#I’m fighting the war on tumblr users on the side of tumblr users

[friendlycursedspaceotter]

Flagged an ad today in the ace tag

🎶doing my part🎶

Don’t really know what I’m doing but feel free to give tips and tell me what to look for?

yeah

fellow tag cleaners let’s go

[awritingotaku]

The Unspoken Rules of Tumblr

As explained by someone who joined around 2019

Tumblr for all intents and purposes is not like other social media websites. Think the “I’m not like other girls” but they are not like other girls and it’s for the better. Having lurked around different social media platforms for years, I picked up on the spoken and unspoken rules that make this website more bearable than other ones. So here’s a list that will be important to new users.

Block but do not engage. Yes the rule that is understood by much of the user base and I think actually is one of the reasons why fandoms here are actually not that bad. If you remember any rule off this list, make it be this one. Why is this rule so important? Because flame wars often don’t change minds and it just creates a toxic environment. If you find someone that infuriates you, don’t attack them and just block. If they are really bad and pose a threat to people, collect evidence and do a warning post explaining why that person is dangerous but still block them.

Everyone here is a clown, even the famous ones. There is no superiority here. The number of followers you have often connects to how much of a clown you are. Now being a clown here isn’t always bad, many famous ones here make people’s days with their posts, but it’s not a contest here. In fact, fame is often considered a curse and once you have engrained yourself into the collective unconscious, you will mainly be remembered for why you became a famous tumblr clown.

Please hide your likes and follows. Don’t know how that started but it’s a thing here.

Likes do nothing, instead reblog. If it doesn’t fit the theme of your main blog, make a side blog for your reblogs.

Use tags. Tags are key here for both as a blog runner and blog reader. It allows you to quickly sort through things and see what you posted.

You don’t have to censor words like die or sex. We instead have trigger warnings tags that people can specifically block out if they don’t want to see content with stuff like that.

You want to been seen and see cool things, the algorithm is not going to do that for you. Instead you have to actively seek out what tags and blogs to follow to get the content you want. It’s more human and unlike most social media you gotta interact with people. If your feed is negative, it’s likely due to who you follow.

Don’t have a blank blog, the obvious bot usernames, or default profile pics. We are so used to fighting bots that we will auto block because of these. Some bots if you just try to click their username will get you viruses so we are careful.

Never forget the tumblr roots. Superwholock while often thought long dead still has a lasting memory here. It’s the websites heritage. Also add Hannibal and My Little Pony.

There is no cringe here for the most part. X Reader writers are just as valid as the artists here. We are all clowns because we are on this site.

Be kind and remember, people are just as human as you.

This has been you guide to Tumblr! I hope you enjoy this hellsite as much as I have.

[jewvian]

I’m glad for your kind response! Unfortunately, I can’t come off of anon because that user I mentioned has a habit to sticking like glue to anyone who calls her out. If she were to learn my username, she would begin a harassment campaign against me; she’s done the same thing to me before, as well as to other bloggers who are my friends. Most of my followers know bullshit when they see it, but I still did lose a few of them because of her lies.

But yeah…tragicfantasy-girl basically a caricature of an Alt Right Ultra Fascist Fanbrat. She deliberately starts fights in the Obi-Wan Kenobi and Jedi tags, because she hates those characters so much that she cannot separate fact from fiction. She tears down female characters and characters of color for committing the same crimes Anakin Skywalker did, because she projects her own personality on him and takes any slight against him personally. And even though she is almost universally blocked in the Star Wars tag, she still tries to @ people on tumblr and “gift” them unsolicited essays on Ao3 because she is just that thirsty for a fight. You would be very wise to stay well away from her, and most of her (thankfully few) followers.

You sent a kind ask and I responded in the same way! Like everyone should do tbh but they never do on this site.... lol anyways!

(I just wanna say you can always feel free to come off anon, I won't expose you, you can even dm me like I love star wars and have opinions too lol)

But yeah okay wow. I obviously don't know that person but from what you describe it doesn't sound like a nice fandom behaviour. I'm not active in that fandom/community, like I love the movies (for the most part) and I have my strong opinions (like every star wars fan lmao) but that's a whole side of it I never knew existed.

I'm sorry you lost followers because of such shit behaviour and I hope they weren't close friends cuz that would suck. It's giving high school drama in the worst way.

Also can I just say Alt Right Ultra Fascist Fanbrat is my fave term right now? Is it an internet thing or your thing cuz daaaamn that's fantastic lol

Wow. That was crazy. I feel like a full on Vox journalist diving deep into shit I've never heard of lmao so thanks for sharing. I needed that distraction lol

[nyansense-the-nyanbinary]

A big collection of art I’ve done for my BNHA star wars AU! I wrote up a lot of this stuff and drew it ages ago, but never got around to posting it

Figured I might as well seeing as I keep forgetting lol, also I’m going to make another post because apparently tumblr has a images-per-post limit lol rip

In order!

Grey Jedi Sentinel Master Aizawa! He adopts most of the “ducklings”, ie the kiddos, at his hideout after the Kamino disaster where Emperor All for One kills Grandmaster All Might (see this post) and becomes the Emperor. He’s been only tangentially part of the Jedi order for ages, and the hideout is an ancient former Sith temple, which is where he got the crystal forge he used to make his second lightsaber (and why it’s red.) He’s also not-married to Present Mic, who’s a former member of a non-Jedi force using order who left to be by Aizawa’s side after serious rifts in the order in question. Jirou is also a learner under Mic, and came with him--the other order’s equivalent of a Padawan (she’s not pictured here, I haven’t drawn all the ducklings). Their order uses guns and Force control to create sonic attacks and shields by manipulating the air itself.

Emperor All for One has the ability to consume and steal the Force power and connection of Force-users he kills, and also claims their lightsabers for his own. His collection is so mighty and extensive that he can shatter the Force to his will almost unstoppably...but the wounds he suffered from Grandmaster All Might’s last stand prevent him from doing much fighting with his physical body--he instead relies on force-throwing his lightsaber collection around, which is generally just as terrifyingly effective.

Harmonizer Hawks is Tokoyami’s teacher, and comes from another non-Jedi force using order who believe in the total separation of their light and dark force halves, using them entirely separately and in parallel. Harmonizer is the Master-equivalent title, and Tokoyami is a Learner, who still doesn’t fully control his dark and light sides. They traditionally use double-lightsabers, as they are technically an ancient offshoot of the Jedi order.

Knight Bakugou lost his master, Master Jeanist, in the Kamino disaster, and flourished under the much more Grey teachings of Master Aizawa. He uses Force pushes to great effect, and has an almost reversed dynamic with Deku--Grandmaster All Might chose Deku, and Bakugou has spent his training struggling upstream against the well-meaning but ultimately unfitting teachings of Master Jeanist.

Deku has inherited One for All, the spirits of every Jedi Grandmaster of ages past, and can bend the Force to earthshaking effect...when he succeeds at mastering the power. But All Might couldn’t finish teaching him before he had to sacrifice himself, and Aizawa doesn’t know how One for All works...so it’s up to him to figure it out and give people the hope he wants to grant.

Already covered Tokoyami earlier lol

Koda was a padawan under Master Wash, who died protecting him from Sith Inquisitors before Aizawa and co managed to rescue Koda himself. His master visits him as a ghost, one with the Force, but Koda still carries a great deal of guilt inside his heart.

Kirishima was a padawan under Master Crust before the Kamino disaster claimed his Master’s life and forced him to take refuge with the rest of the ducklings with Aizawa. His species has extraordinarily tough skin (technically he’s a different phenotype of Koda’s species! related, but distinct)

Padawan Uraraka is very skilled at Ataru style combat and is acrobatic as hell, and one of the best fighters of the Ducklings. She’s also a close friend to Deku

Snipe is a Mandalorian, and Pony is his foundling! He realizes after serious events that Pony is force-sensitive, and after killing multiple inquisitors because they sensed Pony’s force power, he realizes she needs a teacher who can teach her things that he can’t. So eventually both of them end up joining the duckling crew--Snipe is in fact the one who coins the nickname ducklings, referring to all the kids as Aizawa’s little ducklings following after him. Get one more responsible adult!

There are a number more characters, but I either haven’t drawn them or am going to elaborate in another post due to the image limit lol

[figonas]

As Warm As The Sun-Part 1

“When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well”

Summary: Takes place during The Wicked King pretty much right before the Queen of Mirth scene and Chapter 15. This is just a soft, fluffy response to the prompt “hug me I command it”.

Words: 1623

Rating: GA

Links: Part 2-Jude POV | AO3

A/N: Tumblr user @jurdanhell brought this prompt up to me and our initial discussion that it didn’t really fit Cardan morphed into “wait yes this is exactly Cardan behavior”. This is my first work on AO3 so kudos would be greatly appreciated, if it gets enough love I might re-write the scene from Jude’s perspective!

********

Revels all tended to blend together, an endless stream of music and alcohol that somehow left Cardan feeling as desperately alone as always even when in a room bursting with folk of all shapes and sizes. This particular revel was different, if only because Jude was still hovering around him long after she would have normally retreated to her chambers or the Court of Shadows. He could feel her eyes on him, as heavy as the weight of his crown as she stared daggers at him from her position to the side of his throne.

Ordering Jude to do anything would be ordering a knife thrust into his own back, High King or no. So Cardan merely asked Jude to attend the revel in its entirety, but he did so in front of the Living Council, several members of the Low Courts, and Locke who rose to challenge and prod Jude without needing to be asked. There was no way for her to refuse that wouldn’t be seen as backing down from his challenge, so through gritted teeth, Jude graciously accepted his invitation. He didn’t know why he had asked her, perhaps he simply wanted to annoy her in a way that would require little effort from him, or perhaps he wanted to know how she would retaliate. A small part of him whispered that he just wanted her company but he made sure to drown that part of him with plenty of wine earlier in the night. Too much wine though Cardan is loath to admit it, and now as the night winds down he’s not entirely sure he can make it back to his rooms on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his guards has dragged their High King to bed and dropped him on his royal ass but Cardan dislikes the idea all the same. Moving to stand he lurches too far forward and nearly falls off the raised dais before Jude’s hand closes on the back of his cloak pulling him backward where he crashes into her solid presence. “As much as it would amuse me to watch you fall after you made me stand here all night for no reason, I’m too tired to pick you up off the floor,” Jude hisses in his ear, she throws one of his arms across her shoulders as her other arm snakes around his waist. “Dearest Jude, are you trying to take me to bed?” Cardan tries his best to wiggle his eyebrows at her but he’s too focused on his feet as they descend the dais steps and begin the long trek to his rooms. “Don’t push your luck or I’ll leave you to sleep on the floor in the middle of the burgh”. He laughs despite her threat and out of the corner of his eye he sees a small smile on Jude’s lips.

