yes—but not instinctively. Not like a wand that had chosen its master in a moment of absolute clarity.

At fifteen, Snape was still divided. One part aching for Lily. Another drawn to the shadows of power. His identity was not yet forged, his inner world fractured. And from what we understand of wandlore, no wand of serious character would yield fully to a master it couldn’t read with certainty.

So when James struck without warning—Levicorpused him into the air—there was no duel. Only shock. Scramble. Exposure. And possibly... a wand that didn’t respond.

It’s just a thought, of course. But perhaps that wand wasn’t his. Not yet.

⸻

The Turning Point: The Half-Blood Prince

When did that change? Oh darling. The moment ink hit parchment and a boy wrote:

"This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince."

That was it. That was the baptism. He hadn’t yet started anything with anyone—no romance, no allegiance. Perhaps Lily was already slipping away, and maybe, just maybe, resentment had started to take root. It might’ve been the first time he truly felt seen within Slytherin—not for being clever or strange, but for doing something that others there deemed right. If there was a turning, it wasn't toward someone. It was away. Away from the pain, the disappointment, the fruitless effort. Maybe that’s when power began to shimmer—not as a prize, but as the only thing that might still answer back.

From that moment on, his mind sharpened. Cunning replaced confusion. The grief hadn’t come yet, but the isolation had—and he began to wield it like a weapon. That’s when he would’ve acquired the wand we now associate with him:

Ebony wood

Inflexible

Cold to the touch, but alive in the hand of someone who never asked to be warm again

⸻

Post-Lily: The Emotions That Forged Obedience

Now, fast-forward. Lily is dead. And Snape is no longer fractured. He is hollowed. The core that once wavered with longing is now filled with singular, punishing clarity. Let’s break it down:

1. Grief (but not the weeping kind) This is grief weaponised—steady, silent, permanent. He does not mourn. He functions. Every breath is penance.

2. Resentment Towards himself, Dumbledore, James, the world. And perhaps—even Lily. Not out of hatred, but from a wound so deep it blurred blame and pain. For choosing James. For becoming unreachable. For dying before he could make anything right. He might not have resented her directly—but in a heart that no longer knew how to grieve cleanly, every loss left behind a trace of bitterness.

3. Control Emotion stripped to its most minimalist form. No outbursts. No chaos. Just tight, merciless control.

4. Duty The unasked-for vow. The boy lives, so the man must serve. Not because he wants to. But because he no longer permits himself not to.

5. Emptiness The absence of desire. Nothing left to want. Only actions left to take. He becomes function incarnate.

And the wand? Oh, it submits.

Because by now, Snape’s emotional register is so sharpened, so pared down, that there is no room left to resist him.

He doesn’t ask the wand to obey. He tells it—and it does.

Because if it didn’t? The wand itself might’ve felt it—some deep, ancient knowing—that failure to cooperate wouldn’t lead to a scolding, but a fate worse than irrelevance. Not snapped in punishment, but surrendered to fire, repurposed as kindling for something colder. That’s the level we’re at.

⸻

Final Word: The Wand That Yielded

Snape didn’t earn his wand’s loyalty through brilliance. He bled it out of himself.

"He didn’t tame his wand with greatness. He subdued it with grief."

Darling, if I were that wand and I so much as twitched against his will, I’d snap myself in half out of shame.

Now pour the tea, snap the fan, and tell me I’m wrong. I won’t argue—just raise a brow, maybe. But deep down, we both know how this ends, don’t we?

[misty-memories09]

Hello, everyone, I once again offer an analysis on S.P.E.W. Previously I had commented on it's failure but this time it's more on the slavery itself and why it's weird, gross and every aligning adjective when I see ‘it was fine because they wanted to be enslaved’

If you see this post before you see the failure of S.P.E.W one, you can check it out here if you wish. In that post I do only speak of where I believe Hermione had gone wrong in her approach.

With all of that out there, let's start —

There are two possibilities when we look at house-elf enslavement. 1) they are magically engineered creatures, 2) mass brainwash.

Now see, I do not think the first option is too likely. Although it is the wizarding world, speaking realistically magically engineered creatures are a cheap cop-out.

If we look at the possibility no.2 imagine the things they'd have done to reach the point of mass brainwashing of house elves. It's something really gross whenever I see the book characters or fandom say that the house elves are happy to be enslaved.

Which at first you could say is absolutely correct but then you're completely ignoring how issues aren't black and white and never will be. It's incorrect to say such a thing as enslavement will never be in anyone's nature everyone strives to be free. Freedom is by default something precious to every creature out there.

But there's also this one thing, this one VERY important thing which I don't know if I should state or not but these agruements have been continuously used by slave owners, and it is actually very important to the analysis I have made.

It's natural that some people are slaves. This argument says that some people are slaves as part of the natural order of the universe, or as part of God's plan, and it is wrong to interfere with this by abolishing slavery - nobody nowadays regards slavery as a natural thing.

Source

I recommend going through this whole article as it contains multiple agruements used by slave owners which are used in the books alike. I also recommend going out to look for articles for credible sources to get a better grasp on this topic if you want.

This is the essence of the arguement for slavery used by our fictional pureblood wizards and actual slave owners historically. Which is why the house-elf deal sits so wrong.

It's because of what it represents. It represents pure oppression to the point where the oppressed class itself feels that it was meant to be opressed — as if it was born for the need of slaves. This idea has been drilled down the minds of house elves for ages. The oppressed class in our case is the house elves.

Now pardon me for involving Indian history here which might not seem related but I will make the connection quickly —

In India, you may or may not know that the major religion is hinduism. The system I am talking about was officially abolished in 1950 but even still, many people still practice this especially in rural areas.

Namely, it is the caste system — at the top are the Brahmanas, these are the priests of our temples and are regarded as ‘holy’. Then comes the kshatriyas (this is a hard to pronounce word if you can not speak Hindi, I suggest not trying lol because the k sound is there but it is also simultaneously silent), these are the ruling powers, the authority. Then comes the shudras, these are at the second lowest, still not marginalised even though they have faced atrocities, these are the farmers and artisans.

The caste we will be looking at is ati-shudras, the lowest of the low, the marginalised and the 'untouchables'. These are the workers that cleaned streets and did the so-called dirty work, they also are ones that would burn the corpses.

Now, I do not intend to credit jkr as a genius, honestly, I'm not so sure where she was going with this because it was just hanging there and the topic wasn't talked about enough, it was gone in book five. No more. Genuinely, I think she just wasted a very complicated and very interesting sub-plot set up but all we see is kreacher and then dobby die.

In our case of the fictional world of Harry Potter we can look at the house elves as the ati-shudras. When we look at this caste system, we must also consider that it has been deeply ingraved in the minds of many Hindus. There are many recent news of 'honour killing' for the simple reason that there daughters liked a man that was not from a desirable caste or well, an acceptable caste.

I do not mean to ramble, but the connection I wish to make here is that it is very possible to have a massive brain wash, and for someone so-called 'dirty' to feel dirty as well as if they were born dirty and are meant to be treated as low level garbage.

It's all because it is a heavily agreed idea upon. There are so many instances of characters agreeing upon this idea that house elves are dirty, below them, meant to be enslaved — Ron, Percy, literally every single pureblood, half-blood and even muggle borns that it is hard for even the house elves themselves to believe that they are not dirty, untouchable and that there validation as a creature is only there as long as their masters are pleased with their work.

This is why winky has such a hard time coming to terms with the fact she had been sacked. It wasn't just a job it was her life. I believe getting 'sacked' used to be much much more violent in the start of house-elf slavery. There's also a gross aspect which is totally possible during the times of early house elf enslavement — killing the ones that do not follow through their terms. Take this and there could also be the aspect of the idea starting out as a 'movement' as in, the wizards at the time had this idea mass agreed upon and treated every single house elf as below them.

The point is, the wizards are the upper, better, cleaner ones than the house elves. They are the Brahmanas, Kyshatriyas and the Shudras (this actually kind of checks out because Shudras were also treated poorly just better than the ati-shudras) while the House elves are the untouchables. The ones above them in this unjust caste system feel superior to them while they feel inferior which was purposefully crafted by the so-called superiors.

Now think about this, the concept of caste system has been officially abolished in 1950, it has completed seventy-five years since then but it is still deeply rooted into society, still has an effect on how many people live there lives. House elf slavery hadn't even been abolished. This problem still would've been there because this is, unfortunately, how people work. This is how people have been working when it really shouldn't be.

Yeesh, that was much that I just unpacked! I still have more thoughts on this topic which I would possibly post in the coming future.

[greedcartel]

as regards crimson's mafia . . . we don't have a lot of information on what exactly it is crim's mafia owns / runs / etc. for the purposes of this blog, and until canon proves otherwise, i'm going to say he runs a drug-and-arms-dealing cartel, working directly for mammon. for an imp to be as established as crimson is, he'd have to be quite involved on the black market and have connections in high places; he's among the main suppliers of illegal weaponry (angelic weaponry, amongst others) as well as some concrete types of greed-ring brand narcotics. due to his deal with mammon, he also gets access to his shark demons.

i hate the inconsistency with hell's hierarchy ngl; we know imps are at the bottom of the food chain and face a lot of discrimination, both verbally and economically — on the contrary, we've also seen imps, like fizz & blitzø, who are very successful and seem to have had no issues finding work on the basis of them being imps. that said, i will assume for now that mammon has crim on his payroll because he considers crim easy enough to control, relative to other demons. if anything were to go wrong, having an imp take the fall is ideal. there are also quotas imposed that crim has to meet, which is why, among other reasons, he was so concerned (desperate, even) to boost the financial situation of the family in exes and ohs.

crim is acutely aware of this and is actively working to increase his holdings & influence, cutting deals behind mammon's back and growing his empire with the intent to cut ties with the sin eventually.

[justlike-other-girls]

Sohini vs. Gulabo (Untouchable, 1935) -- Mulk Raj Anand

Mulk Raj Anand was an Indian author in the 1930s who is known for his criticism of the rigid Indian caste system. His novel, Untouchable, follows a young man from the lowest caste who were labeled "untouchables" due to their jobs handling human and animal waste. Because these jobs were seen as unclean, the higher castes believed that being touched by an untouchable would contaminate them.

Although the novel follows Bahka, the young man, there is one scene where the narrative leaves him behind. Towards the beginning of the novel, Bahka's younger sister Sohini goes to the well to fetch water for her family. While waiting she runs into Gulabo, a washerwoman, and the mother of one of Bahka's friends.

"She was a fair-complexioned, middle-aged woman, the regularity of whose supple body bore even in its decay the evidence of a form which must, in her youth, have been wonderful. But although her face was now covered with wrinkles she had pretensions to beauty and was notorious as an assertive old hussy who thought herself superior to every other outcaste, first because she claimed a higher place in the hierarchy of castes among low castes, secondly, because a well-known Hindu gentleman in town who had been her lover in her youth was still kind to her in her middle age" (16-17).

Gulabo taunts and looks down on Sohini both for her lower caste but also because of "the delicate features of her rising beauty" (17). Sohini is referred to as a "potential rival" to Gulabo because of her physical appearance, youth, and beauty (17).

The caste system is not the only force working to keep Sohini and Gulabo at odds. As women, part of their value comes from their appearance, and in some cases this overrules the privilege of caste. As two lower caste women, these two have a lot in common, they are both underprivileged individuals forced to live in terrible conditions. And yet Indian society, which at the time was under British colonial rule, rewarded competition over collaboration.

In order to keep people stuck in their rigid social class, they need to participate in the system that was keeping them oppressed. That meant not only that low caste people needed to be invested in oppressing those even further below them, but also that age and gender distinctions also give people privilege. There must always be someone below you so that you can keep yourself above them.

Sohini's existence as a young woman, and a member of the lowest caste makes her the target of everyone's abuse. Her only privilege comes in the form of her body, which is desirable despite every other aspect of her social standing. This makes her a threat to Gulabo who has lost most of her youth and beauty. It is a violation of the social order, and therefore threatening to the system that keeps Gulabo firmly higher than Sohini.

This competition is not about these two particular women, it's a problem created by colonialism and the patriarchy in order to keep control. And these people will always be treated as the lowest of the low until they realize that they aren't enemies, and the real villain has been keeping them distracted all along.

[blackcurrant-juice]

please take all of tills period cramps and give them to luka

[prokopetz]

I apologise if you've already answered this, but I tried searching your blog and I'm unsure if you haven't or if it's another example of Tumblr's amazing search system.

I was talking with a friend recently about how much of a culture clash the Monk Class is compared to the rest of Dungeons & Dragons and was wondering if there is a coherent reason for their original inclusion. I'm aware that they're largely influenced by Shaolin monks as depicted in Hong Kong cinema in the 70's/80's as compared to the Sword and Sorcery stuff most of the rest of D&D takes influence from.

Basically, my question ultimately boils down to, "Is the Monk Class there purely because of an original player wanting to rule of cool their way into playing something wildly out of genre, or is there a stronger link between Sword and Sorcery and Hong Kong cinema that could have organically resulted in the Monk Class joining the rest of the classes?"

A lot of the link between the two was simply a matter of time and place. The kung fu craze hit North America at just about exactly the same time as the sword and sorcery revival that gave us films like Clash of the Titans and Beastmaster and The Sword and the Sorcerer and Dragonslayer and Krull – not to mention the Arnold Schwarzenegger Conan adaptation, which revived popular interest in first-wave sword and sorcery literature – so there was a lot of it going around. Analysis of early Dungeons & Dragons as a product of its media influences often overlooks that it was largely drawing on what was trendy in American popular media in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. Even the tonally incongruous Lord of the Rings references weren't a deep cut; while the books were originally published in the 1950s, they'd experienced a strong resurgence in the 1970s, putting them firmly in the popular consciousness at the time that D&D was being developed. All this being the case, it's not surprising that early D&D was also substantially influenced by Hong Kong action cinema.

That said, the reason the monk character class in particular (i.e., as opposed to kung fu media influences more generally) is there is allegedly because one specific guy in one of the game's early playtest groups really, really wanted to play as Remo Williams from Warren Murphy and Richard Sapir's The Destroyer; several of the class's signature abilities are direct references to powers Williams exhibits in the course of the novels. Remarks from folks who worked at TSR at the time have pointed the finger at Brian Blume as the Remo Williams fan in question, though accounts are conflicted whether Blume was actually an uncredited contributor to Dave Arneson's Blackmoor (1975), in which the class makes its first proper appearance, or whether Blume's interest merely prompted its inclusion.