Cardan’s inebriated mind is not as trained at quashing his feelings for Jude as his sober mind is. As they make their way through the palace halls he has the sudden, sickening thought that he likes this, being embraced by Jude Duarte even if it’s only to help him to his rooms. She seems to have forgotten she’s repulsed by him, letting him lean on her as much as he needs. Cardan decides that he would get mindlessly drunk every night if it meant Jude would hold him this way but, perhaps mercifully, they make it to his rooms before he can voice this out loud. The moment she releases him he misses her warmth, her feeling of life and strength, of mortality. Before he knows what he’s saying he opens his mouth to speak. “Embrace me again,” he says, drunk and foolish, he can see the shock on her face despite her desperate attempt to hide it, but even Jude master of power and control, cannot stop the flush rising across her cheeks. Is it desire? Anger? Embarrassment? Cardan doesn’t care, he likes this Jude best; off her guard, almost susceptible to his charms but not quite, she is Jude Duarte after all. She recovers quickly, her expression cooling into something like boredom. “Go to bed Cardan” she points at the monstrously empty bed and he imagines it will be just as cold and lonely as he feels now. “But I am your king, Jude I command it,” he says with what he hopes is a playful smile, but is more than likely a fool’s grin. “So I say again, embrace me and then I will concede and go to bed”. Jude opens her mouth to speak but quickly shuts it with an audible snap of teeth.

She’s at war with herself he realizes suddenly, he can nearly see the thoughts racing in her head. He expects her to push back and fight with him, or to leave him where he stands not caring if he makes it to bed or collapses on the floor right here. Impossibly she does neither, instead, she reaches for him and wraps her arms around his midsection, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Cardan is frozen for what feels like an eternity but is only a handful of seconds as her warmth seeps into his very bones. He wraps his arms around her, returning the embrace before she changes her mind. “I’m only doing this because I’m too tired to fight with you about going to bed,” Jude mumbles softly, Cardan barely hears her above his pounding heart, but he can feel her words from where she’s pressed against his chest. He wants to tighten his grip on her to ensure himself this is real. He wants to bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the scent that haunts his dreams; her scent, so uniquely human, so wholly Jude. Through sheer force of will, he stops himself from indulging in either of these fantasies that would most likely only shatter this tender moment or result in him getting stabbed, he is equally disappointed at the thought of either possibility.

Jude seems to forget, if only for a moment, that it’s Cardan’s arms around her, his shoulder her cheek rests on, his neck that she tickles with her soft exhales. She relaxes just a little in a way he didn’t know she could, her palms flattening against his back, the ever-present tension leached slightly from her shoulders. He indulges in the impulse of stroking her lower back with his thumbs, he’s emboldened to tighten his grip on her just a fraction when Jude doesn’t react to the small movement. They stand in silence for several moments, Cardan’s heart racing at a worrying speed. Suddenly, Jude inhales deeply which turns into a wide yawn and she steps back rubbing the heel of her hand across one eye. “Alright, Your Majesty I indulged your wishes,” she’s interrupted by another, smaller yawn which she covers with the back of her hand. Cardan’s hands are still resting lightly on Jude’s waist, she doesn’t move from his touch. “Now to bed with you so I can get in my own. One of us has to be alert enough to run the kingdom,” she points in the direction of his bed and Cardan drops his hands. He is again shocked by how cold his room feels without her pressed against him. He quashes the urge to touch her again, he knows she will not indulge him a second time. When he turns he sways slightly, Jude rolls her eyes and places her hand on the small of his back guiding him to bed. “Careful with your orders Jude or I will tell everyone that you were kind to me,” he laughs to himself though it is not at all funny. “Though I don’t think anyone would believe me”. “You won’t remember this tomorrow anyway,” they reach the bedside where she gives him a gentle shove and he drops unceremoniously onto his too-large bed. The motion sets his head swimming. He steals one last, longing look at Jude before closing his eyes; her cheeks flushed, eyes tired, impenetrable walls lowered the tiniest bit. Cardan tucks the image away to think of when she’s gone and he’s left alone in the sea of cold blankets. “Oh Jude, loveliest of afflictions, I will remember this night for years to come,” he hears her scoff as she steps away from the bed. “We’ll see about that tomorrow,” she sounds amused as she speaks and if Cardan’s head wasn’t spinning so badly he would peel his eyes open just to see one of Jude’s rare smiles. He hears her footsteps retreating toward the door where she stops, he’s nearly overtaken with sleep when he hears her voice call softly back to him. “Goodnight Cardan”. She’s gone before he can respond and Cardan succumbs to sleep only moments later.

She’s there in his dreams as she is most nights. Cardan tries to speak to dream Jude, but the only word he can say is her name; Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude. Over and over again, he calls her name like a curse, a prayer, the last desperate words of a dying man, a humble supplicant whispering the name of an honored deity. When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well, but as he shifts under the sheets her scent wafts from the fabric of his shirt into his nostrils. He clutches the fabric tightly, inhaling deeply he smiles to himself before drifting off again to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

PSA: Tracking down stolen work:

As you all probably are aware, people have found their work has been stolen by user @palomazuniga on Wattpad in a book titled “Fred and George Weasley (Imagines and one shots)” Several writers, including @harrysweasleys and more have had their work taken and reuploaded without consent or awareness that this was happening. I’m really happy that the writers involved are reaching out to the person doing this in order to, hopefully, get credit - or even better - get the work taken down, but I wanted to find the other writers and give credit where it’s due. I’ll also be commenting these on the stolen work on wattpad obviously but I figured I’d make a post here with links and credit to the original authors of the work. If there are any I cannot find, I expect you all to asume that it most certainly does NOT belong to Palomazuniga. 

So far I’ve found (and I’m doing this in the order they’re posted in the stolen work): 

Detention Blues - by MadameInserts on Deviantart  

Mistletoe in spring by @weasleyimaginewheezes 

Rain check? by @potter-imagines 

PDA by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms 

Stay here by @weasley-imagines 

Moon and back by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms​

Jumper wars by @d31m1

Troubled thoughts by @lupinlongbottom

My promise by @weasley-imagines 

Cuddling with George would include - by @writings-of-a-british-fangirl

Here by @potterlyimagines

Wake up, love by @imagine-x-everything

Cuddling by @fredisababe 

Thunderstorm by @weasley-imagines

Comfort by PrincessPrankster on Deviantart 

Not too bad by @potter-imagines 

Forgiveness by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms

Sappy dates by @potter-imagines

Sweater Weather by @roonilwazlibimagines

I need you to kiss it better by @roonilwazlibimagines

Christmas fun by @weasley-imagines 

Eiffel tower by @potter-imagines

Jealous boyfriend by @potter-imagines

The proposal (engaged on wattpad) - @geminio-weasley-imagines

You lied to me by @hpimaginethat

Red thread by @peachyypotterarchive 

Late night cuddling by @potter-imagines

Endlessly by Miss-Union-Jack on Deviantart 

Christmas lights and sweet memories - unknown 

The proposal by @eleven-times-lively 

Picnic on the pitch by @eleven-times-lively

Moving in by @eleven-times-lively

In sickness, in health by @weasleyimaginewheezes

Perfect by @megslangley02

The proposal by AnnaeJD on Ao3 

Tickle fights by @megslangley02 

Christmas morning by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics

Home - unknown 

Ring by @saunteredvaguelydownward 

Never leave your side by @potter-imagines

I’m sorry by @potter-imagines

Stay here all day by @imagining-potter

Safe and sound by @weasleyimaginewheezes

Bedridden boyfriend by @fredisababe

Never alone by @weasleyimaginewheezes 

detention with the toad by @always-oneshots

View by unknown 

snow day by @thoseofgreatambition

sleight of hand by @lupinlongbottom

It’s my fault by @weasley-imagines

engagement judgement by @imaginethatalena

There’s that smile by @accio-imagines

Naptime by @thoseofgreatambition

Christmas magic by @accio-imagines

Hope by unkown 

Scaring you by @fallern618

Eye on the prize by @lupinlongbottom 

My felix felicis by @randomfandomimagine

If you die, I’m going to kill you by @hpimaginethat

together by unknown 

night to remember by @potter-imagines

Not without you by unknown 

Christmas with the Weasleys by @immortal-imagines 

Torture by @imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul

The right time by @mrsssiriusblack

Please don’t hurt her by @fredisababe 

Gifts by @acromantulla

I’ll protect you by @randomfandomimagine 

Before I leave by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics

The daughter of Sirius Black by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics 

Fire by @accio-imagines 

I love you too much by @imaginesfromthewizardingworld

Secret relationship by @weasley-imagines

The burrow by @imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul

The war by unknown 

Fred being an absolute pain by @freddieweasleywashere 

You want to marry me? by @weasley-kings 

Rescued by @rillyroo 

Fred being a third wheel by @thoseofgreatambition 

Beater’s worst nightmare by @the-weasleys-girl

almost (insults on wattpad) by @pufflyhallows

Foul play by @weasley-kings 

And to the stars we go by @harrysweasleys (Since Alexa is well aware of the situation I won’t spam her with tags but note that several of her works were stolen) 

Maybe some day (parts 1+2) by @weasleyimaginewheezes

Stars by @imobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms 

Well. This is certainly not how I imagined spending my morning, but here we are. I know this is a long post. Some of the authors who have been tagged here may even already know that their work has been taken. My hopes in making this post are that the authors mentioned here will take action on their own with the knowledge that the writing community here will back them up every step of the way. I hope that this person (whom I assume is either a child or a very childish person) takes the work down or at the least comes clean about stealing the stories. It breaks my heart to know that this “book” has been raking in readers, comments etc with this person taking credit meanwhile the actual writers who put in the hours of writing, editing and publishing have no idea. I’m hoping this also serves as a sort of fic rec list where you can all go and read/re-read these stories and give the original authors some love. God knows they deserve it!

 I’ll be making a tiktok and tagging some people who make weasley related content in order to maybe spread some more awareness there since the majority of people on weasley tiktok seem to prefer wattpad over tumblr (only god knows why but that’s their fish to fry) 

[crab-instruments]

Dust in the Wind Part 8 (tbb)

Master <Part 7 Part 9>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: General audience, panic/stress (minimal)

Words: 1.5k

a/n: haha well we don't have time to unpack all that finale, so here's an update of this instead. Fresh off the press and yeeted to tumblr. I'm thinking the next update will have some cool stuff. I hope.

Image credit in the notes

When your eyes opened, you laid there for a bit, taking in the events of yesterday and what some sleep had done to clear the mind. You must have slept well, not even remembering the dreams you had or stirring when others got up, as only Hunter and you were left in the bunks. This was based on assumption by reaching out using the Force, at least, as you hadn’t moved an inch yet.

Being with the Batch had made it easy to settle back into your ‘old life’ or maybe just who you really were, a force user. You were becoming more comfortable, but if you were being honest with yourself, that was a scary thought. It would make leaving so much harder.

You slowly started to move, careful to keep quiet, putting your feet on the cold metal floor. The ship buzzed and hummed through your feet, accentuating the dull pain in your muscles, but the pain had an odd nostalgic feel, something you would be used to after a mission.