This is the case for the character archetypes in a lot tabletop RPGs of that era; instead of trying to work out what classes "ought" be be present, authors would simply start with the types of characters their playtesters actually wanted to play, often based on specific popular media characters, then work backwards to derive an IC rationale for why those were the setting's standard adventuring professions. Other examples from D&D in particular most obviously include the Ranger (based on Tolkien's Aragon, naturally), but also the Paladin (principally inspired by Holger Carlsen from Poul Anderson's 1961 isekai novel Three Hearts and Three Lions, also the source of D&D's goofy regenerating trolls), the Assassin, back when it was still a separate character class (probably mainly based on the Assassin Caste from John Norman's Gor), and even the Wizard to a large extent (less Gandalf than you'd think: a large portion of D&D's iconic wizard spell list is lifted directly from the 1963 Vincent Price film The Raven).

(I often think that modern indie RPGs could benefit from reviving this approach. Like, fuck textual consistency – just pick half a dozen of your favourite popular media characters without regard for the compatibility of the source material and work backwards to explain why these six random assholes are your game's playable archetypes!)

[sunshiinebeetle]

Plural Mars Analysis

This is just chapter 1 cause it's kind of late- let me know if you want more!! I have many thoughts on chapter 2 and 3 so far :]

I'll be posting pages of the comic for readability, but PLEASEEEE read it HERE!! I leave several pages out and it'd be really sad not to support the original.

It’s important to note here how the bunny plush very quickly switches from aggressive to hurt and scared. The aggression is a defense mechanism, but not one that Mars wants to use. It comes from fear of breaking their “normal”. Once it’s shown that Laika won’t be easily scared off, it stops and runs away. Akin to an opossum (which have a very weak bite strength) flashing its teeth. I believe that the bunny was never going to hit Laika, at least not very hard (especially when later it’s shown that Mars has extreme reactions to the idea of hurting people).

Ok very important 2 pages, cause SYMBOLISM!! Willow has mentioned before that they packed a lot of symbolism and hidden clues into Laika’s, especially involving Mars’ backstory in chapter 1. The motif of bunny, kitty, teddy is shown on these two pages, the second is the “intro” page for Mars. It’s not lost on me that these three plushies are in the debut shot. They’re a deep representation of them! This will be elaborated on later, but for now I’m going to break Mars down into 3 alters. Bunny (timid, flight response), Kitty (neutral/happy, protected from those emotions), and Teddy (serious, fight/fawn response). I’ll be referring to them by these names to keep the confusion to a minimum.

Here we see Teddy Mars holding the bunny plush (representing Bunny Mars) and once again trying to intimidate Laika into going away. This is a weaker attempt, and shows Teddy’s fawn response as well- they don’t want to offend Laika so they use polite language, but still ask a question that will help them understand how best to protect the system. They don’t drop their stars until Laika displays that she’s not a threat. Notice what Laika is saying and how Mars’ reaction shifts entirely…

This is because Bunny switches in! Teddy is still co-fronting (as they’re prone to do) to keep an eye on things, but generally lets Bunny lead the conversation. Right away you’ll notice that Mars’ claws go away. Teddy’s claws are often extended because they’re on edge and protective, but Bunny has softer paws (and a complex about hurting things). Teddy’s claws are out when they cast the magic because Bunny doesn’t use magic intentionally. Bunny seeks comfort from Laika as soon as they know she’s safe.

Arguably there’s a hint of Kitty Mars in here too, especially on the second page. Bunny’s body language is often very closed off and small, but when Mars offers to show Laika their room and toys, their posture opens up and their tone shifts!

During the first page Mars is very blended between Bunny and Kitty. This is to emotionally protect Mars as they walk past all the portraits of their past. I’ll explain more later, but Kitty Mars is walled off emotionally from (at least some of) their trauma, while Bunny bears the guilt for it. You can see them both emote during the conversation- up until Kitty blends in, Mars doesn’t really use any enthusiasm in their dialogue. Literally zero exclamation points. But between the two “oh!”s, Kitty peeks through in the conversation :]

Then there’s a bit of wind as Bunny talks more, subconsciously using their powers due to their melancholy. The mood gets more tense as they breach a painful topic.

Mars avoids the question, shutting down emotionally… Kitty is likely booted from the front due to the traumatic nature of the topic. This coincides with their arrival at Mars’ room, which is perhaps also a trigger for Kitty to leave. The lightheartedness from their headmate disappears and leaves Bunny feeling hurt.

This is the first time we see Bunny properly shut down. They try to confide in Laika about their guilt and seek comfort, but she doesn’t quite get it… Good effort though!! Bunny’s routine and mental state at this point is a form of self punishment. They can’t leave because they haven’t hurt enough to pay for it. But at the same time they desperately don’t want to be alone. They’d had fun meeting Laika, but since she can’t stay (that would be “selfish”) and Mars can’t leave (that would be “disobedient” and “too good for them”), they just get even more hurt when Laika gives them a non-solution that just reminds them of their loneliness. The reality dawning on them feels crushing.

Bunny’s subconscious magic spikes again. This provides a solution to their conundrum- it’s not their choice, but authority’s. They won’t have to tell Laika to leave, which would break their heart, playtime is simply over. Teddy comes back to help Bunny cope and not break down- their speech becomes more clipped and formal, and their expression neutralizes (except for when it cracks, showing Bunny’s feelings). Teddy’s fawn response also shows, asking Laika politely to do the same as them. BIG ol trauma response. Clearly this was the way that Mars survived every scary encounter before. It’s trained, and likely why Teddy split in the first place.

Teddy is polite again, and using their magic intentionally to make the encounter run smoothly. They keep giving Laika instructions so that nothing goes wrong. This behavior implies that they were punished over very small things, even hesitation.

More trauma responses!! Mars looks almost bored here, but it’s actually Teddy’s trained neutral expression. You can’t get yelled at for feeling things if you’re feeling nothing! Teddy is maintaining this to mask Bunny’s fear of being around their parents, but it’s a hard thing to do. As tension gets higher, Bunny’s expressions show through and they start shaking.

Bunny is resigned to riding out this encounter, but Laika can’t stand for it. She interrupts, which terrifies Teddy. She’s way out of line in their mind, and they don’t want anyone to get punished when they can simply take the hurt. Teddy snaps at Laika, using their powers on accident for once. When Laika gets hurt by this, Bunny gets scared for two reasons. 1. They hurt someone, a severe trigger for Bunny. 2. It wasn’t Bunny controlling the body in a situation where they were otherwise the main pilot. This is an objectively terrifying thing to happen, and there’s often a lot of emotional conflict about this in systems who don’t know what’s going on.

Bunny is triggered and shuts down once again. Teddy directs the magic to get Laika out of there and away from Bunny to help them calm down. The earrings doll tries to grab Laika, while the tie doll swipes at her; this implies that they were the more violent and impulsive of the two. Additionally, the tie doll hurting the earrings doll was likely an allusion to domestic abuse between Mars’ parents. However, both were abusive to Mars in their own ways.

Laika unintentionally invokes the royalty/fairy tale symbolism, which speaks to Bunny and cuts through their shutdown. Since their reality hurts so much for them, they find everything much easier to process in stories.

You could see this as Bunny breaking down, but I think it’s Teddy too. Throughout this chapter, Teddy has been nearby suppressing everyone’s emotional reactions to protect them. But now they give into the hurt and the guilt and the loneliness and finally let themself AND Bunny express how they feel. It’s only now that they accept that vulnerability that they can drop their intentional disguise of everything in town. They hid everything to keep Kitty and Bunny happy, to keep them safe. But now that there’s someone else to protect them, they let themself be a scared kid and all of their hard work crumbles under the stress of keeping everything together. (At the beginning of this chapter when Mars is introduced, Teddy was playing with Bunny to keep them happy and distracted. Bunny feels lonely despite their headmates company and is prone to spiraling when they feel bad, so part of Teddy’s job is to entertain them to keep the illusion of stability.) Anyways that's all for now :3 I'll probably do the rest of the comic later. Keep in mind that everything I say here is just my interpretation and I could definitely be wrong! Though it'd be fun to see how accurate I am hehe

obligatory @laikascomet tag <3 yes i'm the same guy who mentioned it on stream :]

[rustedleopard]

@northstarscowboyhat borrowing your tags here.

I feel like the fact that Chujin did this unintentionally is even worse.

Chujin loves Ceroba dearly; I can't see him consciously choosing to exclude making a room for her in their house. There's plenty of space in their mansion for Ceroba to have her own room--hell, he built the damn house, giving her her own room would've been as simple as adding onto the blueprints when he was planning it out. Kanako has her own wing that breaks the symmetry of the layout of the home (and so does Chujin's office, but it at least kinda matches with the kitchen on the other end.... kinda...) because he knew that Kanako wanted her own space with a big comfy bed right underneath the window where the the light from the Swelterstone can shine in and her own videogame(s) and...! and...!

And what does Ceroba want? If Chujin didn't provide Ceroba with her own space in the house, then it's likely because she didn't express any interests strongly enough that he felt like it warranted a room in their home. Ceroba cooks. Ceroba cleans. Ceroba tucks Kanako into bed. Ceroba is the dutiful wife of Chujin and is nothing else outside of that in their relationship. You can see that with how Chujin is willing to get Ceroba involved in the illegal and dangerous work that killed him but begs Ceroba to not involve Kanako, their daughter, who "needs to live a happy life unaffected by [his] endeavors." He asks Ceroba to do this for him because she is his loyal wife and despite all the odds stacked against her, he knows she'll jump through hoops to get it done. But Kanako deserves to be happy.

The Ketsukane mansion drives me a bit nuts. You've already heard me talk about how Chujin used up his savings from his time in the Steamworks to build it but also just.

Ceroba admits that she initially found the estate to be too big for her tastes; she assumes that the size was Chujin's way of insinuating that they have a larger family together. This was Chujin's grand gesture of love, a passion project and his way of providing the best of the best for his family rolled into one. But, even though it wasn't his intention, the task of providing financially for the family fell onto Ceroba's lap. Every inch of it is the hallmark of craftsmanship, it's practically a palace. There's a kotatsu and fireplace in the heart of it even though the climate is far too warm to warrant those things. Chujin crafted every inch of Kanako's room with loving intention, right down to the video games, and he gets two office spaces for himself, and meanwhile Ceroba has... a closet full of clothing. Ceroba calls the garden he grew outside "almost like a reflection of [Chujin's] own SOUL." When Chujin started dying from the serum he created using a human child's SOUL, his garden started wilting and dying as well. There's an office that Chujin used for all the secrets he didn't want to share with his family baked right into the foundation of the home and right on top of it was the table that the family sat together and ate dinner at.

[mreowsu]

BANGS

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summary · have you ever wondered why and when sae started wearing his baby bangs up? :) cw · itoshi sae x fem!reader, español convos r google translated, please correct me for any mistranslations and i apologize in advance, both are 14-15 in this since i speculate the reason started all the way back, hopefully, once the mangaka reveals more of sae's backstory in españa, he isn't far too emo yet at this age wc · 2.5k

Sae had never been one for vanity. His appearance was something he wore like his jersey—unremarkable in his eyes, but a source of endless fascination for others.

He’d stick to the basics—clean-cut, effortless, and sharp enough without even trying. Though, his fans obsessed over every detail, from the sharpness of his jawline to the way his bangs, short and neat, fell softly over his forehead, framing his teal eyes. To Sae, all of this was incidental—just another part of his preference for simplicity.

It was one of those days, during a rare quiet (courtesy of you) evening at the academy dorms. Dinner had been a casual affair, with nothing much to do afterward, and as you wandered back to your room, the brightest idea struck you: why not pay a visit to—bascially, your only friend—at the other side of the academy housing?

When you were both scouted at the ripe age of 13 to play in Spain, both of you had left behind everything you knew—your families, your home, your language. The sudden plunge into an entirely different environment had been jarring. The culture, the food, the constant buzz of español around you—it was overwhelming. High expectations pressed down on your shoulders, with the academy’s reputation and dreams of a professional career constantly looming.

There was no support system to fall back on. Your parents were thousands of miles away in Japan, unable to offer more than occasional video calls and mailed letters. The club staff and academy members tried, in their own way, to act as mentors and parental figures, but it wasn’t the same. The homesickness, the struggle to adapt, and the pressure to perform all felt crushing. Conversations had been stilted and awkward, especially with the two of you still learning to speak in broken, halting español. But over a year later, you’d found a rhythm. When no one else understood, he did. You both knew what it felt like to miss home, to feel like an outsider, to be surrounded by noise but still feel alone.

As cliche as it sounds, in the end; it was you and, annoyingly, Itoshi Sae against the world.

The male dorms were quieter than you expected, a stillness hanging in the air that made your footsteps feel far louder than they were. You had no business being here, not really, but that never stopped you before. And besides, Itoshi Sae didn’t seem to mind your intrusions. Or so you told yourself.

The sharp knock you gave was met with his voice, calm and cool as ever.

“Come in.”

You opened the door to find him sitting at his desk, the glow of his laptop casting shadows across his face. His bangs shifted with the turn of his head, teal eyes flicking up with an expression that was neither surprised nor annoyed—just Sae. Acknowledging you before returning to whatever analysis or footage he was engrossed in.

“You again.” he said, his voice neutral, almost bored.

“You should be honored, really,” you poised, breezing past his room like it was yours too. “And unfortunately, you’re my only option Sae.” You drawled.

“Lucky me,” he said dryly, though he didn’t tell you to leave. “You know, most people knock and wait for an invitation.”

“You’ve never needed to invite me before,” you said, settling onto the edge of his bed. “Why start now?”

He didn’t argue, but the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. For all his complaints, you knew Sae appreciated having you around. You were the only piece of home he had here, just as he was for you.

No matter how much the world outside demanded of you—how high the expectations, how foreign the environment—in moments like this, with him, you could breathe.

Sae's dorm was a plain space that reflected the utilitarian nature of the academy housing, yet much derived of personality compared to yous: sparsely decorated but immaculate, everything in its place. A couple of freshly folded jerseys on the shelf, a framed photo by the bed—nothing excessive, just functional and quietly personal. It was so… Sae.

“Well, you’re early.” He remarked, shutting the laptop and leaning back in his chair, his eyes briefly meeting yours before shifting to the clock on his desk.

“Dude, it’s literally evening, and everyone just finished dinner,” you exasperated, rolling your eyes.

He shrugged, a faint smirk at his lips. “For you, that’s early. You usually show up when you’re about to pass out from boredom.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended, before mirroring his smirk. “Damn right I did.”

“Of course,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You need to lighten up,” you teased, flopping around his bed unceremoniously. “This place feels like a showroom. Do you even live here?”

He rolled his eyes, standing up to retrieve something from his shelf. “It’s a dorm, not a hotel. What do you expect?”

“A little personality wouldn’t hurt,” you quipped, watching as he settled back into his chair.

He glanced at you, expression calm but faintly amused. “If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

You grinned, knowing full well you aren’t going anywhere. “Nah, I think I’ll stay. Someone has to make this place feel alive.”