Echo, Crosshair, and Wrecker were all out in the main cabin as you approached, all still sleepy, though the sniper was better at hiding it.

Echo handed you a cup and you presumed he said something along the lines of ‘mornin’ but your brain was still fuzzy, not used to the amount of sleep you got. You looked at the contents of the cup; caf that had a stale smell to it and enough water to have your reflection look back at you. Still, you drank it all in one go and then turned to back to the Clone who gave it to you. “Thank you, that was the worst caf I’ve ever had, and I’ve never been more grateful for it.”

Echo chuckled; a small smirk spread across his face. “I see you slept well. Surprised to see Sarg still in bed.” You cocked your head, not sure what he was getting at.

“He is usually up first, not able to sleep when people start waking up,” Wrecker filled in.

“It might have something to do with having more people sleeping comfortably,” Tech had walked from the cockpit. “He has said that when there’s more resting heartbeats around him, he is calmer. He was worried about Maxis so possibly having them closer helped him relax.” Tech had kept his voice even when speaking, but it still felt like there was a hint of something.

“What are you—”

“I came back here to let you know we will be landing soon, and someone should wake Hunter.” He turned around before you could address what you wanted.

Echo had grabbed another cup of caf and handed it out for you to take. “Maxis, would you mind? I have a few other things to do and you’re closer.” You squinted your eyes in skepticism at the Clone for a moment, before taking the cup and walking back to the bunks, making a mental note to corner those two and figure out what they were scheming.

Once you crossed the threshold of the room, you slowed down in front of where Hunter was laying. He had fallen asleep on his stomach, his arms under his pillow, and his face turned away from the wall. No bandana in his hair, you could see how thick his locks are, almost a little envious. Really, it suited him, and he knew it. You lowered yourself to the floor, taking a moment to just study his sleeping face. So calm and handsome, in this state you couldn’t see how much the war had taken its toll on him. It was something you could get used to—

“Mesh’la, staring is impolite.” You would never… ever… admit what his sleepy morning voice did to you in that moment. His voice startled you, sloshing some caf onto the floor. He hadn’t yet opened his eyes when he addressed you, but they stared straight through you now.

Say something! “Um… sorry, I didn’t mean… We just… We’re going to be landing soon.” Smooth, about as smooth as this caf.

Hunter chuckled, amused at the effect he had on you in that moment. Slowly he sat up, swinging his legs carefully over the side of the bunk. You had stood up and took a step back to give him space but were still more or less frozen.

“Is… one of those cups for me? Or do you just really enjoy the dirt caf…”

“Oh, right.” You held out the cup, certainly not loving every second he touched your hand. Holy kriff, you needed to get a grip on your life, or you were going to lose your mind. “Uhm, I’ll just…” you looked back to the doorway but then back at him. “Wait, mesh’la?”

A look of surprise took over Hunter’s face for a hot second before a smile took its place. He shook his head, and responded, “It’s Mando’a, I’ll have to teach you some day.” He stood up and walked past you to the main cabin, obviously still avoiding giving a real answer.

“But that doesn’t… what does it mean?” Hunter had already weaved his way through the ship, leaving you wondering. Maybe I’ll ask Tech about the best way to learn a new language.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Under the ship, you checked and cleaned the landing gear. It had seen better days and probably hadn’t even been washed since the Republic. You worked meticulously, finally able to show more of what you could do now that you didn’t have the possibility of needing a quick escape. The soreness that swam through your muscles sang loudly while you focused, it was clear you needed a break.

Two shadows, one much larger than the other, closed in on the area. Omega didn’t need to crouch all that much as she approached, Wrecker waiting by the side of the ship. “Hey Maxis, you should take a break. Wrecker and I were about to go get our Mantell Mix. It’s a tradition, we get some after every mission.”

You stopped working for a moment. “I didn’t really… I wasn’t a part of the mission. But—”

“You protected the ship from four troopers, I’d say that’s enough to get some Mix.” Wrecker said, with a bit of pride.

“Ah yeah, I guess. Let me put this piece back on and we can go.”

Crawling out from the ship, you wiped the dirt of your pants. Something about Ord Mantell always stuck to you though, but that was a part of its charm. Or that’s what you say to convince yourself. You had explored the market a bit, to pick up supplies and replacements for maintenance, but never really experienced it.

As Omega led the way, you asked, “what exactly is Mantell Mix?”

“Only the best treat in the entire galaxy,” Omega looked back at you, very excited.

“Well, when you mostly have rations, anything would be a treat. Very low bar. I think I’m more concerned about the name, Mantell Mix. A mix of what? Grime and overpriced goods?”

“I think adventure and a hint of sweetness is more like it.”

You chuckled. “Always good at the positive spin, Omega. That’s a good quality.” She beamed.

Once the food was acquired, you could only eat so much of it before deciding that Omega had lied about the ‘hint of sweetness’. But you did your best to show gratitude in being included.

The three of you decided to wander around the open-air shops. You ended up looking at some unrefined gems on display. Not something you would usually stop to look at, but something about the display caught your attention. A crystal, somewhat clear but had a red hue, stuck out.

“See something you like?”

“What… is this?” You pointed to the crystal. “And where did you get it?”

“Ahh, I’m not sure. I travel and trade quite a bit, unfortunately, and don’t remember much about every piece. But if it is to your liking, you should have a closer look.” The owner had a creepy facial expression, you were unsure if they were trying to just sell the item or if they had other motives. But what other motives could they have?

You reached for the crystal but could only hold it for a second due to the extreme pain and pressure you felt from it. Another force echo. Luckily, you pushed yourself out of it quick, only getting a brief glimpse of the horrible feeling, but it stuck to you, sitting heavy on your shoulders. A reminder of the past.

It was a kyber crystal, a synthetic one specifically. This one had been used by a Sith or an apprentice of one, having such a dark and evil aura around the force echo. It made you sick and scared. Suddenly, it felt like all eyes were on you, walls closing in. Fear crept into your mind.

“I’m s-sorry, I have to-… to go.” You swiftly made your way back to the Marauder, leaving Omega and Wrecker behind. The corner you hid in after your fight with the troopers felt like the perfect fit for you at that moment. You curled up in a ball as tightly as you could and hummed to yourself.

It took a while, but everyone made their way back and Hunter was discussing about their next mission that would take place in a few rotations.

Part 9

________________________________________________________________

Notes:

Mando'a: I assume if you're reading this, you know, but here's a link anyway.

Synthetic Lightsaber/Kyber crystal: One of my favorite things I learned about lightsabers is that the Sith used synthetic crystals and synthetic crystals are normally red, leading to the Sith having mostly red lightsabers. I don't know if that's still considered canon anymore, but for me it is. Image credit

Tag List: @rintheemolion @xxspqcebunsxx @salamidraws @lokigirlszendaya

If you want to be added to the tag list, just ask in the most convenient way for you or by faxing me a picture of a crab

[lorata]

Hi! I’m currently isolated with COVID :/// and I just wanted to let you know I’m using my quarantine to just read through all your material for maybe the fifth time? I’m currently in such a Tumblr rabbit hole right now. Someone may have already asked this, but have you posted even bits and pieces of your Hunger Games-child soldiers AU yet? The idea sounds fascinating and if you have any you’re willing to share I’d love to see it :) Thanks!!

I HAVE NOT POSTED IT there is no coherent version of it anywhere I don't think, @xanify started writing her side for NaNoWriMo and got a little way in, and I have some scenes here and there, and then (hilariously) we made ourselves sad when we killed Electra so we started an offshoot universe where literally nothing is different except they make it out (too injured to fight anymore but at least not dead)

(actually... I think that was technically the very first Injured Creed AU, since in that offshoot he gets taken out in a fight but doesn't die and has massive survivor's guilt about it)

mostly the bits that I have are like .......... sad things where people have died IIRC, and other random scenes. I want to write the whole thing but it's a bit complicated to write my head around like ... an novel? I love that one for the mentor feelings and trauma-bonding but it's one of those universes where it's kind of like ... what's the war about? who's fighting? that's literally not important to the story the point is there are children fighting, and I have absolutely ZERO interest in fleshing out the world outside the compound. give me an old-school sci fi TV show with an opening title card that says "in a secret facility where children are used as weapons in for war" or something, DONE, and everyone understands this is the 60s and we don't need any greater context. the war is a vehicle for FEELINGS, pedantic twitter user #875, the supply chain is irrelevant

[youneedasoultraveller]

Is the popular headcanon that Nicky was illiterate, stupid and barbaric fitting in the stereotypes about Southern Europeans / Mediterraneans ? I’m guessing it’s from the American part of the fandom that’s choosing to not respectfully write Nicky since he is white while being virulent towards anybody that doesn’t perfected and accurately write Joe because he is MENA.

Hello!

Mind you, I am neither a psychologist, a sociologist nor a historian, so of course be aware these are my own views on the whole drama.

But to answer your question, yes, I personally think so. It definitely comes from the American side, but I have seen Northern Europeans do that too, often just parroting the same type of discourse that Anglos whip out every other day.

There is an abysmal ignorance of Medieval history – even more so when it concerns countries that are not England: there is this common misconception that Europe in the Middle Ages was this cultural backwater full of semi-barbaric people that stems unfortunately not only from trying to (correctly) reframe colonialist approaches to the historiographies of non-European populations (that is, showing the Golden Age of Islamic culture, for instance, as opposed to what were indeed less culturally advanced neighbours), but also from distortions operated by European themselves from the Renaissance onwards, culminating in the 18th century Enlightenment philosophes categorising the Middle Ages as the Dark Ages.

Now this approach has been time and time again proven to be a made-up myth. I will not go into detail to disprove each and every single one misconception about the Medieval era because entire books have been written, but just to give you an example: there was no such a thing as a ius primae noctis/droit du seigneur; people were aware that the Earth was not flat (emperors, kings, saints, etc, they were depicted holding a globe in their hands); people were taking care of their hygiene, either through the Roman baths, or natural springs, or private tubs that the wealthier strata of the population (and especially the aristocracy) owned. The Church was not super happy about them not because it wanted people to remain dirty, but because often these baths were for both men and women, and it was not that in favour of them showing off their bodies to one another. Which, you know, we also don’t do now unless you go to nudist spas. It was only during the Black Death in the 14th century that baths were slowly abandoned because they became a place of contagion, and they went into disuse (or better, they changed purpose and became something like bordellos). And, lastly, there was certainly a big chunk of the population that was illiterate, but certainly it was not the clergy, which was THE erudite class of the time. It was in monasteries and abbeys that knowledge was passed and preserved (as well as lost unfortunately often, such as the case for the largest part of classical literature).

So what does this mean? According to canon, Nicolò was an ex priest who fought in the First Crusade. This arguably means that at the very least he was a cadet son of a minor noble family (or a wealthy merchant one) who was part of the clergy. As such, historically he could have been neither illiterate nor a dirty garbage cat in his daily life.

Let’s then talk geography. Southern Europe (and France) was far, far more advanced than the North at the time and Italy remained the cultural powerhouse of the continent until the mid-17th century. Al Andalus in the Iberian Peninsula, the Italian States,  the Byzantine Empire (which called itself simply Roman Empire, whose population defined itself as Roman and cultural heirs of the Latin and Greek civilisations): these places have nothing to do with popular depictions of Medieval Europe that you mainly see from the Anglos. Like @lucyclairedelune rightfully pointed out: not everyone was England during the plague.

Also the Middle Ages lasted one thousand years. As a historical age, it’s way longer than anything we had after that. So of course habits varied, there was a clear collapse right after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, but then things develop, you know?

Anyway, back to the point in question. Everything I whipped up is not arcane knowledge: it’s simply having studied history at school and spending a few hours reading scientific articles on the internet which are not “random post written by random Anglo on Tumblr who can hardly find Genoa on a map”.

Nicolò stems from that culture. The most advanced area in Europe, possibly a high social class, certainly educated, from Genoa, THE maritime superpower of the age (with…Venice). It makes absolutely no sense that he would not be able to speak anything past Ligurian: certainly Latin (the ecclesiastical one), maybe the koine Greek spoken in Constantinople, or Sabir, or even the several Arabic languages from the Med basin stretching from al Andalus to the Levant. Because Genoa was a port, and people travel, bring languages with them, use languages to barter.

And now I am back to your question. Does this obstinacy in writing him as an illiterate beast (basically) feed into stereotypes of Mediterranean people (either from the northern or the southern shore)? It does.

It is a typically Anglo-Germanic perspective that of describing Southern (Catholic) Europeans are hot-headed, illiterate bumpinks mindlessly driven by blind anger, lusts and passions, as opposed to the rational, law-abiding smart Northern Protestants. You see it on media. I see it in my own personal life, as a Southern Italian living in Northern Europe for 10 years.

Does it sound familiar? Yes, it’s the same harmful stereotype of Yusuf as the Angry Brown Man. But done to Nicolò as the Angry Italian Man (not to mention the fact that, depending on the time of day and the daily agenda of the Anglo SJW Tumblrite, Italians can be considered either white or non-white).

Now, the times where Nicolò is shown as feral are basically when he is fighting (either in a bloody war or against Merrick’s men) or when Yusuf is in danger. Because, guess what, the man he loves is being hurt. What a fucking surprise.

Nicolò is simply being reduced to a one dimensional stereotype of the dirty dumb angry Italian, and people are simply doing this because they do not seem to accept the fact that both he and Yusuf are two wonderfully complex, flawed, fully-fledged multidimensional characters.

So I am mainly concentrating on Nicolò here because as an Italian I feel more entitled to speak about the way I see the Anglo fandom treating him and using stereotypes on him that have been consistently applied to us by the Protestant Northerners. I keep adding the religious aspect because, although I am an atheist who got debaptised from the Catholic Church, a big part of the historical treatment towards Southern has to do with religion and the contempt towards Catholic rituals and traditions (considered, once again, a sign of cultural backwardness by the enlightened North).

I do not want to impose my view of Yusuf because there are wonderful Tumblr users from MENA countries who have already written wonderful metas of the way Yusuf is being depicted by non-MENA people (in particular Americans), especially (again) @lucyclairedelune and @nizarnizarblr.

However, I just want to underline that, by only ever writing Yusuf as essentially a monodimensional character without a single flaw, this takes away Yusuf’s canon multidimensionality, the right he has to feel both positive but also negative feelings (he was hurt and angry at Booker’s betrayal, allegedly his best friend, AND HE HAD EVERY RIGHT TO BE – and I say this as a Booker fan as well).

I have not been the first to say these things, it is nothing revolutionary, and it exactly complements what the MENA tumblr users in the TOG fandom have also been trying to say. Both of us as own voices people who finally have the chance to have two characters that are fully formed and honest representations of our own cultures, without stereotypes or Anglogermanic distortions.

And the frustration mounting among all of us comes from the fact that the Anglos are, once again, not listening to us, even telling us we are wrong about our own cultures (see what has happened to Lucy and Nazir).

What is even more frustrating is that everything in this cursed fandom – unless it was in the film or comics – is just a bloody headcanon. But these people are imposing their HCs as if it were the Word of God, and attacking others – including own voices MENA and Italians – for daring to think otherwise.

I honestly don’t expect this post will make any difference because this is just a small reflection of what Americans do in real life on grander scale, which is thinking they are the centre of the world and ignoring that the rest of the world even exists regardless of their own opinions on it.

But still, sorry for the length, hope I answered your question.

[shadowstalker732]

ALRIGHT LETS GIVE THIS POSTING THING A GO

MY REVAN TIME (one of them at least)

Also spoiler warning a guess for a game over a decade old? (Am I meant to say spoiler warning? Who knows not me)

(Please don’t yell at me about stats I do what I want)

Anyway first playthrough where I don’t stop and hard restart Tarris or Dantooine 13 times because choice reasons and me forgetting that stealth is useless and just letting the game auto level for me (learnt that the hard way), I’ve basically done Tatooine but I haven’t beaten the dragon yet cos I wanted to bugger off to another planet first and chose Kashyyyk. And I’m down in the shadow lands now (do not worry Zaalbar I WILL GET YOU BACK) and yeah that’s where I’m at.

ANYWAY, Shay or Shar Stalker (because the game won’t let me do non-binary) is a light side Revan. Good of heart dumb of ass and yet will still rob you dry if you place bets on a strategy game against them. Height wise around the 1.6m mark (5′3″ for the Americans). Prefers the double lightsaber look (currently got a short green one and a normal blue one for amnesia version). Not a flirt but definitely had something going on with my Exile in the past but that ended in the Mando war at some point… teenagers in war don’t usually do well mentally wise.. back story and post events of Kotor under the cut (also warning it’s long, like super long, and goes into their future story? As well)

SO BACKSTORY,

Shar got some Mando blood floating in their veins from some ancestor and that causes them to go full buir sometimes hence why Mission, Zaalbar, HK-47, T3-M4 and Juhani get bed time stores aboard the Ebon Hawk and chocolate space milk whenever they stop (Rev gets some too because who doesn’t love some good old Choccy milk), droid duo get cleaned basically daily while Bastila gets the bird for even thinking that this is a waste of time and resources.

Wait I said backstory… TEMPLE LIFE!

Rascal trio with Exile and Alek at their heels. All three, good of heart dumb of ass. Shar was a prodigy and excelled in basically all Jedi subjects at the time, was pretty popular with most people and just a nice person who didn’t stand for bullshit. Got into a few “heated” (honestly that’s an understatement) arguments with council members about how some things in the galaxy were handled but mostly had a positive response from people. At this time their main saber was purple and their off hand a short cyan. Joined the Republic in the Mandalorian wars a few months before their 17′th birthday. Didn’t not return to the Temple once after leaving for war.

The War 

(I should mention I get most of my knowledge from wiki skims (not deep reads) and other Tumblr posts so if it’s off canon… it’s my story and Star Wars is my sand box so I MAKE THE RULES HERE BABY!)

After many battles and the relationship between the battle trio growing stronger with time it was also weakening. At one point Shar and Exile had a romantic relationship going but only kept that going for a few months, they both decided that this was not the time to be doing this and if they both survived would actually give the lovers thing a shot (doesn’t happen). Throughout the war all three realise that they must make sacrifices to stop the war, the old saying “sacrifice one to save the many” is said often between the three at first before it becomes second nature. During one of the battles Shar’s cyan lightsaber is completely destroyed including the crystal being completely shattered. After taking the mantle of the Revanchist only uses the name Revan and never removes the helmet unless it’s only the trio and only then will respond to their old names. All three are slipping mentally in this war but have all managed to hold onto the Light side by trusting each other. After the mass shadow generator event Revan looses all contact with Exile (force and otherwise) and assumes death, despite it being Revan’s own order it’s a major pushing point towards the dark.

The End of the War

Revan faces off against Mandalore the Ultimate and slays him, in his dying breathe speaks of the Sith Empire growing in the Unknown Regions and how this war wasn’t only about giving the Mandalorian’s a good fight but also to weaken the republic for Ultimates Empire allies. Not many Mandalorians knew of the Sith truth behind the war and just followed their Mandalor’s word that this war would bring them the honour of a good fight, and it did in a way. After Revan learns of the empire growing hidden amongst uncharted routes, knew that the council would never believe them and so took matters into their own hands. Taking a fleet and insisting it was to chase down the last of the Mandalorian high command, Revan left for the unknown regions.

The Unknown 

Yeah everything went to shit. Rev and Alek get captured and Sith tortured and kind probed by old man Sith Emperor but in that time Revan gains acute knowledge via reverse mind prob, of how the Sith empire is running, where resources are coming from and key weak points. During this time Alek falls completely and Revan fains it for now. Torture continues for a good while until Revan makes the choice that they have been making all through out the war “sacrifice one to save the many”… Revan embraces the dark side and makes a plan, a plan to empower the known galaxy enough to destroy the “true” Sith empire by uniting it as their own Sith empire. Revan knows light will always rise to face the dark and that the light side is strong, someone will rise to take them down after the “true” Sith empire is defeated and only in death will Revan have fulfilled their promise to the unknown Mandalorian and finally be able to be one with the force. Revan embraces the dark fast and is soon sent off by the Sith emperor who thinks Revan is under his control to take control of the star forge and start building the Sith army in the known galaxy, Revan assumes command with now Malek as their right hand.

Beginning of Darth Revan

Basically what is described in the first Kotor game, Darth Duo go find star maps, get to forge, start fucking up the galaxy yadeyadeya. Malek pulls a sick move and fucks up Revan’s plan to stop the Sith Emperor and boom Amnesia time baby. Oh also during Sith times used a red and their old purple lightsaber but when they got captured by Bastila both lightsaber’s goy yoinked and locked up on Coruscant for simple reasons. 