Sae sighed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “Just don’t make a mess.”

“Right… So, what’s the plan?” You asked, kicking off your shoes and leaning back on your elbows. “Am I supposed to sit here in silence while you work on drills in your head?”

He stood, walking over with that signature calmness of his, and sat criss-cross beside you on the bed. The mattress barely dipped under his weight, as if even gravity couldn’t unbalance him.

“Maybe,” he teased, voice soft but laced with dry humor. “Unless you have a better idea.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone and shoving it toward him. “How about we pick a movie? Something that isn’t Taxi Driver for once.” As much as you loved the movie, it was getting repetitive, and you were starting to feel like you knew every line by heart.

Sae glanced at the phone, then back at you, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “You don’t like it anymore?” he teased, his voice the usual mix of indifference and amusement.

“I love it, but I don’t need to watch it every time I’m over here,” you replied, scrolling through the options. “We’ve literally watched it four times this week.”

“Then pick something better.” He leaned back against the headboard, his posture as controlled as always, like he had no intention of exerting effort in this decision. But you could tell by the way his teal eyes followed your movements that he was paying attention. Typical Sae.

You sighed dramatically. “You know, it’s a lot more fun when you at least pretend to care.”

Sae raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking to the phone before returning your sigh ten times more dramatic, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Fine. But if it’s boring, we’re switching back to drills.”

You picked a new movie, something lighthearted, easy to watch, and settled back against the pillows, feeling oddly content.

The lights were killed, and the room slipped into a cozy darkness, save for the faint glow of the screen. Everything was ready to go and the movie started. But as it played on, your attention drifted back to Sae, completely absorbed in the film. His burgundy hair fell slightly over his eyes, distracting you for a moment. Without thinking, you reached over and brushed it back into place, the soft strands slipping through your fingers.

Sae’s eyes flickered incredulously toward you, but made no move to pull away.

He was uncharacteristically still as you perched beside him, fingers idly trailing through the silky strands of his hair. Your eyes flickered to his back and shoulders, noticing his now stiff posture. Though he didn’t speak, you could feel the subtle tension in his frame.

You murmured to appease him, “Sae, hold still.” The soft brush of your fingers through his hair seemed to ease the tension, so you continued with slow, deliberate strokes. When you brushed his bangs back, his eyes became the centerpiece of his face—sharp, vivid teals. They were like swirling oceans caught in the throes of a storm, deep and endless, with flecks of light dancing like sunlight on restless waves.

There was an intensity there, the kind that made you feel as though he could see right through you, peeling back every layer with a single glance. But beyond the sharpness, there was something softer hidden in their depths— like the stillness just before dawn.

Without the curtain of his bangs to soften the edges, his gaze became piercing, almost dangerous, like shards of sea glass—beautiful, but with a sharpness that could cut if you weren’t careful.

It was impossible to look away, not when his eyes held that kind of quiet power, commanding attention without a single word.

But then, Sae blinked.

He looked up at you with a slight frown.

"What are you doing?”

You felt the trance slip away, leaving you almost disappointed at how quickly reality snapped back into place.

You blinked back at him, brushing your hands off like you hadn’t just been lost in his eyes for longer than you cared to admit. “Nothing,” you replied innocently, tucking a few strands back into place and brushing his bangs, so they no longer fell over his forehead. “Your hair was in your face.”

“It wasn’t bothering me.” He said, though he didn’t pull away or stop you.

“Yeah, but it was bothering me.” You shot back, smoothing the strands until they stayed where you wanted them. His hair was surprisingly easy to manage, soft and silky under your touch. You backed up to admire your work.

His hair stood upright now, his whole face on display—sharp lines, ahem piercing eyes, the kind of look that stopped hearts if you weren’t careful. Gulp. “You look good like this. Cooler, maybe.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his attention seemingly back on the screen, but the slight tilt of his head toward your hand betrayed him. He wasn’t just tolerating it—he didn’t mind.

He scoffed, “You’re ruining it.” He finally uttered, voice flat. Though he didn’t make a move to fix it.

“Ruining what? You barely even care about how it looks.” You teased, letting your fingers drift through his hair one last time before settling back against the headboard.

His lips twitched, almost a smile but not quite. “Maybe. But now you have to watch the movie. No more distractions.”

“Fine, fine.” You smiled, turning your attention back to the screen. Yet something about the quiet approval in your gaze stayed with him.

From then on, Sae started keeping his bangs up.

It was a subtle yet significant change that didn’t go unnoticed. His fans speculated endlessly about the reason behind the new style—some attributing it to his growing maturity, others to a shift in his on-field persona. But smugly, only Itoshi Sae knew the truth.

-----

The stadium roared with life as the final whistle blew, signaling another victory for the Re Al youth team. Sae, as always, was the picture of composure. His hair, damp with sweat, stayed stubbornly defying gravity in its upright style, the way he’d styled it before the game.

You watched from the stands, pride swelling in your chest amidst the thrumming energy of the crowd. Unlike your usual matches with the female Re Al youth team, tonight was all about the boys. Your district didn’t have a match, so you’d ended up in the crowd, cheering for a game you didn’t have to play in.

Sae’s teal eyes scanned the rows until they found yours. He didn’t need to smile or wave—just the faintest nod in your direction. It was so like him, subtle and understated, but somehow, and alarmingly, made your heart flutter all the same.

As the team took their victory lap around the field, Sae broke away, making a bee-line toward you. The crowd stirred, curious eyes following his every steps.

When he reached you, there was no hesitation. You leaned over the railing, your fingers instinctively brushing through his sweaty hair. His bangs, stiff from hairspray, you assume, and effort, softened under your touch, falling slightly out of place.

For a second, everything stilled. The roaring crowd, the flashing cameras—it all melted into a backdrop as Sae stood there, letting you fix him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The stadium fell into a stunned silence before the spell broke, erupting into cheers and whistles.

One of his teammates, whose name you didn't really care enough to remember, shouted from the field. "¡Oye, Sae! ¡No sabía que tenías un peluquero de guardia!" Oi, Sae! Didn’t know you had a hairdresser on call!

Hollering followed, and Sae shot them a quick, unimpressed glare. He turned back to you, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks, leaning just a little closer. “You’ve made quite th scene,” he said, voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, your fingers still lingering in his hair. “Can’t help it. You looked like you needed it.”

For the first time that night, Sae let out the faintest chuckle—a soft, almost invisible sound that felt like a treasure meant just for you.

When he walked back to his team, his bangs slightly tousled from your touch, the teasing began almost immediately.

“No sabía que nuestro Sae-chan podía verse tan humano.” Didn’t know our Sae-chan could look so human. They teased, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“O tan mandilón.” Or so whipped.

“Ni siquiera puedo imaginar que pueda sonreír así.” Can't even fathom he could smile like that.

“¿Es esto lo que el amor le hace a un chico?” Is this what love does to a guy? One of them added with a dramatic shake of his head, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

Sae ignored them, of course. But as he glanced back at you one last time, there was something different in his expression—something warm and quiet, a look reserved, meant only for you.

Meanwhile, the crowd’s whistles and playful jeers had you feeling just as flustered. Your cheeks burned, and you could tell by the way Sae’s ears tinted pink that he wasn’t immune to it either.

It was a simple thing, really. A touch, a moment, a look. Nothing too out of the ordinary for the two of you. After all, you were just friends. But amidst the crowd’s cheering, the teasing of his teammates, in the way Sae’s gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary, and in the way your heart raced, it felt like there was more to it.