No Memory Time Baby

Council is smart as fuck and call them Shay Stalker AKA their old name to see if that will reawaken light memories or thoughts in Revan and basically try and nudge amnesia Rev to stay lightside cos they don’t want to see their lost padawan fall back to the dark, (Jedi are a complicated subject), also ONLY SHAY no mention of their other name Shar at all! So that will cause problems later for poor Rev when they start remembering things :), basically the game from here on. Memories of a calm life on a farming planet before joining the military, lost both their siblings (AKA Alek and Exile) while away on service. Joined to stop the Sith from taking any more innocent lives. Throughout the game Shay try’s to help as many people as they can and choose the option that will benefit good and innocent people, constantly says fuck to corporations and nasty people, is not afraid to kill a bitch. As I haven’t completed the game fully (but I am planing a lightside finish and I’m not exactly sure when the “I am Revan” bit comes in I’m gonna leave this as it is. Oh and blue main saber and a short green saber with a crystal they managed to purify (AKA was red but returned to its natural colour through meditation and force cleansing, also helped by Bastila)

Memories

Like I said I haven’t finished the game yet BUT after the whole “oh fuck oh stars IM REVAN?????” Lots of shit starts to make sense and the force “spell” (I’m gonna call it spell) that repressed Revan’s memories had already begun to weaken somewhat before this point but this kinda opens the flood gates but not too far just enough for it to not make any sense at all. Team is there for Rev and the game finishes lightside. (Also I know I said this rev not gonna romance but this is post game stuff now and I just don’t wanna romance Bastila in game so yeah) ANYWAY, Revan and Bastila build a healthy relationship together and Revan starts to regain a lot of memories that their friends help them through. Revan remembers why they took the name Revan and actually goes to Coruscant to the high council to explain why they put on the helmet in the first place and the Council adheres to Revan’s request and returns the original helmet. The Star forged one stays in storage for now. Revan also requests their old armour and lightsabers to help regain memories as to why they fell, the council is hesitant at this request and only allows Revan to meditate with their old things at the main temple with a council member present. Over one or two years a lot comes back but there is still a few key dates, names, moments and details missing. Oh and Revan uses force powers to make Bastila preggers. IF BOBA FETT CAN SURVIVE A SARLAC AND PALPATINE CAN EXIST IN THE SEQUELS. REVAN CAN PULL FORCE BULLSHIT TOO!

The Unknown part 2: Electric boogaloo 

Revan finally remembers what made them go dark and realises they fucked up their own plans pretty bad and the Republic IS WORSE OFF THAN HOW IT STARTED COS OPPS REVAN ACCIDENTALLY KILLED A SHIT TON OF FORCE USERS LIGHT AND DARK SO yeah. Bastila was holding the brain cell of the force bond in this moment and Revan decides the best course of action is to go face the Emperor alone… fucking brilliant Revan how the fuck did you win the Mandalorian wars again my good sir? Revan tells Bastila that they (Rev) has been assigned a mission to infiltrate the remanence of Revan’s old Sith Empire and basically destroy it from within and that this mission is basically so hush hush that Bastila isn’t meant to know but Revan thought it only fair to say that they would be gone for potentially a long time for this mission and Bastila, unaware that this would be the last time she saw them, accepted this goodbye and hoped they would return before their baby was born. But Revan has always been a good lier… even to themselves. Without anymore fuss they left the Known Galaxy leaving all their friends and family behind never to be seen again to face off against the bitch that started it all. (I haven’t read the novels or played the SWTOR game and never plan to do either so again I say this is wiki knowledge that I’m doing what ever I please with that knowledge because Star Wars is a sand pit and I’m the kindy kid that’s decided to sit and play with it today)

Mmmmm Watcha SaaaaaaaAy

Revan gets their ass handed to them and imprisoned for three hundred years and tortured and mind probed AGAIN. Also cut off their connections to any other force user to ensure old dude couldn’t get to them as well. Absolutely not having a good time here. After the 300 years of PAIN the force within Revan gets so fucked up that their physicality splits into two entirely separate beings, Dark Revan and Light Revan. When this happens the prison breaks and Light Revan makes their escape and gets out barely alive while Dark Revan hangs back and swears allegiance to Sith Empire and starts plotting to overthrow old dude cos Sith. Light Revan makes it back to the council and they heal them and have a very hard time believing they are Revan until Revan perfectly describes a gift they gave Bastila before they left that now a descendent of Revan now owns. The council doesn’t understand how Revan split into two entire different beings but accept “the force acts in mysterious ways at times”. Revan is FINALLY given knighthood and helps prepare the republic for the Sith Empire that hasn’t attacked yet but definitely will soon. And this is where Tarre comes in.

Mando Time Yeah!

My Tarre will get his own beefy post (def not as big as this one) maybe tomorrow or the next day so for now it’s just what Tarre does and means to Revan. ANYWHO, Tarre becomes Light Revan’s padawan. (I should mention that Light Revan despite being called Light Revan is leaning towards a grey area within the force but isn’t down right evil like dark Revan is. Dark Revan is killing puppies of an endangered species cos their bored evil). Tarre is Revan’s padawan and becomes a knight. Revan enjoys teaching Tarre about the force and understanding how Tarre was brought up a Mandalorian and with the peace between Jedi and Mandalorian’s at this point was welcomed into the Jedi temple later than most. Revan raises Tarre like he is their own son/little brother and they form an extremely powerful force bond because of it. I’ll go in depth on Tarre’s post but Tarre still gets Mando training for 4 months of the year but the jedi training is the rest of the year. Revan joins Tarre when he return to Mandalore to continue his Mando training and learns more about Mandalorian history and culture while there. While on Mandanlore Light Revan truely feels relaxed for once despite random Mando’s sometimes jumping out and challenging them to fights because apparently Revan is now a ghost story and a feared mighty warrior legend and when anyone finds out that Revan is “alive” immediately tries to prove that they are stronger than Revan (which they are not). A few years after Tarre is knighted the war with the True Sith Empire begins.

I don’t know what to call this bit sooooo UWU

Battles, fights, old shit, it’s a war. Revan proves to be supper fucking useful in leadership but doesn’t do as much “sacrifice one to save the many” moves anymore. Revan keeps predicting what the Sith are gonna do an THATS cos Dark Revan is leading the, and Revan knows Revan best but not the reverse. Light Revan knows how Dark Revan will act but Dark Revan doesn’t know how Light Revan will act since Light Revan technically includes Shay/Shar, Mandalorian War Revan, Amnesiac Shay, and post Amnesia. While Dark Revan is only really Darth Revan and post Amnesia so Light Revan technically outweighs Dark Revan. I’ve probably butchered that explanation or done it too late but that’s how it’s gonna be cos it’s midnight and I wanna finish this and post it today. ANYWAY, final battle between the Revan’s. They have a massive duel on the battle field and eventually Light Revan strikes Dark Revan down but also receives some pretty nasty injuries. Light Revan understands the need to be whole again and as Dark Revan “dies” reunites with that half of the force and Revan returns but Revan is so done, so fucking done with living and trying and they had a good run and now they have what was Dark Revan’s and Light Revan’s injuries all on one body and sure if Rev really tried they could probably suck the life force out of some Sith warriors to keep themselves alive but… they just don’t want to. Eventually Tarre finds the fallen Revan reunited at last and stays by their side as Revan finally lets go and becomes one with the force. After the battle Tarre brings Revan’s body back to the Temple to be burnt as Revan had requested but their armour, lightsabers, and other possessions would be taken to a place only Tarre knew of to be sealed away until a far descendent of Revan’s comes along to claim them as their own. The war isn’t over and Revan’s passing only fuels Tarre further into defeating the Sith empire that the republic eventually does after 20 years of war. 

Conclusion 

And that’s the overall story of this Revan, I know very long, very deep, wtf this is your second post after a what? 1 year break? Actually let me check… yeah nope about a year has passed since my Crash post. If you have made it this far thanks for reading my first ever “decent” post about something I’ve been developing for a while now in bits and pieces. Sorry it was so long but then again I did miss a lot of shit. If you want to interact and ask more questions about this Revan go ahead my ask box is open (don’t be weird tho and just cos I post long doesn’t mean you have to ask long unless it’s legit). I’ll try and get the Tarre post out tomorrow around this time too or earlier depends. Thanks again for taking the time to read my word vomit. Also sorry if there are any spelling mistakes I have missed.

Have a good one!

[an-optimist-prime]

And as the world comes to an end

A kylux fic written for the Kiss Prompt going around. The prompt was #40 - “... because the world is ending”.

A huge thanks to Tails89 for beta reading.

Word count: 1350

Rating: T

Ao3 Link

*

They’ve lost.

Hux knows in his gut that this is the end. The New Republic, led by Organa, have pushed them back to their last star destroyer, and now the Resistance has breached it too. Even the scavenger girl and the traitorous FN-2187 were present, no doubt to confront Ren.

There’s no escape this time, not with the rebels literally breaking down their doors as they storm their last ship. With no other options, Hux keys in his command overrides and initiates the ship’s self-destruct sequence.

If he's going down, he's taking as many of the rebel scum with him as he can.

Now, there’s nothing to do but wait for the inevitable, which according to his chrono is less than five minutes away. With nothing else to do, Hux makes his way to the throne room. There at least he can spend his last moments where he always wanted to be, always deserved to be. Seated on a throne that should have been his.

The doors to the throne room slide open, and Hux strides in, only to find the Supreme Leader already there. He’s crumpled at the base of the dais, face down, and for a moment Hux thinks he might already be dead. But as he draws closer he can hear ragged breaths.

Ren is the absolute last person that Hux wishes to spend his final moment with. But when has the universe ever seemed to care for what he wants?

But, even Hux has to admit there’s a kind of cosmic irony to all of this. That, at the end of everything, it’s still the two of them. Perhaps, if they could have worked together, they would not be where they are now. On more than one occasion Hux had wondered what they could have been, had circumstances been different. Had the universe put them side by side, in a meaningful way, and not at each other’s throats.

But now is not the time to dwell on what-ifs. There’s barely time for anything.

Ren must still be lucid enough to notice his surroundings though, because he turns his head towards Hux as he approaches.

Hux pauses just in front of Ren, and their eyes find each other.

The Supreme Leader is in a bad way. His skin is ashen and sallow. There’s a gaping wound in his left side, just under his heart, that’s seeping onto the steps and pooling around him. His heavy and rough breaths indicate that there’s likely blood pooling in his lungs as well. Even if they could get him medical attention immediately, Hux doubts that it would save him.

Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, monster to the New Republic, once an unstoppable one-man war machine, has only minutes left to live.

But, so does Hux.

“Hux” Ren rasps out, like he can’t believe he’s here. He tries to push himself up, but it’s too much of a strain to do anything more than prop one of his arms underneath him. It would be almost pitiful, if not for the fact that he still stubbornly draws breath. It’s a fierce wound. A lesser man would already be dead.

He and Ren have always been similar in that regard - never staying down until they could physically no longer stand.

“Ren,” Hux says simply. Now is not the time for titles. He gestures to the wound in Ren’s side. “Did the girl do that?”

“She did,” Ren replies, and a flicker of rage crosses his features. It must be enraging, to be so thoroughly beaten, even worse than he was on Starkiller. “You set the self-destruct?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ren hisses out, as he finally manages to manoeuvre his dying body into a sitting position. After a moment, he adds, “My name is Kylo.”

“No last-minute reprieve for Ben Solo?” Hux taunts.

“No last-minute deal with the Resistance?” Ren - Kylo - seethes back, his fury evident. Hux doesn’t doubt that if Kylo could summon the force, he would have already used it against him. “Your life, spared for information?”

Hux clenches his fists. It stings, because of how true it could be. He’d considered it, first when Kylo had become the Supreme Leader, and again just months earlier, when the Order first began to crumble. But even he knows that no amount of information can wash away the stain of Starkiller.