And then the whispers started.

Backstage chatter, curious glances, and the media’s ever-watchful eye. They’d always known you and Sae were quite close, two prodigies from Japan.. childhood friends, even. But now... now, it seemed the world was starting to wonder if there was more to your bond than just friendship. Perhaps it was.. puppy love? Was there something more to the way you interacted? The teasing? The hair stunt you pulled? Was it all casual?

For now, that was all it was. Just speculation. But for Sae, maybe that small, fleeting interaction was everything.

Maybe.

And maybe that’s why, no matter how many times his teammates teased or fans speculated, Sae never explained why his bangs were always styled up.

-----

© 2024 mreowsu

HAPPY NEW YEARS! 🥳 🎉 🪅 sorry that i didn't write the way i usually do—in a poetic sense, anyway. This was just pure unfettered bluelock brainrot and the last epiodde from s2 had me going haywire i swear the animators were in the flow ong 😭🙏

[thydungeongal]

So okay, my harping on about D&D 5e actually being relatively complex isn't to say "and that's why D&D 5e is bad," it's to address the idea that D&D 5e is easy to learn (it's clearly not: despite its market dominance a lot of people actively resist learning it and also a lot of people are also teaching it wrong). But there is more to it than that: D&D 5e has implemented design decisions that make it harder to learn than some of its predecessors.

Part of this is down to the insistence on using natural language for what is, ultimately, still a heavily keyworded system, meaning to ambiguity arising from when it's unclear whether a given phrasing refers to a keyword.

Part of it is down to absolutely bizarre moon logic that has actually made the game harder to understand. During an early playtest the game had a relatively simple action economy: a character could move and do a single action. This was done to address the "difficulty" of the action economy of D&D 4e. Now, 4e actually has a pretty dang simple action economy of a standard, move, and minor action; the reason it tends to slow people down is because it leads to analysis paralysis, with players trying to optimize those three actions to the best of their ability. So the slowing down effect of the action economy of 4e was actually misidentified as it being too difficult.

Now the simplification of the action economy into action and move is actually something I can get behind. But once the designers realized that dang 4e was actually kind of cooking when it introduced an extra action characters could do in addition to a movement and an attack and they were forced to deviate from their action and move model. And they introduced the bonus action.

The bonus action is, in many ways, similar to D&D 4e's minor action, but worse in every possible way. Bonus actions come with a bunch of limitations, exceptions, special edge cases governing when they can take place during a round, some of them have special triggers that need to happen first before you can use them. And then there's the entirely artificial limitation on number of spells a character can cast per round which adds unnecessary complexity.

All of which is to say: arguably more complex games can be easier to teach than D&D 5e because they are actually better written and make use of design techniques that actually improve learning, such as templating and keywording, and don't have bizarro universe action economies that make Rolemaster 2e's action economy seem relatively straightforward.

[dingodad]

love transmasc terezi analysis [thumbs up emoji] i read her as tmasc nonbinary but that might be me reading too much into the way she often forces herself into binary choices to her detriment OR has them forced on her (heads tails symbolism, the game over timeline vriska choice, dave vs karkat as 'romances to pursue', and more recently the way she acts as outsider and agent to both rose and dirk in beyond canon, the two forces of progenitor masculinity and femininity on deltritus). i think it's interesting how she views servitude to the empire as aspirational and i think that is definitely got some gender stuff going on there given preexisting reads of the caste system as misogyny. if you'd ever like to expand more on terezi as transmasculine, i'd love to hear it!

i don't think you are reading too deep into anything lol once upon a time it was pretty standard to remark upon the pointed androgyny of terezi's design so idk why i was getting yelled at for pointing it out just now. I never thought to connect this to her role as balance-keeper though.. if you think about it even the fact that her coin is called a "Cae[s]ar" but depicts a female figure seems emblematic of the illusion of dichotomy it offers

I've mentioned before that in general I'm less interested in figuring out what a character 'is' than I am in identifying how they relate to and participate in gender as a hierarchy of power, so I don't know if I would call the following a "transmasculine" read of Terezi per se. But it is a read on how I think Terezi plays masculine gender roles, or - to be crude - 'role plays' as male. So I definitely think it lends itself to interpretation of Terezi as a character with a masculine or androgynous identity

Expanding on what I first tentatively approached in this post and briefly followed up with my (apparently controversially) vague commentary on Terezi's clothing, my conception of Terezi's relationship to gender is largely informed by her relationship to the Knight role, which she implicitly tries to emulate when she role-plays as Redglare (the Knight of Mind) and which - as we understand it via Dave - is tied up in all these gendered expectations of heroism. Her proximity to gendered/hemospectral power absolutely plays a part too, though: the heroic Knighthood Terezi enthusiastically associates with being a legislacerator (see: the 'back in the day we could just kill criminals on the spot' shit) is really just systemic violence she is allowed to participate in by the blueness of her blood. But what she's apparently blind to is that - as you say - participating in that violence is subjecting herself to the violence of those higher on the patriarchal hierarchy. It's obvious to us, viewing Redglare's story as a cautionary tale about Terezi's fate, that the legislacerator is little more than the Grand Highblood's slave in the form of an attack dog; meanwhile Terezi obliviously treats Gamzee like a fascinating little oddity to play her games with, and is thus totally blindsided when he flips the script on her and reminds her of her place. Masculinity is a pool she's thrown into the deep end of, and Gamzee holds her head under the water with a grin.

Latula's bizarre struggle with the 'cool girl' persona is just Terezi and Redglare's complex of empowerment-disempowerment magnified to the ridiculous. The 'cool girl' finds acceptance among male peers by shedding off those cultural residues of femininity which are seen as undesirable, but for all her efforts can never truly become 'one of the boys' - for her gender transgression she is placed simultaneously outside of and beneath both classes. The gag about Latula not wanting to be "left hanging" even positions failure to be recognised as 'cool' ('like a boy') as a matter of life and death!

[taro-bae]

TWST Rant (!Spoilers!)

I was wondering about the cast of twisted wonderland in regards to their wealth and status. The majority of the twst boys are well off and of high status, but the whole wealth system of twst varies. I was trying to place the cast in order of who might actually be the wealthiest, so this is a little analysis rant!

Wealth and status obviously vary, Royal wealth would obviously be considered more valuable, so I would say Malleus and Leona would be presumably the richest since they are direct decendants of royal families. Malleus considerably ranking 1st, in my opinion, since he is to inherit the throne as first prince, while Leona is the second prince and holds just slightly less power in terms of a hypothetical hierarchy.

We all know from book 6 that Idia (and ortho) is from the Shroud family and will inherit the household and STYX. His grandmother was the original director of STYX that was later passed down to Idia's father. The organisation is highly influential and it is speculated for the Shroud family to be as rich if not more than the Asim family.

After Idia, I would put Kalim. We aren't exactly sure who is actually wealthier between the two but I would say the Shroud family directing STYX would be more influential on a larger scale. Kalim is born to a merchant family, I feel like some of the fandom collectively considers him a prince, but that is simply not true. Kalim is from a very wealthy family of merchants with some royal relatives, but he himself, if not royal in any ways. Kalim himself states "the Asims aren’t royalty, and I’m not a prince. I’ve got some relatives in the royal family, though.” The Asims are clearly very well off with many connections (even how kalim was accepted in NRC through his place being payed for presumably, most likely for connection since the family are merchants).