They hold each other’s stare. It’s Kylo who breaks first, his body wracked by agonising coughs as he fights to take in oxygen.

It would be easy for Hux to just walk past him and take the throne. Kylo is in no condition to stop him, and Hux could just ignore him as he bleeds out on the floor.

His thoughts do not escape Kylo’s notice.

“Go on, take it,” Kylo challenges. “You’ve always wanted it.”

“I never wanted this.” Hux argues, feeling exhausted. He wanted power. He wanted the galaxy at his feet. He wanted Kylo, not against him but beside him. The thought of taking the throne suddenly seems hollow. They’ve lost, and nothing can change that now. He doesn’t deserve it. Neither of them do.

So, instead, he sits next to Kylo, careful to avoid the blood. If Kylo is surprised by his move, he says nothing.

They sit in silence, side by side. If not for his rough exhales, Hux would wonder if the force user had already expired. Hux checks his chrono again and tries to ignore how he’s started to shake. Less than two minutes remaining. He throws his chrono across the room and pointedly does not look at Kylo.

Beside him, Kylo sighs.

“Some Jedi,” Kylo begins, each word clearly a struggle to get out. “Believe that after death, a soul is just reborn into another body.”

“Is that right?” Hux says, humouring him. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Kylo is trying to comfort him.

Kylo nods in response, as he drags himself closer to Hux. “We’ll get it right next time. The New Republic will fall before us.”

“We? Us?” Hux says incredulously, because surely Kylo isn’t implying what he thinks he is. “Does the force truly hate me that much that it would curse me with you again?”

“You need me as I need you,” Kylo says, like it’s the simplest, clearest thing in the universe. It’s the truth, and Hux should hate it, but he doesn’t. “We’re destined. I see that now.”

Hux never thought he’d spend his last living moments talking afterlife philosophy with a failed Jedi, yet here he is. Somehow, it feels right .

“Destined how?”

Kylo closes the distance between them, his free hand reaching up and caressing the side of Hux’s face. Then, he leans in and kisses him.

It’s not what Hux imagined it would be like. He’d always thought that it would be a forceful or vicious thing, and he supposes that the taste of blood on his lips somewhat matches that. But instead, Kylo kisses with a surprising gentleness, like it's an act of worship. There’s a passion there as well, as if he’s pouring the last of everything he has into it.

Stars, he probably is. Kylo has never done anything by halves. It’s almost overwhelming, that at the end of everything, he chooses this, chooses him.

After a moment, Kylo breaks away. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“So have I,” Hux breathes, as he once again closes the distance between them. Their second kiss is short but just as sweet, and when they break away, they rest their foreheads together.

Kylo leans into him, no longer able to keep himself upright. Hux finds that he doesn’t mind, his dead weight now somehow comforting. One of his own hands starts carding through Kylo’s hair.

There can only be seconds left.

The only regret Hux has is that they only worked this out now.

“Next time.” Hux promises, as he laces his free hand with Kylo’s own.

Kylo hums in agreement, words obviously beyond him now. Hux holds him tighter.

(This is how death will find them: broken, defeated, but together)

*

Thank you for reading!  If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a like/kudos or comment, either here or on the Archive (fic link). I’m always up to talk kylux and fandom in general, so please feel free to come chat with me, here on tumblr or on my twitter. Thanks again  ❤️

[deviantartdramanow]

Your Logic is stupid bruh

You aint spitting a lick of sense, TallThiery29 was a thief, groomer herself (face it kid there's proof stop bawling against evidence) and unhappy on DA. You get into a stupid fight with another damn pedo and your common sense is to drag her back to where everyone hates her? You are a toxic asshole dude, it's also called blocking and reporting, how about doing that to hailstorm next time instead of dragging her back into a stupid war of groomers to see who is the most dramatic groomer? For all i care you all need to fucking leave. You all cause nothing but drama on DA and it's stupid and childish. All over stupid rps yet. Grow the hell up. I'm reporting all your damn art now, it's fucked up and contains users anyways which is against DA rules and counts as hate art. Stay mad bitch. Have fun fighting a huge group of us since you dragged your stupid ass on tumblr. And the mod WILL ban you over and over each time you sneak in so dont even try it boy. You made alot of enemies right now opening your mouth spitting lies. (Mod, I read through the stash links and that was just an angry friend, I talked to sparks and she finally blocked him because a certain someone by the name of reddragondraws kept egging her on to get 'evidence'. yea no it's not Estel or Eliza. The evidence is fake and i think his post should be deleted. Sparks has backed off and wont interfere but she will report alongside others if this guy or Tall open their fat mouths again namedropping. It's called BLOCKING. Learn to use the button dear.

——————— Mod note: Honestly i really contemplated on posting his side of the story, but, that’s just it, his side of the story. Though it’s been torn to shreds already.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Three

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

The trip to Nevarro was hell. 

The Razor Crest now smelled like Baast, and after using his soap, their two scents had blended, and Din was going out of his kriffing mind. He'd taken to sleeping in the cockpit, having given up his cot, but it did little good. 

It was like the essence of her had invaded every part of his home.

He'd started having dreams. Dreams of a world with sand dunes and plains of long grass, where towering forests of old wood grew and swayed in gentle, fragrant breezes. He dreamed of walking the rock and sand trails of jagged mountains, of climbing steep cliffs to drink from sweet falls that appeared out of the clouds.

And when he reached his destination, a rocky outcropping high above the world, a cat leapt over the rocks to land before him. She was sleek lines and dense muscle, her coat tawny, darkening to black over her muzzle and legs. Long tufts of fur drifted in the wind from the tips of her ears, and green eyes watched him with a thousand years of ancient wisdom.

He knelt before the regal creature and pulled off his helmet. She padded closer, circled him once, sniffed him curiously, and began to purr. The rumble soothed his soul, and Din closed his eyes as her sleek, furry cheek rubbed against his.

"Mine," he whispered as he reached for her, waking himself from the dream every time.

By the time they landed on Nevarro, he was desperate for air that didn't smell like Baast. A few more parsecs, he may have done something stupid.

He met her at the gangway with a heavy cloak. "Put this on, draw the hood, and try to remain inconspicuous."

She arched a brow before handing over Grogu. The kid stuck to her like glue, eager to be at her side whenever he was awake. It was a relief to know someone else was watching him, but at the same time, he missed the kid's continual company.

Baast shrugged into the cloak and pulled the hood over her hair before laying her hand on his arm. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You have been distant."

"Just busy." He held out a silver bar roughly three inches long. "Extendable staff, at least until the Alor can get you those sabres."

She smiled at him, the light just catching her fangs. "Thank you, Mando."

He tilted his head but tugged the hood farther forward. "Let's go."

They'd landed well after dusk, assuring a quiet, uninterrupted trip through the streets. Those that lingered paid them no mind used to seeing the silver beskar of an unpainted Mandalorian.

The bar was fairing better after the fight with Moff Gideon. Walls had been repaired, and the damage painted over. 

He walked in and headed straight for the back booth, ignoring the eyes that followed. They knew better than to mess with him, and the music stayed lively.

Karga, however, wasn't alone.

"Karga. Dune," he stated, tossing three pucks on the table. 

"Only three, Mando? I sent you out with four," Karga teased. "Did a quarry finally escape the famed Mandalorian?"

"She's dead; body recovery was impossible."

He watched Cara's eyes flick to Baast and down to Grogu, a smile growing as she pushed from the table. "There's the little womp rat!"

Grogu squealed his happiness, but Baast growled.

The low sound set his hair on end, causing Din to step back, between the woman and his clan. "Cara, not now," he said, no explanation, not sure he had one to give. 

Baast placed her hand on the back of his neck, a place without beskar but covered by his cowl. Still, he felt it like a live wire jolt.

"Usenye!" Baast growled.

"Udesii," Din murmured, turning just enough to know he meant Baast.

"Whoa, someone's touchy," Cara muttered.

Mando didn't need this right now. The longer he stayed here, the more twitchy he felt, like something beneath his skin was itching to claw its way free. "Karga. If they ask, you tell them she's dead."

The man stared at him a long moment, assessing, processing before he gave a short nod. "I will log the information myself." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ingot of beskar. "For your trouble and the three on your ship."

"Where did you get that?" Din asked, picking up the ingot.

"Took it off some Imps after that last clean up." A second pile of credits, smaller than it should be, landed next. "Consider us even."

"Done," he agreed, hyper-aware of Baast's hand still light against his neck.

"And congratulations, Mando. It isn't every day a Mandalorian takes a riduur."

He felt Baast's fingers twitch but didn't correct Karga's assumption.

"You got married!" Cara gasped, loud enough to cause the bar to pause and look their way. 

One long stare over his shoulder had them minding their business again. 

"Baast'mal. Cara Dune, former shock trooper, now Marshal for the New Republic. Greef Karga, head of the Bounty Hunters Guild, and Magistrate of Nevarro."

"A pleasure," Karga grinned. "Is it true wives put off their armour when they decide to have little warriors?"

Baast snorted. "Di'kutla. Anade knows gar ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya."

Din couldn't help but chuckle. "She says, foolish. Everyone knows you train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger. My woman is all warrior."

The words slipped out, and he couldn't bite them back. Baast's hand dropped from his nape, but only to lower and slide in at his waist, sneak past layers of beskar and again find flesh barely covered. She pressed closer, a low rumble vibrating between them, and Din felt approval wash from her like a wave.

"Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil," she murmured, low enough only Din heard, informing him she didn't like it there.

He looked down at her, into the deep shadows of her hood as she clutched Grogu to her and found her eyes. This place had her on edge. With her Force sensitivity, he believed her, but he wanted to know why. "Tion'jor?"

"Too many bad feelings," she whispered. "There are hunters, many of them."

He gave a small tilt of his head. "Vaabir val olaror par gar?" he asked, wondering if they came for her.

A slight negative shake. "For news of the child."

Din was instantly enraged and leaned over the table toward Karga. "You're taking a bounty on the kid again?"

"What? No! Of course not!" the man cried in outrage.

"Mando." Cara laid her hand over his. "He hasn't, I swear."

Baast growled, causing Din to move his hand out from under Cara’s and block Baast in the same action. "There are hunters here for news of the kid. Get your cargo off my ship so we can leave." He swiped the credits off the table and turned to go, Karga already barking orders.

Din wasn't surprised when Baast's fingers snuck to the crook of his elbow. Or, he wasn't as surprised as he should be. A riduur walked where her mate could protect them and any children they might have. Her position kept her secure against him while hiding them behind a wall of beskar and weapons, handled by a highly dangerous predator.

"Mando, wait," Cara said, blocking their path. "Come to my place. You can rest, eat, and I can see the kid. I missed him."

Baast's fingers twitched. 

"Cara," he hesitated.

"Please. We're friends. Let a friend toast your good fortune."

Another low warning growl rippled from Baast when Cara touched his arm.

"She has nayc staabi!" Baast snarled.