The following is more tricky for me to place. Vil is a different kind of rich, scaling more of fame and popularity. He's a world-known model with a famous actor father. He is from a privileged status in the show bizz and made a name for himself. We know that he's well travelled and known, from a young age his father always took him all over the world to establish connections and so on. However, I also see Rook being not that far off him in terms of wealth. Rook doesn't exactly have the same level of fame as the other characters, but the Hunt family has Villas in EVERY country within TWST. In Book 6, Rook suggested to MC and Epel to use warp pads or transporters from one of the villas to a closer destination. The transporter situation, according to Epel, is a big deal that requires permission to even have, let alone in every country. So Rook is of very high wealth and has direct ties to the government but is less talked about in that regard compared to other characters. So I don't know if he would be higher than Vil? It's possible.

Riddle is from a noble family with parents who are doctors. I would say they are rich. It is speculated by some that Riddle could somehow be tied to the Queen of Hearts, but it's not specified that he's royalty anywhere. Azul, in my opinion, would follow after. His family does make money, his mother owning a restaurant and stepfather being a lawyer. Azul himself runs Montre Lounge on campus as well as his shady deals. Azul is more bussiness wealthy out of the boys. I would asign Floyd and Jade alongside him. Even running of the fact that Floyd legit has top branded shoes in his vignette. I speculate that Floyd and Jade might actually be wealthier than that (I love the Mafia headcanons), and Jade is able to get expensive gifts and stuff. I wouldn't go as far to say that the Leech family is totally loaded, but they are definelty powerful within the Coral Sea.

The rest of the list is hard to place and up for debate.

Lilia has the advantage of being the oldest of the cast living for over 700 years and being a general to the royals. He has direct ties to Malleus, but I can't exactly place where he would be. In terms of hierarchy, he's a bat type of fae, which we're considered lower class in the fae community at the time, so he would have been seen as less by other members of his society. But he most likely has connections and ties. Dare I say if he wanted to sell his artifacts, he'll definelty be hella rich, lmao.

Clover family, I think they are a typical working class family. They have their own bakery bussiness but work constantly according to Trey, so that must mean they have income but one that you have to keep working for. Trey talks about that when they were busy, he would cook or get his younger brother tickets to spelldrive on allowance money and that parents would stock up on ingredients. Based on that, I would say Trey is off on a more "enough" to live a sustained lifestyle type of money. Like a more casual type of family with a few children (again, children need more money to be sustained)

Next, I would place all the connected working characters like Sebek, Silver, and Jamil. This seems considerably low, but hear me out. They are not exactly poor characters. They are very directly connected to noble people, though. Sebek has a military connected family right under Draconias' command as well puts both silver and him fairly high up. They are not independently wealthy but can experience more luxury lifestyles because of who they serve. Their status consists of being guards of a royal persona. Therefore, they hold a portion of recognition. Jamils case is complicated. The Viper family is born into servitude and are highly dependent on them in that manner. In a way, they could be counted as "working class," but I beg to differ in a way. Working for the Asim does benefit living standards and experiences, for example, even with being able to access better quality foods, living style, etc. It obviously comes with the downside like jamil risking his life for kalims safety (e.g., being a posion tester and constantly doing labour). In a way, despite not having personal property like Kalim, Jamil is still exposed to more luxurious items, products, etc. And it's hard to judge where he is on the richest ranking because he's directly bound to Kalim, almost like a hypothetical "contract" he's born into. More of being born into a rich environment but not being wealthy himself.

Lastly, poor baby Ruggie. Ruggie, being born in poverty, in the slums is the only character in NRC who is specified to be poor. Being born in poverty with his parents both dying early on, he was surrounded by other slum children who he considers siblings and often had to fight for food.He survived through hustling different jobs later on to work his way up. We know he hustles at Montre Lounge and for Leona to make any money and does try to make a bargain for any opportunity. Out of the entire cast, Ruggie is canonically poor.

Epel,Jack, Ace, Cater, and Deuce are ones who are a bit more confusing because they have less information on them. I've been thinking about Jack. His status is not exactly clear, and I can't find any evidence to pinpoint his social standing much. I would place him above Ace. In my analysis, I considered that Jack met vil when they were children, and i think Jack could even be higher on the list. i just can't find anything to clarify that. I would assume vil would have lived in a fairly well-off environment since he was a kid, so the neighbourhood must have been at least middle class or something. Just running off that, I would say Jack might be more middle class to average. He does have multiple siblings that need money to sustain. Ace states before to azul in a luxe couture vingette that he can't "afford the high-brand clothes." So I would say he's off a more average family type of income. With in this rank, I would also place Epel. He did mislead his dormates into believing that he's a noble and Vil suggesting epel to not use his dialect to not give away his actual position. His family aren't mages, which maybe within twisted wonderland would be lower class. But they are farmers from Harveston. Harveston isn't well known but does produce apples that does provide them with some form of trade and income for sure. Cater talks of not having enough money sometimes, but he's a very dual type of character that tends to mask things a lot. I think he's maybe just above average, actually. He claims to occasionally not have money. Someone let me know his father is a banker, but it's unclear how much the Diamond family actually owns or makes, but I think he hides his true position. We know Deuce has a mother who works with the White Rabbit logo trade chain. There's no indication to pinpoint where the Spade family is at, so I would also say around average. We know Deuces father walked out on them so Dylla is the working mother, I'm assuming the family is also a type to have enough money to live but no extra to spend (on stuff like luxury items). Deuce definitely got his wallet up after fixing Malleus's tamagochi and getting some pricey gems from him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

If you know any information on some characters, feel free to share!

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

hi!! I adored your recent tech fic “more than calculations” abd was wondering if I could request something between tech and a reader who doesn’t flirt or do all the romance things kind of how tech is? I love the idea of them having the same way of showing each other love and they just understand each other even if others don’t really understand how they are together! I hope that made a bit of sense 🙈🩷 thank you!! 💗

“Exactly Us”

Tech x Reader

“Are you two… together?”

Omega blinked up at you, head tilted with that signature mix of innocent curiosity and surgical precision, like she was investigating the oddities of adult behavior again.

Tech glanced up from his datapad, not the least bit ruffled. You didn’t look away from the gear you were calibrating, either. A beat passed.

“Yes,” you both said in perfect unison.

Omega squinted, unconvinced.

“But you don’t do anything!” she exclaimed, arms flailing slightly. “No hand-holding, no kissing, no—ugh—staring at each other like Wrecker and that woman from the food stalls!”

You shrugged. “We fixed the water pump system together last night. That was plenty.”

Tech nodded. “And we enjoy our shared quiet time between 2100 and 2130 hours. Typically on the cliffside bench.”

Omega made a face. “That’s it?”

“That is a significant amount of bonding,” Tech replied, tapping at his datapad. “Just because it doesn’t conform to more overt romantic displays does not mean the bond is any less valid.”

You added, without looking up, “We don’t need to prove anything.”

Omega grumbled and wandered off, muttering something about how weird grownups were. You smirked faintly.

When the datapad made a soft chime, Tech turned it toward you. It was a thermal reading—your shared analysis project on the geothermal vents near the northern cliffs.

“You were correct,” he said, adjusting his goggles. “There is a secondary vent system. I suspect it branches beneath the island’s reef shelf.”

You leaned closer to the screen. “Nice. That’ll stabilize the water temps around the farms. You wanna go check it out?”

“Affirmative,” he said. Then, after a pause: “I enjoy when we do these things together.”

You looked up at him and nodded, your version of “I do too.”