Din looked down at her. "Technically, neither do you."

Her hand snapped off his arm like he'd burned her, shock and disappointment so profound it hurt, hit him like a rampaging mudhorn. 

She took a step in retreat, Grogu clinging to her, the kid looking just as devastated. 

What had he done? Kriff! Why would he say that?

"Baast!" he shouted but was too late as she spun on her heel and raced from the cantina. "Kriff!" he bellowed and gave chase, Cara hot on his heels.

"What the hell was that, Mando?" Dune demanded as they slammed through the doors only to find a deserted street. 

"Not your concern."

"Mando!" She grabbed him by the vambrace. She had no way of knowing how close he came to putting her through the wall. "What's really going on? Who is she?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's a Mandalorian thing." He shook her off and looked for Baast's tracks. 

It didn't surprise him at all when they went up a wall and over the roof.

Din took off after her, climbing as if his armour weighed nothing, leaving Cara behind to curse and swear. He followed long strides for some distance as she ran across roofs, finally leaving the residential district to head into a more industrial area. 

Again her tracks went up, and he followed, climbing the narrow ladder to the top of a tower that looked out over Nevarro. He found her there; knees pulled to her chest, the hood thrown back, clinging to Grogu as the kid did his best to stroke the tears from her face.

"Baast." 

She jerked but didn't move. "Go away, Mandalorian."

"I can't." He went to her and knelt, intent on taking her in his arms, only to have deadly claws close around his throat. 

"You have not the right," she snarled, her eyes piercing him through the beskar.

Grogu huffed and sighed, appearing at once both annoyed and exasperated.

"Nayc staabi. No right, that's what you said about Cara."

Baast snarled. "If you want the shock trooper so badly, have her!" she snapped, pushing him back with strength, causing him to rock on his heels.

"I don't, and she doesn't want me. She would be more inclined to go for you," he chuckled.

She blinked big green eyes. "Oh…" Her hand slowly relaxed until it lay on his chest.

This time when he gathered her close, she didn't resist. "Forgive me. I said something stupid."

"But true," she sighed. "You did not dispute the claim of riduur. I knew it meant nothing but got caught up in my role. You are free to do what you wish with whomever you wish," she sighed.

Din didn't think. He didn't plan his next move. It was like instinct demanded he act, and so he did.

"Baast. Close your eyes."

She did so without hesitation or question as Din stripped off his gloves. The helmet hissed when he released it, causing her brow to twitch. Before he took it off, he wrapped his arm around her and covered her eyes with his hand.

"Din?" she whispered, her uncertainty clear. 

"Trust me," he murmured, lifting his helmet free with his other hand. They were too high up for anyone to see, and the moons had yet to rise, leaving them bathed in shadows. 

Grogu cooed and sat down a few feet away, apparently content to let the adults sort this out on their own.

Din gave him a last look before setting his helmet down and raising that hand to lightly, tenderly, stroke her face. "I don't want just anyone," he whispered, unable to deny what was written in his heart. "Just you," he sighed and lightly brushed their mouths together. 

He'd never kissed anyone before, but he wanted to kiss Baast. 

***

Din woke with a jolt and a clang of beskar as he fell out of the pilot's chair and onto the floor. 

He lay there confused and disoriented until he realized the entire thing had been a dream. 

He groaned softly enough that it didn't leave the safety of his helmet and pushed to his hands and knees before sitting back on his thighs. This trip was going to kill him. The dream had been far too real.

He picked himself off the floor and looked up to find Grogu smirking at him. "Don't start."

The kid gurgled a noise that shouldn't in any way have been cute but somehow still was.

"Hungry?" Din asked.

Grogu waddled closer, arms up.

"Of course you are. When are you not hungry?" he chuckled, picking up the kid and heading for the ladder down into the belly of his ship. 

He was just getting Grogu situated when the door to the fresher opened, revealing Baast in nothing but a towel. 

She jolted in surprise. "I did not expect… you… I…" A bright blush bloomed darkly across her cheeks. Then, she straightened, lifting her chin like a royal, firming her composure. "You have not joined us for meals as of late. I did not expect you and have washed my clothing."

His mouth was desert dry when he attempted to speak, but no words emerged, and Din was grateful for the helmet that hid his gaping mouth. He stared for too long before stepping away from Grogu and his gruel toward Baast. She stiffened, hand flexing where she clutched the cloth closed, but the Zentari didn't back down.

Din moved with cautious steps to the crates piled against the wall and shoved two over before picking up the third and setting it down on top of the others. From within, he pulled out blue silks. "I have this if you want it."

A regal brow arched, her wet hair sleek and sticking to her now brushed the tops of her thighs. "Why does a Mandalorian have a courtesan's dress in his belongings?"

He flinched, having hoped she wouldn't recognize it. "Because an assassin dressed as a courtesan attempted to kill me, but not until after she'd taken her clothes off."

Baast eyed the cloth a moment longer before gliding forward to pluck it from his fingers. "Did she succeed in the seduction?"

"No. That's why she was naked. She made a poor courtesan."

"Hmm," purred from her as she walked back into the fresher, and the door closed behind her. "And you have simply kept it lying around?" she called through the door.

Did she sound jealous, or was he still dreaming? "It's not something a Mandalorian can walk into the market and sell without garnering a second look."

"You were not, perhaps, keeping it for your riduur?"

The door opened, and Din forgot how to speak. Blue silk fell in sleek lines from the golden band that bared the under curve of her breasts. She swept out and headed for Grogu, sailing past him, her damp hair leaving a dark stain on the skirt. 

"I haven't thought much about a riduur." Before now. 

He followed her like a Bantha would a Tuskin Raider, and when she sat to help Grogu with his food, Din came to a stop behind her. 

She looked up, but he knew the beskar made it hard for her to read him. "Is it that terrible? Do I not make a passable courtesan?"

"More than passable," escaped his mouth, his brain still malfunctioning. "But your hair is dripping."

"Wet hair does that," she teased him with a smile.

"May I?"

She blinked as he began to strip off his gloves. "Din?"

"Let me," he murmured, running his fingers like a comb through her thick locks. He sat on a crate and worked free what few tangles had formed before splitting the mass in half. He began the plait high, working it smooth against her scalp and down behind her ear. When his fingers brushed the pointed tip, a shudder raced through her, but a low, happy purr followed. He made it to the end and used a scrap piece of leather to bind the long braid. 

"How is it that a Mandalorian knows how to do a woman's hair with the skill of a maid?"

He froze, fingers full of sand-coloured silk. "My mother," he murmured. "I once did it for my mother."

Her hand closed gently on his knee, Baast reaching back, otherwise staying still for him. "A good memory, I hope."

"One of my only good memories," he murmured, finishing the section close to her skull and swiftly plaiting the rest. Once he tied the end, she turned to look up at him and left him breathless. 

He'd never seen a more mesh'la creature. Men would spend their entire fortune for one night with her. But Din looked at her and saw her dressed in the ornaments of a riduur. Beskar bands for her braids, the cuff that would circle her upper arm and proudly display the mark of the mudhorn, proclaiming her part of his clan. The beskar breastplate that would be hers the moment their first child was born.

"Then, I am pleased to help you remember it." She stroked one of the thick plaits. "I am happy to offer myself to your ministrations in the future, should you so desire to assist me again."

Vital portions of his anatomy tightened, causing him to rise swiftly and step away from her tempting allure. "We'll be in Nevarro soon. I'll see about more suitable clothing when we get there."

He climbed the ladder back to the cockpit, knowing damn well he was running away.

***

riduur -  spouse

Usenye! - Go away!

Udesii - Calm down.

Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil - This place, I am on edge

Tion'jor - why

Vaabir val olaror par gar - do they come for you

 nayc staabi - no right

 ***

Next Chapter

[endcant]

i wonder how sasha’s chapters read to people who don’t have much knowledge of cult shit. i just got done with chapter nine, and while the description of the house of miriam was very pleasant, knowing that sasha was being love bombed that whole time was nauseating. especially with how people treat her relationship with alexander.

i bet that some readers unfamiliar with robert’s other work who stumble across it from the other side of that funny little political punnett square might genuinely struggle with understanding the fact that the heavenly kingdom was BAD bad early on, even with the references to fascism. in the US, there are a lot of people who really do view those kinds of sentiments in bits and pieces as harmless, backwards “redneck” idiocy.

that sneaky aspect of ATR reminds me of how i wanted to write a weirdly similar story when i was a kid and struggling with religious issues. i’m sure a lot of people raised extremely conservative+christian who swerved very far left and secular as they grew up probably also struggled to describe their situation and anxieties to any secular friends, and telling a story about warring nations is an easy way to frame it when you’re raised to see the situation as literal war. i know that some other people who were raised with the same impressions also find ATR and It Could Happen Here to be uncannily and hauntingly familiar. the speculative stories robert tells make me feel like i’m being turned inside-out.

the sasha-equivalent of the story i imagined wouldve been raised in my heavenly kingdom-equivalent, and my SDF would’ve been more closely tied with my NAF— and it would’ve had one ideology rather than several. i didn’t understand how diverse the secular world was, even then. i wouldn’t say that my NAF would’ve been GOOD per se... but i didn’t understand the issues with capitalism when i was a kid. so the moral greyness of my NAF equivalent would’ve been horribly similar to the way Sasha in ATR sees it. i mean, i was like 14 at the time i thought most about writing this story. i was very much not “out” of the belief system of my upbringing. i was just “struggling”.

i didn’t end up writing it. it turns out that expressing that kind of situation as morally blurry (and for that matter, writing a story about war where empathetic characters are on both sides) is very difficult for a teenage tumblr user with that kind of upbringing and a bad case of black and white morality. lol

also, i didn’t know how my story would end. i still don’t. if i were to write it now, i think it would end badly. i think it would reflect my anxieties, and go so horribly wrong. my NAF/SDF equivalent would not be equipped to put up a decent fight. my UCS would be home to plenty of influential capitalists as well. they’d protect themselves well with that doctrine, and plow forward, full steam ahead. and the world would end miserably.

anyway, im glad that ATR exists. robert’s work is somehow equal parts comforting and harrowing. im intrigued to see how his story ends. im intrigued to see how things really end, too.

[puffins-incorporated]

All For One is the Father of Nana’s Son and Grandfather to Shigaraki

Before I get into the nitty gritty, I’d like to thank all the people who’s inboxes (and in one case dorm) I burst into to yell about this as I wrote it, and the people who proofread it (often overlapping). Your support has been greatly appreciated.  This has been a theory I’ve been thinking about since chapter 235, and I’m happy to finally write it up.  Based on dialogue, Star Wars, and similar physical features between the characters, I’ve come to believe that it is highly likely that All For One is the Father of Nana’s Son and Grandfather to Shigaraki.  

Edit: it didn’t show up in the tags at first because of an external link for a source but that’s been fixed

Edit2: Added Part about AFO giving Shigaraki his surname!