The two of you set out across Pabu, walking in companionable silence. You didn’t talk much. You didn’t have to. There was a rhythm, an ease to your presence beside each other. When you handed Tech a scanner without being asked, or when he adjusted your toolbelt with a small, thoughtful flick of his fingers — that was your version of affection.

Sometimes, Wrecker would nudge Crosshair (visiting, grumbling, but always watching) and whisper, “How do they even like each other?”

Crosshair would reply, “They don’t need to. They get each other.”

Later, the sun dipped low, casting warm gold across the cliffs. You and Tech sat side by side on your usual bench. No words. Just a datapad between you, exchanging quiet theories, occasionally pointing at the sea when a bird swooped or a current shifted strangely.

Tech finally broke the silence.

“Most people… expect something different from a relationship. More expression. More effort.”

You looked at him. “This is effort. Just a different kind.”

His lips curled slightly at the edge — his version of a full grin.

“I concur.”

After a moment, he added, “You are the first person I’ve encountered who does not require translation of my silence.”

You gave a small smile and leaned just enough to bump your shoulder against his. “And you’re the first person who doesn’t expect me to say things I don’t feel like saying out loud.”

He reached over and adjusted your sleeve where it had folded weirdly. Not romantic. Not flashy. Just… quietly right.

Behind you, somewhere near the beach, Omega was laughing, chasing a crab and antagonising Crosshair.

But here, in this quiet little corner of peace, you and Tech sat in absolute understanding.

No need to explain. No need to perform. Just existing.

Exactly as you were.

Exactly together.

[ficcerspam]

Kitten Kisses

DCxDP : Dead Tired, Stray!Danny Phantom, love square identity shenanigans (sort of)

Week 1: Indirect Kiss

===

There is a security camera set up at Tim’s desk. 

It’s mostly to ensure that Tim actually leaves his desk, nowadays, but the genuine concern was something nobody really thought could qualify as a necessity. 

Tim is young, but it’s undeniable that he’s a genius. Sadly, that did not mean certain visitors or members of the board didn’t take his age as carte blanche to just rummage around in his desk for no reason. 

After the 5th time Tim noticed his things had been moved (they would have found nothing, Tim was very meticulous regarding Wayne Enterprises documents) something had to give. 

So. Security camera. 

After the first month of its implementation, nobody was fool enough to get caught over some useless files and a surprisingly thoroughly encrypted computer system. Nobody important, at least. 

Babs likes to hack into it, sometimes, to make sure Tim is home on time and not working late. Bruce sometimes hacks in just to check in, watch him work or eat because he was a creep, but Tim can hardly throw such large rocks from his glass house. For the most part, it’s more decoration than anything. 

Until tonight, that is. Tim gets a little ping! signaling movement at his WE desk. He’s just gotten home from patrol, mask already off and cape halfway unclipped with hastily ungloved hands.

Perplexed by the midnight alert, Tim pulls up the feed onto his set up at home. There’s hardly anything worth hacking into, considering the computer there is more of a remote in type of system, rather than an actual computer to be used like the one at the Nest.

And yet still. There they are. Tim would recognize that silhouette anywhere: Stray. 

He watches as, at first, only that skin tight black suit with white accents entered the screen, the rogue thief’s toned torso curved alluringly, signature white clawed gloves lightly scraping along the desk as he travels from one end to the other—not hard enough to leave any trace, but enough for the skrrrrch rasp out. 

There’s a tap of a claw, before the screen fills as Stray bends over, and gods, what a sight that is to see. Stray has an almost prehensile cat’s tail, and it swayed and curled over itself in a way that seemed hypnotic. Long glowing white hair that falls over his shoulder with two black tufted cat ears that seems to actually move, eyes barely visible behind bright neon green goggles—but most importantly a new addition: blood red lipstick. 

Tim stares as those red, red lips curve into a smile, whispering a soft “Hey, Red. Miss me?”

Tim can feel his pulse jump, because he did. He really did. 

They’ve been dancing around each other, ever since the vigilante figured out Stray’s M.O. 

The rogue was only stealing paranormal artifacts, or objects that were stolen via grave robbing. None of the other Bats had figured it out until Tim had told them, considering Stray’s first few hits were on a handful of Rich People. The items were so scattered, and had nothing of real importance that could connect them. 

But the Rich were angry, and though that was hardly anything to be alerted by, it made for an ornery work environment. The Bats hadn’t stepped up, hadn’t felt the need to, until certain museums were getting hit too. A couple civilians even, here or there, until finally something was stolen from Batman himself—something they had kept at Wayne Enterprises to be handed over to Constantine for analysis.

Selina was no help either, simply stating that every cat’s got to have their secrets—all but confirming that the new rogue on the scene was Selina’s. 

Red Robin had cornered Stray, or rather, Stray had let him, and they almost—there was a moment…But then Catwoman had come, urgent, saying something about a sister. 

And then Stray hadn’t been seen in weeks.

Tim shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts from the fog those cherry red lips cast over him. Still, he can’t help but say yes. Even if only in his mind. 

“I missed you, dolled myself up and everything,” those sinful red lips do a little pout as a delicate claw twirls a strand of that silky hair, conjuring up so many images that Tim involuntarily stands up, as if to immediately leave. “Doesn’t red look so good on me?”

Fuck, but it does. And then it clicks. Hastily, Tim taps a couple buttons, reclipping his cape and putting his mask back on. Once his gloves are back on he pulls up the feed onto his phone, grappling his way over to his office as if being chased.

Because if Stray was at Tim Wayne’s desk, calling him Red through the feed, that meant—that meant he knew.

“Sadly, I can’t stay.” Red Robin vaults out the Nest, keeping half an eye on the feed as those pouty lips talk to him, watching as Stray perches himself delicately on the desk. There’s a sly smile now, though Tim can’t help but follow the long lines of the rogue’s body instead, with his legs crossed, leaning on one delicately clawed hand, head tilted coquettishly.

“But I’ve got a present for you, loverboy.” Red is almost there, just a couple blocks away, as Stray pulls out what looked like a business card with the hand he isn’t leaning on, bringing it up to those distracting red lips. 

“I heard you like games!” Stray bares his teeth in a fanged smile, “Find me, and it’s a date.”

Red Robin is on the WE building now, scaling down to break into the usual window, silently prowling his way quickly through the halls. He watches as Stray winks, giving the card a little kiss. When he grins Red could see the rouge was smeared a little, and somehow that made it so much more enticing. Stray places the card back on the desk before smoothly getting up and exiting stage left just as the vigilante skids to an arrival in front of his office door. 

He burst into the office, only to find it empty. He immediately went to the nearest window, trying to spot the rogue, but as always Stray is quick to disappear without a trace. RR suspects that Stray is some kind of meta, but hasn't gathered enough evidence yet. 

Out of leads, he swiftly makes his way to his desk, where the business card lay innocently, face down. On the back of it, a tantalizing red lip mark. 

Red picks it up, turning it over to see a time and place typed onto it—an invitation, then, not a business card at all. He stares for a second, feeling a smile grow on his face, before he flips the card over again to stare at the kiss mark. 

He brings the card to his lips, softly kissing it, eyes closed and content. He can almost feel the warmth left over, feel a hand caress his neck along his spine. Soon. 

He tucks the card into one of the pockets on his belt, feeling excited and suddenly rejuvenated. 

Maybe he could do another loop—maybe a couple, he doesn’t care—before getting back to the Nest to research. 

He has a date to score, and research is so much easier when he doesn’t have to deal with euphoria. 

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