Dialogue

The more I reread All Might’s final battle with All For One, the more one thing nags at me.  Why (and how) does All For One know Nana’s full name (and also that cute smiling pose?  Where did he learn about it?)?  He doesn’t know the civilian name of All Might, despite saying directly to his face how much he loathes him.  He also doesn’t know Gran Torino’s civilian name even though his surname is in his hero name, and Nana outright says his first name in All Might Rising. 

Hell, he only barely recognizes him as “Shimura’s Friend..?”, despite him pretty much being the guy who grabbed All Might and got out of the fight.  Why remember Nana Shimura’s full name and not the others? 

Star Wars and Koseki/Family Records

It’s no secret that Horikoshi is a huge Star Wars fanboy.  There are so many Star Wars references ranging from obscure to blatant to “the official sub and dub had to change it for copyright reasons”.  Perhaps the most prominent reference to Star Wars is All For One.  His life support mask and revealing of Shigaraki’s relationship to Nana is quite reminiscent of Darth Vader, no?  When a Darth Vader reference appears, it is often in tandem with him.  In the original trilogy, Obi-wan Kenobi tells Luke Skywalker that his father was killed by Darth Vader.  We all know that’s a lie, though one could interpret it as true to a degree.  With the rise of Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker could be said to have “died”.  Through Gran Torino, we learned that Nana’s husband was killed.  That’s it.  That’s all we know.  It’s possible that Nana lied about her husband dying literally.  For all we know, her husband died the day she found out he was All For One.  Adding on more Star Wars references, when talking over the outline for this with my friend, they noted how Nana and All For One as a couple could potentially mirror Padme and Anakin.  In both examples, the latter (on the “dark side” or moving there pretty swiftly) killed the former.  In any case, how could Nana cover up her husband’s death?  Same way she hid her connection to her son.  In the most recent chapter (281 at the time of this writing), we learned that Nana tinkered with the family records, known as Koseki.  I had a difficult time getting information on these, but from my understanding, while they were relatively easy to get access to at one point, these days only family members are able to.  Good thing, because according to this site (linked through tumblr) they contain “an individual’s full name; gender; birthdate and birthplace; parental relations (names of parents, relations to them, etc.); spousal relations (name of spouse, date of marriage, date of divorce, etc.); data related to the death of an individual (date, time, place of death); name of legal custodian or legal guardian; and data related to inheritance, such as the disinheritance of a presumed heir.” The same site also says “The information recorded in each family register is based on formal declarations made by citizens to their local government (municipality) at the time of a child’s birth, marriage, etc,” and that the information given to the municipalities is “submitted on a pro forma basis -there are cases in which an individual intentionally or negligently makes a false declaration’ that is subsequently incorporated as an entry in a family register,” lining up with Nana’s comment about tinkering with the family register.  

Physical Similarities Between All For One, Kotaro, Shigaraki, and the First User of One For All

This is the part that got me started on this line of thinking.  Over a year ago when chapter 235 was released, I realized that this shot of Kotaro looked… startlingly familiar.

(The anime version’s a little brighter than the scan)

Their angular features and rather defined noses were very similar, an oddity for a series with such a distinct cast of characters.  In fact, the only characters with very similar features are usually related to one another (Mom genes are a joke for a reason).  The BNHA discord I’m in agreed with me.  Around a month later, I considered the possibility that the fact I’ve been drinking Nana/AFO juice practically since I joined the fandom may have influenced my judgement.  So I sent two separate panels of Kotaro and AFO to a friend of mine.  She’s not interested in BNHA, and the only context I gave to the panels was that they were BNHA panels I wanted her to look over.  That was it.  The conversation we had is screencapped below.

If people interested in BNHA and someone uninterested in BNHA could see it, then I was onto something.  Recently, I remembered her response to the panels and that launched me into full theorist mode.  Exceedingly late on August 25, I spent at least thirty minutes scouring the manga for panels of Kotaro and pre-injury All For One. looking for more physical similarities.  And boy, did that search deliver. 

Similar Profiles

Similarly Defined Noses

A friend even pointed out how, though it’s difficult to see with Kotaro due to a limited range of expressions, that All For One and Kotaro share a crinkle around the mouth. They’re correct. 

You could even make a case that they look similarly broad shouldered as well.   

This extends to Shigaraki as well, as in at least one panel in Volume 11, he’s drawn with a similarly defined nose. 

All For One isn’t the only Shigaraki that Tomura Shigaraki bears resemblance too.  It’s been said before that Shigaraki bears quite the resemblance to the first user of One for All, and it’s easy to see why.  

Their hair is drawn in an eerily similar way. Their eyes too.  Looking closely, I’m starting to think their noses look pretty similar too. 

They also kind of look similar to All For One’s eyes (what’s visible of them) and nose too.  While I can’t be certain, I’m willing to bet that if Horikoshi suddenly decided to draw All For One with longer hair (and show more of his face), he’d look quite similar to Shigaraki (and his younger brother) as well.  People have speculated that Shigaraki is related to the first One For All user, and I agree. I believe that he’s his grand uncle, and I believe All For One is his paternal grandfather.

August 29 2020 Addition

I didn’t think to add this to the theory until after I posted so here’s the addition (which I’ll add to the main theory post later).  Why did All For One give Shigaraki his surname?  It could be argued that it’s a power play or something by replacing Nana’s surname with his own, but wouldn’t All For One take that opportunity to rub it in All Might’s face?  Wouldn’t hearing “Oh yeah I also gave your master’s grandson a part of my name” after you found out he was her grandson from your enemy hurt like hell?  You could write it off as a private middle finger but that doesn’t make much sense to me.  All For One has the subtlety of a freight train when being petty.  He could easily say it’s his name to anyone because he’s A) a minimum of a century old and B) known to have been born/raised during the time period when quirks were first sweeping the globe.  Any records on him could have been lost/destroyed in the passing years or during the chaos.  Hell, he could have destroyed them himself.  It’s safe to say that there is no one alive but All For One and Shigaraki who knows the significance of the name “Shigaraki”.  When the UA staff was researching Shigaraki Tomura and Kurogiri after the attack on the USJ, they concluded that both were using aliases. 

While all we’re told outright is that they checked the quirk registry for the two, I’m inclined to believe that’s not all they did.  Villains, for what seems to be the first time in history or awhile, attacked U.A. Highschool with murderous intent towards a teacher and his students.  Said teacher also just so happens to be one of the greatest, if not the greatest hero of all time.  There’s no way they’re just going to do a sweep through the quirk registry and call it a day.  Yet they don’t find anything on the name “Shigaraki”.  No one knows about this name, and he doesn’t say anything about it.  All For One could have given any name to Shigaraki.  So why his own?  I don’t think it’s for one last middle finger to Nana - he’d make a huge show out of doing that to All Might.  To me, I think it’s because they’re grandfather and grandson.  Perhaps it was some twisted form of sentimentality?  A twisted way of acknowledging a family member?  It’s the only thing that makes sense.

[anthonybialy]

Disturbed as Policy

The crazy people were always around. It's just that now they have backing. Coddling lunacy is a popular trend for very advanced people who think mental illness is to be celebrated as an indicator of unique diversity. They're right in a way.

Letting those with disturbing notions set the agenda is uncannily popular in an era of forestalling adulthood indefinitely. That characterization is unfair to children who possess enough sense to know everything won't be free forever. Not paying for one's own education is the surest way to become a grownup.

An entire political movement revolving around baffling notions requires lockstep compliance. You can't allow dissent when it's so obvious. Contemporary comrades are frightening in their zealous opposition to science and math. It's no wonder they were loath to criticize China like they were movie producers, as admiring struggle sessions is part of the ethos.

It was already risible to believe that government is a helpful presence in their lives. Now, such daftness is oh so pleasantly accompanied by strident shrillness in demanding banishment for anyone who noticed June's rainbow corporate logos embody pandering.

English is part of our society, which is why it must be destroyed. This whole scene is hateful. Those who preen about blatant disregard for evidence aren't going to respect what words mean, either. Changing pronouns with one's mood is certain to bring fulfillment. Go ahead and call yourself the precise opposite. If you're tired of overwrought comparisons to George Orwell's work, stop proving him correct.

Pronouns are merely a way to distinguish between two genders. That's the two genders, which should sentence me to canceling before this sentence is finished. Forget noting why the distinction between the two are important lest you'd like to be sentenced to summary execution by roving woke gangs.

You sure put oppressive words in their place. People referring to you by your genital style can't see your precious feelings. Choosing terms in contrast to what has already been determined is an act of juvenile rebellion that symbolizes dodging adulthood despite the explicit intentions. Remember that it's as monstrous to claim homosexuality is a choice as it is to say people are born with genders. Don't mix up hate crimes.

Those interested in tolerance must change how to refer to different types of people that are meaningless, anyway. Gender has been declared irrelevant by people obsessed with it. The distinction between the war-fighting spider-killers and feelings-based brats-birthers is as antiquated as buying one's own things.

Mean jerks in lab coats have what shouldn't be surprising news about genders. You already have one, and it's fairly easy way to check. Don't let someone talk you into performing it unless you're being courted.

Some things have remained with people because they're so obvious. Many old-fashioned behaviors resulted from everything humans can possibly observe. Stubborn seething contrarians who spend every waking moment scolding reactionary social media users who deadname refuse to accept the wisdom of the elders. I'm sorry to be the bearer of hateful news, but some topics are undisputed no matter how much some care to debate. Nobody wins an argument with biology.

You'd struggle to breathe for another year if you cared. Masks remain a great way to announce something despite muffled voices. Permanent fright is a virtue for a certain type of person who thinks rationality means being scared incessantly.

Those who want a life without risk are pathetic enough without trying to impose their pain-free existence on anyone who's braver by comparison. Everyone should've learned by now that trying to avoid any danger ever makes problems far worse. Irony is the top symptom. Softening immune systems is bound to make fighting off future viruses easy.

Drawing in the impressionable is the natural tendency of cults. People confused about their own lives and life in general find themselves attracted to anyone who claims the bizarre is to be embraced.

Sometimes, not being alone should be disturbing. Read a Tumblr post about warping distinctions that have served humanity for as long as there have been humans for mind-warping perspective. Well, that sounds like something insane with which to eagerly align. Political dealers are like drug peddlers, only less honest.

You believe any special thing you'd like. Just know it goes against everything humans have learned. People who proclaim to be on the side of research sure don't like evidence right in front of them. One doesn't even have to rely on lab findings churned out by scientists who vote for the same candidates. There's no way an experiment's results could ever be incorrect, especially when it's conducted in the replies of socialist baristas.

A desire for therapeutic assuaging motivates many people trying to avoid the cruelty of facts. Noting who hasn't suffered is the most hateful thought of all. It's a badge to have been wronged amongst very reasonable types who think they're resisting tyranny by supporting a maniacal federal government. Those who wish to have trauma to flaunt must be victims first. Oppression means you have something to righteously fight. Someone hurry up and be hurtful.